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#just so nobody thinks i’ve disappeared
heyclickadee · 5 months
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Okay, speaking of Cid…this is probably not significant but it is there and I just noticed it, so I’m going to point it out:
When the gang first meets Cid, she’s wearing this big chunky necklace:
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And she’s wearing it every time we see her after that…
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…until she gets ousted by Roland in “Infested.”
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And she gets her parlor (and presumably her business, but maybe not) by the end of that episode, but we never see her wearing that necklace again.
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And I kind of want to know why. As in, maybe she was the head of a larger smuggling ring, and that necklace was the symbol for being the head of that smuggling ring, but when she got ousted by Roland she got ousted from that smuggling ring, too, and didn’t get her position in the ring back when she got her parlor back. Maybe not that, specifically, but something like that, or maybe it’s a family thing, or something. Maybe. Anyway, the production team consistently put it there and then suddenly but consistently had it not be there anymore with “Infested,” and I want to know if there’s a reason why.
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iceicewifey · 1 year
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nullians · 2 years
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The thing is that I can only be a part of a past-peak fandom. My voice/art is noticed usually only when the most popular people are not around making content anymore, or when their presence stops overwhelming me enough to let me create something. Ultimately it results in me always feeling like I’m falling behind, that people move on without me and it’s quite a specific kind of loneliness to know that your paths have crossed but that it didn’t mean anything in the end. Ships passing in the night except only one person keeps looking back. So I always find myself sticking to places that are falling quiet and forgotten, and while there is some relief in not having to fight for attention it’s also disheartening that by that point there aren’t that many people to look at things I want to show anymore…
#d0 stuff#it’s kind of like that in life too#maybe not too bad but I do feel like I could just disappear and nobody would really notice until much later#it’s a part of my personality ig to not take up too much space but at the same time I never got to understand what’s the actual difference#between me and the people that get popular#it’s not even about timing. irl has shown that that’s just how things go and others will find it easy to move on and mot think about any#connections they had with me… idk idk#it makes me think a lot#that I’m like.. removable. and that somehow I also like to pick up fallen fandoms#*falling apart? those that most probably won’t experience a resurrection#personal#don’t reblog ig…#from outside perspective it looks like I just suck at making genuine connections#which I know to be false but it’s just… idk… why is it so easy to put me out of the picture…#ah it’s a no winning day#post inspired by me remembering that it’s not that I’m always late to fandom. I sometimes do make contact with the popular people but#I’ve never been considered a part of the inner circle and it makes me think#how do you become a part of such a circle?? most people there met online. it shouldn’t be too hard to get in#but idk… maybe I’m just too introverted/value my online privacy?#my toxic trait is that I want to be noticed and don’t tolerate rivals in lore knowledge that well /hj#to be more serious. when it comes to fandom it’s probably because I like my stuff to remain personal and not show it too much? I also have#a hard time being constantly active in a community. I need time to digest on my own etc
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hellfireeddiemunson · 6 months
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i have bad melted soup brain today and i hate it
#i have never really felt like just disappearing off of the face of the earth and not talking to Anyone before but i have been thinking of it#a lot today! which is wild bc not my normal isolation thought but today it seems good ahahahaha#i am just. tired. i feel like i am not listened to ever and i feel unwanted as hell lately which i know in the back of my mind i am not#unwanted but boy do it feel like that lately lol. and i’ve been back on my ‘im gonna die alone bc nobody ever will love me how i love them’#bullshit which i have Not missed but it is come back full on ! soooo fun for me hahahahahaha i love to feel miserable about being unwanted#by those around me!!!! love it sooooooooooo much weeeeeee i totally don’t wanna slam my head through a window!!!!