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mystra-midnight · 16 days

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— CALL ME LITTLE SUNSHINE | part i

pairing: rockstar ! eddie x innocent ! reader

tags: pet names. dirty talk. making-out. fingering. oral; (fem receiving). marking; (hickeys). loss of virginity. corruption kink. semi-public sex. eddie is entirely pussy whipped.

w/c: 6.7k.

a/n: welcome to part one! it's been a hot minute since i've posted anything as thought out and in-depth as this so if you could take a few minutes to reblog or comment some feedback, i'd very much appreciate it. ♥

"Corroded Coffin! Corroded Coffin! Corroded Coffin!"

The ever-growing crowd had been calling for the band the entire time you'd been waiting in line, which, after looking at the watch tucked beneath the sleeve of your cardigan, had been almost an hour and a half. The chanting had gotten so loud that, at some point, you'd stopped being able to hear yourself think, instead relying on Steve's large hand clasped around your own to tell you when to shuffle forward.

You felt out of place, unlike Steve and Robin. Everywhere you looked, people were dressed in leather and chains; piercings here, there, and everywhere; fishnets; big black platform boots; heavy make-up; and tattoos. And then there was you, dressed in a simple summer dress, hugging a knitted cardigan around your shoulders, wearing strappy sandals, and looking like someone right out of the Stepford Wives.

Other people noticed; you'd swear it, though no one said anything. As you looked between people, you caught a few of them looking at you, their expressions a motley of emotions that made you shift uncomfortably. Metal music had never been a particular favourite of yours, and concerts like this—where people were packed in like sardines—definitely weren't your preferred scene. The thought of being alone, snuggled beneath a blanket, and enjoying a glass of Moscato was much more appealing.

But you'd promised Steve and Robin that you'd come.

Well, no, not exactly. You hadn't promised either of them anything; instead, you'd given in to their constant whining. Steve and Robin had hung themselves from your legs as though they were dramatic, tantruming toddlers, pouting, and begging you to go with them. And after promising to cook dinner every night for a week—no, wait, a month!—your resolve finally broke.

That was how you found yourself finally walking through the double doors of the stadium. A gust from the air conditioner greeted you as you stepped inside, blowing your hair into your eyes and lip gloss, but it was a welcomed relief.

"I think that took literally forever." Your feet were already aching, and the thought of standing for another two hours was mentally and physically exhausting. Sure, you'd listened to some of Corroded Coffin's songs and thought they were good, but you weren't looking forward to standing in a sweaty crowd.

"Right. That was crazy, and they only have two scanners going. It's going to take forever to get everyone inside." Steve replied. His fingers tightened around yours when he felt your strides slowing, and he turned to notice your attention was on the merchandise display a few feet away. Following your gaze, he found the band tees hung up on a pinboard, images pressed onto the fronts and backs of each one. Some showed the band's tour dates and the cities they were scheduled to stop in, while others had stylised versions of Eddie's face.

Steve practically beamed with pride. He was proud of how far Eddie had come since they'd met—from school freak to famous rockstar. It was a big change, but a well-deserved one, given all the shit he'd been through. Somehow, he'd remained modest and hadn't forgotten where he'd come from; he'd gotten his uncle out of the trailer and into a two-bedroom apartment; he thanked his uncle and friends during every interview; he'd even forgiven his childhood bullies, though he never forgot what they'd done to him.

"Come on," he said while tugging your hand. "We should get in before the show starts," he said when you hesitated, teeth tugging on your lower lip as you continued to eye the shirts, bandanas, and posters on display. It was called the Upside Down Tour, and the band had released a limited-edition shirt for the tour.

"I want to get a shirt; this is the first concert like this I've ever been to. I want something to remember it." You explained. You wriggled your fingers in his, hinting that you wanted him to let go. If you'd have blinked, you might have missed it, but you swore that Steve and Robin shared a look—the kind that carried secret conversations and amusement.

Your heart stuttered in your chest, painful and sudden, while your mind raced to a dozen terrible thoughts. What if they regretted bringing you along, even though they'd practically begged you to go? What if they were angry? Fuck, what if they hated you? You must have looked like you were about to pass out because Steve took pity on you, reassuringly squeezing your hand as he stepped closer.

"Shit, sorry," he apologised with a crooked smile. "It's all good. We can pick one up after the show, okay? We need to get inside before security locks the doors."

"Oh," you answered. You ducked your head to hide your face, which felt like it was burning with embarrassment. You suddenly felt childish for letting your anxiety get the better of you, especially given that this was Steve and Robin, who had been nothing but kind from the moment you'd first met them. "Of course. After the show."

As though she sensed your distress, which she more than likely did because you radiated emotions like the sun radiated heat, Robin grabbed your other hand, lacing her fingers with yours, and gave you a sympathetic smile that mimicked the one on Steve's face. You loved them, but sometimes you hated them. So often, Robin and Steve seemed to be on the same page, on the same mental wavelength, having entire conversations with the lofting of a brow or half-smirk while you were on your own, a stranger looking in.

You tried not to think about it and tried desperately not to let negative emotions get the better of you tonight. You were at a concert with two amazing people, about to see a fantastic band play live. It was going to be a good night. Steve showed his ticket to one of the women managing the traffic flow, who motioned down a steep staircase into a standing pit right in front of the stage.

As you predicted, the crowd was already massive; there were too many people to fit comfortably within the stadium, but no one would complain as long as everyone behaved. And everyone would behave if they were able to see the band play. It wasn't long before the lights went down, and the crowd's cheering rose to a thunderous crescendo.

You felt the violent vibrations of the bass guitar as the bassist began the opening rift—how it rattled the ivory cage around your lungs until your entire body swayed to the rhythm. A sudden fireworks explosion dazzled and blinded you as the crowd rushed forward. Then the atmosphere turned electric, casting a weaving web on the crowd and drawing them in.

When the smoke settled, you saw the band had taken their places on stage, dressed in black denim, leather, chains, tattoos, and wild hair. They preened beneath the attention of their peers as the frontman and lead singer, Eddie Munson, moved to stand before a microphone. "I hope you're ready to rock, Hawkins, 'cause we're not stopping until the cops come knocking!"

Steve grabbed your wrist and dragged you in front of him, pushing you closer to the stage. That was how you found yourself standing front and centre. One of his hands grabbed your hip firmly, ready to break the fingers of any other wandering hands. He wrapped his other arm around Robin's shoulders, holding her to him as they sang along to a song you didn't know the words to.

It wasn't your proximity to him or the bruising grip of his fingers that warmed your blood, but the singer on stage. You'd seen pictures of Eddie in the trashy magazine you picked up from the gas station occasionally; each one seemed to be a different headline, each as scandalous as the last. Corroded Coffin's singer caught with another woman? Eddie Munson, Satanic Priest! Some of them were ridiculous, and none of them had been particularly entertaining, especially when, in every interview, he seemed humble, perhaps even flustered by the fame.

The sight of him on stage sent heat dripping down your cheeks and into your neck, spiralling through your veins to gather at your core.

He looked like a devil but had the face of an angel—wild curls bounced around his face, you caught glimpses of his inked skin, and there was a perfect trail of hair on his abdomen. He strummed at his guitar strings as though it were his lover, plucking the cords with perfectly practised movements. You wondered what else his fingers could do, and a wild blush crept into your face.

As though your thoughts weren't mortifying enough, he seemed to have noticed. His eyes found yours in the crowd, as if he could see straight into your brain and was plucking the fantasies from your mind.

The world slowed to a crawl and faded until it was just the two of you and your racing thoughts. You drank in the sight of him. You caught glimpses of his tattoos, watched how droplets of sweat rolled down the hollow of his throat as the heat of the stage lights bore down on him, and watched how his lips moved as he sang, the rasps of his voice enough to make you tremble.

You tugged your lower lip between your teeth, almost afraid to look away; you wanted this moment to go on forever and ever. But as abruptly as it began, the fantasy ended when he looked out across the crowd, and as he did, the world snapped back into place. Your heart was racing, and your breath was erratic.

You felt silly having been caught up in such an intense moment with a perfect stranger, even if he was handsome and famous—a perfect mixture of exhilaration and embarrassment. You glanced at Robin and Steve, hoping they hadn't noticed your captivated state. They hadn't.

The two were still singing and enjoying the music, bouncing up and down as a guitar solo swept through the speakers. Worrying your lip between your teeth, you looked back at the stage, trying valiantly to refocus on the music. After a while, the guitar's pounding bass and electrifying energy were enough to pull you back into the moment.

You felt captivated, as though whatever dark spell he was weaving had fallen upon you, too. His performance was filled with raw emotion and a rebellious spirit, with the lyrics resonating with something deep inside you, echoing your desires, and enticing a wildness to spark in your veins.

You stole another glance at him, and his eyes again met yours. It was almost as if the universe had conspired to connect you two in a chaotic sea of people. With a sudden burst of courage you didn't think yourself capable of, you gave a bashful smile and lifted your hand, waving at him.

He saw and acknowledged you with a knowing smile, to your surprise and amusement. It felt like a dirty secret. You would swear that your face was on fire from how hard you were blushing, your fingers wringing together nervously at the front of your dress.

It seems silly. In fact, you knew it was silly, childish, and stupid.

You didn't know him, and he didn't know you. You knew the media's version of him—the stylised rockstar who'd grown up poor, defied the odds, and came out on top—the playboy who had a different girl every other week and who'd been caught having sex with fans in odd places. But what you'd felt, however brief, had ignited a fire in the pit of your stomach. You felt it smouldering as you were lost in the music and its wild energy.

The last guitar riff played, and the crowd erupted into thunderous applause. You expected the crowd to thin down now that the show was finished, but they remained, hooting and hollering, vying for his attention.

"He was incredible!" You shouted as you turned to Steve, straining to be heard above the crowd. He gave you a funny expression and tilted his head to the side, causing a stir of hair to fall into his face.

"What?"

"I said," you shouted while moving closer to him. "That was incredible!"

This time, he heard you, chuckling under his breath and holding you in place when you tried to slip through the crowd. And then you saw Eddie standing at the edge of the stage, a security guard at his side. You could see they were talking, now if only you'd learned to read lips. Except you didn't need to read lips to know he was pointing right at the three of you.

Your heart stopped mid-beat, your mouth running dry, as a second security guard approached the three of you. From where you were frozen in time, you didn't see Steve and Robin grinning at each other or the glint in their eyes.

You were star-struck, staring at the security guard as if he'd grown a second head. And he might as well have because things like this didn't happen. Maybe it happened in the movies, but not real life and you weren't some perfectly poised beauty. You were a real woman with feelings; they were all over the place right now.

You grabbed Steve's arm when he stepped away, pulling him to a stop. He looked down at you with a furrowed brow. "What the hell is going on?" you hissed at him, not angry but entirely surprised and uncertain. He gave you a dashing and daring smile.

"Think he just invited us backstage."

"What?"

You'd tried to convince yourself that this was a wild dream. You even pinched yourself—twice. Things like this didn't happen to ordinary people, especially people like you. The shy woman who had to have a drink in her hand, the woman who took sips to fill the silence when talking became overwhelming, the woman who stammered and blushed with little more than a wink from a handsome man.

But it was happening. And now there you were, backstage, with Steve and Robin at your side, staring at a door with the band's name written in block letters. You could hear people milling about inside.

The security guard knocked, and you heard the muffled sound of movement, followed by something being knocked over and a chorus of laughter. Finally, the door was hauled open.

"Eddie!"

Robin's outburst startled you. She pushed past you and Steve, then the security guard, and threw herself at the man. You gawked at them, eyes wide as your soul burst to life, heart skipping several beats when he spun her in a circle. Robin's feet didn't touch the ground as they laughed.

You couldn't believe it.

There, standing not even five feet away, was the lead singer of Corroded Coffin, Eddie-fucking-Munson—the very same man you'd been eye-fucking on stage not even an hour ago. A part of you wanted the ground to open wide and swallow you whole. Another part screamed at you to cling to him as Robin had done.

"Hey," Steve whispered, leaning slightly closer to your ear. "Are you doing okay? You look like you've seen a ghost or something."

"What?" You replied, your voice rising an octave in panic. Your gaze whirled between Steve and the duo, who seemed oblivious to your presence, and then back again. "Yes, well, no! You didn't tell me you knew him!"

"Who? Eddie?" He asked.

"That guy, right there, the famous guy hugging our friend?" You were incredulous, your arm flailing in their direction, much to Robin's amusement and Eddie's confusion. "Yes, him! You two know him?"

"What about Eddie?"

The sudden appearance of his voice made you squeak in surprise. His voice was dark, deep, and delectable, like chocolate, and hoarse. It felt like liquid heat pouring down your spine, flooding every intersecting bone until you trembled. Eddie smiled, and his cheeks dimpled in a way that had you blushing wildly.

You stared as Steve and Eddie swept each other into a bear hug, slapping each other on the back and again on the arm as they came apart. Robin gave you a playful poke in the side, bringing your attention back to her.

"What about Eddie?" She asked, which inevitably brought all of their attention to you. You shifted beneath the weight of their combined stare. Your eyes found Eddie's, and you looked away quickly.

"Yeah, what about Eddie, girl?" He playfully added.

"Nothing! It's just that—um—well, I didn't know you—uh—that they knew you. That's all." You say, stumbling over the words like an awkward teenager. You mentally kicked yourself, but in truth, you'd never been good at talking to people. You'd always been a little shy, and everyone made fun of you before Steve and Robin slowly started coaxing you out of your shell.

And it wasn't as though he knew you. He probably hadn't seen you in the crowd. Now that you think about it, Eddie was just as likely to be smiling at them, not you, when he was on stage. But that didn't do anything to pull the blush out of your face or stop the way you shuffled under the gaze of the trio.

"Oh, yeah," Eddie said with an awkward laugh, reaching up to scratch the back of his head. Your eyes went a little buggy when his shirt rode up, revealing that trail of hair that disappeared into the band of his jeans.

You looked away quickly before he could catch you staring, finding something on the wall that suddenly fascinated you. He didn't notice, or at least didn't say anything if he did. "Yeah, yeah, the three of us went to high school together. It seems like a lifetime ago."

Robin stared at him, her expression incredulous. "It was, like, five years ago, Eds. Don't you dare make me older than I am!" She said as the back of her hand connected with his stomach. Eddie huffed as he doubled over dramatically, clutching his stomach and coughing as though she'd just punched the air from his lungs. You laughed despite yourself, momentarily drawing his attention to you; he flashed you a dazzling smile before hustling the three of you inside.

It would have been spacious inside the room if it wasn't filled with boxes of merchandise, band equipment, and the rest of the band. The little composure you'd managed to hold onto disappeared when Steve and Robin rushed inside, similarly greeting the others, hugging and laughing like old friends.

You lingered at the door, unsure what to do with yourself, when you felt a hand against the small of your back, fingertips tapping just above the curve of your ass, high enough to be respectful but low enough to send a delicious shiver down your spine.

"Come on, sweetheart. They don't bite," Eddie said with a laugh before leaning down to whisper in your ear. You felt his breath against your neck, the warmth of it making you shiver as he caught a glimpse of your cleavage before you hugged your cardigan around yourself.

"Well, I might," he added. "If you ask nicely."

He didn't wait to see your reaction, but from the beaming smile plastered on his face, he'd heard your squeak of surprise. Instead, Eddie flounced into the room, joining Steve, Robin, and the others as you followed.

Once official introductions were made, you sat at the end of one of the couches next to Eddie, who seemed entirely unaware of your nervous inner turmoil. Occasionally, his thigh brushed against yours, jostling you in his excitable state as the group recalled their high school years.

"You were quite the ladies' man in high school, Steve. Don't act bashful now," the drummer, Gareth, said with a booming laugh. You found yourself smiling and laughing with him, amused by the way Steve rubbed at the back of his neck and tried to deflect.

"I remember Robin telling me that the girls used to call him King Steve." You added. Gareth howled with laughter at how Steve flushed a deeper shade of pink. You smiled at him, pretty and sweet, but should have known he wouldn't let that slight go unanswered. You hardly had time to steel yourself before he returned fire.

"Hey now," he said, his smile positively devilish. "Don't start throwing shade if you can't handle the sun, sweets. Because I could tell some stories about you, too. Well, no, I couldn't. I don't think I've ever heard those bed springs squeak."

You choked on a mouthful of beer, coughing as you glared at him in horror. "Steven Joseph Harrington!" Your face burned at the revelation of a secret you'd shared with him one drunk and wild night. Using his full government name was enough for him to know he'd crossed a line, but the laughter of his friends encouraged him.

"I can't help it if that's the truth, you know," he said with a shrug.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Eddie shouted, shaking his hand wildly to get everyone's attention, especially yours. You squirmed in your seat, pushing yourself hard against the arm of the couch to try and escape his intense stare when he rounded on you.

"Never? As in never, ever?"

At that moment, you wanted the ground to open wide and swallow you. It wasn't that you were embarrassed to be a virgin, but the attention made you uncomfortable. You'd never been the type of woman to want a one-night stand with a stranger. Steve had offered once when you'd both been drunk and confessing secrets, but you'd never felt the itch.

And it wasn't that you considered your virginity to be a cherished and sacred part of yourself. But you'd never wanted to be that vulnerable with someone unless you trusted them entirely.

"Bullshit." Eddie spat, not nasty, but disbelieving. "You've gotta be shitting me. A pretty thing like you hasn't ever had sex? I know you're lying."

You stared at your hands resting in your lap, fingers wringing the hem of your dress until the stitching threatened to fray. From across the room, you heard the vague sound of Robin talking, mumbling something about you being as ripe as a cherry. She purposely popped her lips, and you wanted to die.

"Jesus Christ," you managed to choke out. "Yes, okay, I'm a total virgin. Can we talk about something else, please?"

The universe appeared to take mercy on you because the conversation changed topics at breakneck speed. One moment, Eddie was gawking at you; the next, he was focused entirely upon Jeff, who'd bought up something called the Hellfire Club. You took the opportunity to down the rest of your beer, letting the flavour of it wash away the taste of embarrassed tears.

The night went on in relative peace. You drank with them, listening to their wild stories of high school shenanigans and offering your own when prompted. You hadn't realised how much time had passed until you glanced at your watch and gawked: two in the morning.

"So, never?" Eddie asked without warning, his voice soft and almost innocent, breaking the silence that had blossomed within the room. You pulled your cardigan around your shoulders as though the thin material could shield you from his gaze. The others had fallen asleep, either drunk or high or just beyond exhausted. It was just the two of you.

Just you and Eddie.

"Look," you said with a sigh, your face burning again. "I really don't want to talk about that."

He held his hands in the universal sign of hold up. "I'm not judging you, sweetheart. I'm just curious. A pretty thing like you has to have a trail of broken hearts behind her."

You laughed despite yourself and relaxed back onto the couch, enjoying the warmth radiating from him. He was so close that you could see the way his Adam's apple bobbed with each swallow, the way he traced his lips with the tip of his tongue, the way the fabric of his jeans stretched across his lap, the bulge there. . .

You snapped your head away when he caught your staring.

"It's not like that. I've had boyfriends. I've just never felt comfortable doing anything with them. Not that they were bad people. I didn't want to do it because everyone was doing it. Then I got busy, and dating stopped happening. You understand? Of course you do. You're famous; I doubt you have much time for dating. Not that anyone wouldn't want to date you."

You were rambling, the words falling from your lips like verbal vomit, and you couldn't stop. Eddie silenced you, moving without warning to close the distance lingering between the two of you. He grabbed you by the back of the neck, his fingers rough and warm, pulling you into the wall of his chest so that he could slot his mouth against yours.

Eddie Munson tasted like cigarette smoke and alcohol, dark desire wrapped in leather. Eddie Munson smelled like adrenaline and sex, a woman's wet dream. Before you knew what you were doing, you kissed him back, desperate for more.

Eddie led you into an adjacent room, his fingers enveloping yours, providing a comforting anchor. The soft snores of the others faded into a distant hum as he closed the door. Your gaze traced the contours of his back, the curve of his shoulders, the way his studded jacket draped over them, the weight of his chunky black boots and the ruggedness of his ripped jeans. The belt cinched around his narrow waist, crowned with a buckle shaped like a bat, adding a touch of mystery to his rugged charm.

He turned abruptly, his hand slamming against the door beside your head, eliciting a startled yelp from you. Eddie pressed against you, your hands instinctively clutching the fabric of his shirt. Caught between the desire to pull him closer and the instinct to push him away, you found yourself staring at him with wide, uncertain eyes. Your heart pounded against its ivory prison, the uncertainty of the moment adding to its frantic beat.

"E—Eddie?" You managed to stammer his name, your voice impossibly quiet, overflowing with uncertainty and a mix of fear and desire. He didn't seem to mind. He smiled at you, his breath washing over your mouth and nose like a sweet rum, leaving you light-headed. You squeezed your thighs together as tight as you could, desperate to stifle the growing heat at your core.

He felt it, your nervous shifting and the wild beating of your heart as he cruised a hand along your body, from your hip and then over your breast to clutch the back of your neck. He rubbed his thumb over your racing pulse. "Has anyone ever kissed you like this before? Pushed you against a wall, touched you, told you how beautiful you are?"

Your face burned. Eddie knew that you'd been kissed before; you'd told him as much. But you'd also told him you were a virgin. At twenty-four, you'd almost grown out of being embarrassed by the fact.

"No," you answered in a low exhale, trying to duck your head to avoid his smouldering stare. His eyes were blown with lust, almost black as coal, as he pushed his thumb against your chin, forcing you to look at him.

He leaned in closer, the feel of him like a weighted blanket on your chest, making it harder to breathe but in a pleasant way. It made your head fuzzy, like floating in a beautiful daydream, except his lips ghosted over yours. The faintest of touches had reality snapping into place around you.

"Never, ever?" Eddie whispered, his lips brushing, tugging, teasing yours. He was so close that he'd invaded all your senses until all you saw, heard, and breathed was him. He held fast when he wanted to move. Eddie waited for someone to give in to desire and bring the other into the flames. He wanted and needed it to be you.

The tiny whimper you made shot through him, racing through his blood like a bolt of electricity until his cock throbbed. And then you took the plunge, a hand at the back of his neck, the other hauling him in by that pretty studded jacket so you could brush your mouth against his.

It was all he needed—a silent confession, unspoken permission.

Eddie pushed against you until you felt the studs of his leather jacket and his dangling chains pressing into you through your clothing, your dress suddenly restrictive and in the way. His hands were everywhere, cupping your face, running through your hair. And then he dropped to his knees with a thud, pressing kisses down your stomach, leaving wet marks against the fabric of your dress as he ran his hands up the backs of your legs.

"No one ever touched you like this?"

You felt like you were going up in flames. His touch was fire licking your skin, beautiful and pure, leaving you trembling. His hands moved up the back of your thighs, and when his mouth found your belly button, tongue swirling once, then twice, you grabbed him by the shoulders to steady yourself.

"Words, sweet girl. I need you to answer," he said in a husky tone, pinching the back of your thigh to bring you out of your mind and into the moment. He looked at you from beneath his impossibly dark lashes, his eyes dark, twinkling with mischief.

"Never," you managed to gasp when his hands began drifting high, pushing your dress up until he could bunch it at your hips. And then he was face-to-face with your panties, groaning dramatically, making a sound that would make a pornstar blush.

"Have mercy," Eddie moaned, his breath hot against your mound even through the barrier of clothing. His eyes moved back to yours, and you flushed with embarrassment. He was staring at you like he wanted to devour you. "Even your fucking panties are adorable. That little bow? I'm going to take my time unwrapping this present."

Yet, despite this admission, he didn't take his time.

His mouth landed on your clothed cunt without a preamble. Your knees shook and threatened to give out as he worked his tongue against the wet fabric, tasting your arousal and letting it slide down his throat like a fine wine. Eddie found that virgins were quick to get wet. His calloused fingers kneaded the globes of your arse, pulling you closer, his talented tongue pushing your panties into your slit so he could tease your clit with gentle licks.

You bit your knuckles to stifle the sounds of your moans as pleasure snaked through your veins, creeping through your bloodstream until you broke into a sweat.

"Put your hands in my hair," he demanded with a rough voice, and like a mindless fool, you complied. His hair was a mess of wild curls that you pulled on, sinking your fingers deep into his plush locks when he started to work your panties down your thighs. "Good girl."

"Oh god." As the fabric pooled at your ankles, your head hit the door with a soft thud. You were like putty in his hands—willing to walk through the fires of hell if it meant he'd keep touching you. Eddie freed one of your ankles and threw your leg over his shoulder, bringing you closer.

Words could not describe the feeling of his tongue against your slick folds or the sensation of the tip flicking against your clit. It was like lightning arched through the sky to melt the skin from your bones. You were burning up. And he'd lit the match.

Eddie was loud and messy, lewd. The sounds that clawed up his throat were pornographic. Each wet schlick of his mouth was accompanied by a throaty moan as he sucked your clit and teased your throbbing hole with the tip of his tongue.

It was an out-of-body experience—you never realised you could feel this good. Eddie held you by the back of the thighs, his grip firm, pulling you onto his tongue until your flesh goosepipmpled beneath his touch. You could have collapsed when he withdrew, a line of saliva connecting the tip of his tongue to your clit.

"Words, pretty girl. You gotta use them, or I'm going to stop."

You whined desperately, weaving your fingers deeper into his wild hair. "Please don't stop, Eddie. . ."

"Then talk to me. Let me hear those pretty sounds."

He waited only a moment, his dark eyes staring into yours with the intensity of the sun. He took in your flushed cheeks and shallow breaths that made your chest heave. Then he resumed his meal. The sound you made in response was embarrassing—at least, it should have been. You should have wanted the ground to split open and swallow you. But you didn't.

"It's good," you choked out, squeezing your eyes shut as he ran the flat of his tongue along your slit, the tip flicking your clit in a delicious way that made your hips twitch; forward, then back, like you wanted him to eat you alive but also to escape.

The feeling was exquisite—like nothing you had ever felt—knocking the air from your lungs, making the muscles in your legs tense and your core weep. Your whole body jerked under his tongue, a shiver shaking your spine, your bones turning to jelly as he licked and sucked your drenched cunt. "Oh god. . . I think. . . I—I'm close."

You'd had orgasms before, but nothing quite like this. It was a slow build, each swipe of Eddie's tongue amplifying the pressure between your hips, sending jolts of electricity through your veins until your nerves crackled and popped. It was difficult to describe; you could taste the words on the tip of your tongue, but they melted away with each moan he drew from your lips.

And then it spread out through your body, a searing warmth that threatened once more to melt the skin from your bones.

"You're so wet, sweetness, m'fucking drowning here," Eddie said. Even though his words were vulgar, the low growl with which he spoke sent you tumbling down the other side of pleasure. The first wave zinged through you, knocking the air from your lungs and sparking every one of your nerves to life.

You bit your knuckles hard until you tasted blood, but the flavour was quickly lost as the second wave seared through your limbs. Eddie didn't stop—not once. Each swipe of his tongue against your clit, each push of it into your virginal hole, sent wisps of fire shooting through your veins, adding stars and galaxies bursting to life behind your scrunched-shut eyes.

When you returned to earth, you found yourself trembling, his strong hands the pillars that kept you upright. Eddie kissed his way back up your body, slowly working your dress up as he went until he could pull it over your head. He threw it over his shoulder, the fabric a distant memory as it hit the ground, lost and now forgotten.

"No one ever made you cum before, have they?" He whispered, his breath hot, his smirk feral, as he teased his lips along the slope of your neck. You whined when your bare cunt rubbed against his dark denim jeans, the rough drag of the rips and tears against your lips sending you hurtling toward the sky once more.

"No," you managed to say before catching his mouth for a wild, clumsy kiss. Eddie happily obliged, pushing his tongue into your mouth and licking your teeth so you tasted yourself.

"Touch me. . ."

"What do good girls say?"

"Please."

You would die if he didn't touch you in the next three seconds. You would collapse to the ground, melt into a puddle at his feet, and literally die.

Thankfully, he took pity on you.

Eddie kissed you deeply, with the fire of a thousand suns; his hot breath stole through your lungs when he swallowed your moans, leaving you on the verge of combustion. You felt lost in him, touching him here, there, and everywhere as you tried to strip him. Eddie didn't let you. He grabbed your wrists and held them at the small of your back, and he moved you both across the room.

Your lips never once parted. The moment was composed of hot breaths, searing kisses, and teasing bites, weakening your knees terribly. Eddie fell back into a high chair in front of the make-up mirrors. You were desperate to climb into his lap, to wind your legs around him and leech the warmth from his chest, but instead, he turned you and pulled you into his lap, back to chest.

"Eddie," you whispered his name in a sigh, heady with desire. "I want more. . ."

He pressed a kiss against the shell of your ear, smiling in response. His lips were wet, his mouth wanting as he lowered it to your next, sucking a mark into your plush skin. "Open your eyes, sweetness."

Eddie hooked your knees over his thighs, spreading you open and exposing you to the mirror. The tips of his fingers ghosted along the crease of your inner thigh, making your breath hitch in anticipation. "You're beautiful," he said with a hum, nuzzling his nose into your hair. You caught his eyes in the reflection and saw the stark desire that had turned his pupils black, the hunger.

And you saw the expression mirrored in your own reflection. Your skin was flushed the subtlest shade of pink, pussy glistening with arousal. Eddie honestly thought you were the prettiest thing he'd ever fucking seen; so sweet, so innocent.

The stretch of his thick fingers was immediately exquisite, the slick of your arousal coating them entirely. Eddie watched the mirror, transfixed by the way it dropped from around his fingers, sliding down the curve of your ass to darken his denim jeans.

He felt you clench around him, tension seeping through your body as the pain collided with pleasure, twisting through your veins like snakes, intertwined, threatening to consume you from the inside out. You cried out when he crooked them, hips rising in search of more; his other hand cruised up your body, the soft swell of your stomach, cupping a tit in the palm of his hand, thumb teasing your nipple into a hardened peak.

Eddie growled against your neck. He was as hard as a rock, and each jolt of your hips had your arse rutting against his aching cock. You reached back to grab his hair, winding your fingers through his wild curls as the pleasure mounted. You were a guitar, and he had years of practice. He watched the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the way you couldn't sit still as he fucked his fingers in and out of your cunt, the way you clawed at his jeans.

You put a hand over your mouth to stifle the way you moan, loud, wantonly, like a whore. You felt dirty—like this was a scandalous secret. The thought of being found was erotically terrifying.

"You getting close, sweetness?" Eddie asked; no, he growled the words against your neck, teeth clipping the sensitive skin. "I can feel it. You're squeezing my fingers so fucking tight. Are you thinking about my cock? How much better it'll feel than my fingers?"