#also just in general lately i have felt like people talking to me is a chore to them bc nobody around me has been having actual conversation#it’s all been shit ass one word or one sentence replies from everyone or they talk about what they want and not acknowledge what i said and#i don’t even know what to do about it. i just don’t even want to talk to anyone now bc i feel like they literally don’t want to speak to me#and they don’t care what i have to say clearly bc they don’t pay attention and then bring up what i said says or weeks later like i never#said anything and it’s like hm wow yeah i fucking told you about that??? maybe if you pay attention you’d have known that but it’s fine !!!!#I’m just. tired of it. i am fully understanding of everyone having lives and doing their own things they need to do. but this is like. fr#different. like it feels so much different than that and i don’t get it and i don’t know what to do !!!!!!! i feel like i’m going Nuts#anyways if any of you wanna stick me through a meat grinder i would be forever thankful and you have the rights to take anything i own after#what this boils down to is my autistic ass is like everyone is not doing their normal thing!!! everyone is off their normal talking schedule#with me!!!! this must mean they fucking want me dead!!!!!!!!!!!!!! bc they went off script/pattern and not in a way they have in the past#that indicated that they just are struggling to reach out! this is different and bad and they want you out of their life!!!!!!!#which is ridiculous but what the fuck am i to do about it bc i will be thinking this until i basically am told otherwise by these people. so#that’s soooo much fun i love brains they’re so silly i wish i could jump at a wall and stick to it until i just slowly peel off and onto the#floor. anyways. hope everyone else has a good night
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danveration · 2 months
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That no-good-first-man-on-earth
Parings: Alastor x reader
Summary: Alastor opens up to you (kinda). You confront him about his cane being gone, asking what happened after the early extermination attack.
Word count: (Around) 1154
Warnings: Mention of Adam dying, mention of death, mention of Al taking someone’s soul, ummm.. yes I think that’s about it!
A/N: YES I MADE IT !! the ending might be a bit rusty but I hope you enjoy it nevertheless! :’)
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It was a week or two after the early extermination attack. The hotel has gotten a bit more residents and attention due to Charlie and the original residents protecting hell and successfully winning. The hotel has gotten an upgrade, that’s for sure. Lucifer now approves of its looks, so that says something.
During the attack you noticed how Alastor disappeared for a while and came back when it was all over. It made you question what happened when he went up against Adam. He was fine, physically. But you noticed something in his eyes that changed. Of course, he still smiles the same as before.. but it doesn’t always seem like he wants to. But the biggest, most obvious thing you noticed is that his staff/cane is gone. Nobody really seemed to question it but it set off an alarm in your brain because, well, he always has it on him.
You’re currently sitting in one of the lounge chairs in the lobby of the hotel, when you see Alastor confidently stroll in. He gives the lobby a quick look all around to see who’s all in there. In which, right now it’s just you.
“Hello, my dear!” He says, smiling and starts walking towards you.
“I must say, it’s rare that it’s empty in this area. Peace and quiet is often something I don’t have the luxury in experiencing, especially now that the hotel has gotten the attention that Charlie desperately craved.” He laughs.
He’s now standing beside you. You look up and smile back at him.
“Yeah, I’m happy for her though. She seems very overwhelmed, you know? But in a good way.” You say.
“Mm yes, she does, doesn’t she?”
You want to bring up how he doesn’t have his cane anymore, but you don’t know exactly how he’ll react. Though, he hasn’t ever snapped at you so you think it won’t be bad. Knowing him, he’ll probably just avoid the question by saying, “that’s for me to know.” As he does whenever someone brings up why he was absent for 7 years.
“Hey, Al?” You say, looking at him.
He raises his brow in question.
“Hm? What is it, dear?” He asks.
“I have a question.. you totally don’t need to tell me but I’ve just noticed that your um.. cane? You don’t have it anymore.”
You notice as you bring it up, Alastor tenses up and smiles more, darting his eyes away from you. You can feel that this was something he didn’t think you’d bring up.
He doesn’t seem to be saying anything, so you continue. “I was just wondering.. why is that? You usually keep it on you at all times. And also I’ve noticed that you’ve been a bit different since-“ You are stopped suddenly by Alastor using his shadow magic to teleport the two of you to his room.
You are caught by surprise, looking around disoriented, but than you realize where you are.
“Uhm- Al?” You question.
You assume he took you two to his room because he didn’t want anyone to hear the conversation, so you don’t question it. Which makes sense, he doesn’t want anyone else questioning his motives.
He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He opens his eyes and looks at you. “That is for me to know.” He says in a neutral tone.