As though to emphasise his words, his thrust against you, his erection hard against the globes of your arse, leaving him moaning as his own muscles twisted with desire, pure liquid heat pouring through his bones.

"Cum for me, baby."

He wasn't asking; no, he was demanding.

tag list ::

@micheledawn1975 | @maxstecc

—interest in being tagged in future chapters? send me a message!

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #rockstar!eddie x innocent!reader #call me little sunshine #call me little sunshine - part one

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mrsclausdiary · 2 years

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Beach dreaming in my @narcesdress-blog.

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venusiancharisma · 2 months

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Rising Sign & Your Perfect Festival Outfit

Here are the perfect any music festival outfits for each of the 12 zodiac signs and Ascendants, with details on color schemes, materials, accents, and overall aesthetics:

PSA: Images and descriptions are both complimentary, so they may not be entirely identical, but everything is relevent.

Aries Rising: Bold and daring, an Aries rising would rock a fiery red crop top paired with high-waisted denim shorts. Accessorize with a black leather choker, combat boots, and a statement belt. The outfit screams confidence and adventure.

Taurus Rising: Earthy and sensual, a Taurus rising would opt for a flowy, bohemian-style maxi dress in shades of green and brown. Pair with a leather fringe vest, ankle boots, and a wide-brimmed hat. The outfit exudes comfort and laid-back elegance.

Gemini Rising: Playful and eclectic, a Gemini rising would mix and match patterns and colors. A graphic tee paired with a colorful, patterned skirt, fishnet stockings, and high-top sneakers. Accessorize with layered necklaces and quirky sunglasses for a fun, youthful vibe.

Cancer Rising: Soft and feminine, a Cancer rising would choose a vintage-inspired, pale blue sundress with delicate lace details. Pair with a cozy, oversized cardigan, ankle-strap sandals, and a small, cross-body bag. The outfit radiates comfort and nostalgia.

Leo Rising: Bold and dramatic, a Leo rising would make a statement in a metallic gold romper with a plunging neckline. Accessorize with a chunky, gold chain necklace, oversized sunglasses, and platform heels. The outfit screams glamour and confidence.

Virgo Rising: Clean and practical, a Virgo rising would opt for a crisp, white button-down shirt tucked into high-waisted, black denim shorts. Pair with a black leather belt, minimalist jewelry, and comfortable, low-top sneakers. The outfit is polished and effortlessly chic.

Libra Rising: Elegant and balanced, a Libra rising would choose a flowy, pastel pink maxi skirt paired with a white, off-the-shoulder crop top. Accessorize with delicate, gold jewelry, strappy sandals, and a woven clutch. The outfit is feminine and harmonious.

Scorpio Rising: Mysterious and alluring, a Scorpio rising would opt for a black, lace bodysuit paired with high-waisted, faux leather leggings. Layer with a sheer, black kimono, and accessorize with a choker, ankle boots, and a dark, smoky eye. The outfit is seductive and intense.

Sagittarius Rising: Adventurous and free-spirited, a Sagittarius rising would rock a tie-dye, cropped t-shirt paired with distressed, cut-off denim shorts. Accessorize with a woven, multicolored belt, layered anklets, and gladiator sandals. The outfit is playful and adventurous.

Capricorn Rising: Classic and sophisticated, a Capricorn rising would choose a sleek, solid & colored co-ord with a structured, cinched waist. Pair with knee high or thigh high black boots or dainty shoes, minimalist jewelry, and subtly refined look. The outfit is timeless and powerful.

Aquarius Rising: Unique and unconventional, an Aquarius rising would opt for a holographic, iridescent bodysuit paired with high-waisted, flared pants. Accessorize with a chunky, silver choker, platform boots, and a brightly colored, faux fur coat. The outfit is futuristic and eccentric.

Pisces Rising: Dreamy and ethereal, a Pisces rising would choose a flowy, sheer, pastel purple maxi dress with delicate, floral embroidery. Layer with a soft, crochet cardigan, and accessorize with a flower crown, layered, beaded necklaces, and strappy, barefoot sandals. The outfit is whimsical and enchanting.

#astrology #zodiac #natal chart #sagittarius #astro notes #libra #capricorn #astro observations #virgo

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taylorswiftstyle · 5 months

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New Year's Eve party | Kansas City, MO | December 31, 2023

Clio Peppiatt 'Vittoria Dress' - $2,013.00 Jennifer Behr 'Supernova Bobby Pin Set' - $425.00

At a private NYE party Taylor wore another Clio Peppiatt sparkly mini! Her last time wearing this particular designer for a celebration was, of course, her recent 34th birthday. It wouldn't surprise me at all if we started to see Taylor wear a few more sparkly options from this designer in 2024. This particular style was one made exclusively for retailer Annie's Ibiza as part of a limited capsule collection. While it was originally styled in retail shots with a tall pair of cowboy boots, I suspect Taylor paired hers with a metallic platform pair of peep toe sandals.

The option of a bun and some spangly coordinating silver hair accessories feels very on theme to her last few celestial accessories (suspicions suspicioning) while also being (conveniently) very NYE appropriate.

#taylor swift #candid #dress #accessory #clio peppiatt #jennifer behr #december 2023

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enmi-land · 2 months

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✶ৎ SMARTER BABY

📄 ────𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝗇𝗈 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗋𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖺’𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝖾

2024 pairing. poly!ot7엔하 x fem!member oc cw. suggestive themes, profanity, mentions of alcohol, making out; hyung line-centric req. mila dancing to lsrfm ‘smart’ & engenes/enha reaction ❨ BACK to LIBRARY ?! ❩

“YOU LOOK PRETTY.” Riki wrapped his hands around Mila’s waist form behind her, resting his chin on her shoulder as he watched her apply lip gloss in the mirror. “What’s the occasion?”

Mila was usually the type to dress up, but today it seemed she put a bit more effort into her appearance than usual — not that he was complaining.

She wore a cropped long-sleeve wrap top that showed off the curve of her waist where his large hands rested on her bare skin, just above a chain that hung loosely her like a belt and was decorated by several charms that chimed whenever she moved. She wore a matching white wrap skirt with layers of chiffon that were arranged like flower petals around her waist and a pair of white platform sandals that would make the shorter members of the group cry with the added boost it gave to her already impressive height.

It just so happened that when she got back from he schedules for the day, Mila had been invited to film a challenge for Le Sserafim’s new song, ‘Smart’. “You would actually eat this up, not gonna lie,” was the exactly phrasing Yunjin had used— which, to be perfectly honest, Mila wouldn’t argue with.

So of course Mila had accepted the request, because what else was she supposed to do? Besides, she had already wanted to do one in the first place: the song was constantly on her mind from the moment it released, and had her wishing that she was able to do a similar concept in the future.

“I’m going to film a challenge today with the girls,” Mila replied to Riki’s question. She looked at Riki after applying her lip gloss, their noses brushing against each other. “How does this look? It’s a new one.”

Riki’s eyes flickered down to her lips, a deep hum reverberating in his chest. He leant down and stole a kiss from her sweet lips. Mila gasped before slapping the young man in the chest, causing his chuckled to bounce off the bathroom walls with her giggles. As Riki leaned away from her hand trying to clean the lip gloss from his mouth, he furrowed his eyebrows as he swiped his tongue across his plump lower lip.

“Oh- strawberries?” he muttered in fascination.

Mila laughed at the younger’s expression. “That’s not edible, you idiot. Don’t go eating it while I’m gone.”

“Gone where?” Mila and Riki turned to see Jungwon standing at the door of the bathroom, his arms over his chest as he looked between the two. If Mila had looked, she would have noticed the way the younger male’s eyes raked over her appreciated, taking in the way her clothes perfectly complimented her figure.

“A challenge,” Mila said. “It was last minute, but Le Sserafim wanted to do one for their new song.”

She gently patted Riki’s hands, signalling for him to let go. Jungwon tilted his head as he and Riki followed the girl like lost puppies when she ventured into the kitchen, grabbing her handbag from the table. They had been so eager when their eldest noona had gone to her boyfriend’s dorms and their hyungs (save Sunoo, who was currently with one of his many non-idol friends) decided spend the night out drinking, thinking that it meant more time to spend for them to spend with Mila. But apparently, that was too much to ask of their workaholic girlfriend.

“What song are you doing?” Jungwon asked. He pulled Mila to him by the hips, lips jutted in a small pout as he rubbed his thumb against the home of the skirt, only to blink in surprise when it got caught in her waist chain. His breath caught in his chest as he slipped his finger away from the cold metal, letting it fall back onto the soft skin of Mila’s stomach. “This looks nice on you…”

Jungwon’s thumb traced a light path over the chain, smirking when he observed the slightest flex in the muscles of her abdomen. “Thanks,” Mila whispered.

Riki, not one to be forgotten, quickly, stepped behind Mila and took a seat on the chair behind her. In one swift tug, he brought the woman down on his lap. He hugged her closely with his chest against her back and his arms wrapped around her.

“I think I can guess the song,” he whispered as he placed a chaste kiss on her neck. He smiled cheekily as he slipped a finger under the chain around her waist and playfully tugged on it, evoking the childlike imagery of a young boy who would pull a girl’s pigtails to get her attention. “This doesn’t look like something you’d wear for ‘Easy’.”

Mila smiled at the youngest’s astute observation. It was hard to imagine the woman wearing such feminine clothing for a hip hop choreography. “You’re right. I’m doing ‘Smart.’”

Mila couldn’t help but be amused at the frown on Jungwon’s face as he took a hold of her hand. He gave it a light squeeze when she asked what was wrong. “Just try not to make it too sexy,” he said sulkily, “we already have too many Engenes trying to steal you away.”

“Awww, don’t worry. They’d have to get your permission first.” Mila cooed as she cupped the boy’s face and brought it down for a kiss on the lips. Mila turned to give Riki a kiss, leaving sugary lipstick marks on both of their lips as a reminder of her affections. “I have to go soon, but don’t miss me too much! Once I get back, we can cuddle and watch movies, promise.”

The two maknaes agreed (albeit sulkily) to let their girlfriend go for the night, watching as she walked away in her cute little outfit, her long legs carrying her away faster than they could turn to each other and think, The hyungs are going to go crazy.

THEY DID INDEED GO CRAZY. They were on their second button of soju when Sunghoon had pulled out his phone to check a notification he had received, only to end up freezing completely when he had clicked on it. The last thing he expected was to be directed to a video of Mila swaying her hips sensually in a miniskirt and waist chain like some sort of hypnotic effect pendulum meant to put viewers under a spell.

“What the fuck?” Sunghoon muttered under his breath, unable to tear his eyes off the screen of his phone— because damn it, why was she looking like that?

“What is it?” Jake asked, leaning over his best friend’s shoulder. The Australian male almost fell off his chair when he saw what was on Sunghoon’s screen. Jake cursed as he spilled his drink over his lap, reaching for tissues to dry the damp soaked his jeans over his thigh. “Shit!”

“What even?” Jay asked as he watched the man, both he and Heeseung having been distracted from their conversation because of Jake’s outburst. That’s when they noticed what was happening.

Sunghoon was holding his phone so close to his face it might as well be glued there. The way his eyebrows furrowed in concentration only made the two eldest males look at each other in confusion. Jay leaned forward, trying to peek at the younger male’s screen. “What are you doing?”

Sunghoon showed them the screen with a blank expression, as if saying, Look. We leave her alone for five seconds and she pulls this shit.

And like Sunghoon, the two eldest male’s had a similar initial reaction of complete silence.

Her tongue peeked out from between her plump, glossy lips and her eyes held a sultry look in them as she trailed the movement of her own hips while she turned her back to the camera. She bundled the long strands of her hair in her hands and lifted it to reveal the expanse of her back and shoulders, that damned red tattoo inked on the back of her neck.

And where did they even get started on the way her skirt (despite not being nearly as short as the stuff her stylists put her in) managed to draw attention to the curve of her ass, beset by the pinch of her waist in a way that made it impossible to look away, especially with how her hips were moving to the song.

For a while, it was completely silent and all of the completely still. But when a pair of college students in the booth next to the boys had looked over and managed to throw a not-so-discrete appreciative glance of the video on Sunghoon’s phone, the Ice Prince hastily shut it off and shoved it into the pocket of his jeans. He took his glass of soju and emptied it in a single shot, throwing his head back with the aggressiveness of which he tipped the alcohol into his mouth.

“I’ll be back,” he said, before walking towards the exit of the restaurant like a man on a mission.

“What even?” Jay turned to watch the younger man leave. “Where are you going?”

Jake eyed his best friend for a moment. He quickly excused himself to go bathroom while Jay and Heeseung were distracted by Sunghoon’s sudden exit. Then he grabbed his phone from his pocket, his fingers typing a quick message after locating Mila’s phone contact.

You: i saw your new tiktok by the way

You: how come i didn’t get a warning?

Jake bit back a smile at his girlfriend’s reply.

Baby ❤️: surprise 😘

Jake almost fell off his chair when a Weverse notification followed her text, and he opened it to find a selfie of Mila in the outfit she wore during the TikTok. It was shot at a high angle and featured a very intentional focus on the low cut of her satin top, which dipped to reveal the slightest bit of cleavage and the tattoo that trail of stars tattooed from her left shoulder to her upper left breast. The caption: ‘Hope you like my gift~’

Fuck, Jake thought as he downed another drink. His girlfrien was going to be the end of him.

From across the table, Jay looked over Heeseung’s shoulder while the latter scrolled through the comments of the TikTok, thinking the exact same thing.

user1. HELLO?? MILANA?? BAI MINGLU?? 😭

user2. okay but why did mila have to go so hard on this

user3. GYAAATT DAYUM

user4. mila rlly be risking hip replacement surgery with those moves and i’m here for it 🙌🙌

Heeseung laughed at the last comment. He wouldn’t be lying if he hadn’t thought about just physically impossible it seemed that Mila could move the way that she did — especially when it came to her hip movements — and he got to see her dance almost everyday. He closed the comments to focus back on the video, eyes drinking in every detail and every movement.

“I’m smarter, baby, smarter~” Heeseung’s eyes drifted for he chain around her waist, watching the charms as they moved with ever sway of her hips, the way her skirt would accentuate her movements and lengthen her legs. There were two other girls in the frame with her — Kazuha and Yunjin — and yet his eyes remained on her the entire time. It was like the song was made for her, and yet she wasn’t even part of the group who sang it.

As Heeseung continue to smile down at his phone with pride and adoration, Jay turned his focus to his own phone, waiting the reply to the text he had sent Mila a few seconds ago.

You: make sure you get home safely ❤️

The reply came sooner than he would have thought.

천사 ❨ angel ❩ : is that all? nothing else? ☹️

Jay chuckled at her obvious attempt to coax praise from him.

You: get home safely first and then i’ll tell you anything you want

천사 ❨ angel ❩ : okay 💔

천사 ❨ angel ❩ : then i’ll rush home as soon as i’m finished here 💨

천사 ❨ angel ❩ : safely ofc

Jay smiled.

You: good girl ❤️

At that moment, Sunghoon appeared again, taking his seat next to Jake. Upon close inspection, one would notice the slight frown on his lips as he filled his glass again, silently speaking of what occurred while he was outside.

Sunghoon wasn’t going to admit that he had sulked about his girlfriend not inviting him to a private rehearsal of the ‘Smart’ choreography.

But, well, his members knew him well enough to infer that was what happened.

MILA KNEW HER BOYFRIENDS enough to know that by the time she got home, she was in for a mixture of sulking, praise and every other thing that lay in between those things. She had her phone to her ear as she unlocked the apartment, smiling as she spoke to Sunoo on the other end of the line, as the boy was yet to arrive home from his outing with his friends.

“You could have given us a warning before you sprung that on us,” Sunoo said. “I wasn’t mentally prepared.”

“Well, I didn’t know I was doing it either until a few hours ago.”

Sunoo laughed, followed by the sound of a car door opening. “What did I do to get such a sexy girlfriend? I think your hips are going to be the only thing in my mind for the next three days. You need to let me breathe before you pull something else like that again.”

Mila hummed. “I was thinking of doing an encore performance though,” she teased. “Maybe I should cover Yunjin-eonnie’s part on the floor?”

“Byeol-ah,” Sunoo said in a serious tone, causing Mila to pause on the middle of taking off her shoes. But his next words immediately erased any worry she might have had that something was wrong. “If you get on your knees in front of a camera, don’t expect the hyungs to be able to control themselves.”

Mila burst out into laughter. “And what about you? Are you included with the ‘hyungs’?”

There was a small silence before Sunoo replied, “You know I’d last longer than any of them.”

There was a sly undertone in Sunoo’s remark, as if he were both pointing out a known fact as well as proving a point. Mila’s face heated up at the suggestion — and yet, she couldn’t find it in her to deny it. Sunoo may not be as eager to show off as the others, but that didn’t mean he had nothing to show off if he wanted to… And, well, Mila would admit Sunoo was not as easy to drive insane as her other boyfriends were.

Speaking of the devil, Mila thought amusedly, when Heeseung appeared in front of her, arms wide for a hug. Mila laughed as she wrapped her arms around his middle, letting him hug her tightly to his chest and rocking their bodies back and forth. It was clear that he wasn’t fully sober. But Mila simply let him be, allowing the older to shower her in face with aggressive kisses and giggling when he bit her cheek.

“Mila is home,” Jay announced as he walked over to the duo, eyes warm with mirth as he looked Mila up and down. “You’re back now?”

Mila nodded. “Safely,” she said, reiterating their conversation through text earlier on. Jay smiled and stroked the top of her head.

“Good job today, you were perfect.”

Mila chirped a thank you in response, basking in the older male’s praises. At that moment, Sunghoon and Jake appeared from inside the shared bedroom of Sunoo, Sunghoon, Riki and Jungwon. Heeseung pulled away from Mila, allowing her to be swept away by Sunghoon who wrapped his arms around her shoulders from behind and and pulled her to his chest.

“Finally,” he mumbled as he rested his cheek against hers. “Your TikTok filming took forever.”

Jake reached out to her waist, his eyes trained on the chain around her waist much like Jungwon had before Mila left. He didn’t say anything, simply admiring her while Sunghoon clung to her, seeking her affection. Mila giggled and kissed him on the lips. She only intended it to last for a second, but Sunghoon cupped her jaw, turning her head to him to grant him better access to her lips.

He swiped his tongue across her bottom lip, causing Mila to emit a small whine when he nibbled on the soft flesh with the point of his canine fangs. Sunghoon chuckled, before pulling back, unable to contain his amusement at her reactions.

“What was that for?” she protested. She looked at Heeseung. “Oppa, he bit me. Look.”

Heeseung chuckled. “Where? Let me see.” He tilted her chin up, his thumb brushing against her plush lower lip which jutted out as she pouted. Meanwhile, Sunghoon scoffed, lightly knocking away Heeseung’s hand. It just so happened that the door to the dorm opened, signalling Sunoo’s return from his outing.

“Oh, he’s back,” Sunghoon said. “I’m going to see if he bought the thing I asked from him.”

“Anyway,” Jay said with a smile, “Sunoo’s back now. Why don’t you get changed so we can watch a move together like you mentioned before? I’ll go get the movie set up.”

Heeseung followed him. “I’ll come with you.”

“Okay, then I’ll go get changed,” Mila said.”

Jake suddenly snapped out of his reverie, as if someone slapped him in the face. “Oh— wait a second… Why not wear it for a little longer? And you know… maybe even show us the dance again.”

Jake’s words caused Mila to burst out laughing. She playfully pushed him by the shoulder, but he chuckled his hand gripping her by the waist and pulling her with him as he staggered backwards.

“What?” Jake asked with a pout. “Don’t you love us anymore? Your poor boyfriends want to see you dance, is that too much to ask for?”

Mila rolled her eyes, pushing the male down onto the couch. “I doubt dancing is the only thing you want to see.” Mila smiled as she took a seat on Jake’s lap, her arms around his neck. She smiled sultry as she leaned into his ear, her lips brushing against his earlobe. “See if you can leave the movie early. I’ll show you then.”

Jake was almost embarrassed at how quickly he agreed. But then again, who was he to refuse? He had to play it smart.

BONUS SCENE. ‘WORK HARD IN SECRET’

“I’m smarter baby, smarter. Smarter baby, smarter.” Mila sang softly as she walked to her room, taking her earrings off along the way. She couldn’t wait to get changed into her pyjamas and cuddle with her boyfriends. She opened the door, only to jump in surprise when she saw Jungwon lying on her bed.

Mila laughed. “You scared me.” She walked to the bed and placed her earrings on the bedside table. “What are you doing in here? I thought you and Riki went to buy ice cream.”

They had texted her just as she was nearing the house that they went on a walk together, so she hadn’t expected to find Jungwon waiting for her inside her room. “We got back not long before you. Ni-ki went to shower and the hyungs were too loud so I decided to hide here until you got back.”

Mila hummed, not suspecting anything of the younger boy’s explanation. But she didn’t know the full story behind why Jungwon was here: in truth, since watching her TikTok challenge for ‘Smart,’ he already had a feeling that one of the hyungs would steal her away for the night. So naturally, he decided to get to her first, so that they could have alone time together.

But that was neither here nor there.

Jungwon sat up on Mila’s bed, watching as she removed the bracelet from her wrist. She began to reach for the clasp of their waist chain, only to be stopped by Jungwon’s hand reaching out to grasp hers. The woman raised a questioning brow as Jungwon pulled her towards him.

“Leave it on,” Jungwon said. He smiled as he pulled her in between his legs, his hands resting on her waist where the chain lay. “I like how it looks on you.”

Mila smiled, leaning towards him, so that her hands rested on his neck. They then smoothed their way down the breadth of his shoulders, reminding her of just how broad they were. “Yeah?”

Jungwon hummed deeply. “Especially when you were dancing.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, dark eyes taking in the sight of Mila before him. He was reminded of the way she moved when she danced, hips swaying rhythmically and effortlessly. His hands tightened around her waist, thumbs seeking the coolness of her chain. Mila smiled, endeared by his expressiveness. She leant down to place a soft kiss on his lips with the full intention of making it short and sweet.

But she was taken off guard when he suddenly hooked his hands behind her thighs and tugged her down on to his lap so that she straddled his waist, her skirt hiking up to expose more of her thighs and their bare skin to his touch. But despite her surprise, she didn’t fight him. Nor did she want to.

Mila could only surrender to the strength of his hold on her, knowing well she wouldn’t be able to escape — not that she wanted to anyway. She fully welcomed the possessive touch of his mouth as it devoured hers, lips locked in a passionate exchange of strawberry lip gloss and traces of vanilla ice cream.

Jungwon hummed when Mila’s nails scratched against his scalp and her slender fingers dragged their way through his hair, bringing his mouth closer to hers. At the same time, he pulled her even closer than before, his fingers massaging their way up her soft thighs and beneath her skirt, until the palms of his hand rested just underneath the curve of her ass.

He kept his hands there, using them to press Mila even closer against him, her soft breasts pressed against his firm chest and plush thighs bracketing both of his sturdy ones. The only barrier between them was their clothes. As his tongue swiped across her fleshy pout, licking the taste of strawberries clean from her lip, she mewled softly against his mouth, melting against him completely.

And later, when Mila left her room with a pair of swollen lips and a poorly hidden hickey, Jungwon’s hyungs were left wondering when their baby leader became such a cunning feline.

Perhaps, they thought, he was the real smart one here.

NOTE jokes on the hyung line, they got upstaged by one of their maknaes 🥴 but srsly jungwon is drelt becoming such a problem - like he turned 20 and chose violence… that man needs to stop 🫠 on another note it’s my first time writing smth this spicy for him since he became an adult last year, funny it took me this long to even write about him making out with know touching and stuff 😆

TAGLIST. @em1ejiee @menichoi

#◌ 🌸 ˴ milana bai . ˚◞ ★̶̲ ꒱#enhypen female oc #enhypen 8th member #enhypen added member #enhypen eight member #enhypen extra member #enhypen female member #enhypen fem oc #enhypen x oc #enhypen female addition #enhypen oc #enhypen addition #enhypen poly #kpop added member #kpop female addition #kpop female member #kpop oc #kpop female oc #kpop addition

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womenofwrestlingfashion · 11 months

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Megan Morant is wearing the Kamala Silk Bomber Jacket (on sale for $78.75) and Kendall High Waist Wide Leg Silk Pant (on sale for $55.20) from I Love Tyler Madison, along with the Mallory Dress Sandal in Gold Metallic Snake Leather from Naturalizer ($140)

#Megan morant #Megan Connolly #Kamala Silk Bomber Jacket #bomber jacket #jacket #jackets #Kendall High Waist Wide Leg Silk Pant #pant #pants #orange #I Love Tyler Madison #Mallory Dress Sandal #sandal #sandals #Gold Metallic Snake Leather #Naturalizer #women of wrestling fashion #wwe

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aemondtargaryenonlyfans · 8 months

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GUILELESS.

Daemon Targaryen x Martell!Reader

The streets of Flea Bottom most definitely were not the place a noblewoman like you should seek out at night, but tonight marked one of the last nights you got to enjoy your freedom for you were to wed in four days.

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT–MINORS DNI; CNC, DUB-CON, p in v, roleplay, profanity, tiddy fucking, degrading, punishing, humiliating, public sex, slight oral (m receiving) and overstimulation, blink and you‘ll miss the breeding and size kink, vague description of fem!Martell!Reader (dark hair, dark eyes, small body)

WORDS: 2.6 K

NOTES: Killing two birds with one stone with this thing. Written for this and this request.

The streets of Flea Bottom were in an uproar with hundreds of gold cloaks roaming around to restore law and order in the foulest and most lawless district of the Westerosi capital. It most definitely was not the place a noblewoman like you should seek out, but tonight marked one of the last nights you got to enjoy your freedom for you were to wed in four days.

Your reddish gown had been replaced by the clothes of a boy. A wide, black tunic and gray breeches hid your body, and your long, brown curls were covered by a black cloak. The boots you wore were surprisingly more comfortable than the sandals you wore around court, yet they were not at all appropriate to be paired to the finest, dornish silk you usually donned.

On your way through the dimly lit alleyways, you bumped shoulders with more than one commoner that fled the scene you were too eager to see. Coming closer to the source of the agonizing screams, you stopped just short of the crowd, barely out of the alleyway.

To your left was a pillow house, the ornate lamp of gilded metal and scarlet glass swung over the door casting you in a red light. You tried to move further and squeeze past the wall of curious bystanders, before your wrist was seized by something firm that caused you to gasp.

“A lady like you should be careful wandering the streets alone at such hour,” a deep voice drawled out. As you turned around, you immediately noticed who had you in a tight hold, the long, silver strands of hair peeking from beneath the helmet a dead giveaway–just like the surcoat depicting the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen that none of the other gold cloaks around you wore. Daemon Targaryen, Lord Commander of the City Watch.

You straightened your back, and decided not to show any of your emotions. Especially not the nervousness that soared through your veins. “I shall have you know that I am no lady,” you replied sternly, though there was a slight tremble in your smooth voice, “I am to be a princess soon.”

That seemed to amuse the man, your intimidation tactic clearly not working. “Oh, you most certainly are,” he replied with a mocking tone, “that is why I have found you in Flea Bottom, hm, dressed like what… a little boy?” Now there was a slight hint of uneasiness accompanying his words and presence, which had a shiver running up your spine. “As your princess, I command you to let go of me,” you pressed, trying to tug your arm back – but to no avail.

“You are a feisty little thing,” the gold cloak murmured with a sly smile. “It is a shame you are nothing more than a pretender. You would have made an excellent wife.” He didn’t even allow you to give him a reply, before his hand found the back of your neck to shove you into the pillow house to your left you had examined not long before.

Upon stumbling inside, you noticed that it was no pillow house but a simple brothel instead. Older wenches with more flesh to their hips and a used appearance did not hone the low quality the common room presented itself in. Considering the size of the crowd in front of the etablissement, it was surprising to spot not so many patrons inside.

“I–What–”

“I shall have you punished for those treacherous antics,” he barked, effectively cutting you off. The light tap he gave your rear caught you off guard, however, it was solely a ruse meant to distract you from both his hands grabbing the waistband of your breeches and undergarments to rather forcefully tug them down your body. It was nothing else than luck that the tunic you wore was long enough to cover your cunt for anyone that dared to catch a glimpse.

You gasped, and seized his hand on your hip that threatened to dive forwards between your legs. “My lord,” you protested, pretending that you did not know whose chest was pressed flush to your back, “you should not– I–”

Before you could protest even more, he had hauled you up against the breastplate of his armor, and you could merely look at him from over your shoulder, your dark eyes filled with lust. You started to struggle against his hold, yet his muscular arms snaked around your frame made it obvious you didn't stand a chance.

“Please, no,” you whimpered.

“Silence,” he bellowed, carrying you through the common room of the brothel to an alcove that granted you just some more privacy. While you were dropped unceremoniously on a chaise standing nearby, he brought a large hand up to the back of your neck, applying a good bit of pressure so you were kneeling on the chaise with your arse up and face down.

From behind you, you could hear a satisfied groan, no doubt spotting the glistening shimmer on your cunt from how aroused you were. When his calloused finger dragged through your soaked mound, you could not stifle a moan to leave your lips.

“Please, stop, my lord, I am still a maiden,” you whimpered, trying to get back up only to be pushed down again forceful enough to have you grunting just once. “Stay,” he warned, and you were foolish to not obey his command. You could faintly hear his hands fumbling with the buckles along the breastplate of his armor, your heartbeat pounding in your ears loud enough to almost drown out every other sound, removing them and allowing the steel to fall to the ground – piece after piece following in its wake. “I am betrothed,” you tried to reason.

You gasped as his hand served a firmer slap to your arse this time, the gentle rubbing of his palm not at all mending the stinging pain. “And you still will be once I am done with you,” came his stern reply. He dragged two fingers through your mound, from your entrance to the little bud, retorting to rubbing mindless patterns over it that had you pushing your hips against his fingers for a moment to chase the friction. Despite the moans that left your lips, you tried to snake your hand between your thighs to cover your cunt and arse, but he was quick enough to capture both your hands, bringing them together behind you to pin them to your back with one hand.

The gold cloak was skilled enough to unlace his breeches one-handed, freeing his cock out of its confines. “I shall refrain from spending my seed inside of your cunt for I do not desire to dishonor your betrothed,” he mumbled, his voice taking on a rougher edge.

“Do not do this, please,” you released a shaky breath, and every protest that threatened to follow caught in your throat the moment he dragged the tip of his cock through your swollen folds, resuming the movements he had previously made with his fingers.

The attempt to resist him was cut short when his cock breached your core, pushing into you at a teasingly slow pace that had you drawing in a sharp breath. “Your betrothed might get to breed you, but I took your maidenhead. You do best to remember that when he lays his filthy hands on you,” he groaned. The moment you stretched around him, all you could choke out was ‘yes, yes, yes,’ being in a stupor because of his cock.