Wow such a surprising statement.
“I knew you’d say that. Listen, you know you can talk to me, right? I’m here for you.” You assure him.
He looks at you weirdly, as if he is waiting for the joke line to happen. But it doesn’t. You care for him. That’s definitely new. Sure, Alastor has friends. Or, acquaintances, as he calls it. But you seem to deeply care for him and what happened.
He isn’t sure exactly how to react. “How amusing! That’s very kind of you.” He says and chuckles. You notice something in his eyes that doesn’t align with the emotion he is trying to project.
“Alastor, I’m serious. You don’t need to put on a show for me.. I want to know the real you.” You say, looking at him.
He debates if he should continue with his charades, but knows you’ll just see past it. He never ever would be this laid-back with anyone else accusing him of “putting on a show” or accusing him of having alternative feelings. He would’ve surely taken their soul or.. well, killed them by now. But you and his relationship has always been good. You guys always chat about whatever nonsense comes to mind, he showed you around the place where he records his radio broadcasts, and even let you attended once. He always had a soft spot for you. You never had a fear of him and never liked it when Husk or other people badmouthed him. He once caught you ranting to Niffty about how much you adored him. It made him smile.
Alastor squints his eyes and thinks of what to say.
“Well, my dear. You know that no-good-first-man-on-earth? Adam, I believe his name was.” He emphasizes the word “was,” seemingly to be very happy and satisfied now that he’s dead. He laughs continues, “he used his no-good angelic waves to break in half!” He says.
You’re in shock. Not because you thought his cane was indestructible or anything. It was because he actually told you what happened. You guess he trusts you more than he lets on.
“Oh..” You look at him sympathetically. “I’m so sorry, Alastor.”
“Mm, yes. Me too. But no worries, dear. I can live without it.” He says trying to cover up the fact that he cares quite a lot.
Without thinking, you place a hand on his arm trying to give him comfort. He slowly moves his head to look at your hand. He doesn’t mind one bit, in fact, he feels the complete opposite of how he usual feels when people try to touch him.
You quickly remember he doesn’t like physical touch very much, so you move to pull away.
“No.” He says quickly.
You’re confused and question what he means.
“No, what?”
Your hand on his arm felt like a new sensation he hasn’t felt before. He quickly became embarrassed of his sudden outburst decline of you not taking his hand on his arm.
Something inside him snaps and his persona cracks, and he then does something that you’ve never expect.
He hugs you.
Your heart feels warm and you have butterflies in your stomach. THE Alastor, the radio demon is hugging you. You don’t see him as those labels though. You see him as HIM.
Despite your incredible shock in what is happening, you hug him back, wrapping your arms around his suit jacket.
“I do apologize.” He mumbles while hugging you.
“You don’t have to apologize, Alastor. This is what I wanted. For you to open up.” You say softly and smile.
He doesn’t pull away yet, and you don’t mind one bit.
A/N: IM THINKING OF MAKING A PART TWO WHERE THE READER MAKES HIM ANOTHER CANE AS A SURPRISE. LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!!!!
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disneyprincemuke · 3 months
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ice man * femdriver
(series masterlist) | (📂 a day in the life)
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sebastian grins, turning his gaze away from the man jabbing his finger into the table. he rests his eyes on her, lips parted as she attentively tries and takes in all the information unloaded on her.
“wait,” she raises her hand slightly. “am i allowed to curse on tv?”
kimi turns to sebastian with a stare. “they brainwashed her already. not much we can do.”
“no,” sebastian mutters, patting his friend on the shoulder. “she will listen to you. she listens to anyone who’s been in formula 1.”
kimi turns back to her, already nodding with a small excited smile on her face. “he’s right — i am very impressionable at my big age,” she says. “i didn’t know i can curse on tv.”
“it’s frowned upon,” kimi points out with a small smile. he is holding back laughter from her wide eyes and enthusiasm. “but nobody ever said you can’t do it.”
“oh. can i walk away from interviewers?” she tilts her head, chewing on her bottom lip as she thinks. “they can get a tad misogynistic at times.”