With his hand still around your wrists, he pulled you onto his cock until his hips pressed against your rear, taking his time to adjust to your tightness. The ‘Gods’ he muttered under his breath didn’t go unnoticed by you, and it appeared that he didn’t know where to place his free hand as it squeezed your arse, tugged on your hair and eventually settled in the curve of your waist.

He pounded into you with reckless abandon, the tip of his cock brushing the spot inside of you that had your vision grow blurry over and over again. With your face pressed into a pillow resting on the chaise, you were not able to spot the feigned anger and jealousy blazing in his eyes. The only thing that made you aware of the amusement he found in that situation was the tone of his husky voice, making it more than clear that he had a smirk on his lips. “When I am done with you,” he rasped, bowing forward to put more of his weight on your small frame beneath his. “You shall desire no one else’s cock but mine.”

“Yes–” he interrupted your answer with a hard, percussive thrust, and then another, and another, until you couldn't focus on anything else but the delicious pressure inside your cunt. You pushed your hips back against him, and he reared up to pull you back with each of his thrusts, meeting him halfway which resulted in the lewd sounds of skin slapping on skin bouncing off the walls. The position you were in, with your face pressed into the pillow, granted you some sense of feigned privacy, because otherwise you would have noticed some curious eyes lingering on you two whenever one of the customers or whores decided to prowl the scene unfolding.

“Let’s see how much you desire your betrothed’s cock after this.”

When his hips stilled, and the pleasure in the pit of your belly eased, you propped yourself up on your hands with his vice-like grip suddenly gone. You looked at him from over your shoulder, and if you were not so lost in the sight of him behind you, you would have pouted when he gripped the neckline of your tunic to rip the linen to shreds as if it was nothing, exposing the last bit of your body to the sticky air of the brothel.

His skin was glistening in the dim light the candles granted, small beads of sweat highlighting his muscles. His upper body was defined by numerous cuts and scars, a testament to the dangers he had survived in his short life already. As he glanced down to where his clock disappeared inside of you, strands of his silver hair fell into his face, framing his chiseled features. You were so focused on enjoying the view that you did not immediately catch on to what he had said to you, the words not registering in your mind.

It seemed that his patience was not infinite as he grabbed your waist and hoisted you up as if you weighed nothing, settling you down on the cold floor so you sat on your haunches. He sat down on the chaise with his legs spread, his thick cock flush against his lower stomach, and straining as he leaned back, hands resting on his muscular thighs. You tilted your head, affecting a look of defiance. His eyes flickered over your frame, taking in every exposed inch of skin, and he couldn't help but smirk. “I said I shall not dishonor your betrothed, did I not?” he said, and almost dismissively waved his hand in order for you to continue.

You took that as your cue to use your hands and mouth to coax him towards his peak, however, when you reached to grasp the base of his member, the dragon in front of you merely tsked. Without saying a word, he bowed forwards and brought his paw-like hands to the sides of your breasts, squeezing them together. At the realization of what he had in mind, your eyes widened in surprise, and when he raised an eyebrow with a slight tilt of his head, you knew what was expected of you.

While his hands merely released your breasts to allow you to lean forwards, it was your hand that fisted the base of his cock, still thoroughly lubricated with your arousal. You positioned yourself so his cock rested in the Vale between your breasts, only for him to squeeze them together around it again. “Good girl,“ he praised, and you craned your neck to give a teasing lick along the slit at the tip of his cock, which prompted the prince to take in a sharp breath.

He replied by bucking his hips up, his cock bumping against your slightly parted lips. While he smirked at you in a smug manner, you released a surprised gasp, your eyes flickering between his violet ones and his cock. With his hands on your breasts, he kept them pressed tightly around his member, using the crevice between them to race for completion. You raised and lowered your body in rhythm with his hips, licking and kissing the tip of his cock whenever it came close enough to your lips.

His fingers pinched and brushed the perky buds of your breasts, causing you to release one whimper after the other. It was a titillating sight, watching how your expression shifted to a more focused one as you moved your body for his pleasure, ignoring the throbbing at the apex of your legs as best as you could.

“What an obedient, little wench I have found on the streets of Flea Bottom,” he groaned, his voice raspier, indicating that he was close to reaching his peak. “So willing to please the Lord Commander of the City Watch. Do you like watching me fuck those perfect teats of yours?” You couldn't help but whine, a slight blush creeping onto your cheeks at his words like they were the most embarrassing thing you had ever heard. Dornish people were known for their sexual licentiousness, but that man in front of you seemed to top just that.

“Will you claim me, my lord?” you asked, innocently batting your eyelashes at him. But with his peak approaching him rather quickly, the last threads of his patience seemed to snap as he growled a ‘Tis husband for you’ in return, the thoughts of your well-schemed ploy long forgotten at the aspect of spending himself all over you, claiming you. With a strangled groan, Daemon reached his completion, his cock spurting between your breasts and onto your chest, throat, lips and even your tongue. The pinch on your perky buds turned painfully tight with the pleasure soaring through his veins, causing you to squirm a bit, and it took a moment for the tension to slowly subside.

He watched with hooded eyes as you licked his seed off the skin your tongue could reach, and when your hands came up to peel him off of you, there didn’t come any objection from him. You wrapped your lips around his cock, and took as much of him down your throat as possible. He breathed heavily as he bowed forwards, looming over you as he took in the debauched sight in front of him.

Daemon shivered and grunted as you cleaned him up, the overstimulation making him sensitive to your touch, and he fisted your hair to pull you off of him. With the remnants of his seed still on your chin, you smiled up at him, and you could see his flaccid cock slowly growing hard again. You rested your cheek on his thigh, staring up at him as you lazily tugged him to full hardness again

“Gods,” he groaned, the bump in his throat bobbing in anticipation. “I love you, t–,” you replied, the last word catching in your throat as he hoisted you up to straddle his hips. His hard cock was nestled between your bodies, and your arms immediately wrapped around his neck, fingers entangling in the strands of his silver hair.

“I am going to make you peak, and then I am fucking you until you can no longer walk and you are carrying my child,” he mumbled into the curve of your neck, sucking in your skin to leave some faint marks. “Just to show you how much I love you, wife.”

General Taglist: @aemondx @watercolorskyy @nothingqueens @urmomsgirlfriend1

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pls-hold-me-im-justa-weeb · 3 months

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Torn Apart pt. 3

So it's been a while and I went through a kinda depression phase, but I'M BACK with chapter 3 at least, and chapter 4 is in the works. I will set up a poll to see how y'all want it to end because I just can't decide.

TW's: Reader is kinda drugged but is funny, talk of pain, talk of the trauma and the fight with Zoro.

And yes, to the person who asked if I'd seen Violet Evergarden, I love it so much and her hands are what I'm mostly thinking of when writing <3

You sighed deeply and slowly, eyes still closed in partial slumber. You were waking up, groggy as all hell but still conscious. Your brows furrowed before you pried open your eyes into slits, before opening them further once you realized you were in a dimly lit room.

“There ya are” a voice said. You recognized it, and knew it was safe, but the man’s name escaped your grasp. You heard various beeping in the background, and you felt like you were dreaming.

“Wha…?” you slurred, smacking your lips as you noticed your mouth was dry. You blinked slowly again.

“You’re going to be groggy for a bit, but everything was successful and went smoothly” the voice said. It was soothing, hearing him talk. You finally focused on him, sitting in the corner of the room on a chair. He stood, and your eyes lagged to follow his movements.

“Law” you whispered in recognition as the light hit his face. You could feel yourself smiling dopily.

“You’re so pretty, Law” you slurred. You wanted to touch his face, feel his beard and sideburns, to feel the heat from his tanned skin as he blushed at your compliment. Your arm twitched, but didn’t move completely off the bed. You scowled at it before it crashed into you.

Your arm.

You had arms.

The surgery. The arms. It worked!

You looked up at Law, tears filling your eyes as you looked at him with true, unfiltered gratitude. He paused at your tears.

“Does it hurt? Are you in pain?” he quickly bent over to check your shoulders but you shakily raised one hand to touch his face. You could feel the echoes of his skin and the coarseness of his sideburns and beard.

“I can touch you,” you said softly. A wide smile puffed your cheeks and you laughed a little in disbelief. Law smiled a little, just a small quirk of his lips, and put his hand on the back of yours.

“Yeah. But are you in pain?” he asked again. You stared at his hand, resting on top of yours. You could feel the heat of it, and how warm he was. More tears flowed with your happiness. You sniffed, finally taking stock of your body. The sites of the attachments were stinging and throbbing, but it was tolerable.

“Yeah but it’s not bad” you finally said. Law sighed in relief, put your hand back on the bed, and stood upright.

“Good. It should be painful, but not so bad it's unbearable and you shouldn’t be numb. I’ll go get your crew,” he said. You nodded, still unable to wipe the smile off your face. He walked quickly to the door and opened it. His soft voice floated back to you as you bent both arms at the elbow to look at your hands.

They were incredible, intricate pieces that were made of metal. The silver gleam was dulled in the light that was only provided by a lamp on the small table across the room, but it was the best thing you’ve ever laid eyes on. You tried clenching and unclenching your fist, checking out the movement. It was choppy, and it hurt like a bitch at the attachment sites, but they worked. Your dazed study of your arms was interrupted by Law yelling at your captain.

“Oi! Mugiwara-ya! Be fucking gentle! I won’t have you screwing up my work!”

You heard Luffy and the crew running towards your room way before you saw any faces. Luffy’s slap of his sandals, Franky’s metal arms pumping, Usopp screeching as he got run over by Nami, who was wearing heels. You heard the two different taps of dress shoes from both Sanji and Brook. Luffy’s rubber hands gripped the doorframe and he shot himself past your room before letting his body pull him back so he could jump off the adjacent wall and fly into your room. He skidded to a halt at the side of your bed, eyes twinkling and a huge, toothy smile on his face. You noticed Chopper was hanging onto his shoulder for dear life, but popped up to see how you were doing.

“Shihihihihi~ You’re awake! You have suuuuuper cool robot arms! Man, I have the coolest crew. Are you hungry? Should Sanji to cook you something? Can he make you meat?” Luffy fired questions at you one after the other. In your groggy state of mind, the words jumbled together, but you were saved by Chopper, who hopped onto your bed gently.

“Shut up, Luffy! Patient’s are usually confused and groggy when they first wake up. And no, no meat right now- that’s just an excuse for you to eat more meat!” Chopper chided Luffy. You couldn’t help but smile at the reindeer. He’s just too cute.

“Cute” you mumbled. You wanted to squish his face. Your arms were still bent at the elbow, and you let Chopper gently crawl up your body to sit on your stomach.

“Squish squish” you slurred, pinching his cheeks. He cried out in pain a little but there was still a smile fighting to stay on his face. He pulled his cheeks free from your grip and giggled while rubbing the sore spots.

“Well it looks like we need to train fine motor skills, but that’s to be expected,” he said. His words washed over you, the meaning clicking in your mind somewhere, but not coming to the forefront. You were distracted by movement by the doorway. Sanji and Franky were trying to shove each other out of the way to get into the door first, but Nami’s well-planted foot on Franky’s butt caused him to stumble into the room first, but he caught himself and seemed to materialize by your bedside. Nami entered second, as Sanji let her go first, before cutting in front of Usopp. You blinked slowly, and suddenly your bed was surrounded by your crew. Well, all except one. You looked at Luffy, who started asking about what kind of cool robot things you could do now, and Chopper tried desperately to answer for you. You looked at Franky next, and he got closer to you with a smile.

��Heya, kiddo. Ya got’cha suuuuperrrrr arms. Everything went well! Law is a super surgeon, and with a little bit of physical therapy and training, you should get used to the arms in no time,” he said. You looked at him, blinking slowly as the words sunk in and the meaning clicked. You smiled up at him.

“I love you like a brother. My big brother. I’ll protect you, cuz we’re twin-sies,” you murmured, raising your hand. He clasped it, tears starting to form in his eyes at your drugged words. Your grip tightened in mechanical increments around his, and you flinched a little as the attachment sites stung. He let go of your hand, and brought it down to rest on your stomach.

“You need to let the sites heal a little more before you really start using it,” he said around tears streaming down his face. You hummed a little in response, letting your gaze wander. It landed on Sanji, who was hovering uncertainly on your other side.

“Hey, cook” you greeted softly. Sanji’s lip quivered a little but he broke out in a smile.

“Hey, my little fighter, do you need anything? Water? Food?” he asked, reaching out gently to stroke your hair. You let yourself nuzzle into his hand.

“So kind, Sanji. So nice, and strong, and kind. Did I say that already?” You slurred your words slightly. His hand froze on your head, and you whined a little when he stopped stroking your hair. You looked at him with a small pout. His cheeks were a bright red, and he was looking at you, lips parted with shock. You let your head fall more into his hand.

“More” you mumbled. He immediately started back up again, and you closed your eyes briefly with a hum. Sounds of indignation from Brook brought your gaze to him, and he reached out with a tentative hand.

“May I please… see your panties?” he asked solemnly. Nami whacked his skull as you giggled a little.

“I haven’t heard that in a while. Did I change that much?” you asked him, a small smile on your face. The crew quieted at your question, before Nami spoke up.

“No sweetie. You haven’t changed much at all, it’s just that we got scared. You were so hurt, that we didn’t know how to act around you,” she said quietly. You hummed. Sanji’s hand kept stroking your hair.

“Like Zoro. He was scared, and guilty, and only got that out in anger” you said, brow furrowing. The words you were trying to say weren’t coming out as clearly as you wanted. The crew was silent for a moment.

“Yes, he was, and is, feeling scared and guilty” Robin answered. You nodded once in confirmation, smiling at the fact that they still understood what you were trying to say. You looked up at Sanji, smiling proudly.

“Just like you said,” you whispered loudly. He smiled sadly down at you, tears brimming his eyes.

“Yeah. Just like I said” he murmured. A snorting sniff attracted your attention, and you looked at Usopp, who was obviously fighting back tears.

“Hey Usopp, did it hurt your mother when she gave birth to a baby with such a big nose?” you asked seriously. Franky snorted a laugh, shocked by your question. Brook started laughing so hard he ended up on his knees and elbows, crashing a fist into the floor as he repeated your question breathlessly. Luffy started laughing wildly, Chopper right beside him, and you smiled at the sound. Nami sank into a chair, clutching her stomach as she laughed. Robin giggled behind her hand, and Usopp stared at you with a shocked expression.

“I uh… I don’t know” he said finally, before erupting into giggles. You hummed, looking at Sanji, who was laughing loudly. You smiled at him. He was gorgeous like this. Laughter suited him well.

You didn’t realize you said it out loud until he was looking down at you in surprise, a grin on his face as his cheeks turned pink. The rest of the crew was still ganging up on Usopp, teasing about his long nose.

“Thank you, but you are much more gorgeous than I could ever be,” he answered. You giggled, a dumb joke coming to mind.

“I think I’ll shine brighter now that I’m part metal” you said, grinning up at him. He fought back tears at your drugged giddiness. A wave of exhaustion swept through your body, and you relaxed completely against your pillow.

“Okay that’s it. Everyone out,” Law chided from the doorway. Robin, Nami, Brook and Usopp filed out with various well wishes. Sanji soothed a hand over your hair one more time before dropping a light kiss against your forehead. You hardly registered it through your exhaustion, eyes drooping and a hum of contentment was pulled unconsciously from your chest.

“Bonne nuit, fais de beaux rêves, mon Ange” (goodnight, sweet dreams, my angel) Sanji whispered. You didn’t have a clue what he said, but you knew it was something sweet. Luffy sat down on the chair that Law had previously sat in, obviously not going anywhere. You faded off to sleep as you heard Franky, Chopper, and Law murmuring at the foot of your bed.

As you drifted in and out of consciousness, you felt strange, pain echoing in your shoulders and attachment sites, spreading to an odd sensation in your arms. You could feel things, and they didn’t exactly hurt, but it was really uncomfortable. You were interrupted through the night by Law’s crew, taking turns to check your vitals and healing through the night. Luffy sprawled out on the chairs, snoring loudly, and you found the comfort of familiarity in the sound.

The next few days passed in a blur, your memory and time perception altered by the pain drugs Law was administering through your neck IV. In your bouts of consciousness, you managed to eat broth and light meals prepared by Sanji that were packed with nutrition. He fed you the broth, your arm still movements too jerky to keep the liquid balanced on the spoon, but watched you carefully as you fed yourself bite-sized pieces of fruit that he stabbed with a fork and handed to you. You accidentally bent a few forks at first when you grabbed it, but Franky walked you through practicing your fine motor skills. At least now you weren’t bending forks every time you tried to eat a piece of apple. Law actually had a difficult time keeping your crew from overwhelming you, and muttered under his breath when he was checking your surgery sites about how it was like herding animals. You remember bits of Law keeping you company when you were unable to sleep during the dead of night from your naps during the day. He sat with his textbooks in his lap beside your bed and told you intriguing facts and topics from his studies. He sometimes fell asleep in the chair, and you remembered inviting him to sleep with you instead of in the chair. His cheeks turned bright red as he swiftly excused himself saying that he heard his crew calling him.

The rest of the Straw Hat Pirates kept you company through the day, much like they did when you were recovering on the Sunny. Franky and Usopp teamed up to design ‘sleeves’ to go over your metal arms when you wanted ‘skin’ over them. Usopp designed various color, black, and even metallic tattoos to go on some, and others had freckles or smooth skin. Some even had long, painted and fancy nails that you could even use like needle-like knives. Anything you could ever want your arms and hands to look like could happen. They blended seamlessly with your natural skin tone, and covered the attachment sites to protect them. Usopp and Franky finished the first one while you were still recovering, bursting into the room excitedly as you were sitting and chatting with a mixture of your crew and Law’s crew. Everyone startled for a second at the sound, but calmed once Franky’s bright smile shone and Usopp’s voice began to exaggerate the effort that went into the project. You eyed the sleeve with curiosity. It was basically like a glove made of synthetic skin, made out of the same material Franky used on himself.

“What design is this one?” you asked excitedly. Franky snatched the sleeve from Usopp and held it up, but you still couldn’t quite make out what the tattoos were.

“Hold out your left arm and close your eyes,” he instructed. You grinned and did as you were told. The cyborg gently slid the glove on your metal arm, making sure not to force it when something got caught. The pressure was still uncomfortable on your attachment sites, but it wasn’t exactly painful. You felt his fingers brush over the highly sensitive skin of the sites, and you jerked away from the sudden sensation.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“It’s okay. They’re just really sensitive,” you answered. Franky hummed a little, carefully pulling the sleeve away from the metal and skin as he pulled it the rest of the way up.

“They’ll likely be for a little while longer, unfortunately. But this will help protect them, and won’t rub against it,” he answered. He finally stopped fidgeting with the sleeve and pulled back.

“Alright. Open your eyes,” he said proudly. Your eyes opened, gaze going directly to your arm. It was… stunning. A sleeve of your dream tattoos swirled on your skin, looking freshly healed and vibrant. You moved your arm, elbow bending and circled your wrist. The material moved exactly like skin, and your eyes traveled to where the attachment site should be. It was covered and the top of the sleeve thinned into featherlight nothingness as it blended into your shoulder.

“Wow” you whispered under your breath. You knew the material was synthesized to be stronger than normal skin, resistant to blades, bullets, and heat. Your brows scrunched upwards, and you fought back tears as a smile curved your mouth. Words of gratitude bubbled in your throat, too many to express coherently. Tears spilled down your cheeks as a laugh forced its way out. You simply held your hands out for a hug, one metal and one seemingly flesh. Both men grinned as tears welled up in their own eyes, and they hugged you at the same time.

“Thank you” you whispered. It didn’t feel enough, but there weren’t words deep enough to express your gratitude.

“Of course!”

“Always,” they answered in tandem. More laughter rose from your chest as you pulled back to inspect the sleeve some more. You noticed the texture of it, and the wrinkles indicating your knuckles. There were even ‘calluses’ on your fingers, and lines on your palm. The only thing different from real skin was that the sleeve was devoid of hair. Franky had explained earlier that putting fibers like that on would pierce through the material, and weaken it somehow, but it was a small detail you were willing to give up.

“It’s incredible work” you said in a hushed tone. You finally noticed the rest of the visitors were crowded around on the other side of the bed, getting a closer look at your sleeve. You held out your arm, and various fingers reached out to touch it and trace over the lines of your tattoos. You could feel it all. It was distant, but you were assured that you would be able to feel everything as much as possible in the next few months.

You couldn’t stop smiling and staring at your arm until it was time to take it off so Law could check your attachment sites.

“You’re healing really well,” he said quietly. You smiled up at him, but looked away when your heart flipped as he returned your smile with a tiny one of his own.

“Is that a compliment?” you asked teasingly. Law scoffed and rolled his eyes playfully.

“You wish. A compliment to Chopper-ya and Franky-ya, and to myself,” he muttered. You giggled. Your ribs were still sore with the movement, but apparently Law did something while you were in surgery to speed up the healing of your ribs and sternum. You watched him as he leaned over you, his eyes focused on your attachment sites as he moved your arm about.

“Law?”

“Hmm?”

“I’ve been in this bed for days. When can I start moving and gods above, when can I bathe?” you pleaded. Law sighed.

“Yeah, you're right. You do smell,” he said as he pulled back to walk around the bed to check your other arm. You rolled your eyes.

“I know. If you’d let me, I’d be on my knees begging you to have mercy but you won’t let me out of bed,” you huffed. Law’s face flushed and he cleared his throat loudly. The double meaning of your words slammed into you and your cheeks heated with embarrassment. Your thoughts had drifted to thoughts of him in terms of… bedroom activities, but that was because you were so bored! It had been a week, and during that time, you were only allowed out of bed to go to the bathroom under strict supervision.

“I didn’t mean it like that… I mean I wouldn’t be opposed but- I mean I just think you’re ho- um. Attractive? But of course I’m sure you know that and get told that a lot, even though you’re a sadistic dork, which is quite an impressive contradiction… right? And I’ll just shut up now,” you stumbled through your attempt at correcting yourself desperately, looking anywhere but the man standing at your side. The words kept flowing out of your mouth, digging yourself into a deeper hole with each syllable. Your cheeks were burning, and you felt heat all over your face from your embarrassment. Silence seeped into the air thick with your humiliating words. You felt like it lasted for much longer than you know it did, and it was only interrupted by Law letting out a small chuckle. You sighed and hid your face behind your hands. The cool metal pressed against your heated face, and you groaned both in relief and embarrassment.

“A hot, sadistic dork, huh?” he teased in a low voice. You made a noise in your throat- somewhere between a squeak and a groan. You distantly felt him touch the back of your hands, trying to pull them away from your face. You resisted, and hissed a little in pain when the attachment sites burned with the effort. He pulled back immediately, his cool hands tracing your skin and checking the sites to make sure nothing was injured. Your hands had fallen from your face and the burning eased quickly, and you could only focus on his golden eyes tracing over your skin and his cool hands maneuvering your arm. His piercing gaze found your admiring one and you yanked your gaze to your arm. The attachment site was completely fine.

“You like that I’m a hot sadistic dork, don’t you?” he murmured. You could hear the amused smirk in his voice, and you looked resolutely up at the ceiling, not looking at him.

“You changed my life with these. I think you’re an amazing surgeon and our ally and friend” you said carefully, raising your hands briefly to demonstrate your point. Your cheeks still felt hot.

“That didn’t answer my question,” he answered teasingly. You huffed a sigh, closing your eyes as you let your head fall onto your pillow. You felt him place his hands on the mattress near your shoulder and lean over you to check the other attachment site. Your heart flipped.

“Fine. Yes. I like that you’re a stupidly hot, smart, nerdy, sadistic dork” you answered with faux annoyance. You opened your eyes with a scowl, wishing you could control your arms gently enough to cross your arms over your chest. He was peering down at you from above, gold eyes pinning you to the bed with mirth and amusement. A stupidly sexy smirk curved his lips.

“See? It wasn’t that hard to admit now, was it?” His eyes flicked to your lips before meeting your gaze again. He swallowed hard, and you followed the movement, trailing your eyes from his throat down to his toned, tattooed chest. You ripped your eyes back up to his gaze, now highly amused by your obvious actions. Guilt stabbed through you, and you looked away, turning your head to the side.

“Kinda was,” you said easily. Law pushed back so he was standing upright, and sat down in a chair. There was a moment of comfortable silence.

“You were with Zoro-ya, weren’t you?” he asked quietly. You sighed heavily.

“Yeah. I was. For a few years” you answered. Law hummed.

“So your type is men with big swords?” he asked cheekily. You looked over at him quickly in surprise, before laughing in shock and at his joke.

“Yeah I guess so” you said around giggles. Law smiled gently at you. It was late, and he had kicked your crewmates off his ship for the night. You didn’t need to be checked on through the night anymore, so his crew was catching up on sleep if they weren’t partying with your crewmates.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” he asked. You looked at him with a dying smile, and sighed.

“You want to know why Zoro and I broke up?” you guessed. The surgeon nodded. You sighed and settled on your bed on your side, with your arm tucked under your pillow to reduce the weight resting on the attachment site. It was still a little uncomfortable, but it wasn’t bad.

“If I’m honest, I’m not completely sure if we officially broke up. I got hurt protecting him after I told him we should run…” memories of the day flicked through your mind, and you shook your head a little before continuing, “I’m sure you know the details of the injuries and can piece together what happened. But he was knocked out for a bit, and I tried to protect him even then. I finally could call for help and only passed out when I knew one of my crew was there taking care of the Marines. Apparently he threw up when he saw my body, thinking I was dead, but then carried me back to the ship with whoever came to save us. I dunno if he was there when I was still asleep and recovering or what. But I do remember that when I was awake for good finally, he had to leave the room. Some night later, either that same one or the one after, I don’t remember, he came into my room and… yelled at me, I guess screamed at me?” The memory of his harsh words floated back to mind, and you closed your eyes in shame before looking at Law and continuing,

“He asked me why I protected him, saying he didn’t need saving. He was gripping my knee, and honestly I was scared he was going to crush it. He yelled at me, asking if I thought he was so weak that he needed saving, and what the hell I meant when I said I wasn’t thinking. He punched a hole in the wall above my head, and when I screamed, Luffy and Sanji ran in. He kept going though, keeping his fist in the wall he called me a weak pathetic piece of shit, how I could lose my arms to a wall, and that he wished the bomb had hit him so he wouldn’t need to see the person he was dating like… this,” you swallowed and cleared your throat. It was relieving to be able to tell someone what happened, instead of someone already knowing. It was hard to get the words out through your remembered fear, but it was still a relief to talk about it. Your gaze had wandered a little while you recalled the incident, and you looked back at the surgeon. His eyes were shadowed under his hat, but his jaw was clenched and his hands were curled into fists on his knees. You sighed, but continued with your story,

“Luffy dragged him out of the room and they fought. It took Luffy, Sanji, and Robin to restrain him until Luffy could break through his anger. Zoro even tried to attack Nami. He stayed away from me for a few days until he came to apologize. I had Franky right outside the door and had him keep it cracked open so he could intervene. I was probably kind of an asshole, but I was kind of surprised when he said he wanted to apologize. I asked if he really wanted to, and he said that Luffy told him he had to. I sarcastically said ‘oh thanks’ and he got kinda pissed and said ‘I’m trying to apologize, isn’t that enough?’ and I lost my shit. I yelled at him, saying that I wanted him to apologize when he means it, not because he was ordered to. Franky hauled Zoro’s ass out of the room and I haven’t seen him since. I don’t honestly know how to be around him anymore, but I love the crew,” you finished. You almost expected to cry during the story, but at this point, you were numb towards it. It happened, and nothing was going to change how he broke your heart.

You glanced at Law, who hadn’t moved, before shifting to lay on your back to ease the discomfort of your arm. You let the silence hang like the stickiness of humidity. It was a few minutes before Law spoke.

“Join my crew.”

You looked at him in shock, sitting up and turning fully towards him.

“What?”

“Just for a few months, until you feel comfortable going back to your own crew. Unless you decide you want to stay here. We run into the Straw Pirates often enough, especially if we keep this alliance,” he explained. You looked at him in surprise, but looked to the side as you started thinking.

“Law…” you started. He interrupted you.

“Don’t decide now. Think about it for a while and talk to your crew. I… I know that you kind of have something going on with that curly-browed cook too, and he will treat you exactly how you deserve. Better than I ever could. So think about it. We can sail near the Straw Hats for a little while too. It’s up to you,” Law stood and walked to the door, shoes tapping loudly in your shocked silence. He tossed a small smile over his shoulder before speaking again.

“Get some rest, and we’ll have Chopper help give you a bath tomorrow, okay? We’ll see how you feel walking around after that,” Law said. You nodded, and he opened the door to leave.

“Law” you called. He stopped, looking back at you with a raised brow.

“Thank you, for the offer. I’m seriously thinking about it,” you said. This time he nodded.

“Good.” He stepped out of the room and closed the door quietly. You flopped down back on the bed, thinking about his words.

I know that you kind of have something going on with that curly-browed cook too, and he will treat you exactly how you deserve. Better than I ever could. So think about it.

What did he mean by ‘better than I ever could’? Did he also feel the connection between the two of you?

Thoughts swirled around your head. You’d desperately miss your crew, who was family, but you’d be healing and could go back to them. But if you stayed here, you could fall in love with Law, or at least have something with him. You also did, admittedly, have something with Sanji, who cared for you and you knew would treat you right. But if you did get with Sanji, that could cause even more tension with Zoro. But if you went back to the Straw Hats, then you’d have Chopper, Franky, and Usopp to help you get used to your arm and training you, but Luffy was also reckless and you could end up in a situation you weren’t ready for. Law was meticulous and an incredible surgeon, and his crew were well trained in terms of mechanics, so it would be fine to stay with them. But if you stayed with them, then you’d really miss your family, but if you went back to them, you’d have to deal with living with Zoro, but if you stayed with the Heart Pirates, then you wouldn’t know how to live with Zoro and would have to adjust while also adjusting to living with the rest of them again.

You heaved a sigh, the thoughts swirling and circling back to each other in your head. You settled down in your heap of blankets and pillows, letting your thoughts sway your mind into a fitful sleep.

Those who asked to be tagged: @@blue-rae18 @metonimia-de-bellota @perilous-pasta @thesleppybitch darkartincub0-blog @letssayless @brokenangstyheart @stachelrose @fluffybunnyu @yunho-leeknow @admoonchild @lakkiiii @khjcoo

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ckret2 · 5 months

Text

Chapter 31 of human Bill grudgingly enduring being the Pines' prisoner because the Henchmaniacs won't take his call: Summerween night! Everyone gets ridiculous costumes!

The Summerween Trickster's buddies are attempting to resurrect him. Robbie's making a music video. Bill's attempting to woo Ford back into friendship, to terrify Dipper with cursed knowledge, and to recover his dignity from THE most gentle chastising imaginable, and he only succeeds in 1 out of 3 of these endeavors:

It's not this one. He's just gotta process these emotions while wearing that stupid wig.

####

Soos was putting the final touches on his cosplay (the suave and mysterious Masked Guy In A Suit, love interest of the heroine from the classic anime Teenage Planetary Soldier Girls) when he heard the phone ring in the office. "Hold on, I'll get it!" He hurried downstairs, ducked under a construction paper chain Mabel had strung over the door, picked up the phone, and said, "Hello?"

A mysterious voice droned, "The sun sets a deep blood red."

"Oh, no thanks, we don't want any." Soos hung up, sighed happily, and said, "Ah, Summerween. Always brings out the weirdos."

"Hey Soos!" Mabel ducked into the doorway. "Where's the candy bowl?"

"Oh, hey Hambone. It's in my bedroom." He put on a stage whisper. "I put it in there so Bill couldn't steal it."

"Thanks Soos!" She ran upstairs.

Dipper and Bill waited downstairs, the tension thick between them (on Dipper's side, anyway; Bill—watching a black-and-white horror movie, sipping at a can of cider, and brooding over going to voicemail—didn't notice). Dipper was waiting by the door in a folding chair; but he kept glancing toward Bill in the living room. When the silence got too much to bear, he asked, "Okay, what are you dressed as?"

Bill was wearing a brown bedsheet toga (the most historically-accurate part of his costume); a cheap wig of a teased mullet that had ended up mostly red with yellow streaks, forming a plume of hair right over his head and then a long straight tail he'd draped over his shoulder; and a bunch of paper faux-Greek homes taped all around the hem of his toga, forming a ring around his calves.

"And are those my sandals?" Dipper asked.

"Take it up with Mabel, she loaned them on your behalf," Bill said. "I'm not telling my costume. You have to guess it."

"Seriously?" Dipper sighed. It had to be a god, gods towered over their mortals' temples. What god would wear brown? "I don't know—Demeter?"

"What? No. Do I seem like the Demeter type? Pathetic." Bill waved off his guess. As Mabel ran downstairs, Bill said, "Hey, Shooting Star, you haven't made your official guess yet."

Without hesitation, Mabel said, "A time-traveling hair metal singer touring the Roman Empire and trying to find a way home before his hair dye runs out."

"Wrong, but I would love to live in the world you've dreamed up." He meandered into the entryway to join Mabel as she plopped down in the second chair by the door.

Dipper screwed up his face. "Are you helping us answer the door?"

"No, you're helping me answer the door. I'm cursed, remember?" Bill leaned over Mabel's shoulder, dug into the candy bowl, and popped a lollipop in his mouth. "But you're not getting rid of me, if that's what you're asking."

Soos headed to the door, cape billowing dramatically behind him. "Hey dudes. Hey Bill." He paused in the door, studying Bill. "Hey! Is that a Bobo the Uncouth Berserker cosplay?"

Bill blinked. "Who?"

"Bobo the Uncouth Berserker! You've gotta read Bobo. He's this primitive hero descended from lost Lemuria who goes on daring adventures through the lush impenetrable jungles of Central Europe. He's got this comic that was so popular it spawned an anime, which got an American movie adaptation, which formed the basis of a second comic continuity that isn't as critically acclaimed as the original but has drawn in a lot of new fans... and..." Soos petered out. "You're not Bobo, are you."

Bill shook his head. "Thanks for playing."

"Aw." Soos's shoulders slumped. "Anyway—me and Melody are gonna be at the cosplay contest at the theater. I'll keep my phone on in case of monsters."

"We'll be fine!" Mabel said. "Go have fun!"

"You too!" With a dramatic flourish of his cape, Soos disappeared into the night.

Bill watched Soos go enviously. He could have been given a human body that looked that good in a suit and top hat, but was he? No. It wasn't fair. And Soos didn't even wear the right hat size.

Dipper glanced sideways at Bill. "Hey. Is... Lemuria real?"

"Not anymore." Bill perked up as Stan passed by, dressed like Frankenstein's monster. "Hey, Stanley! You haven't guessed yet. What am I?"

Stan surveyed him. "White columned buildings, Statue of Liberty dress, and a red clown wig. I dunno, the American government?"

Bill squawked in laughter. "That's my favorite wrong answer so far. I like you, Stanley." He fished a chocolate bar out of the bowl and held it out.

Stan grunted in disapproval, but accepted the candy. "If any of you need me, I'm gonna be up on the roof, terrifying kids." He held up a boombox and a cassette that said "Spooky Sound Effects of Halloween". "If you hear screaming children, don't worry: that means I'm winning."

"Where's your brother?" Bill asked.

"Avoiding you." Stan passed through the living room and left.

Bill's shoulders slumped; but he just dug into the candy bowl for more chocolate. Then the first trick-or-treater knocked on the door, and Dipper jumped up in relief to answer it.

The shack didn't attract quite as many trick-or-treaters as the houses closer to the center of town, but they got a steady stream of children, and more than they'd gotten the year before. Between visitors, Bill dug into their candy stock, gleefully ignoring Dipper's complaints. After the fourth or fifth visitor, Dipper and Mabel realized that Bill was covering up the amount of candy he'd pilfered by meticulously re-folding the empty wrappers and putting them back in the bowl.

"It's fair play," Bill said. He untwisted one end of a Twisty Roll tube, squeezed out the candy, blew into the wrapper to re-inflate it, and twisted the end shut again. "The kids are trick-or-treating, right? Sometimes they get treats and sometimes they get tricks."

"Come on, seriously?" Dipper said. "Even for you this is low. You're literally taking candy from babies."

"The babies are trying to take candy from us. I have no sympathy." With the precision of an origami master, Bill refolded a paper fruit chew wrapper into a box and dropped it back into the bowl.

"They're supposed to take candy from us, that's how the holiday works." Dipper looked at Mabel for support.

But she was holding up an empty 3 Fencers wrapper and squeezing it lightly between her fingers. "Wow. How did you make the wrapper puffy again? It's so convincing."

Bill shot Dipper a nasty smile, then turned to Mabel and said magnanimously, "I'll teach you everything I know." He twirled a glue stick between his fingers.

Another trick-or-treater knocked, and Dipper answered.

"Trick or treat! Please give us the worst candy you have."

Mabel blinked, leaning around Dipper to see who was outside. "Wait, what?"

Outside stood a purple-furred monster with a dozen limbs from a dozen different creatures. He gasped in surprise. "Ohhh, twin costumes! That's so cute! What are you two, haunted dolls?"

Dipper took a surprised step back. "Limby Jimmy?"

The monster was silent a moment, taken aback. He took off a bear mask he'd made out of a paper plate. "Is it that obvious?"

Mabel asked, "Have we...?"

Dipper said, "Oh! Sorry—Mabel, this is Limby Jimmy, I ran into him last year in the Crawlspace under town when I was trying to get your face back—"

Helpfully, Bill threw in, "He's Gravity Falls' most accomplished arms dealer. And legs dealer, and tails dealer, and ears dealer..."

"Limby, this is my sister Mabel. Actually, I don't know if I ever introduced myself—"

Limby Jimmy cut in, "Ohhh, yeah, I remember you! You're Troll Boy, right?"

Dipper winced. "It's—it's Dipper, actually." He paused. "Wow. We meet a lot of weird people."

"Nice to meet you, Jimmy!" Mabel held out a hand. After a moment of thought, Jimmy elected to shake it with a tentacle and a dog's paw.

"What are you doing up here?" Dipper asked. "Is Summerween the one night of the year that Gravity Falls' monsters can walk among humans without fear?"

"Oh no, I'm terrified. I wouldn't be out here if I wasn't collecting donations," Jimmy said.

"Donations?"

Jimmy hesitated, then lowered his voice. "You've been in the Crawlspace, so, you and your sister are cool, but is the lady...?" He wiggled a hoof toward Bill.

Coolly, Bill said, "I'm actually an ancient interdimensional energy being cursed to wear a human form."

Dipper and Mabel flinched in alarm and rounded on Bill, hissing, "Bill!" "Shhh!"

Ignoring them, Bill said, "So, continue."

"Oh," Jimmy said brightly. "That's all right then, yuk yuk." He wiggled his multitude of right arms. "I don't know if you humans have heard yet, but the Summerween Trickster got eaten to death last summer! It's really sad!"

Dipper and Mabel, who had watched as he was eaten to death, stayed quiet.

"But probably happy for him?" Jimmy mused. "Since I think that's what he wanted? But it's sad for the rest of his poker group, we all miss him! So I'm out here with Doug—"

"Who?" Dipper asked, looking around the porch for a second monster.

"Oh, he's back there." Jimmy pointed toward a tree at the edge of the clearing around the Mystery Shack. The tree chittered unnervingly. "We're going around collecting donations to resurrect the Trickster! Or... re-summon him? Or however this works. We never really asked him how he came to exist, it seemed rude."

"Naturally," Bill said. "You can't just ask a freak what made him so freaky. It's a sensitive topic."

"Right! You understand," Jimmy said. "Anyway, we need a lot of crappy candy!" He looked at their bowl. "Which pieces have the kids been ignoring this year?"

Mabel had started bouncing on the balls of her dusty Victorian ghost shoes; and the moment she had a turn to speak, she squealed in excitement. "You're the Summerween Trickster's friend! That's perfect! Stay here, I'll be right back!" She shoved the candy bowl into Bill's arms and zoomed up the stairs. "I've got some stuff for him!"

Bill looked at the bowl, looked at the stairs, shoved the candy in Dipper's arms, and followed Mabel. "Hey, Shooting Star? What are you doing?"

Her voice drifted down the stairs: "Getting a donation! I'll be just a minute!"

"Hold on, you're actually helping that guy?" Bill laughed. "Why?" He climbed high enough to poke his head above the attic floor and lowered his voice so Jimmy couldn't hear. "I wasn't paying that much attention last Summerween, but I got the impression from your little costume store brawl that the Trickster was trying to kill you kids. Am I missing something?"

"I mean, yeah, he was—but he was in a really bad place back then, that doesn't mean he deserves to be dead for it. And now he knows someone out there wants to eat him, so maybe he'll be less insecure and evil." Mabel laughed, "Anyway, the Trickster isn't that bad! He didn't try to kill me half as hard as you did!"

Bill froze a couple of steps from the top of the stairs. He didn't move for a few seconds; and then wordlessly, he slunk back downstairs.

Dipper watched as Bill, face beet red, trudged into the living room. "Hey. What's Mabel...?"

"How should I know." Bill curled up on the couch, picked up the can of cider he'd been drinking earlier, shotgunned it, and glowered at the horror movie on TV.

Dipper considered Bill—all alone in the living room and not doing anything important—and considered Mabel, upstairs; and said, "Hey, Jimmy. Do you mind waiting out here until Mabel gets back."

"Sure! I don't have any plans." Jimmy rocked back on his many heels.

"Cool. Thanks." Dipper shut the door.

He sidled oh so very casually into the living room and leaned against the TV. "Guess it's just the two of us right now."

Bill's gaze didn't waver from the TV. "Terrific counting skills, Troll Boy." He popped open another cider can.

Dipper grit his teeth. Let it go. "Sooo! You're from the second dimension, huh? What's that like?" (His voice cracked embarrassingly on "that.") "Just—just curious. Making friendly conversation. Caaasual conversation." He flashed a pair of finger guns at Bill, to underscore just how casual he was. "Yyyep." Witness the junior paranormal investigator in action.

Bill turned the cold, empty eyes of a killer on Dipper. He took a long, slow sip from his cider. And he asked himself: what can I say that will make this stupid boy regret ever daring to speak to me?

Bill smiled. "Yeah. Sure. Okay," he said. "You wanna know what it's like? Have you ever read the Allegory of the Cave?"

Dipper hesitated. "By... Plato?"

"That one. You know—ignorance is like being a prisoner chained in a cave, watching shadow puppets being cast on a wall, and thinking they're reality; and having knowledge is like being outside the cave in the sunlight, seeing the real shapes that are casting the shadows—"

"I have read it, actually," Dipper said, a tad defensively. "It was for extra credit in—"

"English class, I know."

Dipper frowned; but he soldiered on. "So... living in the second dimension is like being chained in a cave, staring at the shadows on the wall, and thinking that's reality? Bleak."

Bill laughed so loudly that Dipper started. "Wow, you're so dumb! Use your brain, kid: it's the second dimension. You're not the prisoner: you're the shadow on the wall." Bill's lip curled in a sneer, "An illusion in somebody else's allegory. And the only one who can see the cave's exit... is you. That's what the second dimension is like!" He laughed again. It sounded forced.

"Oh," Dipper mumbled. He tried to wrap his head around the idea of being a living metaphor for ignorance. "Sounds... pretty bad?"

"Awful," Bill agreed. "Doesn't hold a candle to what your dimension has going on, though."

"Wh... why, what's going on in the third dimension?"

Bill gave him a malicious smile, and Dipper had the sinking feeling he'd just walked into an obvious trap. "You idiot, you still think you're in the third dimension? Really?"

Was that a trick question? What answer was Bill looking for? What could this be if not the third dimension? "Nnooo?"

"Wow. I can really see why you're a straight-A's honors student," Bill said. "You're so good at figuring out what answer the test wants and regurgitating it—even if you don't actually understand it at all." He heaved himself back to his feet; and Dipper was sure there was something threatening in the movement—something that reminded Dipper that he was talking to a dangerously unstable extinction level event precariously packed into an unsteady human body. "Although copying the year of the Louisiana Purchase off of Brandon's test in fifth grade probably didn't hurt, did it."

Dipper's stomach dropped. The secret shame buried beneath the foundation of his honors roll-worthy record. Pull that out and his entire academic career came toppling down. He'd get kicked out of the honors classes. He'd go to jail. Was cheating against the law? "H... how did—?"

"What year was the Louisiana Purchase?"

Dipper's brain immediately went blank. He was silent, trapped in the paralyzing intensity of Bill's gaze. After several terrifying seconds, he croaked, "1803?" and hoped he was right.

"Attaboy. Too bad you couldn't have learned that a little sooner, isn't it?" As he spoke, Bill had closed in on Dipper until he'd backed him into the corner behind the TV set, filling Dipper's exit route with one hand on the TV and the other on the wall. "But we were talking about dimensions, weren't we! Whaddaya like to read, kid," Bill asked too casually, "do you like cosmic horror? Do you know what real 'cosmic horror' is?"

Dipper regretted this conversation completely.

"It's having an eyeball on the inside of your body, and seeing another dimension through it. And ohoho, I think you'd be amazed at the things I can see from here—"

Dipper got the distinct impression that if he didn't get out of this conversation, he would only hear things he'd be telling his therapist about for months. "Cool! Good talk, man. Hey Mabel?" (That was an absolutely humiliating voice crack.) "How's it going?"

A pause. "I think I need help!"

"Coming!" Dipper ran behind the TV to escape Bill and gratefully bolted upstairs.

The kid had caved so fast. And Bill had only just been getting started. He smirked, sat, and turned back to the movie.

A moment later, Mabel and Dipper came back downstairs, carrying four bulging plastic grocery bags. Mabel set one by her feet, opened the door, and shoved the first bag into Jimmy's arms. "Here! You can give these to the Trickster!" She shoved over the second bag.

Jimmy stumbled back under the weight. "Whoa there! What is this?"

"Candy chalk-hearts! I completely bought out the leftovers after Valentine's Day," Mabel said. "I wanted to make sure that if we met the Trickster again, I could let him know he's loved and appreciated as the terrifying avatar of spooky holiday spirit that he is! And that I also respect that he's made out of gross candy nobody likes to eat." She picked up a chalk-heart box and waved it in Jimmy's face. "So here's a gross candy that expresses love! See, the little hearts say things like 'You smell nice' and 'I heart ur face,' but they taste like if dehydration was a flavor."

Dipper handed his bags to Jimmy. "Wait—Mabel, that's why you got all these? You've been planning to help the Trickster since February? I thought you were gonna build a chalk-heart house or something."

"Oooh, that's such a good idea. I should do that next year!" To Jimmy, she said, "I was gonna give these to him personally, but if he's still dead, I guess you can add it to his candy sacrifice pile or whatever? And make sure he gets this!" She handed Jimmy a store bought Shimmery Twinkleheart Valentine's card. It read, "I BELIEVE in our friendship! Happy Valentine's Day!" Mabel had scratched out "Valentine's" and written "Summerween".

Choked up, Jimmy said, "Oh—wow. That's the nicest thing anyone's done for us all night. I'm sure the Trickster will really appreciate it when he's not dead anymore."

Dipper was a little more vengeful. Dipper didn't want to do anything for one of the many guys that had tried to kill them last year. But, on the other hand, Mabel had just gone all in on this, and Jimmy seemed nice enough, so... Dipper sighed. Whatever, it was Summerween and this was a trick-or-treater. "Hey," he picked up the candy bowl. "There's really only one bag of good candy in here. The bottom of the bowl is filled with after-dinner mints our great uncle's been stealing from restaurants for the last six months. The Trickster would probably love that, right?"

"Aww—thanks so much, you guys! We'll have the poker group back together in no time!" Jimmy dug past the good candy and started scooping mints into his bag. "Oh—since I'm here, can I ask about our other poker buddy? Do either of you know Mr. What's-His-Face? He disappeared around the time you were visiting the Crawlspace, maybe one of you saw something? Any information would be helpful." Jimmy looked at them with weird, plus-shaped, but very hopeful eyes. "Between the Trickster's death and Whatsis disappearing, the local paranormal community's been hit hard. Especially us guys in their friend group. I'm—I'm not gonna lie," Jimmy heaved a sigh, "It's been a really hard year."

Dipper and Mabel, who were directly and personally at fault for Mr. What's-His-Face's disappearance and knew he was frozen in stasis in Ford's bunker at that very moment, exchanged a look and came to a silent agreement.

"Nope, don't know anything," Mabel said.

"Sorry, buddy," Dipper said.

Like the Summerween Trickster, Mr. What's-His-Face was a weird faceless shapeshifty monster that had tried to kill them. But they felt like that was where the similarities ended.

By the time of the Trickster's death, Mabel and Dipper had realized that his deepest inner longing was to be called good enough to eat. Mr. What's-His-Face's deepest inner longing was to steal innocent people's faces. If Mabel and Dipper helped resurrect the Trickster, he'd probably go back to ensuring everyone displayed sufficient holiday spirit, while hopefully mellowing out about eating people now that he'd been consumed once. On the other hand, if Mabel and Dipper helped free Mr. What's-His-Face, he'd probably just keep stealing faces.

And on top of all that, they could help resurrect the Trickster without admitting they knew the guy who ate him. They couldn't really lead Jimmy to Mr. What's-His-Face without admitting their great uncle was keeping him captive. And that would be a problem for the whole family.

"Oh," Jimmy said. "Okay, that's fine. Thanks for all your help. You know where to reach us if you hear anything."

Mabel shook her head. Dipper nodded. "Yeah, we'll let you know."

Jimmy hopped off the porch, shouted, "Hey Doug, can you help me carry these?" and chucked a couple of bags of chalk-hearts toward the tree line. Dipper and Mabel stared. Nothing emerged to pick the bags up.

They shut the door.

"Man," Dipper said. "We kinda devastated the paranormal poker group last summer, didn't we?"

"Yeah." Mabel sucked in a breath between her teeth. "Wow. Feels... kinda bad."

Dipper offered her the candy bowl. "Drown our feelings in chocolate?"

"Please."

They grabbed a piece of candy each, tore open the wrappers—and frowned. Mabel stomped a foot. "Dang it—Bill!"

"Hm?"

"How many of these wrappers are empty?!"

Bill poked his head out of the living room and said, smugly, "Like candy from a baby!"

####

A knock, and Dipper opened the door. "Wendy! Hey! Good timing—"

"Hey." Wendy lowered her voice. "Quick question—this is super important—is Goldie here?"

"Uh—yeah, why—?"

"Yello?" Bill carefully wove his way out of the living room, already less steady on his feet than when he'd sat down. "I heard my name, who's summoning me?"

Wendy pointed over the twins at Bill and turned to shout into the dark, "Ladies and gentlemen! I present to you! Live and in person... Toga Lady!"

A half dozen teenagers immediately went bananas. Hooting and hollering and cheering and whistling: "To-ga! To-ga! To-ga!"

Bill's entire face lit up. Without missing a beat, he pushed past the baffled twins out onto the porch and spread his arms wide, basking in the cheering. "That's right, keep it coming! Worship me! I'm the greatest!"

"Yes!" Robbie pumped a fist in the air. "The legends were true!" Nate immediately added, "The prophecy! The prophecy!" Tambry snapped photos of Toga Lady's fresh look as fast as her phone could save them, muttering, "Everyone's gonna flip when they find out you're still in town."

Wendy waited, grinning, until her friends' faux hysterics had died down. "Okay—okay, after getting you hyped up, I should probably say that Toga Lady is actually Toga Guy." She glanced questioningly at Bill. "I think?"

"Eh, I'm not picky."

"Anyway this is Goldie, he was stuck in another dimension for thirty years, it's crazy, and now he's like my illegal backup cashier. He actually... doesn't usually wear togas?"

Bill laughed. "If you can't wear a bedsheet on Summerween, when can you?"

Lee said, "Thompson wore a bedsheet to homecoming."

"Hey."

Bill pointed at Thompson. "A man of impeccable fashion! I like it!" Thompson gave him a look of eternal gratitude.

"And Goldie, this is the gang! That's Thompson, he's the guy with the van; Robbie and Tambry, they're like, gender-swapped versions of each other, they even share their hair dye..."

As Wendy did introductions, Mabel whispered to Dipper, "Did you know she was gonna introduce Goldie to everyone?"

"No! This is bad, I told her not to trust him..."

Bill was responding to a question, "No, no, you've gotta guess, I'm making everyone guess!"

The teens considered the question. Robbie offered first, "Punk caveman?"

"Nope!"

Hesitantly, Thompson tried, "Nero fiddling over the burning of Rome?" He winced when Lee laughed.

"I like where your head's at, but no! I can't fiddle."

"The gremlin king from Huge Maze?" Tambry said.

Mabel piped up, "No, but the wig came from a gremlin king costume and I appreciate you for recognizing that!" Tambry nodded in cool approval.

Bill dispensed of Lee, Nate, and Wendy's guesses—Greek Christmas tree, that one guy who keeps painting burning banks, and hair metal Hades—before Robbie loudly cleared his throat to cut in. "Anyway, would love to stay and chat, but we've gotta move if we wanna be in position before sunset. Dipper, Mabel, you ready?"

"Ready to ghost it up!" Mabel said, squeezing around Bill with Dipper onto the porch.

Robbie surveyed their makeup—deathly white skin, ashen grey lips, and dark circles around their eye sockets. "Yeah, that's pretty good. Could use a little color, maybe. Like bloody tears?" He turned toward Tambry.

She said, "I think I've got some red eyeliner."

"'In position'?" Bill asked, giving Dipper and Mabel a questioning look.

Wendy said, "We're helping Robbie film this music video tonight."

"We're the creepy ghost twins!" Mabel announced proudly. "We get to sing the chorus."

Robbie said, "Yeah, the song's about childhood and growing up, but like, with ghosts? Because once you've grown up, your childhood is all dead? It's metal, but introspective. I'm calling the genre 'intrometal.'" He flipped his bangs dramatically. "It's a super deep song. Metaphorical layers."

"Oh yeah?" Bill stared Robbie down. "Sing some of it."

Robbie blinked. "Oh. Yeah, okay uh, I haven't warmed up my voice but, the hook is like—" He pantomimed playing a guitar and whisper-screamed, "'BABY DOLLS! BASKET BALLS! BASKET CASE! HUMAN RACE!' Like that."

Bill nodded slowly, face expressionless. "Ah, yeah, I see. Really deep stuff. Makes you think."

"Thanks." Robbie looked at Dipper and Mabel. "Anyway, if we're gonna get any footage in the graveyard before the jack-o'-melons start burning out, we've gotta move. Let's go, Creepy Ghost Twins."

"Wait, you're going out?" Bill asked Mabel. "Like out-out? Leaving me here? By myself? On Summerween?"

"Wh—yeah, we're only handing out candy for half the night," Mabel said. "I told you that."

"No you didn't!"

"Yes I did!"

"When?"

Mabel thought. "No I didn't," she admitted. "Sorry!"

Wendy punched Bill's arm. "Sorry to steal them. We'll be back in a couple of hours," she said. "Or you could come help—?"

"No!" Dipper and Mabel both shoved Bill back into the house before he could accept. Dipper said, "You've gotta—guard the house." Mabel added, "And hand out candy!"

"Right," Bill said flatly. "Yes. That. Ha."

"See you later!" Mabel said, and then shut the door in his face.

The last thing he heard was Wendy explaining to her friends, "He's on house arrest for, like, academic plagiarism and war crimes or something..." and then they were gone.

Bill's shoulders slumped. Well, now what? He couldn't celebrate a holiday by himself. What was the point of wearing a costume if no one sees you in it. He picked up a piece of candy, discovered it was one of his decoys, and picked up another.

Someone knocked on the door.

"Yeah, yeah," Bill sighed. He picked up the candy bowl, turned toward the door, and paused. Ah. Right. What was he supposed to do with this impenetrable portal-blocking slab of wood.

Who was left in the house? Stan on the roof, Ford in the basement, Abuelita probably already in bed... were any of them worth harassing to help him answer the door? Maybe Stan, he'd gotten all dressed up, he liked the holiday even if he didn't like Bill—

The trick-or-treater knocked more insistently.

Or. Or.

He could pick up the bowl, peer out the small window in the door, and make direct eye contact with the children outside while he ate candy.

As a piece of mid-tier chocolate melted on his tongue, he saw three trick-or-treaters' faces fall as their faith in a kind, caring universe died. He grinned at them and ate another chocolate.

Oh yeah. He grabbed the rest of his cider from the living room and set up post next to the door. This would keep him entertained the rest of the night.

####

He made seven small children cry.

####

Stan watched from his post on the roof as yet another sobbing kid ran away from the shack. "HA! Gottem! Sucker!" He affectionately patted his boombox. "Creepy ghoulish laughter, you never disappoint! Terrifying moochers since 1989!" He paused the cassette and rewound it a few seconds to replay the best part.

He heard a scraping sound above him, and looked up just in time to see Ford sliding down the roof to join him. "Oh, hey! I didn't think we'd see you again tonight."

"Mabel made me promise to celebrate Summerween a little."

"Good for her!"

Stan had already claimed the sun lounger, so Ford brushed some dust and leaves off the roof's cooler and sat. "So, what are we doing? Scaring trick-or-treaters?"

"Yep. This year I'm taking a more atmospheric approach." He gestured at his boombox, which by now was playing haunting organ music. "Nothing like screaming zombies and rattling chains from nowhere to freak out the kids."

Ford nodded. "Psychological torment. I approve."

"Not quite as good as getting to see the terror in their eyes, but." Stan shrugged. "Bill was hanging out with the kids. I didn't want to put up with him."

"Mm. There's a reason I was spending the holiday in the basement."

"Heh. Well, there's always Halloween."

They were silent for a moment, listening as the cassette moved on from organ music to werewolf howls. Stan asked, "Think we'll be rid of him by then? I know we were hoping to be done with him before the Fourth of July—but since I haven't heard anything lately, I figure you hit a roadblock."

Ford winced. "Guilty as charged." He was still relearning how to keep other people in the loop. Even Stan. "You're right. I have a weapon that can destroy him, but I can't find a fuel source without restarting the portal. I'm hoping Fiddleford will come up with a solution I haven't."

Stan nodded. Ford had told him he was getting Fiddleford involved; even as reluctant as Ford was to admit how little progress he'd made, he wasn't going to tell someone outside the family about Bill without letting Stan know. "Any breakthroughs on his end?"

####

During the credits between episodes of the retired samurai period drama (most recently, the samurai had been asked to use his sword to help cut flowers for a bouquet), Fiddleford leaned over and whispered to Ford, "So I've been a-lookin' at those blueprints you left me."

"And...?"

"And I've constructicated a power adaptor. Just jimmy out the fuel tank, swap it for the adaptor's cord, and you can power that weapon by pluggin' it into the wall! It'll just drain all the power from the town for a few seconds, that's all."

"Fiddleford, that's amazing—"

"Now, hold on. There's bad news," Fiddleford said. "Try as I might, I can't quite get it to draw enough power to activate those energy-destroying features what you'd need to disintegrate Bill. It'll work like a powerful laser, but nothin' else."

Ford sighed. "It's a starting point, I suppose."

"I'll send you home with the adaptor anyway. Never know when you'll need a big laser."

"Very true. Do you have any promising leads on other alternative fuels?"

Fiddleford shook his head. "It's the NowUSeeitNowUDontium or nothing. But I've got a hunch we could synthesize it under lab conditions. I'll letcha know in a few days."

And then the next episode started, and they dropped the conversation.

####

Ford let out a heavy sigh. "He's only had a partial success so far. But I'm hopeful he's on the right track."

"So, if he's working on this weapon, what are you doing?"

"Waiting, mostly. I don't know what else I can do."

Stan frowned. "What—that's it? You've been downstairs all day every day—if you're not figuring out how to destroy him, what are you doing?"

"Passing time somewhere I can be on call if he gets up to something—but I don't have to look at him," Ford said wryly. "And—as long as I'm waiting to hear back from Fiddleford, I've been... picking apart that list of spells Bill gave me. To see if any of them are tricks or traps."

Stan couldn't say he was surprised. That was his workaholic brother. A pamphlet of demon magic was like catnip to him. If anything, Stan was almost glad Ford had that letter to distract him. Over the past year...

Well, Ford was fine on land—when he temporarily had a mystery to solve, an adventure to pursue, an anomaly to study, a distraction to fill his time—but at sea, when his mind was unoccupied, he was listless. He had books he didn't read, field notes he didn't enter into his journal, games he didn't play. He fed himself and exercised and did chores around the ship like a robot programmed to take care of itself, and he stared out at the sea.

Last summer, Ford hadn't seemed happy but he'd seemed alive. Tired and angry, but alive. But after Weirdmageddon, a light in his eyes went out. Stan didn't know if it was the end of summer, or guilt over the memory gun, or the gap between finishing a thirty-year-long quest and discovering the next one. All Stan knew was the light hadn't come back on until the moment Bill Cipher, clad in a new body and a purple cartoon bedsheet, tried to cave Ford's skull in.

Ever since they were children, Ford had had a tendency to develop obsessions. It was somehow simultaneously both what made him most interesting and what made him boring. Depended on the obsession. But these all-consuming interests had always tended to last a few months, at most a year; and he'd never seemed to be without one, much less for nine months. Stan had no idea what carrying a single obsession for three decades might have done to Ford's mind.