“why walk away?” kimi laughs, leaning back in his seat. “ask them to fuck off.”
worry flashes on her face. “that’s a bit mean.”
“they’re looking down on you for being a woman and you think asking them to fuck off is mean?” kimi raises an eyebrow. her eyes dart up to meet his, her eyebrows shooting up as she processes his words. “exactly.”
“i didn’t know i could do that,” she whispers. “but isn’t that a bit much for now? they already are not very fond of my presence in the sport.”
kimi shakes his head, closing his eyes as he disapproves her worries. “who is getting paid to drive cars and travel to countries with all expenses paid?”
“me?”
��correct answer.” kimi sighs. “so why care about what other people have to say?”
“i,” she trails off, “i have this thing.”
“you just go around thinking about other people’s feelings all the time?” kimi raises an eyebrow. “how do you get anything done?”
“it’s hard,” she admits in a cry, throwing her arms in the air and slumping her shoulders. she clears her throat and sits up. “but you’re right. you’re right! i’m getting paid to be here! this is my job! i should be able to react how i see fit if someone is being mean to me!”
kimi claps. “yes! exactly! defend yourself if you need to.”
she hums, pursing her lips to one side. “question: if i crash-“
“try your best not to crash.”
“obviously, seb. my question is: if i crash, can i also walk away to get ice cream? like you did in malaysia?”
he folds his arms over his chest. “apparently you cannot do that anymore. i’m sorry, kid.”
“outrageous,” she scoffs, shaking her head. she presses her lips together and perks up again. “can i meet your ice baby?”
kimi turns to sebastian. “what does she mean?”
“your baby,” sebastian laughs, hearing you talk about how cute kimi’s child is. “she is very good with kids.”
kimi looks at her, smile wavering as he points at her. “you want my advice, kid?”
“of course!”
“don’t have kids.”
she smiles, gesturing to the room around her. “i wouldn’t exchange this for anything else.” she glances at her watch and sighs. “i don’t want to have to leave. but i promised susie and marta lunch before the f1 acad finale.”
“aw,” kimi coos. “i’ll be in the paddocks all weekend with seb, you know. i won’t disappear into thin air if i leave your sight.”
“i know! but i’ve been waiting all year to meet you!” she gushes, hands cupping her cheeks as she grins at him dreamily. “i watched you growing up! i loved you!”
kimi laughs — the kind that sebastian rarely hears, a genuine smile and his eyes crinkling at her. “kid, we’re going to dinner tonight. i promise i’ll even send you back to your hotel room.”
“okay!” she squeaks, pushing her chair back and springing to her feet. “pick a restaurant, okay! maybe if i eat like you, i’d be just like you.”
kimi smiles with a nod. he watches her round the table, bending down to press a kiss on seb’s cheek. he turns his head expectedly at her, raising his chin and leaning in slightly.
she giggles airily, hesitantly moving over to press a kiss on his cheek. she jogs towards the door of sebastian’s office, tripping on her feet along the way.
she turns around one last time. “i’ll see you later, dads!”
she extends her hand to wave at them before closing the door. a moment of silence passes the empty room, but the remnants of her smile and enthusiasm still remain in the room.
“she’s going to be amazing, you know.”
“i know,” sebastian smiles proudly, nodding. “she’s a future world champion, you reckon?”
“absolutely,” kimi nods. “you vouched for the right person, seb. good job.”
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miniwheat77 · 6 months
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Tight. (Mean!Keegan x Reader.)
!CW! NSFW, Smut, Keegan being a meanie, rough sex, hate sex, unprotected p in v sex, sorry if I missed any.
This is not edited give me a break lmao
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You flinch slightly as he passes by you, body going rigid.
You cross your arms, nervously passing by him. You hate that he’s able to do this to you.
He’s mean to you. No matter what you do, he hates it. He’s cruel and it’s worse when there’s no one around. You hurry into your room to avoid him anymore. You don’t know what you did, but he hates you.
When you were first on base, you were happy. You loved being in the military and you loved helping people. Until now. His hatred for you made you bitter and cold. Waking up was tiring and miserable and sometimes you just wish you hadn’t. Seeing him, hearing what he had to say. All of it. It was sickening.