Stan was glad something had woken Ford back up, and he worried that losing that focal point again might leave Ford permanently adrift. But another part of him worried that, this time, Ford wouldn't let the object of his obsession go. He tended to collect things related to his obsessions.

But then, he usually tended to like his obsessions. He hadn't seemed bothered to burn the contents of his creepy Bill shrine last summer. Ford wouldn't do anything stupid, Stan told himself. Ford hated Bill. "So? Were any of the spells traps?"

"Not... so far, no." Ford sounded irritated by this.

Stan shrugged. "Makes sense. He's trying to butter us up. If that idiot thinks being nice to us for a week or two is gonna make up for the years of grief he's given us—"

A loud rattle-clattering below made them both start. Stan sat bolt upright. "What the—?"

Ford inched to the edge of the dormer roof, knelt down, and leaned over the edge just far enough to see the window.

Bill's face was pressed to the glass, eye rolled up toward the roofline. He grinned in surprised delight and shouted through the glass, "HEY, STANFORD! What are you doing up here?! I thought you were downstairs!"

"Ugh." Ford turned to grimace at Stan. "Speak of the devil."

Bill pounded on the glass again. "Hey, Sixer! SIXER! Open the window!"

"Why?"

"I wanna talk!"

"No."

"Come ooon, the kids ditched me and I'm bored! There's no one in the house to talk to! The old lady's asleep and Stanley's on the roof, so—" He abruptly fell silent, squinting with deep suspicion at Ford-who-should-be-in-the-basement kneeling on the-roof-where-Stan-should-be, and said, "Wait. Are you Stanley right now? Show me your hand."

Ford did not. "Go away, Bill." He left the edge of the roof for his cooler seat.

"Get back here!" The pounding redoubled. "I don't care which Stan you are! If you don't wanna talk, I can always go wake up Dolores!"

Ford looked at Stan. "Mrs. Ramirez's name is Dolores?" He had gotten used to everyone calling her Abuelita.

Stan stomped on the roof, "Shaddup!"

Bill did not shaddup. "Come ooon!"

Stan sighed in defeat and heaved himself to his feet. "If he keeps that racket up he's gonna break that window, never mind that hex you put on him." When they'd taken out the original Bill-shaped window, Stan had replaced it with the cheapest window he could find. He didn't think it was very durable. "How much trouble can he get in with one open window twenty feet above the ground and both of us watching him?"

Ford Frowned.

"Don't gimme that look. Do you want to pay for a broken window?" Stan flipped through his keys for his key-shaped emergency lock pick, leaned over the edge of the roof, and wedged the pick into the window frame. The latch popped open. Lucky this window was so cheap, that wouldn't have worked on one with deluxe features like "airtight weatherstripping" or "a properly-fitting frame." Stan swung open the window. "Okay, you have our attention. Now what's the fastest way we can get rid of you?"

Bill clumsily climbed out to sit on the windowsill with his legs in the shack, and leaned back so he could see up onto the roof. "Hiya Fo—" He lost his balance, flailed, and yelped as he toppled backwards.

Stan and Ford lunged forward to seize an arm each. Stan snapped, "What are you doing, you maniac?!"

Bill stared up at them both in wide-eyed amazement. "You do like me."

Stan made a noise of disgust, let go, and wiped his hands on his pants like Bill had cooties.

Ford said, "We like you trapped in that body and not free to cause the apocalypse."

"I heard 'we like you'!"

"Shut up." Ford managed to haul Bill back upright. (Touching Bill felt wrong—all soft flesh and skin and the suggestion of bones underneath. Even when looking right at Bill's human body, Ford still expected him to feel like heavy shadows and heatless flames.) From this close, Bill reeked of cider. "Just how much have you had to drink?"

"Not so much I won't remember whatever you say in the morning, so be nice to me!" Bill laughed. He leaned back, this time hanging by one hand off the window frame to precariously maintain his balance, and grinned up at Ford. "So! The least fun person in the house has finally emerged from his lair? And you didn't even come into the house to join in the Summerween festivities! 'All work and no play'..."

Ford had to crouch at the edge of the roof, hovering nearby in case Bill lost his balance again. "I wanted to participate in Summerween, actually. It just so happens that the last person I'd ever spend a holiday with is in the house."

"Listen, Stanford. I know you're holing up in your study for days on end just to hurt me. But let's be honest, you're hurting yourself more! When's the last time you saw the sunlight! Look at how pale you're getting, you look like a vampire."

Stiffly, Ford said, "It's costume makeup. That's my vampire costume." Stan laughed.

"It what." Bill flipped up his eyepatch and squinted blearily at Ford's face.

Wordlessly, Ford bared his teeth to show off his plastic vampire teeth.

"Oh." Somewhat deflated, Bill said, "Nice work, it's convincing."

"Thanks," Ford said grudgingly. Giving in to his curiosity, he gestured toward Bill's (somewhat disheveled) reddish-yellow wig. "What are you."

"Oh!" Bill perked back up. "You've got to see the whole thing. Hold on—" He turned around in the window, ignoring how Ford half reached for him in case he needed steadying, until he got his legs outside to dangle on the roof. "What do you think!"

Ford looked over the brown toga flared out like a cone, the eruption of red hair, the small paper city below, and said, "Mount Vesuvius and Pompeii? Very clever."

Bill's face lit up. "Finally! You're the first person all day to get it!" He smoothed out the skirt proudly, his jerky gestures just a bit more exaggerated than usual. "Do you know how long I've wanted to go to a costume party as Vesuvius? But nobody off Earth would get it! And now that I'm finally here, I can't go to parties and I'm shaped more like a mandrake than a volcano." He flung up his hands, wobbled, and caught himself before Ford had to intervene. "But at least you got it. I knew I could count on you, IQ."

He sounded so sincerely grateful. Ford regretted calling the costume clever. It was, but Bill didn't need the ego boost.

"Oh! By the by—I didn't think you'd emerge before the day was over, so I saved this." Bill fished around in his toga until he retrieved a mini pack of jelly beans. "Here!"

Ford eyed the pack. "Why is it open?"

"Because you only like the weird-shaped jelly beans, so I ate all the normal beans and saved the weird ones in one bag."

"I don't want this. You touched every one of the beans, that would be disgusting even if they weren't coming from you," Ford said. "Anyway, this is a patently transparent attempt to buy your way into my good favor—"

"It sure is, Ford, and if you don't accept it I'll get to be annoying about your ingratitude for weeks! Is that what you want? You know I'll do it. Everyone will be on my side—"

Ford sighed, but snatched the bag from Bill's hand. "Fine. Now drop it."

"That's more like it!" Bill favored Ford with an approving smile. "Anyway, it's just about the only candy left in the house, I ate everything else—hey, have you ever been cross faded on cider and a sugar rush?"

Ford was still trying to decide whether he wanted to engage in this one-sided conversation enough to ask Bill what "cross faded" meant when Bill moved on without him: "It's—not that interesting, actually. 6 out of 10. Anyway, all that's left in the bowl is mints and wrappers. And Mabel even managed to give most of the mints away—hey, she's so nice, did you know she's helping to resurrect the Summerween Trickster?"

She was doing what? "No. Why?"

"She's so nice."

"You just said that."

"What is she so nice for. What's she getting out of it," Bill asked, more to the universe at large than to Ford. "If more humans were half as nice to freaks as she is, your rotten planet wouldn't need people like you and me to save it."

Ford didn't even know where to begin with that. He looked to Stan for help.

Stan was sitting straddling his lounger, elbow on one knee and chin in his hand, watching this exchange like he was watching a weird bug on the wall try to navigate around a picture frame. At Ford's glance, he rolled his eyes and pantomimed sipping from a drink.

He could say that again. Ford cleared his throat. "Bill, maybe you should..."

"Hey," Bill said. "Great talk, we really should catch up more sometime. And pull your weight next time, I always have to do all the talking. But right now, I'm..." He gestured vaguely off to the side. "I'm gonna lie down and try not to throw up. Ciao!" He swayed as he tried to get back in the window, tumbled backward into the shack, and thudded heavily on the floor. "Ow."

Ford gingerly shut the window.

Stan turned up the boombox. "Chatty drunk, isn't he."

"He's chatty sober, too." But in front of the kids? Neither of them saw Bill as a role model, but they still didn't need to be exposed to that kind of behavior. Especially when the responsible adults were outside or asleep... "Did we really leave Bill alone in the house with the kids?"

"W—I—" Stan shrugged defensively. "They were all right! They can take him! They're doing karate or whatever! You didn't see how Mabel flipped him at the mall! It was like David wrestling Goliath."

"David and Goliath didn't wrestle."

"You know what I mean."

Ford supposed he didn't think Bill was any threat to the children. At least, not right now, and not physically. He felt like he'd know if Bill was about to try anything.

He looked at his open bag of gross felt-up jelly beans. Speaking of trying to butter them up... Ford wound up and chucked the bag as hard as he could.

He stared into the dark after it.

A small part of him was beginning to wonder whether this wasn't all just an attempt to get Ford's guard down. The gifts, sure, that was as clear-cut a case of bribery as you could get. Nothing ambiguous there.

But the endless chatter... Back when Ford had called Bill his Muse, this was exactly how he'd wanted Bill to talk to him. Not in the flighty half-distracted way of a friendly businessman catching up on a work project's progress before hurrying on to the next meeting; but just talking for talking's sake, talking for the company.

Getting what he once had longed for made his skin crawl. And he couldn't even tell if Bill was acting.

The boombox let out a ghastly banshee shriek. Ford and Stan both jumped, then laughed awkwardly.

Ford sat on the cooler again. "Is it just me, or... did Bill completely ignore you as soon as he realized I was up here."

"Well. I wasn't gonna mention it. I didn't wanna sound jealous of the attention. But yeah—he's been doing that since he got here. If you're in the room, he tunes everyone else out."

"I thought it was in my head." And he hadn't wanted to sound like he wanted to imagine Bill was favoring him.

"And you do the same thing around him," Stan said, and laughed at Ford's flinch of alarm. "It's—it's fine, I get it. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, right? You've got some kind of superhero-supervillain nemesis thing."

Ford got the distinct impression that Stan was offering him a convenient excuse for the tunnel vision. He took it. "I suppose that's true." The way his jaw clenched and his shoulders tensed around Bill certainly felt like a "nemesis" reaction.

But if Stan thought Ford was a bit too preoccupied by Bill... well, maybe he was right. Once Ford had gotten over his initial wave of fear, of despair, of outrage at the injustice, at finding Bill was still alive—there was a part of him that was almost relieved. A part of him that had been on guard against nothing for the past year, twisting around looking for an absent threat. Now that it knew where the threat was, that part of him could finally settle down and watch Bill with steady, certain eyes. Having nothing to worry about made him more anxious than having one thing to always worry about.

(Maybe Shermie's kid had been on to something when he suggested Ford might benefit from therapy.)

Knowing Bill was back didn't put the old starlight and awe back in that hole Bill had left in Ford's chest. But dread could fill a hole all the same.

Ford tried to push Bill out of his mind and the conversation. "You think I'm like a superhero?"

"You run around fighting monsters with a space laser. What else would you be?"

"Huh." Well. That made his night.

"Just as long as you don't pull that 'hero spares the villain to show how good he is' shtick."

"Never." Ford laughed ruefully. "I think I left 'good' behind a few felonies back." He'd probably left "good" behind the night he accepted the portal blueprints.

"Couple stragglers," Stan said, nodding out into the dark. It took Ford a moment to spot the costumed kids and remember it was Summerween. "I recognize those costumes, I scared them off an hour ago. What are they doing back?"

Ford squinted at them. "Are those toilet paper rolls?"

"Wh—Hey! What are you little runts— Hey!" Stan leaped to his feet, shaking his fist at the kids below. "Get away from my car! Stop that! I'll have you know that's a classic— No, not the eggs!"

Ford slid out his freeze ray, turned down the power, and offered it to Stan. "Here. At this power and distance, it'll feel like getting pelted with invisible snowballs."

Stan snatched up the weapon. "Eat this, twerps!"

The Summerween night air was filled with the screams of terrified children and the evil laughter of an old man.

####

Wow. It sure sounded like everybody was having fun. Outside. Without him.

Bill was nauseous.

He stared at the spinning ceiling, flat on his back, one leg on a cushion and the rest of him on the floor.

Bill was nauseous and alone. The loneliness tore at his throat. Even Mabel had ditched him. Of course she did—he'd tried to kill her. He'd barely even remembered he'd tried to kill her until she brought it up. Had he tried to kill her? No, surely not—he liked the kid, he'd always liked her—he'd been faking to force Ford's hand, he never would have gone through with it. He would've teleported her into another room and pretended he'd disintegrated her. She didn't know he hadn't meant it. She was just mad he'd scared her. She couldn't take a joke.

But, Ford talked to him. Ford even liked his costume. It wasn't much, but it would get Bill through the night.

When he saw Kryptos again—when, not if—he was slicing him into a jigsaw puzzle for not taking Bill's call. The nerve of that guy, hanging up on a human without even waiting a few words to see if they had anything interesting to say.

(What if it hadn't been an accident, he wondered? What if Kryptos had realized it was Bill and still hung up?)

(No. Of course it was an accident.)

He shut his eyes. He was probably too drunk to dream tonight. Well, he could try again tomorrow. His little lucid dreaming guide was currently teaching him to influence the next night's dream by focusing on a topic before sleep. Maybe tomorrow he could dream about the Nightmare Realm.

He missed home.

####

(Congratulations to the approximately 50% of respondents who correctly figured out Bill's costume when I posted the art on Halloween, you're officially smarter than everybody in Gravity Falls except Ford. This is one of those chapters with a whole lot going on so if you enjoyed, I'd love to hear your comments!!)

#(tbh that's the best Mabel & Dipper I've ever drawn)#bill cipher #human bill cipher #mabel pines #dipper pines #(for both the art & fic)#grunkle ford #grunkle stan #(for just the fic)#gravity falls #gravity falls fanart #gravity falls fic #my writing #my art #fanart #bill goldilocks cipher

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hotdogdynamitezzz · 1 year

Text

Your Fashion and Style Guide

Pt.1

Part 2 (Libra - Pisces) Here

Use your Rising & Venus sign!

Aries:

Prioritizes comfort but doesn't compromise for their fashion style

Absolutely rocks streetwear & athleisure

Prefers sporty fits the most!

Looks best in red & black clothing

Their style always has some sort of edge to it

Big on grunge and vintage rockband t shirts

They love combat boots and they generally prefer flame or camo print clothes

This sounds odd but they kinda remind me of a racecar aesthetic?

Very Sharp with their fashion choices

They look great in leather jackets

A bold colour paired with a neutral for a high contrast look suit them best

They love the rockstar or baddie aesthetic

Looks ~

Taurus:

They have three modes, classy bitches, edgy e-girls & bohemian botanical.

But generally, I see classy and soft the most

Green, Brown, Beige, White, Black, Pink & Red for sensuality.

They love wearing neutrals but they often mix it up with some colour now and again

They usually have some sort of special necklace

A fan of pearls because it's classic

But diamonds are their best friends too ofc

Fuzzy & Fluffy cardigans or sweaters have their heart, especially the white and brown colours

They are into floral and flannel patterns

Their favorite colour options are brown & pink or white & pink 🕊💕

They usually dress more modest but make it look high fashion

They usually like to incorporate silk or a corset into their outfit, being ruled by venus makes them into a sensual and seductive look

Generally they favour comfortable fabrics and silk

Looks ~

Gemini:

I noticed they don't really like dark colours and generally prefer brighter neutrals or colours

They like off-the-shoulder, cold shoulder, cutout tops & cool designs on their shirts whether its long sleeve or not

They choose tops based on the arm style such as balloon sleeves or cutouts

Asymmetrical styles suit them best

Colors are white, bright pinks, and green.

Earrings & Bracelets are their favorite accessories

They like a fairy aesthetic, something that feels whimsical

Likes to switch between feminine and masculine clothing frequently

Very experimental with their clothes

Looks ~

Cancer:

Either soft and girly or moody and dark!

They prefer to keep it modest unless showing off their chest

Their choice of jewelry are pearl necklaces

The shoes they tend to favour are chunky block heels & sandals

Prefers blue, pink & white or black

Soft and flowy clothes like cardigans or kimonos

Knee high socks + sweater dresses look great

They love sweetheart necklines

Into crop tops! Usually silk crops

They like to pair tight clothes with a flowy jacket! Especially if it has a pop of colour

Overall style changes depending on how they're feeling that day

Looks ~

Leo:

Everytime I looked up a Leo rising celebrity that were ALWAYS wearing sunglasses

A fan of sunhats too!

Anything bright & metallic suit them perfectly

They look lavish in silky and shiny materials

They tend to wear fur coats

They like long and sturdy coats in general!

Usually they own big statement jewelry

Everything looks shiny tbh especially their hair.

Sparkly clothes & sequins are their weakness

They could rock sundresses

They look great in animal print, specifically cheetah or leopard.

Bold fashion is their go-to

Even if they wear neutral colours they make sure the texture stands out

Jumpsuits were really popular among them! I think they like to look playful but glamorous at the same time

They will not leave the house unless they look ready for a fashion show lol

Their motive is to standout and turn heads.

Looks ~

Virgo:

Less is more for them

They like simple t-shirts with cute mottos like "be kind" or some shit that HAS to be written in small font or they won't wear it LOL

A Preppy Style & Sweater Vests are their thing

So is gingham print

They rock high-fashion looks

Fake glasses are a cute trend they look good in

A big fan of trench coats and cardigans

They prefer a business casual look

They prefer earthy tones & greens.

They are all about the simplicity in versatility! For instance they usually like black jeans and a white top but the top can be a tube top or a halter top based on what they want that day

They LOVE BLAZERS

Very picky about fashion, I find super bright colors often turn them away

Quality > Quantity for them

A lot of them look great in crop tops, or waist accentuating clothing like kim k is known for

Watches are usually a staple item they prefer

Looks ~

2K notes · View notes

peaceteaa11 · 10 months

Text

Little Green Dress

Oneshot - Eddie Munson

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader (Y/N)

Ratings: Mostly clean, suggestive comments and actions throughout.

Warnings: Bullying, strong language, harassment, sadness and self doubt. Let me know if I missed something.

Summary: You are nervous, but for a good reason. Hanging out with Eddie's friends is scary considering how different you look from them all. Not to mention they don't seem to like you all that much, hopefully you can change their minds this time. Of course now there is a new factor involved... Eddie's Ex will be in attendance tonight.

A/N: I wrote this at 3am because sleep will not stop me from thinking about our beloved Eddie. Here is a quick oneshot while I work on finishing up Love Luna and My Rockstar. NOT PROOFREAD

Word Count: not sure atm

***Go check out my other Eddie fics! Eddie Munson Masterlist***

You are perfect just the way you are.

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

You couldn’t help but be nervous to be hanging out with Eddie’s friend group again. They all were very intimating even when they didn’t mean to be. You stuck out like a sore thumb when you hung out with them. Dressed in floral patterns, flowy sundresses, and pastels all the time whereas they all dressed like Eddie. Leather, metal, and ripped up jeans. Of course they all looked good doing it too.

You felt their judgements the first time you met them. Why would Eddie pick you of all people to date. You two looked like something out of a romcom that Steve would force you to watch when y’all were younger. Your brother was always the more sensitive one even though you looked to be the obvious answer.

You look on the mirror. Your green sundress flowing around your thighs as you twist and twirl. You love this dress but you question if it’s right for a night out with Eddie and his friends. But the outfit struggle wasn’t even the worst part of this all.

Eddie’s ex was tagging along tonight as well. Her name is Gemma. You haven’t met her before but Eddie promises she’s sweet but that doesn’t stop the worrying and honestly… jealousy from building up in your stomach. Gareth invited her.

You got the feeling that Gareth didn’t like you that much the last time you saw him. He was standoffish and a bit mean. You tried to smile through it for Eddie but honestly you couldn’t understand what you were doing wrong. Tonight you hoped you could break through to him and become friendly at least but him inviting Eddie’s ex girlfriend makes you think he’s not up for that.

Eddie was a bit peeved when he found out Gareth invited her but you could tell it was only because he saw the look on your face when he told you. Your face turned pale and you looked as if you were going to have a panic attack. Eddie assured you there was nothing to worry about.

But as you stare yourself down in the mirror holding up another dress to your body you felt yourself beginning to do just that. Panic. What if she was still in love with Eddie. He was the one who broke up with her after all. He wasn’t too specific as to why but still.

Your eyes flash between the green dress you have on and the blue dress in your hand. Light blue with a shimmer to it when it moved. You decide to change.

Once in the blue dress you smile. The soft shimmer maybe you feel more elegant than before. It was nice. God. You looked in the mirror again. All ready to go. Makeup done. Hair done, curls bouncing against your shoulders. Dress done. You grab a pair of heeled sandals and you sigh.

Here goes nothing.

~~~~~~~~~~

When Eddie pulls up to your house and hops out of his van you rush out the front door. You close the door behind you and just as it latches and you smile at Eddie your brothers voice scares you.

“You sure this is a good idea?” Steve’s voice is laced with worry. You turn to see him sitting on the banister to the porch drinking a soda.

“It’ll be fine.” You smile at him. You had made the mistake of confiding too much in your brother many times and this was one of those times.

“Call me if you need me.” He hums softly. You nod in response and skip down the stairs to your boyfriend who has opened the passenger side door for you.

Eddie had in ripped black jeans, his regular white Reeboks, and a loose fitting Dio shirt on. His shirt is worn and light under his black leather jacket and usual denim vest. His patches growing in number everyday it seems.

“Hi baby bat.” He smiles as he pulls you into a hug.

“Hi.” You giggle. You pull back and Eddie whistles lowly.

“Have I ever mentioned I love this dress.” He scans your figure and lets his hand slide down to your hips.

“Eddie. I’ve only worn this dress once before.” You giggle and he squeezes your hips.

“Yes. And I fell in love with it.” He hums and leans in to kiss you until your brother shouts.

“No!” Steve growls and Eddie glances over your shoulder to see you brother, hands on his hips, glaring at the two do you.

“Steve!” You shout turning around to look at him with wide eyes.

Eddie leans down into you and smiles against your ear. “Maybe we should get going. I want a kiss.” He whispers softly. You giggle and nod.

“You keep her safe Munson!” Steve shouts as Eddie helps you into the van and shuts the door.

“Don’t I always?” He smirks and hops in the van himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the two of you pull up to the Hideout Eddie immediately throws the car in park and grabs your hand.

“Finally.” He chuckles and tugs you closer across the center console. You giggle as he presses his lips to yours and smiles into the kiss.

When you pull apart Eddie hums and shakes his head slightly. He licks his lips and grins. “Ready?”

You nod despite the fact that you are so not ready. You look down at your pastel blue shimmering dress and for some reason regret it. This group of people really knew how to make you rethink everything at least ten times over.

Eddie rounds the van and helps you out. The two of you start to walk and you quickly grab onto the sleeve of his leather jacket for comfort. He chuckles and pulls you into his side. He looks down at you and smiles his stunningly sweet smile as always.

“Don’t be nervous.” He kisses your temple and leads the way in. God. That’s easier said than done when you looked like a pastry compared to him. “Oh there they are!” He shifts his arm from around you and quickly grabs your hand instead.

The bar is rather packed tonight considering the fact that it’s a Saturday. The busiest day for the hideout.

You bite you lip as Eddie leads you up to his friends. Gareth stands there with Jeff, both laughing. Jeff seemed to be the nicer of the two. The only one who seemed to like you last time. Dawn and Crystal both frown when they see you but quickly smile when their eyes fall on Eddie.

“Eddie is here!” Dawn smiles brightly. Gareth looks up and you can see him sigh. Jeff is the only one who smiles at you. He grins and gives you a smile wave to which you eagerly return.

Once in front of all of them you can’t help but slink into Eddie’s side. Gareth swigs his beer while rolling his eyes and Jeff quickly elbows him.

“Hey guys.” Eddie moves from you and you find yourself standing awkwardly hands at your side. Eddie hugs the girls and before fist bumping the guys. He moves to stand back at your side to which you welcome. You wraps his arm around your shoulder and you take this moment to hide from Dawns bright blue eyes.

“Cute dress.” She hums. Nodding to you slightly. Her comment makes Gareth chuckle and you can’t help but feel like you’re the butt of a joke here.

“Thanks.” You say softly.

“Gemma should be here soon.” Gareth grins widely at Eddie and wiggles his brows. You almost wonder if your missing something. Jeff rolls his eyes and looks at you with a sad smile.

“Cool.” Eddie hums.

“Speak of the devil and she shall appear.” Crystal smirks looking over your shoulder. You and Eddie turn to look and your eyes nearly drop from your skull.

In front of you is a tall girl with a bright smile walking towards you guys. Her long black hair is straight and falls smoothly over her shoulders. Her top is a tight green tank top with rips all about and she’s wearing a tight little black leather skirt to go with. When you finally get to her shoes you see tall black strappy heels.

She looks like a model. A rockstar’s girlfriend.

When she finally reaches you she immediately holds out her arms and smiles.

“Hi Eds.” She hums and wraps her arms around him causing him to let you go and quickly wrap his around around her waist. They squeeze each other tightly and when she pulls back you don’t miss her glancing at his lips.

You feel like vomiting. You feel so small and insignificant around her. Not only was she tall and gorgeous, her and Eddie looked like the picture perfect metal couple.

Her eyes shift to you and she grins. “Cute dress.” She hums and extends her hand. “I’m Gemma. You must be?”

You freeze when her hand touches yours. She has the smoothest skin. “Y/n.” You squeak.

“Cute.” She hums again. She then passes you and begins to hug the others.

Soon enough all of you are standing in a circle chatting. Well they are all chatting. You are standing quietly beside Eddie gripping his jacket sleeve.

When Gemma laughs it’s angelic you think to yourself as you watch Eddie watch her.

“So Eds.” Gemma smirks at him. “How have you been. Babe.” She punctuates the last word and you quickly look away from the two of them. You glance around the bar behind you before looking back, eyes landing on Jeff who is watching you. You smile softly and he returns the favor before taking another swig of beer.

“I’ve been good. What about you?” He smiles at her and you feel your stomach turn. This was a bad idea. Your brother was right. You should’ve just stayed home and watched shitty romance movies with him. You would much rather wonder how Eddie was acting around his ex rather than see it in full swing.

“Lonely. I’ve missed seeing you…” her eyes flick to you and then back to Eddie. “All of you of course.”

“You should come around more often.” Gareth cuts in quickly.

“I think I might just.” Gemma hums. As she twirls her hair around her finger.

“We’d all love that!” Dawn grins brightly.

“Yea!” Crystal giggles and spits her drink.

“How about you Eds, babe.” Gemma smirks at him and her eyes narrow. She points at him with her long sharp nail. “Do you miss having me around.”

You can’t help but glance down at you nails. Short and honestly a bit dirty from gardening earlier. You garden when you have to much on your mind and honestly. You wish you were gardening now.

“Sure I do Gem.” Eddie’s voice is gentle and sweet with her. And you don’t miss the nickname. God you feel sickly and invisible.

“Y/n.” Jeff says softly to get your attention. You look at him, ripping your eyes away from Eddie and Gemma. As they stare at each other, standing directly across from one another.

“Hm?” Jeff, who stands across from you smiles as you hum in response.

“You okay? You look… pale.” Jeff’s words seem to catch Eddie’s attention as you looks down at you for the first time in a while.

“Baby? You okay?” He hums and places his hand on your cheek.

You nod. “I’m good. Just thirsty I think. I’ll go get myself a drink.”

“I’ll come with you.” He hums.

“Get me my usual won’t you Eds?” Gemma smiles at him, batting her eyes. You felt a bit angry at this but more than anything. You felt sick.

“Sure Gem.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Eddie wait at the bar for the drinks as you watch the hideout patrons busy dancing and laughing. From here you can’t see Eddie’s friends and honestly. It sends a wave of relief over you.

“Baby.” Eddie’s voice breaks you from your staring. You look up at him and he smiles at you. “What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”

“I don’t think your friends like me very much.” You force a small laugh but Eddie’s face shifts from smiley to serious.

“Sure they do. What’s not to like about you.” He grabs your face with both his hands and presses his lips firmly to yours. You melt into him a bit until he pulls back. “You just gotta jump in okay? Speak up and they’ll love you! Just like I do.” You raise your brow at this and he chuckles. “Okay maybe not just like I do.” He smirks as his hands slide down your body and quickly find your ass.

He pulls you into his body and hums to himself slightly before meeting your gaze with big brown eyes filled with lust. “If we were alone. I’d wreck you. In this pretty pastel dress.” He smirks causing you to blush deeply.

You shove your face into his chest and shake your head. “Eddie!” You giggle into him and he chuckles back.

“Gimme a kiss.” He says quickly. You pull back without hesitation and lean up onto your tiptoes. He squeezes your ass tightly as your lips meet and then pulls back. “I gotta use the bathroom. Will you take the drinks back to the group?”

“You…” you want to say… ‘you want me to take this back and hangout with your friends alone?!’ But instead you stop yourself and smile. “Okay. Yeah. Sure.”

“Baby bat. Don’t be nervous. You’re too lovable for any of them to hate you.” He quickly kisses your cheek and heads off into the back of the bar.

You grab your water and chug it down before grabbing Eddie and Gemma’s beers which you don’t miss the fact that they are the same. You start to head back over and just as they come into view again a guy accidentally cuts you off. You don’t mind as you try to slip past him while he talks with a friends.

As you try to weave your way back to them you half when you hear Gareth’s voice. “I told you she was freaky.” He chuckles and you hear laughter from several others.

“What is she wearing by the way?” Gemma’s smooth voice breaks through the music.

“Oh! She always dresses like that!” Crystals voice this time.

“She looks like a wannabe Barbie.” Gemma laughs cause the others to join.

“Oh and she is always clinging to Eddie like a lost puppy. It’s annoying!” Gareth slurs his way through the sentence. Then you hear Jeff cut in.

“Hey. She’s just different from us.” He adds in and you feel a bit protected but it doesn’t stop the others.

“I can’t believe Eddie actually likes her. I mean she’s not exactly his type.” Gemma scoffs.

“Yea! When they first started dating I literally laughed in his face I couldn’t believe it. She’s like a child to be honest. Always dressed like a doll.” Gareth jabs. More laughter erupts. You feel the tears pricking your eyes.

“We’ll. It’s still early in the relationship. He has time to change his mind.” Crystal says.

“Yea. To make the right decision.” Dawn giggles.

“I just don’t see what he sees in her.” Gemma says harshly. “I mean. We were much more compatible than whatever the fuck she is. I mean. She’s literally a pint sized, pastel covered nightmare.”

“Well. Eddie was totally flirting with you tonight. I think the old spark was coming back to him.” Crystal giggles like a schoolyard girl.

“Yea. I noticed that. Honestly. Do you guys think if I gave him the option he’d actually choose her. I don’t think so.” Gemma says cockily.

“Honestly. That was my plan. Get you here to knock some sense back into Eddie. Cause there is no way I can handle being around her much longer.” Gareth groans.

“What? Why would you do that?” Jeff asks sharply.

“Because she’s annoying Jeff.”

“She never says anything to us. She’s nothing but nice. I don’t understand y’all. Plus Eddie seems to actually like her why would you wanna ruin that.”

“Oh please Jeff. He only likes her cause Gemma was out of the picture.” Crystal cuts in.

“Ya think? I honestly can’t with how sexy he looks tonight.” Gemma practically moans as she finishes her sentence.

“Bottom line is. Y/n is annoying. And she’s got to go.” Gareth hums casually.

Just then the guy and his friend decide to head to the bar and you are there staring at the group. You blink back your tears as their eyes land on you. Gareth shrinks back when he sees you. His eyes going wide. Jeff frown at you with sad eyes and Gemma and the girls all try to hide their giggles.

You quickly walk over to them and smile but you know it probably looks sad.

“Eddie is in the bathroom but wanted you to get you drink. So here ya go.” You smile at Gemma having to tilt your head up slightly.

Gemma takes the drink from your hand and smiles. “Thanks.” She immediately takes a swig. “You drink as well?” She questions.

You nod but shrug “Yeah but not tonight. This is Eddie’s.” You look down to the floor briefly.

“Mmm so he still gets my usual. How sweet.” Gemma hums. You look up and her eyes are still on you. Everyone’s eyes are on you. The only one who seems nervous that you heard though seems to be Gareth.

“Yeah sweet.” You force a smile. “Actually could you hold this for him. I’m gonna go make a call.” You hand her his drink and she grins like an animal.

“Sure.”

“Who are you calling?” Jeff asks quickly. His eyes scanning you with what seems like worry.

“My brother.” You frown and turn away.

“Awe cute.” Gemma giggles.

As you rush away back towards the bar and phone you hear Gemma laugh loudly. “You think she heard us?”

~~~~~~~~~

“Steve you were right.” You sob into the phone finally letting the tears streak down your cheeks.

“What happened?!” Steve says into the phone and you can heard him grabbing his car keys already. And you are beyond thankful.

“Please just come get me.”

“I’m coming. I’m coming. Stand out front. I’ll be there in five.”

The hideout was ten minutes away but you knew your brother would be here in five just like he said. You hang up the phone and sniffle before pushing your way to the front door.

As you step out into the cool night air and shivered a bit. You rub your hands up and down your arms praying Steve would get there quicker.

Suddenly you feel a hand on your shoulder and you spin around. You half expect to be met with Eddie’s worried brown eyes but instead you are met with a random stranger.

“Whatcha doing out here s’all lone?” The man slurs.

You shrug his hand off your shoulder and step back.

“Waiting on my brother.” You say flatly.

“Why don’t you come back in and let me buy you a drink, pretty thing.” He reaches out for you again but stumble back once more.

“No thanks. Please. Just leave me alone.” You practically beg but it seems to only upset the man.

He grabs you by your shoulders and squeezes you.

“No need to be a bitch.” He spits and you turn your face away from him. “Just come inside with me. Or bet yet my car is over there.”

“No I don’t want to!” You feel you heart beat pick up and you try to yank free but only manage to get away enough for him to grab both of your wrists.

His grip is so tight you know they will be sore if not bruise by tomorrow. “Please let me go.” You practically cry out as he starts to tug you towards his car. You hear a car pull into the lot and you yank yourself back from the man against but he still doesn’t release your wrist.

“Let go of me!” You scream out and you hear a car door slam.

“HEY!” The sound of your brothers voice echoes across the parking lot. You hear gravel beneath his feet and just as he approaches you she the hideout doors open from behind the man and you see Eddie with all his friends behind him.

Eddie’s eyes widen and you can see him start to move into action but your brother beats him to it. Taking a baseball bat to the man’s back.

“Get the fuck away from her.” The man immediately lets you go and you practically fall back into Steve’s arms.

Steve squeezes you into his chest and points the bat at the man who is now sprawled out in the gravel lot.

“You ever touch my sister again and I’ll beat your face in.” Then Steve quickly points the bat at Eddie. “And where were you?! Fucker!” Steve let’s you go and moves towards Eddie whose eyes are fixated on you.

“Baby! Are you okay?” His voice is strained and his face looks as if he is in physical pain.

“She’s good! No thanks to you or your asshole friends. You stay the fuck away from her, Munson.” Steve walks closer to Eddie making him rip his eyes away from you and focus on him.

“Steve I-“

“You stay away from us. Don’t you ever even think-“

“Steve stop!” You shout as you stomp over to him. You rip the bat from his hand and swing it over your shoulder. “Let’s just go.”

“Y/n” Eddie’s voice pleads from behind you. You whip around to meet his eyes but you can help but notice all his friends staring at you too.

You turn back to your brother and shove the bat into his chest. “I just wanna go home.” You huff. Anger about the whole night begins to set in. Steve glares at Eddie and then looks to you.

“You said you would keep her safe.” Steve says simply. “I trusted you.” He huffs and grabs your arms gently and starts leading you to the car that is still on and sitting in the center of the lot.

“Y/n wait please!” You hear Eddie from behind you and it seems like he’s about to follow you until you hear Gemma’s voice.

“Just wait Eds. Let them go.”

And he does. He lets you go.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were right about your wrists. They are bruised pretty bad as you slide your garden gloves on.

After you got home Steve demanded to know what happened. After your telling of the night Steve was a little less mad at Eddie and more mad at his friends but he still wouldn’t let go of the fact that he trusted Eddie to keep you safe and he failed.

In your eyes Eddie didn’t fail. You were the one who left. And without telling Eddie. Which Steve scolded you for. But he couldn’t really be mad when you started crying about how mean his friends were and how beautiful Gemma was.

You slide open the back door and begin to step out until you hear Steve walk into the room.

“How you feeling?” He asks.

You turn to face him and sigh. “I miss Eddie.” You admit. Maybe Gareth was right. Maybe you’re annoyingly clingy. Because all you wanted right now was to curl up in Eddie’s lap and stroke his hair. You missed him even though it’s only the next morning.

“Y/n. I’m sorry I snapped last night. I know he wasn’t really… the problem. But… if he shows up here I’m punching him in his nose.” Steve crosses his arms and you giggle. Your brother is protective but there is no way he’s going to punch your boyfriend.

If Eddie even still wants to be your boyfriend. After the scene you caused last night you’re sure his friends have talked him out of it. If anything you’re sure he’ll show up just to break up.

“Okay Steve. Whatever you say.”

“You going to the garden?” He asks softly and you simply nod. “Want some company?”

You shake your head and turn to head outside. “I just wanna be alone right now.”

~~~~~~~~~~

About an hour passes of you crying into the soil of your lilies. You can’t help but let the tears roll down your face. Replaying the night over and over again. Wondering if there was something you did to encourage them to talk that way about you. Maybe they were right. You were just a pastel nightmare. An annoying girlfriend. Why would Eddie chose you when someone like Gemma wants him?

You sigh as you weakly pull at a weed. And pull and pull and pull. So weakly it barely moves from the soil. You cry harder.

You look down at yourself. Jeans covered in dirt at the knees. Dirty old shirt hanging loosely around your frame. Your hair in a ponytail. You were a mess. Gemma probably never looked like such a mess. God. There is not a doubt in your mind that Eddie is going to end up choosing her but damn if it doesn’t break your heart.

You sniffle as you tug at the weed once more. Still no movement.

“You’re probably gonna have to pull harder than that, baby.” Eddie’s sweet voice makes you jump. You quickly wipe your puffy eyes with your sleeves and turn to face him. You stay huddled in the dirt on your knees as you look up at him. The sun beating down on his back.

He stands before you in jeans and a loose shirt and smiles down at you until his eyes settle on yours. He frowns deeply. “Baby. How much have you been crying?!” He drops to his knees in front of you and grabs your face causing you to shift and turn your whole body towards him. “Baby.” He coos as he runs his calloused thumbs over your puffy cheeks.

“Sorry.” You sniffle and pull your gloves off to wipe your eyes. As you do Eddie gently grabs your arms and pulls your hands down in front of him.

You watch as his teeth grit and jaw clench while he softly rubs the bruises on your wrists. “Do they hurt?” He says continuing to stare at them.

“No.” You rush to answer. He glances up to you and squints.

“My love.” He says lowly.

“A little.” You frown. And he sighs.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers his voice breaking as he does.

“It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have left without telling you.”

“I should’ve been there.” He huffs as he rubs your wrist again and you see his knuckles all black and blue.

“Eddie what happened?!” You shift and it’s your turn to grab his hands. You frown and look up into his eyes. His brown eyes narrow and he grimaces. “Eddie.”

“Steve only got in one good hit. I did the rest of the work that’s all.” He says this so calmly you almost feel as if you shouldn’t be worried. But you are.

“What?! Why would you do that?!” You stare into his eyes and he chuckles.

“Baby bat. He can’t just do this to you and get away with it. I had to beat his teeth in.”

“Eddie!” You gasp and he smiles at you. “You didn’t hurt him too badly did you?” His grin grows when you say this.

“Only you would be worried about your attacker.” Eddie shakes his head causing his curls to fall around his shoulders.

“I’m not worried about him! I’m worried about you. You could’ve gotten hurt or ended up in jail!” You watch as his face falls and he blushes. “You ended up in jail?!” You groan and he chuckles.

“It was only overnight. Hopper let me go once I told him what happened.”

“Eddie.” You practically whine and before you can say anything Eddie leans in and kisses you softly. You lean into him until you hear him whine a bit. You pull back and stare at him. “You okay?”

“Uh yea… it’s just my nose. Your brother got in a good one.” Eddie’s sentence makes your jaw drop.

“He actually hit you?!” You grab his face and scan it intensely causing his cheeks to squish in a bit.

“Yesh.” He says. His lips puckered and squished. You let go of his face and pull back. “I deserved it. Plus it was only one punch. I don’t think he broke anything.” Eddie shrugs.

“Eds I’m so-“ you stop. Eds. It feels tainted now.

“Hey what just happened?” He grabs your hand and pulls it to his chest. “Where did you just go.”

You shake your head and shrug pulling your hand back. And suddenly you realize your hand is on his knee as well. You pull that back too. You are too clingy.

“Hey hey hey. What’s going on baby bat?” He searches your face as you try to avoid eye contact.

“Nothing. I just… it’s nothing.”

“Look at me.” He says gently. “Please.”

You look up and immediately are met with his gentle brown doe eyes.

“Jeff told me everything that happened. Said you probably heard most of it if not all of it.” Eddie frowns as he grabs you hand once more. He brings it to his lips and gently kisses your knuckles. “No matter what you heard. It’s not true.”

You shake your head a bit. “That’s the thing though. It is.” You go to drop you head but Eddie takes his other hand and grabs your chin.

“It’s not. You are far from a nightmare.” He grabs at your waist now with both hands and pulls you into his lap. He shifts so he is crisscrossed and you are straddling his hips. “You are not annoying. You are not any of the things those assholes said. Besides pint sized.” He jokes and you can’t help but smile.

His thumbs dip under your shirt and rub circles into your hips as he continues to talk.

“And most importantly. I do not want anyone besides you. All the scheming in the world would not make me want to leave you. Gemma is a ghost of the past. And now you can see why I left her there.” He stares into your eyes and continues to rub your skin.

“Oh yes. Her overwhelming beauty, style, and commonality with you. Yes. Makes sense.” You sigh and go to look away but Eddie captures your lips with his. He smiles when you start to kiss him back and then he quickly pulls back. Giving you one more peck before continuing.

“You are everything she is not. You are kind. Caring. Gentle. Beautiful. Loving. And most importantly you are nothing like me.” He grins and you shake your head a bit.

“I wanna be like you.” You frown. And all he can do is chuckle.

“My love, I wanna be like you.” His gentle smile is contagious and your lips tug up into a grin as well.

“She likes you.” You whisper.

“I love you.” He whispers back. Your eyes widen as you stare at him. Searching his face for a joke or hint of one. He stays serious which he doesn’t often do.

“You what?” You quickly place your hands on his shoulders as if to stabilize yourself.

“I love you. Only a few months in and I’m head over heels in love with you my baby bat. I don’t want anyone but you. I go to bed and think of you. I dream of you. Then I wake up and think of you again. My every moment is consumed by thoughts of you and your smile, your laugh, your eyes, your kindness, your everything. I don’t care what any of those fucks think of you or me or us. It’s our relationship. You’re my baby. No one needs to understand us but us. Sure. You’re bubbly and kind and covered in flowers and dirt most of the time while I’m sweaty and standoffish and covered in leather and metal but that’s us. And I love us. I love you. I’m so in love with you it hurts. It hurts to be away from you. It hurts to see you cry. It hurts to know I let you get hurt. I’m so stupidly and happily in love it drives me fucking wild. I just can’t get enough of you ever. I love when you cling to my jacket and hide in my side. I love when you whisper to me when you’re nervous. I love when you-“

You smash your lips into his causing him to lean back a bit. You wrap your hands up in his hair and tug gently as his hands travel up and down your back pulling you in as close as he can get you. You kiss him until you’re both out of breath and his eyes are blown out black circles. When you pull back you stare at him with flushed cheeks and smile.

“I’m in love with you too.” You smile as you nudge your nose against his forgetting momentarily about your brothers punch until Eddie hisses softly. You pull back and grab his face. “Oh! I’m sorry!” You cry out and he chuckles.

“Come back here.” He whines and pulls your face back to his. Foreheads touching and he closes his eyes.

As you sit here all your worries wash away. Eddie loves you. He’s in love with you. That’s all you want. That’s all you need.

Eddie’s hands gently run up and down your back and he hums softly.

“They said I dress like a doll.” You sigh. “Is that true?” You wonder. Not really offended anymore. Not now that you had Eddie wrapped around you. More just curious.

Eddie pulls back gently and scans you. “You aren’t dressed like a doll now.” He points out but you squint. You gasp and point at his face.

“You think I dress like I doll!”

“Not all the time!!” He whines and quickly covers your face in kisses. You giggle until he settle his head on your shoulder. Hiding his face away in your neck. His warm breath fanning your skin sending shivers down your spine.

Suddenly Eddie licks a strip up your neck till he reaches your ear. He nibbles at your ear and sighs softly and you tighten your hands in his hair.

“Besides. I like when you dress like a doll if it means you wear that sexy little dress of yours.” He practically moans in your ear and you can’t help but sigh into him. “In fact I love all your little dresses. Especially that little green number you got.” He gently kisses your neck before nipping at your skin. You let out a soft moan and he grins against your skin.

You both sit there for a moment as Eddie lays soft kisses along your neck.

“Why don’t we go inside and I’ll slip into that green dress.” You whisper shyly and Eddie snaps up. You giggle when he scans your face and smirks.

“Awe. You wanna put it on just for me to take it off again? Hmm.” He leans and pecks your lips softly. “Seems time consuming but I’ll be damned if I don’t wanna see you put it on.”

“Come on. You know your favorite part is taking them off. Im being generous.” You smirk.

“God I love you like this. Let’s go!”

Eddie helps you off his lap and jumps to his feet. He grabs your hand and the two of you stumble over each other to get inside. Wandering past Steve, giggling at each other and rushing up the stairs to your bedroom.

As Eddie basically slams the door shut you pick the green dress up off the floor and disappear into your closet. Quickly you change and when you come back out into the room Eddie is sitting on your bed with a soft smile on his face.

When he sees you his face falls and his eyes widen. "Damnit. Okay." He huffs mostly to himself as he sits up a bit straighter on your bed.

"What?" You giggle as you twirl around in front of him. You can barely finish the turn before Eddie grabs your hips and pulls you closer. Now you stand between his legs and he stares up at you with a shit eating grin plastered across his lips.

"You're too beautiful. I can't think." He groans and throws his head back causing you to laugh loudly.

"I was actually gonna wear this last night but got too nervous." You hum gently as your hands find his chest and gently run up and down his shirt.

He snaps his head up and gapes at you. "Are you kidding me?!" He shakes his head and leans into your stomach for a moment before pulling back to look into your eyes once more. "Actually it's probably good you didn't wear this cause... we would've both been in that bathroom."

His smirk provokes a giggle from you. he grabs your hips and squeezes them before planting a kiss on the side of your ribs.

"Wanna skip to your favorite part? Taking this thing off." You smirk causing his eyes to meet yours and he smirks.

"Fuck yes." He moans out as he quickly moves you both. He tosses you back onto your bed and you giggle up at him as he crawls over you. Running his hand up the side of your thigh. "On Second thought... let's keep it on." He smirks.

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

That's all folks. Let me know what you think about this! Hope you all enjoyed the angsty romance.

Peace and Love, Babes.

Taglist - @iwillbiteabitch @and-claudia @ruinedbythehobbit @luvmybbies @wannabeyousobad @llodinsonlll @tlclick73 @i-love-ptv-vic @mischiefmanagers @tvserie-s-world @magnificantmermaid @brieho3 @saramelaniemoon @sidthedollface2 @saayanaaa @mylovelycrazyworld

#eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie my beloved #stranger things #peaceteaaposts #fictional crushes #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie x fem!reader

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tylermileslockett · 2 months

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"The gifts of the gods" (image #5 in my "Quest for the Gorgon Head" series)

Part 5:

Perseus is guided to the coast where the “Nereids” (sea nymphs) offer sacred objects to assist the boy in his quest; winged sandals for flight, Hades’ helmet (or cap) of invisibility, and a knapsack called a “Kibisis” to hold the severed head of the Gorgon.

In ancient Greek art the Nereids are typically portrayed as long dressed maidens riding dolphins or Hippocampi (half-horse half-fish creatures) or even having lower fish bodies (aka the mythic precursors to mermaids). The Nereids were known to help sailors in distress, and some mortals on mythic quests, such as Thetis, Achilles mother, who delivered Hephaestus’ sacred armor to her son, Achilles at Troy. The Nereids also famously assisted Jason in his search for the Golden Fleece. The sea nymphs had a darker side as well, when they and Poseidon send a sea monster to ravage the coast of a kingdom, which will intertwine with Perseus’ Myth soon.

Above right, Hermes, to behead Medusa, offers a sickle sword of “Adamantine” which was said to be an indestructible, diamond like metal. Athena offers a shimmering, bronze shield, so that Perseus might use it as a mirror and avoid looking directly into the Gorgon’s eyes. So, now with his sacred boons attained, Perseus is now ready to fly to the land beyond Oceanus, to the cursed land of the gorgons to take the head of Medusa.

Like this art? It will be in my illustrated book with over 130 other full page illustrations coming in June to kickstarter. to get unseen free hi-hes art subscribe to my email newsletter

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#greekmythology #greekgods #pjo #mythology #classics #classicscommunity #myths #ancientgreece #danae #perseus #medusa #gorgon #digitalart #digitalartworks #digitalartgallery #digitalartpainting #illustrationart #drawing

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 10 months

Text

Faerie and Vampr

Chapter Five

Half the patrons of Marco’s Bar and Grill thought Erik had a hand in the markings on the women’s bodies. The other 50 percent thought that some of the vampire’s from bigger towns or cities had bitten Maudette and Dawn when they were out bar hopping, and they deserved what they got if they wanted to go to bed with vampires. Some thought the girls had been strangled by a vampire, some thought they had just continued their promiscuous ways into disaster.

But most importantly, everyone who came into Marco’s was worried that some other woman would be killed next. Tamara couldn’t count the times she was told to be careful, to watch her vampire friend who popped up in town recently, told to lock her doors and take the day shift instead. Lloyd came in for both commiseration and suspicion as a man who’d “dated” both women.

He had come by the house one day and stayed around for about an hour while Nana Sylvia and Tamara tried to encourage him to keep going with his work and doing what Lloyd normally does. But for the first time in Tamara’s memory, her handsome brother was really worried. She hated that he got himself mixed up with those women. It’s unfortunate what happened to them, but now her brother could be in trouble with the law for something he didn’t do.

Tamara didn’t try to dwell on the deaths of the two women. Although everyone else was suspicious of her brother and Erik, all she could think about was that kiss two nights ago. His lips, so soft and skillful, had her dreaming of what it would be like to roll around in the sheets kissing him all night long. The dream didn’t go further than kissing, which was enough to have her pink and white panties wet waking up that morning, but the possibility of sex with Vampyr Erik did cross Tamara’s mind.

It was the evening for Crimson Mist. Tamara finally pulled a simple dress from her closet after going through half of her dress collection and littering her bed. She felt it was perfect for the occasion. It was a nice date dress, if you wanted the personal interest of whoever was your escort. It was a body con dress. Tight and black. The fabric was clinging to every dip, curve, and valley. Her brown skin glowed and her cleavage showed. She completed the look with metallic silver high-heeled sexy sandals, a delicate sterling silver chain necklace that draped between her breasts, and silver hoops. She put on light glam makeup and wore her hair in a fresh wash-and-go.

Nana Sylvia’s eyes widened when she came out of her room.

“Sugar, you look beautiful,” she said. “Aren’t ya’ gonna be a little cold in that dress?”

Tamara giggled, “No, ma’am, I don’t think so. It’s pretty warm tonight.”

“Ya’ sure?” Nana Sylvia pressed. “a nice white sweater, the one I got ya’ for Christmas—”

“Okay, how about I grab my moto jacket just in case it cools down?”

Tamara looked and felt sexy. Something she rarely gets a chance to feel. She was pretty excited about going on a date with Erik, though she kind of asked him herself and it was more of a fact-finding mission. Plus, it’s his bar. Would it count as a date at his own business?

“See,” Tamara showed Nana Sylvia her moto jacket, “This goes well with it, doesn’t it?”

“Yes. I’m not tryna tell ya’ what to do.”

Tamara kisses her Nana on the cheek. A knock on the door had Nana Sylvia moving faster than Tamara to be the first to open the door. She fixed her silver hair that was styled in a low bun and adjusted her house dress with different tribal patterns on it. She gasped with excitement and opened her arms in true grandma fashion, pulling Erik’s cold body into a warm embrace.

“Erik! It’s so good to see ya’ again! How are ya’, handsome?”

“Takin’ it easy, Miss Sylvia. Ya’ lookin’ beautiful. I hope all is well wit’ ya’.”

“Oh,” Nana Sylvia blushed. “It's well. All is well. Come in! Come in! Darn moths…”

Erik chuckled, swatting a few away before shutting the door behind him. His eyes scanned the foyer with immense joy before they fell on Tamara standing awkwardly to his right.

Erik wore a white beater that left little to the imagination— an eight pack and pecs to match. Black jeans that fit tighter at the ankles and loose in the waist were on his lower half. He had on a moto jacket himself but it was black and white. Tungsten steel pendants hung from his neck and various rings in tungsten accessorized his thick fingers. Onyx earrings bejeweled both ears and high top black and white vans were on his feet.

When he saw her, Tamara wasn’t sure if she’d overdone it because he seemed really annoyed. His face went quite still. His eyes flared. His fingers curved as if he were scooping something up with them. Tamara had to remind herself that she couldn’t hear his thoughts. The one person who she’d give anything to listen in on.

“Is this okay?” Tamara asked anxiously. She felt the butterflies in her belly.

“…Yes,” He finally spoke. But his pause had been long enough to get Nana Sylvia’s attention.

“Look, sugar, ya’ got this man speechless!!” Nana Sylvia laughed, “My Tammy is the prettiest girl around!”

“Oh, yes,” Erik agreed, but there was a curious lack of inflection in his deep voice.

Tamara didn’t know what to think. She wanted to call the entire date off then. What was his fucking problem? Screw him. This isn’t a damn date anyway. Tamara stiffened her back and walked up to him, linking her arm in his.

“Ready?” She said with her own annoyance.

“Yes,” Erik turned to Nana Sylvia with a pleasant half smirk, “Good-bye, Miss Sylvia. It was a pleasure seeing ya’ again.”

“You as well, Erik, you two have a good ol’ time. Take care of my sugar foot!” she said, waving them out of the house.

“Nanaaa,” Tamara fussed with a whiny voice.

“Girl, hush.” Nana Sylvia said.

“Always,” Erik chuckled before he looked down at Tamara, guiding her down the porch steps.

Nana Sylvia waited in the door until they were both safe in his flashy sports car. It’s so black Tamara couldn’t see it until they were standing right in front of it. Erik took her jacket and held her door open as she slipped inside. He shut the door softly and like lighting he was on the drivers side and entering. His car had that new car smell and it was so pristine. The leather seat was warm and molded into her body comfortably. He kindly turned on the AC and she buckled herself in.

Erik took off and Tamara loved how smooth the car drove. Like the tires were gliding on water. Smokestack Lightning played from the Bluetooth in his car and Tamara glanced over at the way he drove one-handed with his left hand while his other hand rested in his lap. She gripped her clutch tightly in her lap, trying to find a way to break the ice.

“I’m sorry I’m not dressed to your liking,” Tamara said sarcastically, staring straight ahead of her.

Erik came to a slow halt in the woods just a mile from the road.

“Who said all that?” Erik asked, his voice very gentle.

“You looked at me like I did something wrong by wearin’ this dress, Erik,” Tamara snapped.

“I’m just doubting my ability to get ya’ in and out without having to kill someone who wants ya’.”

Tamara slowly turned to look at Erik.

“You’re being sarcastic.” She turned her gaze back in front of her again but her heart was racing.

Suddenly, Erik’s hand gripped her chin, forcing her to turn and look at him.

“Do I look like I am?” Erik asked.

His dark eyes were wide and unblinking.

“No…” Tamara admitted.

“Then accept what I say.”

He let go of her chin and Tamara sat back in her seat while he resumed driving.

“So…ya’ like it then?” Tamara asked with a small voice.

Erik licked his lips and then stole a look at her dress before turning his attention back onto the road.

“I love the dress. A lot.”

His eyes went to her again and he scanned her body from head to toe. He took a deep breath in and released it slowly. Tamara glanced over at his lap and she noticed that he was clenching his right fist.

“Thank you.”

“Ya’ welcome,” Erik shifted his hips. “What are ya’ wearing on ya’ skin?”

“Huh?” Tamara touched the side of her neck with her fingertips, “Oh, oh uh…Tom Ford. Lost Cherry.”

“That scent was made for ya’. It enhances your natural pheromones…”

Tamara jumped slightly when Erik pressed his face into her neck and inhaled. Her eyes flashed to the road and he was driving in a straight line to her surprise. He reselfaced and his eyes were low like he was on a super high. Tamara pulled down the mirror above her to apply more gloss to her lips. The choice of music went from blues to R&B and Tamara admired his taste in music. He’d been around long enough to experience it all.

“Can we roll the windows down? I’d like fresh air if that’s okay…please?”

“I gotcha,” Erik switched off the AC and brought the front two windows all the way down, “good?”

“Perfect,” Tamara’s long spirals blew in the wind and in her face. She smiled to herself, a surge of confidence overcoming her.

“What are ya’ smilin’ ‘bout?” Erik asked with a smile of his own.

“Nothingggg,” Tamara smoothed hair from her eyes.

“Do I have to get it out of ya, little one?”

“How will you do that?” She turned to look at him.

Erik simply placed his hand on her thigh and squeezed it gently. Tamara’s back stiffened and she looked down at his hand. She knew he could grip her harder than that, and the thought turned her on. He started stroking her inner thigh and she gasped. He caught that.

“Are ya’ gon’ tell me, baby girl?” His black eyes fell on her and he arched a single thick brow.

“…Okay,” She rolled her eyes, “I like that you like what I’m wearing…I like that I made ya’ happy.”

“Why was that so hard to say, Tammy?”

“I don’t know,” She blushed.

“I make ya’ nervous, Sugar?”

It wasn’t a question.

And why did Sugar sound so good Rolling off his tongue?

Tamara didn’t respond.

“It’s okay. You make me nervous too.”

Tamara didn’t believe that for a second. She looked at him with an accusatory stare. Erik caught her looking and cracked a dimpled smile.

“Seriously. It’s hard for me to act normal around ya’. I’ve never had this close of a relationship with a human in over eighty years. I’m constantly in my head, trying to impress ya’, tryna’ fight ma’ urges…”

Tamara let his words sink in. She didn’t know vampires could get nervous. She smiled again knowing that she made Erik nervous. This vampire sitting next to her.

“We’re not so different,” Erik smirked.

Tamara suddenly had the courage to kiss him. She leaned over in her seat and pecked Erik’s cheek. He blinked twice rapidly as if brought out of hypnosis and looked at her. She giggled and shook her head before turning her body fully in her seat. Tamara slipped her feet out of her sandals and brought her feet up to rest on his dashboard but paused when she realized what she was about to do.

“I’m sorry—”

“It’s alright—”

“I’m so used to doin’ it in Lloyd’s truck—”

“Put ya’ pretty feet up there, I don’t care.” Erik said.

“Ya’ sure?”

“Yes.”

Tamara stretched her legs. She noticed Erik admiring her toes with nails painted white and a gold anklet with the letter E on it.

“Thank ya’ for the kiss. But it wasn’t exactly the kiss that I wanted.” Erik said.

“You’re driving right now and I didn’t want to distract ya’ too much,” Tamara replied.

Erik pulled over on the side of the road and put the car in park. Without a word or a warning, he was out of the car and on Tamara’s side within one breath. She watched as he opened her door and held his hand out for her to take. After slipping on her heels, Tamara grasped his hand with a curious look on her face. Erik shut the door and walked her around to the trunk of the car. In a black night that hugged the skin, that brought full comfort to the soul, the headlights became like lighthouse beams.

“What are we doin’ out here, Erik?” Tamara questioned with an ethereal voice.

Her back is towards the car and he’s standing in front of her. He’s so close now that her ass bumped the trunk and she realized that he’d trapped her. She looked him in the eyes, waiting with bated breath. Erik’s hands molded into her waist and then he lifted her to sit on the trunk.

“I want a proper kiss.” Erik said.

“We’re wasting time.”

“Not when I own that motherfucka’…”

Tamara tilted her head in thought. What was there to think about?

“I’m trying to decide if you deserve it—”

Erik had his hand in her hair and his lips on hers. Tamara gripped his biceps and squeezed, her body leaning forward to press against his chest. Erik’s hands moved to cup her face and their heads swiveled from left to right. His tongue swiped her bottom lip to grant him access into her sweet mouth and she parted her lips for him to divulge.

The pouty softness of her bottom lip against the plumpness of his upper lip sent shock waves through her. The evening breeze blew her curls into Erik’s eyes and his locs fell over his forehead from the movement. Tamara broke the kiss and Erik’s eyes noticed how swollen her lips were. He could taste her gloss on his lips and tongue and their eyes met with emotions so strong words couldn’t describe.

“Maybe we should…get goin’,” Tamara said with a feathery voice.

Erik could hear her heart pumping through her chest. With his enhanced night vision, he could see the perspiration clinging to her exposed skin and the stiffness of her nipples. If only he had X-ray vision. Her hair is shiny; like black silk and she smelled like sweet almond milk and cherries.

“Why are ya’ in such a rush, Tammy?” Erik asked.

“I–I’m not.”

Erik gave her a disbelieving look with a smirk, “it’s just kissin’, baby girl. I promise I’ll excuse my hands and…other things…until ya’ give me the green light.”

He heard the tremble in her breath.

“Ya’ seem to enjoy our kissing a lot so,” Erik took one of her curls and wrapped it around his finger, “Ya’ want more?” His lips were so close to hers, “‘Cause I do.”

Tammy closes the space between them and with her arms around his shoulders she takes the lead. Erik’s right arm came around Tamara’s waist and her back arched, pressing her soft chest against his vigorous chest. As she nibbled on his bottom lip, Erik’s right hand smoothed down her back until he picked her up to straddle him. The split in her body con dress made it easier for her legs to come around his tapered waist. Both of his hands palmed her ass and his rigid dick would have caressed her sex if it wasn’t for him sitting her back down on the car. She would have been so ready to take him with how wet she is. He could smell her arousal and it was just as sweet.

“Ya’ right, let’s go.” Erik said between breaths.

His fangs had materialized during their kissing session and Tamara hadn’t noticed. She was having a hard time catching her own breath.

“Okay,” She smoothed her hair from her face.

She couldn’t hide her disappointment.

“Patience, baby,” Erik said, stroking her chin.

His fangs popped back in and Erik picked Tamara up and spun her around before dropping her to her feet quickly. She gasped, staring up at him flustered until a bright smile graced her face.

“I can’t stay mad at you for long,” She admitted.

“I wouldn’t want you to. It breaks my undead heart,” Erik replied jokingly.

They got back in the car and resumed their drive to Crimson Mist with his hand on her thigh and her feet on his dash.

Crimson Mist, the vampire bar and nightclub, was located on Bourbon Street. It was situated within an alleyway and secluded. The name of the place was spelled out in jazzy red neon above the door, and the facade was painted black, with a red door providing color contrast.

Erik walked around to open Tamara’s door, and he helped her out with one hand while shutting the door with the other. With an arm around her waist, Erik guided Tamara towards the entrance where two bouncers were carding people before entering. When they noticed Erik approaching, one of them opened the door for him to enter. She could sense that those men were both vampires and Erik detected her nervousness.

They were standing in a little boxy entrance hall with red lights.

“Breathe, Tammy,” Erik whispered into her hair, “Stick to my side at all times.”

Past a black velvet drape, Tamara got her first comprehensive look at Crimson Mist’s interior. Everything was black and red. The walls were covered with upholstered paneling that reminded Tamara of sound proof foam. There are two bars on each side of the club, a stage for entertainment and another stage with a throne chair situated on it. Random stripper poles with beautiful women twirling from them. The music was deafening, the people were dressed in leather, chains and whips. The lighting was dim, of course, nothing unusual about that.

Vampire groupies and tourists were among the majority of patrons and it made it easier to distinguish the undead from the living. Some of the living looked ridiculous with their capes, fake fangs, and painted blood. They were extraordinary, and extraordinarily pathetic. The undead were like real jewels in a bin of rhinestones. They mostly favored dark clothes too, but were more interesting.

With Erik still clinging to her, Tamara continued to look around with interest and amazement and some distaste. All eyes were on them, probably because of Erik. He leaned down to whisper to her.

“You look like a white candle in a coal mine.”

Tamara giggled, and then they strolled through the scattered crowd of people to the bar. There was a never ending supply of alcohol on fancy glass shelves behind the bar and Tamara could also see bottled blood either refrigerated or warm in cases for the vampires. The laminated menu attached to the sticky bar top in black marble had signature drinks like a bloodthirsty martini or a blood orange margarita. Tamara ordered a Fangria and accepted the drink from a smiling bartender that showed his fangs. Tamara returned a nervous smile.

“How’s it going, boss?” The bartender asked. “This pretty thing is your meal for tonight?” He nodded towards Tamara as he put her drink on the bar for her.

“This is Tamara,” Erik pulled her closer to him, “She has some questions to ask tonight. I figured I’d bring her along to see if she can get the answers she desires.”

Tamara looked up at Erik with a slight frown.

“Anything, beautiful,” the Indian bartender with long coal black hair looked at her with hungry eyes.

“Do you know anything about these two women,” Tamara retrieved her phone from her clutch, presenting the photos to the bartender, “Or this man here,” She pulled up a photo of Lloyd.

“Yes, to the women, no to the man, though he looks delicious,” said the bartender, smiling at her again, “Is that your husband?”

“No. That’s my brother. I just wanted to know if he’d been around here with any of these women. Have ya’ noticed any men around these women?”

“…that’s something I wouldn’t know,” he replied quickly, his face closing down, “that’s something we don’t notice here. You won’t either. Ain’t that right, boss?”

Tamara looked up at Erik again and he had an expression with practiced control.

“Thank you,” Tamara said politely, realizing she’d broken a rule. It was dangerous to ask who left with whom, evidently, “I appreciate it. Thanks for the drink.”

The bartender looked at Tamara considerably.

“Let me see the girls again,” he pointed at the photo of Dawn’s picture, “that one, she wanted to die.”

Tamara leaned in to speak closer. Erik stood behind her now, both hands on her waist.

“How do ya’ know?”

“Everyone who comes here does, to one extent or another,” he said matter-of-factly. Tamara could tell he took that for granted. “That's what we are. Death.”

He chuckled and Erik joined in on the laugh. Tamara shuddered. Erik’s arm found its way on her arm, drawing her away to a vacated booth. Tamara pulled her arm away from him, clearly irritated, and just then she was blocked by a statuesque woman covered in tattoos and wearing a black lace shawl with bell sleeves, a black corskirt that hugged her curves, and a patent leather black clincher. Her hair was styled similar to those pinup girls from the 40s and her bold red lipstick made her lips look sultry.

“Finally brought your play thing to the establishment. How sweet.”

Tamara arched a brow at Lana and she was ready to say something just as unpleasant but Erik cut her off.

“Lana, this is Tamara. Didn’t get the chance to speak last time with everything that happened.” Erik said.

“I don’t recall wanting to speak to her last time,” Lana cocked her head to the side, challenging Tamara to say anything with her deadly stare.

“Lana,” Erik’s eyes narrowed and his voice went deep, “Do I have to remind you of our discussion earlier?”

Lana’s demeanor changed with one look from Erik and a bright smile replaced her face. She gave Tamara a flirty wave that Tamara didn’t return because she could see that Lana was only playing nice because Erik told her so.

“Can’t return the gesture? Let me find out this sweet little fragile thang ain’t so sweet.” Lana teased.

“I don’t do well with fakes,” Tamara replied.

Lana’s brows rose with humor and her beautiful smile with sharp white fangs didn’t seem to affect Tamara. Erik was losing patients with her disrespect and from the way Erik looked, Tamara didn’t want to stick around to see what he had planned for his progeny.

“Trust, the feeling is mutual.” Lana replied.

Lana strutted away from them to the throne chair that Tamara gathered belonged to Erik. She left Erik standing there and slid into the booth. He joined her and sat across from her, his pitch black eyes scanning the room before they came to a stop on her.

“This is reality, Tammy.” Erik said.

“Do you think I came here with you to die? Because I didn’t,” Tamara argued.

Erik laughed, and if it wasn’t for her anger towards him, she would have folded. The smile and the dimples get her every time.

“What’s so funny? You knew I wasn’t going to get any answers coming here, didn’t you?”

“…And ya’ knew that yourself. Love the determination by the way, nice touch,” Erik smirked.

“You really get on my nerves,” Tamara glared at Erik.

Erik laughed harder, “Not so fast, baby girl. We just had a moment not too long ago. You want me to give ya’ a reminder?”

Tamara kissed her teeth and Erik puckered his lips to mimic their kissing followed by a deep chuckle. Tamara rolled her eyes at his childishness.

“C’mon, fuck those dead women. You know ya’ brother ain’t do that shit. Let’s just enjoy the night.”

“And you, right?” Tamara said.

“And me. We had this discussion two nights ago, baby girl. Finish your drink off so I can get ya’ a new one.”

“So, what is this then? A date? You didn’t even properly ask me on a date to even consider this a date—”

“It’s a way for you to see my world a lot closer. And for the record, princess, I would never bring ya’ here for a date.” Erik quipped.

“I don’t even think you know how to date,” Tamara fired back.

Erik slipped in beside her now, boxing her in. Tamara refused to look at him as best as she could.

“This isn’t the place to take a woman like you on a date. You deserve more than this. Just because I own it, doesn’t mean I like it.”

Tamara stared at Erik confused, “What?”

Erik exhaled frustratingly, “The only reason that I own this bar is because I have to. The vampire government forced me to. They wanted me to come up with a way to welcome humans for entertainment and fun. I’m bored with all of this…”

“Then sell it,” Tamara said, “Have ya’ thought about that?”

“Yes. But I would prefer that the vampire hierarchy not track my every move. This gives them a way to be distracted. Everything that goes on here stays here. That’s the rule. As long as I follow that rule, I’m all good.”

“What constitutes fun for you then?”

Erik’s eyes scanned Tamara’s body. She finished off the rest of her drink, the blossoming warmth of the alcohol spreading through her.

“Going for a long drive, flying, visiting a museum, cooking, reading, dancing…just to name a few…”

Tamara’s icy demeanor melted away. She was interested in knowing more about him besides the fact that he’s an attractive vampire.

Flying?” Tamara asked.

“Yeah,” Erik smirked, “It’s a rush.”

“I–I didn’t know vampires could fly.”

“We can do a lot of things,” Erik said with a half smirk.

“Then why drive?”

“When I’m with a human, I’d prefer to drive. Flying with you looking all pretty would be a disaster.”

Tamara giggled, “How considerate of you. Flying sounds peaceful.”

“I can show ya’ one night. Take you up into the clouds so you can see Louisiana from above.”

Tamara’s hazel eyes went wide with excitement. Erik couldn’t fight the smile that appeared on his face. She’s so adorable.

“I’m scared!” Tamara giggles, “I’ve never even been on a plane.”

“You’ll love it.” Erik took one of Tamara’s hands, staring at her nails.

“You said cook…”

Erik licked his lips, “Yes.”

“Were you a chef?”

“I was a food artisan. My parents had their own shop where we would sell our own items.”

“…so that means you could cook for me?”

“I will cook for you. I can tell ya’ when something is undercooked or overcooked. I could tell ya’ when something is toxic for ya’ to consume. I know what flavors work well together, how to make wine…better than most of these people who call themselves chefs.”

The music was loud and aggressive and it had everyone crowding the dance floor. The pole dancers worked over time to entertain everyone. Bottle girls went around to supply more drinks, and Tamara had a few more herself. She was too shy to ask Erik for a dance. But she could see that he wanted to. Three Six Mafia had the whole club banging.

A fang-banger with a banging body and a perfect weave approached their booth. Tamara was half-hidden by Erik finishing her drink, but still, they’d all seen him enter with her. She was gorgeous, like those models in music videos. She bent across the table with her titties almost popping out to get her mouth about two inches from Erik.

“Hi, dangerous,” She said with a sultry voice. She tapped Erik’s bottled blood with a long acrylic fingernail painted scarlet, “I have the real stuff.” She stroked her neck to make sure he got the point, “Why don’t you come with me so you can have a taste?”

Tamara took a deep breath to control her temper. Erik was her date. She waited to see what he would say and if it was anything other than turning down her advances, Tamara was leaving. She wanted to mush her in the face but she held absolutely still so she wouldn’t give Erik any cues on what she wanted.

“Ya’ don’t see that I’m with someone? Just actin’ all bold coming over here?” Erik said with narrow eyes.

“She doesn't have any puncture marks on her neck,” the girl observed, acknowledging Tamara’s presence finally with an amused look as if Tamara being next to a vampire was a joke. As if she didn’t belong at Crimson Mist.

“Like I said, I’m with her.” Erik said, his voice not so gentle this time. He grabbed Tamara’s hand and rubbed it with his thumb, “I’m sure you’ll find what ya’ want somewhere else.”

“They say you have a big dick to match those big fangs,” She licked her lips.

Tamara gawked at the girl. Erik wasn’t her man but the nerve of this bitch to boldly say that in front of her. Erik chuckled and it irritated Tamara. What the fuck is so funny?

“Don’t matter what you heard. You ain’t gettin’ nothing from me.” Erik said.

“You don’t know what you’re missing,” She sat up, rolling her eyes at Tamara.

“Yes I do,” Erik said.

The girl kissed her teeth and stumbled away.

“You okay?” Erik turned to check on Tamara.

“Yeah.” Tamara looked down at her empty glass.

“Want another drink?” Erik asked.

“Sure.”

Erik didn’t have to get up from his seat. He just raised his arm and a server; a human from what it looked like with bite marks on her neck as well, rushed over. She was hypnotized by Erik’s presence and Erik had to repeat the order to her. She hurried away and Tamara noticed more women looking towards the direction of their booth, even men.

“You haven’t said anything since that chick came over to the table,” Erik said.

“There’s nothing to say,” Tamara replied, with great self-control.

“Why’s that?”

Tamara exhaled, “I shouldn’t have to say anything. You handled it respectfully and that’s all there is to it.”

Erik smirked, “You could have sent her on her way.”

“I’m not the one to get into petty fights with a woman no matter how disrespectful she was. And I wanted to see how you would handle it. I would have been gone if it was the other way around, Erik. You should be happy about that.”

“I am happy. And you’re the only girl I want, Tammy.”

Tamara’s stomach did somersaults.

“Do you want me wit’ you?” Erik asked her in a hushed tone that was similar to a ghostly whisper.

The hard planes of his body pressed into Tamara’s much smaller one, blocking her against the wall of the booth. The dim light above them made his skin glow and his perfect face was close to hers.

“What do you think?” Tamara looked from his lips to his eyes.

“Ma, I’m asking you,” Erik arched a brow, “That vampire over there scanned you twice.”

“You’re teasing me,” Tamara looked towards the direction Erik was focused on.

The vampire he indicated was handsome, in fact, radiant; a faded cut with green eyes, tall and broad shouldered, sepia skin without fault and iridescent. He was wearing boots, jeans, and a vest. He had this vicious look in his eyes and when Tamara looked up at Erik he had the same look but it scared Tamara more.

“His name is Dean,” Erik said.

“How old is he?”

“I’ve known him since the 20s. I’m the oldest vampire in this bar.”

“He looks mean. Why is he glaring at me?”

Erik chuckled, “We’re all mean, Tamara. Very strong and very violent. And he’s glaring because he’s trying to control himself from coming over here and taking you away from me. He knows that won’t happen.”

Dean gave Erik a mischievous smirk and started towards them as if gliding across the floor. Tamara’s breath hitched and Erik didn’t move. Dean took a seat across from Erik and Tamara with a bottle of True Blood in his hand.

“Erik. I expected to see you sitting on your throne.”

“Not tonight. I’m here with this beautiful girl.”

“Hmm, I can see that,” Dean smirked handsomely at Tamara, “What’s your name, gorgeous?”

“Tamara.”

“Ooo, I like that. And you smell,” Dean’s green eyes sparkled with intensity, “Delicious.”

“She’s mine.” Erik snapped.

Dean stared at him with annoyance.

“I didn’t come over here to take her from you, Erik. I know she’s yours. Every vampire in here knows. That’s why none of us came over here to take her ourselves. But I can’t deny a sexy woman when I see one.”

Tamara blushes. She tucked her chin bashfully at Dean’s compliment. He’s definitely a smooth talker. Erik was smoldering. Tamara’s hand on his arm kept him under control.

“I want to ask Dean a question if that’s okay?”

Erik’s jaw clenched, “Go ‘head.”

“Have you seen either of these women in this bar?”

Dean studied the pictures with his thumb grazing his bottom lip. Erik wasn’t going to take his eyes off of Dean. He knew exactly what he was capable of.

“I have been with this one,” Dean said coolly, tapping Dawn’s picture. “She liked pain.”

Dean shot a glance at Erik and there was an unspoken bond there that Tamara was curious about.

“This one here,” he flicked his finger at Maudette’s picture, “was a pathetic creature.”

“Thanks,” Tamara put her phone away.

“Erik, why haven’t you brought your friend around before?” Dean asked.

“Me and Erik are new friends,” Tamara responded with a bright smile to him, seeing that Erik was too irritated to speak.

“Aren’t you so sweet,” Dean observed.

“Not especially,” Tamara said.

Dean stared at her with surprise.

“Well, then maybe you should bring your new friend around more often. If she can handle Crimson Mist, she can handle anything.”

Dean reached for Tamara’s hand and Erik’s hand zipped past her to grab a hold of Dean’s throat. Dean laughed and Erik’s fangs popped out making him look like a true monster. Tamara had a hand pressed to her chest and she was frozen in fear. The speed at which they move will never get old to her. Erik squeezed down on Dean’s neck and slammed him against the table, standing above him. Dean hisses at Erik with his sharp fangs.

“She’s…mine. If ya’ don’t want to lose your head, I suggest you keep your fuckin’ hands to ya’ self.” Erik warned Dean with an animalistic growl.

“Erik…it’s okay, calm down,” Tamara said with a soothing voice.

Erik let go and Dean stood up with a smirk. Tamara was given a full on view of his perfect six pack and the v-cut of his waistline. The table had a crack in it and Dean’s bottle of True Blood was knocked over. Dean dipped his head in farewell at Tamara and glided into the crowd, disappearing from sight. He didn't want to stick around. It seemed as if everyone was immune to violence in Crimson Mist.

“You seem to be telling everyone that I’m yours,” Tamara muttered.

“It’s vampire tradition,” Erik explained again with annoyance, “If I pronounce you mine, no one else can try to feed on you.”

“Feed on me, that’s a delightful phrase,” Tamara said sharply.

“I’m protecting you,” Erik said, his voice not quite as neutral as usual.

“I don’t need—”

She was stopped short. Erik took her by the chin and he turned her head to him. He looked so hard into her eyes that she thought she had tunnels burned into her brain.

“You don’t need protection? Is that what you were gonna say?”

“…I was, but then I thought about how you saved my life. And how this killer is murdering women who associate with vampires in any way.”

“…And you shouldn’t have to worry because I’m going to protect you. No one is going to hurt you, Tammy. I promise that. Do ya’ hear me?”

Tamara exhaled a shaky breath and then nodded her head in response. That wasn’t enough for Erik.

“Words?” Erik said.

“Yes.”

“Good girl.”

Tamara glanced at the people at the bar dancing and drinking and on the verge of hooking up.

“Is that really the only thing on their minds?” Tamara said with a roll of her eyes.

“What are they thinking?” Erik questioned.

“Sex, sex, sex.”

Every single person in that bar had sex on the brain.

“What are you thinking about, Tamara?”

“Not sex.”

“Ya lyin’ to me?” Erik asked with a playful look.

“I was thinking about dancing but I don’t know if I should.”

Erik stood up from the booth and took off his moto jacket. He held out his hand for Tamara to take and she did. He led her out of the booth and to the dance floor. The sea of people parted for them and they found a spot in the middle of the dance floor under red lights.

Rihanna- Work had everyone moving their hips and when Tamara heard her new favorite song it was like liquid adrenaline being injected right into her bloodstream — just enough to make her tingle and start to move her own hips. She wound her hips in a circle, her arms came up and she felt loose and sexy. Erik stood there watching her with commanding eyes and a half smirk that showcased a deep dimple. His skin beneath the lights looked warm to the touch and the contours of his muscular arms had Tamara wishing he would wrap them around her.

While some danced, others stood around watching her move like a temptress with her hands in her hair and her slim-thick body moving with explosive sensuality. Tamara got so lost in the song that she felt as if she were the only one there. She threw her head back and did a little two step, eyes closed and a bite of her bottom lip. When Drake’s verse came up, Tamara placed her hands on her thighs and dipped her hips down to the floor where she did a little slow whine.

Erik came up behind Tamara and held his hand out so he could guide her back up. She threw her head back to get the hair out of her eyes and giggled when she locked eyes with Erik’s intense expression. The song switched to PARTYNEXTDOOR- Wus Good/Curious

Good, lovin, feel so, numb

Ride me, 'til I'm, 'bout to, cum

I see, you are, 'bout to, clim-

-Ax so, oh, girl, don't be, shy

Is you ready?

Is you ready, baby?

You seem ready

You seem ready, baby

Girl tonight I won't be selfish

It is all for you (yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah)

Girl, my bad, I just can't help it (just can't help it)

Girl, you taste so…

Tamara faced Erik and he took her by the hand, twirling her so that her back was against his torso. Tamara could feel the powerfulness of his body against her feeble frame. She went still, allowing him to guide her movements. One of his cool hands came around to rest on her lower belly and he brought her left arm up to drape over his shoulder. He started doing a slow yet rhythmic two step and with the hand on her stomach he guided her to follow his movements.

He pressed his face into her neck and Tamara’s heart pounded with nervous excitement. He exhaled through his mouth and then inhaled deeply through his nose and her eyes fluttered shut. The pressure from his hand forced her bubble butt to press into his crotch. The two step transitioned into Erik grinding on her, forcing Tamara to follow the motion of his hips. His free hand wrapped delicately around her neck, using his finger tips to stroke over her pulse. She felt the crotch of her black lace thong grow wetter.

Hey, shawty, this what I'm here for, I'm ready (I'm ready)

Are you downtown when I'm round town, I'm ready (I'm ready)

Girl, just let me know what's good

Girl, you're beautiful

They won't know, they won't know what we do

Girl, you're beautiful

No, no, they won't know what we do…

The DJ did a dope mix and PARTYNEXTDOOR- Break From Toronto changed the slow motion movements to more of a bend over and pop that ass. Tamara turned to face Erik and she had her arms around his neck and they started grinding their hips against each other. Vibing to the song with smiles on their faces and their foreheads pressed together.

That smile on your face

Makes it easy to trust you

Those in- (yeah), those in- (yeah, oh), those in- (yeah, oh)

This what 'Sauga feel like in the night time (ooh)

Watch what she do when the light shine (ooh)

Drunk niggas tryna talk in the strip club

Shawty silhouette looks like a dollar sign (ooh)

Caught-caught up (caught up)

That's just how a nigga brought up (brought up)

Blow ones for you loonie ass niggas (ass niggas)

Straight bills for you toonie ass niggas (ass niggas)

M-M-My niggas bigger than the bouncer

Roll up in the bitch still smell like an ounce (like a ounce)

Right quick, right quick

Tight jeans on, so she feels my shit, ayy (feel my shit)

Tell me somethin' good, baby

Tell me somethin', tell me somethin' good, shawty (yeah)

Come bring it to the hood, baby

Bring it-bring it back to hood, shawty (ooh, ooh, ooh)

Tamara suddenly becomes bashful and hides her face against Erik’s chest. He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her.

“Why are you acting so shy right now, baby girl?”

“I’ve never done this–dancing on a guy before!”

“C’mere…”

The song changed to something Tamara wasn’t familiar with but it was definitely bounce music. Erik knew the song and he grabbed Tamara by her hips, turning her again and he arched her back. She gasped in shock, one hand on her waist and the other on her shoulder keeping her in that position. It was more of an ass shaking song. Jealous, envious women watched Tamara twerk on Erik, wishing it were them being bent over.

Tamara looked back at him and his lips parted and she could see his fangs. His tongue dragged over the pointy tips, lips looking moist, eyes unblinking and scanning her body dangerously. She flipped her hair over and brought one hand above her head, ass bouncing on his stiffness poking her in the booty. She swayed her hips with each bounce, feeling tipsy and getting lost in the music, mistaking his iron hard dick for a nonexistent belt. Erik held her hand up and let her do her thing, tilting his head to watch the way her ass moved in that cinching dress.

“Damn,” Erik spoke gruffly against her ear,“you got some ass on you, girl…best fuckin’ dancer I’d ever seen.”

Tamara blushes, “Thank you!”

“I ain’t know you could make it move like that, ma!”

“Now you know!” Tamara shouted over the music.

When the song was over, Tamara couldn’t look Erik in the eye. He was all over her. He pulled her into his embrace with a hand on her ass and his other hand smoothing her hair out of her face. He brought his lips to her ear, the hand on her ass now rubbing up and down her back.

“You wanna get outta here?” He whispered in her ear.

She looked up at him with a bat of her lashes. He had a hungry look in his eyes.

“Yeah…” she spoke with a feathery voice.

They had driven back to Tamara’s home already, but Erik had Tamara straddling him in his back seat. They had been kissing for a while now, Erik’s white beater off and the straps to Tamara’s dress hanging from her shoulders. He had her hair in his right fist and his left hand rubbing all over her ass. Tamara combed her fingers through his locs, amazed at how soft his hair is. Heads swiveling from left to right and they couldn’t get enough of each other.

“Erik,” Tamara looked down at him, “I want you too.”

Erik’s onyx eyes blazed with desire. He pulled her in and his lips found hers again. Harder, wetter, and maybe this could lead to even more. Tamara wanted it badly and Erik wanted it more than her. He’d been waiting to have her. Waiting for his moment to make her his. He was so close. She still needed to open up, and Tamara wasn’t an easy girl. He loved that about her.

Tamara broke the kiss again which frustrated Erik.

“I have to go. I didn’t expect to be out this late.”

“Work?”

Tamara nodded her head solemnly.

“Call out,” Erik tilted his head at her with a bite of his lower lip, “For me?”

“I can’t. I picked this shift up.” Tamara whined.

“What shift is it, Tammy?”

“…night.”

Erik kisses his teeth, “Aight, ma. How ‘bout I come see ya’ tomorrow? We can go for a drive…I’m staying here for the weekend to check on my new place…”

Tamara looked at him with confusion, “New place?”

“A smaller home away from home basically. St. Tammany is where I wanna have a private place for myself. I purchased a home right across the cemetery and it’s being fixed up as we speak.”

“Do you have other homes all over the world?” Tamara asked.

“I do…one in Jamaica, Haiti, Cuba, Nigeria, LA, New York, Miami, St. Thomas…”

“Wow.” Tamara was amazed.

“Hm,” Erik chuckled, “I’d like to show you them one day…”

“Tamara climbed off of Erik’s lap and sat next to him. He refused to let her open her own door. He left the car and jogged around to open the door for her, holding his hand out for her to take. Erik picked her up and twirled her around again before placing her on her feet.

“Goodnight, Tammy,” Erik whispered before giving her one last kiss.

Tamara stood on her tip toes and rested her cheek against his for a moment.

“Thanks for taking me.”

Erik grabbed her hand, swinging it as they walked up to the house. Within the porch, Tamara opened her door while Erik waited for her to make it inside. She looked back at him over her shoulder and waved, Erik returning the gesture. Tamara closed her door and pressed her back against it.

Meanwhile, Erik was driving to his nearly finished home. It was an Acadian style home which is a true representation of the Louisiana style homes. Influenced by French and Canadian styles, these houses feature steeply pitched roofs with dormer windows, and large covered porches or galleries, often wrapping around the house. Acadian homes often have raised foundations to help protect from flooding, and the exteriors have shutters and decorative brackets. Interiors often have high ceilings with exposed wood beams, and are designed for open, airy living in the hot and humid Louisiana climate.

The interior is old world gothic and Victorian while his other home is more minimalist with steel. He had a new coffin for Lana and himself installed in the basement while the rooms had beds with automatic windows that were timed to open during nightfall. Truthfully, Erik purchased this home secretly to be away from the other vampires and Tia. He wanted to spend time with Tamara as much as he could without everyone knowing where he was. Lana much preferred the other home, so Erik would only spend time there if work was needed to be done.

He walked around the luxury double-staircase foyer with optimism, the polished maple hardwood beneath his feet causing his footsteps to sound more pronounced. Deep purple, black, and gray decorated the first level. Each of the five bed rooms has its own complimentary color such as maroon, and navy blue but black will always be the main scheme. He had a feeling Tamara didn’t like his home back in New Orleans because it held a memory she didn’t want to recall. They could make new memories here.

Erik took a seat on a black sofa throne chair in solid mahogany wood, Crystal tufting, and a gloss black finish. His black fireplace was handcrafted to look like skulls giving it a more haunting look. He reminisced about the evening, unable to stop himself from smiling. Tamara looked stunning. He loved when she dressed up. He couldn’t get over how beautiful her hair is. She looked amazing. Dancing with her made him feel alive again. Kissing her made him fall in love with the act all over again. As much as he wanted to make love to her, he will be patient.

Erik wanted the time to be right for her. She’s a virgin and that made it harder for Erik to give into his urges. He’ll have plenty of time to fuck her, but first he needed to take things slow and ease her into what sex with him will be like. Erik stood up to head up the stairs to the master bedroom. When he entered the room decorated in black and gold, Erik activated the automatic windows all over the home and undressed. Naked, he climbed in bed beneath the silk black sheets and stared up at the high ceiling.

Erik shut his eyes and a sensation overcame him. Eyes remaining closed, Erik could sense Tamara dreaming. It was like a deep psychological bond and he could feel it growing stronger. Since Tamara drank his blood the night he saved her life, it created an eternal bond/spirit union between them. He can feel the strong sexual and romantic energy, and it was difficult for him not to go to her and fulfill what she truly desires.

He couldn’t see exactly what she was dreaming about, and he desperately wished he could. She was in distress, tossing and turning, unable to peacefully sleep because of the nature of her sex dreams.

Mmmmmahhhhunh…

Erik’s eyes shot open.

Was this really a dream or…

Erik…Erik…Erik…

He sat up, silk sheets pooling around his toned hips.

Erik rolled his neck. Every muscle in his body flexed.

Yes…right there…don’t stop…please…

He couldn’t take it.

Erik was out of his bed and with only his jeans on, he sped out of the house and across the cemetery to Tamara’s.

Back at Tamara’s, within her bedroom, evening air trickling in, Tamara is dressed in a white babydoll lingerie nightgown, her curls resting on top of her head with a satin scrunchie. The cotton sheets are kicked to the foot of the bed, her legs spread open and one hand between her legs, rubbing her clit. Hard nipples pointed to the ceiling, Tamara has her eyes closed, envisioning her vampire between her legs devouring her. The way he moved his tongue over hers when they kissed let her know that he knew how to use it well.

“Fuck,” Tamara moaned softly.

She brought two fingers down to her entrance and sank them deeply inside. She couldn’t believe how wet she was. Tamara sat up on one elbow, knees to her chest, toes curled, and bottom lip between her teeth.

Visions of his black eyes staring up at her from between her legs has her walls quivering.

“Eat me…taste me…”

She felt her body begin to tense up. Tamara’s mouth dropped open and she came all over her fingers unexpectedly. She needed more. That was her second orgasm and she knew she could give more.

“I can’t stop…” she moaned.

This is the most she’d ever masturbated.

“I’m so wet for you…”

Just when she was about to attack her clit with her fingers again, she could hear a sound at her window. Sitting up, Tamara fixed her nightgown and climbed down from her bed. Opening her curtains, she jumped back in shock at Erik looking up at her. He’d been throwing broken branches at her window.

“Erik?”

“Can I come up?” He asked.

Tamara looked from left to right before her eyes fell on him again.

“Yes. I’ll get the door—”

Erik had scaled the wall and crawled into the room.

Tamara was stunned.

“How did you?—”

Erik put a finger to her lips. He looked down at her through the curtain of locs against his forehead. Tamara noticed that he wasn’t wearing any shoes and he was shirtless. Erik inhaled and he followed the scent to Tamara’s fingers.

“Erik?—”

He grabbed her hand and sucked on her fingers. Tamara’s breath hitched. He sucked hard, Tamara growing weak in the knees.

“You taste…so good…”

He opened his eyes and Tamara could see a red ring around his pitch black irises.

Tamara looked up at Erik confused.

“I could hear you…playing with yourself.”

She opened her mouth but no words came out. Tamara looked away from him, embarrassed to even meet his piercing gaze.

“How? Were you standing outside my window the entire time?” She asked with a timid voice.

“Nah,” Erik touched her cheek, “Remember the night I saved your life?”

“Yes,” Tamara leaned into his touch.

“You drank my blood. When you do that, it creates a bond between the vampire and the human. It’s similar to the bond of a maker and progeny but the only difference is I can’t call on you.”

“Really?” Tamara was shocked, “So that means…”

“Yes,” Erik smirked, “I know you’ve been dreaming about me. At least up until now…”

Tamara sat down on her bed and Erik sat next to her.

“You were pleasuring yourself.” Erik said.

Tamara toyed with the lace trimming on her nightgown.

“I was,” She shot him a quick glance before looking back down, “This is so embarrassing.”

Erik scooted closer, lifting her chin.

“Tell me about your fantasy. Please?”

Tamara looked him in the eyes and exhaled.

“I was…fantasizing about you…between my legs…”

Her natural pheromones smelled so good it triggered his fangs to pop out. Tamara flinched slightly but soon she reached out to touch one of his fangs.

“Tamara,” Erik grabbed her hand, “Can I watch you?”

“W—watch me?” She felt her face heat up.

“I’ll sit right here and watch you touch yourself.”

After an internal struggle, she slowly laid back and nervously looked up at Erik.

“I can’t sleep when you keep moaning in my ear.” Erik said.

Tamara fixed the straps to her nightgown and one shaky hand came down to lift her nightgown. He couldn’t see her pussy when she dropped her legs open, but he could see the wetness she created in her white panties. She turned her head away from Erik, eyes closed while her fingers rubbed slow circles around her clit.

Erik sat there with his fists clenched, eyes low and his mouth watering to taste her. He’d never wanted a pussy in his mouth this bad since his wife. She smelled out of this word. A pleasant floral scent wafted from her skin and she smelled like honey in between. She whimpered, refusing to moan, and it frustrated Erik. He could see her hand moving rapidly. And Erik could hear how gushy and wet she was.

“Fuck, Tamara, you sound so sexy…it’s okay to moan…it’s just me and you in here…you look so beautiful…”

She turned her head towards him finally. The tops of her breasts were teasing his eyes. She was pleasantly horny and being such a naughty girl. She licked her lips at him and that pretty mouth fell open.

“That pussy is so wet…how do you want me to eat that pussy, baby?”

“I…”

Her legs shook and Erik grunted.

“That was my third orgasm.” Tamara giggled into her pillow.

“Take your panties off.”

Tamara sat up and slipped her panties off.

“Give them to me.”

She slid them over to Erik and he snatched them up, smelling the soaked crotch of her panties. She watched him, aroused at how much he loved her smell. He placed them within the pocket of his jeans and looked over at her. Tamara gained enough confidence to place her fingers against his lips. Erik licked them while his eyes were locked on hers.

“Tamara…”

She tilted her head at him. Erik’s cold hand reached out to stroke the gold anklet on her left ankle.

“What does the E stand for?”

“It’s for my middle name. Elicia.”

“That’s pretty,” His fingers dragged up the back of her calf, “pretty just like you…”

“Erik?”

“Just say the word, Tamara, and I’ll taste you. I’ll eat you and make you cum…”

She stared at him with desperation. Erik waited, his eyes searching hers.

“Yes,” She whispered.

Say less. Erik had her on her back in top speed. He climbed on top of her and kissed her deeply, passionately, hungrily. Tamara raked her fingers through his locs, pulling on them whenever Erik would tongue her down. He used his fingers to gently pull the straps of her nightgown down one by one, revealing her c cup breasts with perfectly round areolas and small nipples. He studied them closely — every blemish, freckle, and mole.

“Beautiful,” Erik looked at her, “You’re beautiful, Tammy.”

He let her hair down and continued to trail his kisses down her neck. Tamara moaned softly, thrusting her chest up. Erik kisses down the side of her neck, over her jawline, between her breasts and then each nipple. Tamara cupped the back of his head when he finally wrapped his lips around a nipple. Her head went back and she whimpered repeatedly.

The pounding of her heart was deafening. Erik couldn’t stop it if he could. The veins in her breasts aided in the hardening of her nipples against his tongue. He imagined the taste of her blood on her breasts. The constant cries and whimpers had his dick so hard. Erik popped a nipple out of his mouth and Tamara looked down at him.

“Why did you stop?” She fussed between breaths.

“I want you to take this dress off…please?”

Erik wasn’t used to saying please.

“Okay,” Tamara sat up, breasts mouthwatering.

She lifted the nightgown over her head and sat it on the bed next to her. Erik’s eyes dragged down her body. She had the softest most delicate skin. The most beautiful brown skin. Erik could see the top of her pussy and it was completely hairless. Smooth like satin.

“Lay back for me, baby girl.”

Tamara made herself comfortable on her elbows. Erik was kneeling above her with her legs pressed together.

“I’m nervous,” Tamara admitted.

Erik kisses both of her knees to relax her.

“There’s nothing to be nervous about. Open up for me, Tammy.”

She chewed on her bottom lip before spreading her thighs slowly. He could see her legs trembling. The more she opened her legs, the stronger the smell of her sex. It took all of his supernatural strength to hold back from forcing her legs open and pinning them back at the ankles with brunt force. He had to remind himself that she is inexperienced with this. He had to ease her into the pleasures.

When her legs finally fell open, Erik let out a deep groan. It was possible to have the most perfect pussy. Fat, juicy, and a work of art that needed to be a canvas painting in his room. The wishbone shape of her inner folds were engorged with her arousal and he could literally see the remnants of cum leaking from her tight opening. He could kiss this pussy all night long. He needed all that pink in his mouth right now.

“Mmm…mmm…mmm.”

Erik dipped his head between her legs and started kissing her outer lips. She watched him with curiosity, sweet moans filling the room. He resurfaced, looking up at her with deep desire.

“Thank you for giving me the honor to eat this beautiful pussy.” Erik said.

He used his entire mouth and began sucking. She’d never felt this before. It was intense. He sucked everywhere. She sat there on her elbows watching him with timid eyes and parted lips. Whenever he would suck on her clit, Tamara would whimper with a tremble of her inner thighs. His tongue flicked and dragged all over her pussy, loving the way it tasted.

“Please don’t stop,” Tamara whispered.

She placed one hand on the back of his head when he was back on her clit again. Tamara was startled by Erik tapping her wet entrance with his finger. She sounded like a puddle down there.

“Erik,” Tamara thrust her hips, tilting her pussy into his mouth further. He stopped sucking her clit to look at her.

“Whatchu want?” Erik asked.

Tamara looked anywhere but at him, “I want you to finger me…”

He really wanted to stuff her with some big dick.

“You gotta look at me and ask, Tammy.”

She looked at him, “I want you to finger me.”

“I’ll give you whatever you want.”

With his middle finger, he took his time sinking in. She instantly clamped down on his finger. When Erik went to pull his finger back before pushing it back in, her walls were acting like a suction. He could only imagine how that would feel on his dick. Mmm.

“You’re so tight, baby…”

He couldn’t believe how wet and tight she was. He tried adding his ring finger and Tamara hissed.

“Did I hurt you?”

“Your fingers are thicker than mine.”

“I’ll go slower.”

She relaxed as best as she could. Erik needed to add another finger. The more she opened up, the easier it would be to fit his dick in. He’s girthy with length and a fat tip to match. Too much for Tamara to handle right now.

“Tammy…you gotta keep your legs open and out of the way.”

Or I’ll do it for you

“I can’t help it–oh my goddess—”

He had two fingers knuckle deep. Erik wasted no time pumping. He kissed along her inner thighs and watched her face. She had her eyes closed and her head thrown back. Her breasts were bouncing and her hair was frizzy and wild. She was mesmerizing.

“You are making a big fuckin’ mess on my fingers, baby…look at this pretty pussy.”

Tamara watched Erik finger her. In and out, in and out, she moaned his name and all over his hand she came. Erik savagely licked his hand and the cum from her pussy. Sitting up, Erik with his speed pinned her legs back. He smirked down at her before going in to eat her again.

“Erik,” Tamara moaned.

She didn’t want him to stop. He had her clit between his lips again and she could feel herself getting close again. His primal eyes were locked on her hazel eyes and it was the most erotic experience. He even did it when he flicked his tongue over her clit at top speed. It felt like a vibrator. She stared at him with tears of pleasure rolling down her cheeks and a strangled moan escaping her mouth. Her toes flexed towards the ceiling and she began to convulse. Her struggling moans were music to his ears.

He stuck his tongue so far up her pussy, he sucked her up everywhere, he licked and licked until he covered every inch of that pussy. His fingers went deep and he sucked them dry just to do it again. His princess was famished. Erik looked at her with his lips dripping with her cum and what would make this even better is if he could only bite into her.

Sleep overcame her within seconds and Erik watched her sleep for an hour before he covered her with her blanket and kissed her cheek. She had enough for one night and needed her rest. He fixed his erection and patted his back pocket to make sure her panties were still there. He didn’t want to leave her, but he needed to get some sleep himself. The day was approaching and he began to feel weak.

Erik climbed out of the window and jumped down, landing on his feet. With one final look up at her window, he sped off into the night and back to his new home.

Nana Sylvia was sitting in the living room the following afternoon, her stories on the TV and a fresh glass of homemade lavender lemonade in her hand. She had one elbow propped up on the back of the couch, watching Tamara pounce around the house like she was on cloud 9. Now, she’s dressed for her shift, same heavenly smile on her face.

“You’ve been in a really great mood, Sugar. The date was lovely?”

Tamara took a seat next to her grandmother for a second so she could enjoy a glass of lavender lemonade herself.

“It was great, Nana. I had a lovely time.”

Tamara smiled into her glass.

“I hope he’ll still talk to The Descendants next Friday evening about The Revolt.”

Tamara forgot to confirm that with him last night. She was so distracted with the kissing and the head…

“He’s stopping by Marco’s tonight. I’ll ask him then, okay?”

“Thank you, baby,” Nana Sylvia shut the TV off and stood up, “Let me gon’ on and get myself together. A friend of mine is taking me to the farmer’s market in about an hour.”

“I should get going too.”

Tamara grabbed both glasses and washed them while Nana Sylvia went to freshen up. She twirled the sponge inside one of the glasses, staring into space. She kept replaying last night’s events. She kept repeating the way Erik ate her pussy and fingered her. Despite the blush on her face, her legs are weak and her pussy is sore. She took a soothing bath and it helped a little. If this is what it felt like after fingering, she couldn’t imagine the discomfort when they finally have sex.

She quickly rinsed the glasses out and sat them upside down in the dish rack, drying her hands off on her shorts before grabbing her work bag and leaving the house. It was almost 3 in the afternoon and she had to hurry so she wouldn’t be late. In her beat up car, she started it up and drove off. Her eyes combed the trees across the cemetery to see if she could make out his new home but the trees were so overgrown it acted like a wall blocking it from view.

For an afternoon, Marco’s Bar and Grill was surprisingly busy. Tamara parked in her usual spot near the back door and slipped inside after Terry came out to empty trash. The country music filled her ears as Tamara combed through a pile of clean aprons, folding one in half before tying it around her slender waist. She moved carefully to the front of the house and clocked in, looking up to find Tara at the beer tap filling a glass for Detective Bellefleur.

“This is your third beer, Andy. Aren’t you on duty?”

Andy mumbled something before walking away back to his seat.

“Fuckin’ drunk red neck—Tammy!”

Tara squeezed Tamara tight.

“Bitch, I thought you were off today?”

Tamar grabbed a note pad and pin from a basket.

“I was. But since everything with Dawn and the new girl’s availability, Marco asked if I could work tonight.”

“How ya grandmama and dem’?”

“All is good with Nana. Lloyd I hadn’t seen in almost two days. The police won’t leave him alone.”

“I’m guessin’ that’s why Andy is sticking ‘round. They've been questioning a lot of men in this area. I just think Andy has it out for Lloyd.”

“How ya’ figure?” Tamara questioned.

“He’s envious. Lloyd is handsome, in shape, and a pussy magnet. Andy is the opposite of that.”

“Well, if that’s the reason then Andy can go fuck himself. Can’t control being ugly and unwanted.”

Tara laughed boisterously.

“What side does Arlene have?”

“She’s taking care of this area.”

Tamara walked over to her side around near the pool table and locked eyes with Marco chatting it up with a regular. Marco’s chocolate brown eyes locked with hers and he winked at her. He’s wearing a flannel with the sleeves rolled up and a white T-shirt underneath, faded light blue jeans, and his lucky pair of cowboy boots. His usually low cut with waves had grown out some and it’s sprinkled with gray hair to match his stubble.

Tamara walked up to an older woman she recognized but didn’t remember her name. She’s one of Nana's friends. Tamara took her order and walked around to the other tables to see if anyone needed anything. Back at the bar, Tamara went to the server’s window and called off orders to the cooks. She blew a kiss to Lafayette and took her place next to Tara with her drink tray ready.

“This is gonna be a long night,” Tamara fussed.

Tara noticed how she kept checking her phone and fidgeting like she was growing impatient. It was bothering Tara so much that she had to stop what she was doing to call Tamara out on it.

“Girl, what the hell is wrong wit’ you?!”

“I’m sorry,” Tamara smiled, “I just can’t wait to see him.”

“That vampire?” Tara asked with disgust.

“Don’t do that, Tara. I really like him…”

Tamara never felt so giddy.

“What do you like about him?”

Tamara couldn’t contain her blushing.

“He protects me, he’s an amazing kisser, he can dance and I love to dance. He’s smart, charming, strong…among other things.”

Tamara giggled at Tara’s expression.

“Bitch…you let him hit?”

“No–no. Not yet at least,” Tamara looked around before getting closer to Tara, “he went down on me.”

“What?!” Tara shouted.

Eyes fell on them and Tamara had to shush her.

“What? Tamara Elicia Bordelon!”

She couldn’t stop laughing.

“I can’t believe…” Tara raised her brows, “You nasty girl…”

“I’m still not over it. Tara…it was amazing.”

Tamara leaned against the counter and closed her eyes with contentment.

“I can’t wait to see him,” Tamara said with an angelic voice.

“Why don’t you snap out of it and take these drinks. You don’t want Marco thinkin’ something is wrong. This conversation ain’t over, Tammy!”

Tamara took her drink tray and went back to work. After clearing her tray, she slipped past Detective Bellefleur’s table.

“Tammy! I need a word with ya!”

Tamara stopped and looked at him with annoyance.

“Whatever you want to discuss can wait until I’m finished working.” Tamara sassed.

“Where has that brother of yours been? Out getting himself into trouble?”

Tamara sat her tray on the table and leaned in to Andy.

“Did you just interrogate me while I’m at work and you’re off duty?”

Andy’s pudgy face went red with anger.

“Let’s get one thing straight, Andy. My brother didn’t do this—”

“And that vampire?” He argued.

“AND Erik. Did you go to other people’s jobs and question them or did they come down to the station?”

“I offered for ya’ to come to the station—”

“And I’ve been busy. Still doesn’t give ya’ the right to ask me questions for everyone to hear.”

“When I’m detective it does!” Andy fired back.

(This freak and her vampire know something I can feel it)

(She’s so defensive. I bet she knows her brother is guilty and she’s covering for him)

(Ever since that vampire came to St. Tammany there’s been nothing but murders)

(Wouldn’t be surprised if she ends up dead next)

Tamara stormed off and bumped past Marco accidentally to get to his office. She slammed the door shut and the bar seemed to go still after that.

“Nothin’ to see here!” Marco yelled.

Tara rushed from behind the bar and she was making a beeline for Andy.

“You son of a bitch! How dare you—”

“Tara….calm down, go back to the bar. I’ll handle this.”

Tara’s chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. She looked at Marco and then back at Andy before going to comfort Tamara.

“Andy. What the hell did you do to my waitress?”

Andy gave a nonchalant shrug in response.

“You’re cut off. No more beer. It’s time for you to go.”

“You can’t throw me out! I’m the law!”

Andy slammed his beefy fist down on the table. The kitchen doors swung open and Lafayette and Andy’s cousin, Terry, came over to the table.

“Andy, c’mon cuz. You gotta go. I already called Auntie. She knows you’re coming.”

“This is some bullshit,” Andy stood up and pulled out his wallet, slapping down two crumpled up bills, “Fuck all of you!”

Marco, Lafayette, and Terry watched Andy storm out of the bar.

“Let me go see how Tamara’s doing.”

Marco walked to the back and when he approached his office door, he knocked twice and waited. He could hear shuffling and then Tara opened the door with a hand on her hip.

“Is his drunk ass gone?” She asked.

“Yeah,” Marco slipped past Tara, “Tammy?”

Tamara was lying on his leather brown sofa with her knees to her chest. Tara left them alone and shut the door. Marco sat next to her and started stroking her arm with his hand.

“It’s gonna be alright. He’s gone now.”

“I could hear everyone else’s thoughts…”

She sat up, rubbing her eyes. He could tell she’d been crying.

“Andy pissed me off so bad that I let my guard down. People really think Lloyd is responsible. They’re calling him a murderer. They think Erik put a curse on the town.”

“Tammy, you can’t let these people get to you. All they do is talk, talk, talk. Nothin’ else better to do.”

Marco took his thumb to wipe away her tears. He studied her beautiful face with longing and his eyes fell to her lips. He desperately wanted to kiss her.

“I am worried about ya’. I wouldn’t forgive myself if anything happened to ya’”

Tamara gave Marco a gentle smile before hugging him. Marco slowly wrapped his arms around her. He pressed his nose into her mane and inhaled. Hibiscus and coconut. It was lovely.

“Thanks for always checking in on me—”

Marco pressed his lips against Tamara’s soft lips. The sound of their lips smacking when he broke the kiss to look at her had his stomach fluttering. Tamara stared at him with shock, unsure of what to say at that moment.

“Say something, Tammy.”

She turned away from Marco and stood up. Marco followed her and waited for her to speak.

“Why—why did you kiss me?” She questioned.

“Because I love you, Tammy—”

“I’m Erik’s.”

Marco closed his eyes.

“This never happened, okay?”

Tamara rushed out of the office and Marco kicked the side of his desk angrily.

Tamara paced back and forth outside of his office door. She couldn’t believe her boss just kissed her. And he loves her? She took a deep breath in and held it for three seconds before walking back out to the front. When she got there, Tara was at the bar mixing drinks and there stood Luke with his tall, brawny frame. He was wearing a distressed muscle tee and denim cut offs with his work boots on his feet. His tawny skin was covered in sweat and he had his cap on backwards, the Bordelon fishing logo printed on it.

“Hey, Tammy,” He smiled at her, “How’s everything?”

Tamara returned the smile and nodded her head that everything is good.

“Marco had to get Andy out of here. He was being real disrespectful questioning Tammy about Lloyd. Where is Lloyd anyway?”

“He’s laid up with some chick. I covered for him today at the dock. I’m ‘bout to go cook up some crawfish for my mama and dem.”

Tamara was too distracted to even pay attention. Marco walked out and he glanced over at her with sad eyes before entering the kitchen.

“Tammy?” Luke called out to her.

“Yeah—sorry–I gotta get back to work. Good seeing ya’ Luke.”

“Hey,” Luke grabbed her hand gently, “Don’t forget about lookin’ into a new car. I spotted your car out back and we really should get ya’ a new one.”

“Shit, I forgot all about that—I’ll let you know.”

She squeezed Luke’s hand affectionately and walked off.

“You got it bad Luke,” Tara teased.

“And what about you and Lloyd?” Luke asked.

“We ain’t talkin’ ‘bout me and Lloyd!”

“Mhm,” Luke took a seat at the bar. He grabbed the neck of his bottle of Bayou Peche IPA and took a swig while his eyes never left Tamara, “I’d like to take her out sometime. Wine and dine her. Spoil her.”

“Not if your mama can help it,” Tara laughed.

“Ain’t my mama business.”

Tara shakes her head and walks away to the other end of the bar to make drinks.

As the day turned into night, the bar became overwhelmingly busy. Lloyd showed up with Luke and a couple of their friends. Tamara noticed a pretty girl clinging to Lloyd’s arm and Tamara had never seen this girl around before. She’s 5’5, brown skin, sandy brown hair styled in a sleek bun, and a tight lime green dress hugging her curves. She was covered in tattoos and piercings and had this commanding energy about her. Tara spotted Lloyd and when her eyes fell on the girl she rolled her eyes and went back to yelling at some drunk man.

“I’ll be out with your hamburger and fries,” Tamara rushed over to the servers window, “Hamburger with Cajun fries!”

“Coming!” Lafayette shouted.

The doors opened up and Tamara turned around just in time to see Erik strolling in. He wore a black muscle tee with a graphic of Billie Holiday on it. He had on gray denim joggers and on his feet gray and black Jordan’s. He accessorized with his favorite tungsten jewelry and added multilayered leather bracelets to his wrists. He stood there, staring Tamara up and down before curling a finger for her to come to him. She walked up to him and Erik tilted her chin up before leaning down to kiss her.

Everyone in that bar watched him tongue her down. Tara had to remake a beer because she had overflowed it. Lloyd and Luke watched with disapproval. Marco was furious. And the other patrons whispered. Tamara refused to let her shields down.

“That was unexpected,” she whispered.

Erik smirked, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Tamara tucked her chin and batted her lashes bashfully.

Erik grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips to kiss. Tamara’s lips parted and she felt her eyes glaze over with desire.

“I’ll be waiting for you.”

Tamara slipped her hand out of Erik’s and he tapped her on the booty with a bite of his lip for good measure. As he walked with his sinful gait, his onyx eyes scanned the bar. People seemed to cower beneath his gaze, some were in a trance, others were angry with his presence. Erik didn’t give a fuck about any of it. He flopped down in a vacant booth seat with his legs swinging and his arms draped over the back of the seat. Tamara brought him out a chilled bottle of O negative and placed it in front of him.

“Figured you might be thirsty,” She smiled at him.

Erik sat up and with his hand he snaked it up the back of her leg and over her ass. Tamara rocked back and forth with a big smile.

“Thank you, princess.”

“You’re welcome. Hey, I meant to ask. Would you still be able to talk to The Descendants at the church next Friday evening? Nana wanted me to ask.”

“Of course.” Erik opened his True Blood.

“Okay,” Tamara lingered, “I’ll be back to check on you.”

Erik chuckled.

“I’m not goin’ anywhere, baby. Go ahead.”

Tamara turned to leave with a pout. She made it back to the bar and locked eyes with Tara who was giving her a ‘we need to talk’ look. The doors opened with a hard shove and in walked the three vampires Tamara dreaded ever seeing again.

Diane, Bruce, and Woo.

They walked in like they owned the place. Tamara glanced over at Erik nervously and he was already looking at her. All three vampires made their way over to Erik and made themselves comfortable. Tamara gathered courage and strolled over to the table. Erik’s eyes shot up at her and he didn’t look happy about her coming up to the table.

“If it isn’t the pretty little human!” Diane laughed, “So, this is where you work? How adorable.”

Bruce and Woo laughed.

“Can I get ya’ anything?” Tamara asked, clicking her pen.

“Already got our meals covered, darling. But thanks for being so sweet.” Bruce said.

“Erik,” Diane reached out to stroke his hand, “We’ve been looking for you. Wanna get out of here and have some fun like the old days?”

“Got a real treat for you back at Tia’s,” Woo said.

“Why do I get the feeling this isn’t a request?” Erik said.

Tamara could sense something was off.

“Nothing suspicious going on! We just miss you,” Diane drapes her long leg over Erik and licks the side of his face, “Why don’t you come and play with us?”

Tamara squeezed her notepad hard. She glared at Diane for the audacity.

“Get your leg off of him.” Tamara spoke with rage.

Woo and Bruce exchanged looks.

“Excuse me?” Diane turned and looked at Tamara as if she lost her mind, “What the fuck did you say to me?”

“Back off, Diane,” Erik warned.

Diane looked from Tamara to Erik and laughed.

“Aww. You two are together?! How cute!”

Tamara’s eyes twitched. She looked at Erik who was just sitting there allowing Diane to throw herself all over him. What was he doing?

“Erik?” Tamara folded her arms.

“Why don’t you get back to waiting tables, honey.”

“There’s a stain on that one there,” Bruce pointed to the table behind her.

Tamara didn’t hide the hurt in her eyes. Erik clenched his jaw and held her gaze.

“Why don’t we go pay Tia a little visit.” Diane whispered to Erik, “She’d be happy to know you’re doing just fine with your little obsession.”

Tamara stood confused. The name Tia stood out to her. She locked eyes with Erik again to see if he would speak but to her disappointment, he remained silent. What was he so afraid of? He’s older and stronger than all three of them. He could take them all out with a snap of his fingers.

“Erik, what’s going on?” Tamara asked.

“Go back to work, Tammy.” Erik replied with a stern voice.

Diane, Bruce, and Woo slid out of the booth, looking down on Tamara. Erik stood up and Diane wrapped an arm around his waist. Tamara glared at him and Diane cocked her head to the side, studying Tamara’s face with amusement.

“It’s okay, little human chick, he’ll only be gone a little while.”

Diane’s hand strokes Tamara’s cheek and she slapped her hand away causing Diane to grip her wrist. Erik grabbed Diane by the back of her neck and flung her across the room where she landed on her back hard. Lloyd, Luke, and Marco had pool sticks in their hands, making their way over to them. Bruce and Woo turned on Erik, crouching down in an attack stance with their fangs. Diane moved with accelerated speed and snatched Tamara up by her hair.

She screamed, gaining Erik’s attention who tried rushing to her aid but Bruce body slammed him on the table, breaking it in the process. Erik expertly reversed so that he was on top of Bruce and he lifted Bruce up by his neck with a sharp piece of broken wood to his chest, ready to strike. Woo tried to lunge at Erik but Erik was too swift, knocking Woo back so hard he slid to the other side of the bar. Erik stabbed Bruce in the chest which was enough to wound him and back hand slapped Diane so hard blood splattered.

“Hey! Back off my sister, fanger!” Lloyd shouted with rage.

“I think it’s time for y’all to leave!” Marco yelled.

The vampire trio looked at the sticks in their hands and laughed.

“You can’t be serious? You pathetic humans! What the fuck is a pool stick gonna do—”

“Wanna find out?” Luke said.

All at once, everyone got up and scurried to the front. Lloyd pulled out his gun and pointed it at Woo’s head.

“I’ll put a bullet in your fucking head!” Lloyd shouted.

“Just leave, we don’t want no trouble, Tammy,” Marco motioned for her to come to him, “C’mere.”

She took one step and Erik gripped her wrist. Tamara tried to pull her arm back. Lloyd turned his gun on Erik.

“Let go of me!” Tamara screamed.

Erik looked at her with a mixture of confusion and anger.

“Tammy!” He yelled.

“GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF HER!”

Lloyd pulled the trigger and Erik was swift on his feet in a blink of an eye, snatching up Lloyd’s gun. His fangs popped out and he was chest to chest with Lloyd, eyes wild and menacing.

“Stop it, Erik!” Tamara shouted with tears in her eyes.

“You stay the fuck away from her or it’s war,” Lloyd growled.

Erik smirked dangerously at him.

“She’s mine.”

“This is fun,” Diane said with a vicious smirk.

“She don’t belong to you,” Luke grabbed Tamara’s hand.

“Get the fuck out! All of ya’!!!!”

Erik held his hand out for Tamara to take and she refused to go with him.

“I don’t want anything to do with you,” Tamara spoke with a tremble in her voice.

“This is getting boring. You coming or not, Stevens?” Woo said while inspecting his nails. Bruce wasn’t too happy about Erik still tagging along after being stabbed.

“I was hoping for more blood to shed! I could use some fresh blood,” Diane spoke excitedly.

“Just go,” Tamara wiped her tears away. “Fucking go!”

Erik backed away towards the door and Diane, Bruce, and Woo were right behind him. They dashed at lightning speed out of the bar and Tamara broke down.

“Tammy,” Lloyd wrapped his arms around his sister, “It’s okay…you’re safe.”

“That was some scary shit,” Luke had a hand to his chest.

“He showed his true colors. How could he put her in danger like that?” Marco said.

“Because he’s a vampire. They don’t have feelings. All they know is to kill. It was only a matter of time before he tried to attack Tammy.”

Tamara shoved away from Lloyd and ran to the back of the bar. She grabbed her things in a rush, so ready to get out of there and away from everyone. She couldn’t understand why Erik would disrespect her like that? Embarrass her in front of everyone?

“Hey, Tammy,” Tara and Lafayette wrapped their arms around her, “Shhh, it’s okay, girl. I’m so sorry.”

“I just need to get out of here.”

“I’ll take her home.”

Lloyd and Luke walked up with Marco trailing behind.

“I can drive.” Tamara argued.

“Not that piece of shit. I’m takin ya’ back to Nana’s. Let’s go.”

Luke grabbed her things and walked out behind Lloyd. Marco rubbed her back before watching her walk out of the bar. Luke helped her in the back seat and she laid down with tears streaming down her face. Just when everything was going so well. Maybe it was for the best.

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