You really liked Keegan at first. You tried your hardest to get on his good side. Nothing you did ever seemed to work. Eventually you just gave up.
A sigh leaves your lips. Wiping your tired eyes. You had to trade for watch soon and you weren’t ready.
You stood up, looking out your door to make sure the hallway was clear, you didn’t want to run into Keegan anymore tonight.
You made your way down the hallway, closing your door behind you. You exit through the large metal door and make your way across base to the watch tower. Making your way up the stairs to relieve the last person on watch.
He thanked you before going back down the stairs you had just come up. It was basically a room full of cameras up in a watch tower, meant for watching everything. “Hey, before I go.” He stops just as he’s out of your sight, coming back inside. “Keegan was telling me a little bit about you.” He smiles. He’s standing with his back to the door, closing it. You notice his fingers twist the lock on it. The hair on your body stands up and you stand up from your chair, resting your hand on your sidearm. “If Keegan said it, I’m sure it’s not true.” You mumble. “He was just saying that you like to… get around. Was thinking maybe since nobody will be up here for a couple hours.” He shrugs, tugging the zipper down on his vest. “What he said wasn’t true. I’m not interested.” You say quickly. “Oh come on.. is it me?” He breathes. Taking a step toward you. You raise your shirt up to reveal your gun. “I said I’m not interested. I won’t say it again.” You breathe. He raises his hands up, a laugh leaving his lips. “Alright. Suit yourself. Thought I’d try my luck.” He mumbles. Taking a step back. “He said you were a slut, thought you’d be easier.” He laughs. Disappearing through the door finally. As soon as he’s gone, you’re rushing to lock the door. Sighing in relief. What the fuck was that?
Tears burn your eyes as you sit down, letting your head hang. You can’t help them as they fall. You were so defeated, and so fucking angry.
You wipe your eyes, regaining your composure for a minute before picking up your radio. “Hey, Maria, can you cover my watch for me early? I’ve got a headache and think I need to go see a medic.” You call to her over the radio. “No problem.”
You hurry down the steps, not wanting to be spotted by her. Keegan always spent his time in the mechanic shop on base, he got along with the mechanic and liked learning new things. Most likely he’d be there. It was late, but he didn’t sleep well during the night. You rush across the base, ankles burning from fast walking as you burst through the door to the shop. There’s only one Humvee currently inside. Keegan is sitting at the desk, working on some kind of paperwork. You startle him slightly when you barge through the door, making him look up. He stands up when he sees you. “What are you doing here?” He mumbles. “Fuck you.” You seethe. You pause, the tears slip from your eyes before you even start talking, you want to hold them back but you can’t. Not anymore. Your feet are planted on the ground a few feet away from him. “I just had someone come onto me in the goddamn watch tower because of you. Because of what you keep saying about me.” Your voice is unsteady. “I don’t know what the fuck I ever did you to Keegan, but I can’t fucking take it anymore. You win.” You spit. “You’re so fucking dramatic.” He mumbles. “Dramatic?” You freeze. You turn to him. “You’ve done nothing but make my life a living hell since I met you.” Your voice is quiet and serious. “I used to love this. I used to love knowing that I was helping people. I used to love every second of a mission, getting to meet civilians of all kinds, seeing all parts of the world and looking at peace through the violence. Now? I dread every single second of every single mission, because of you. I pray that I’ll die on them. Get shot, or stabbed. Just so that I don’t have to see your face. When we have to parachute out to reach a mission? I pray that my parachute doesn’t open. You’ve made my life a living hell, you’ve ruined me. So yeah, you win Keegan. Maybe that makes me dramatic but it’s the truth. I hate you. I hate you so goddamn much that it hurts.” Tears stream freely from your eyes. “Okay? What do you want me to say hm?” He breathes. “Why. Why do you do it?” He can’t lie, the heartbreak you feel unsettles him a little bit. “Because. You think you’re so perfect. You think that everything is all fine and dandy. The military isn’t for pathetic people like you. I mean.. look at you?” He laughs.
“So.. because I choose to see the good in everything, I deserve to be torn down? Treated like shit?” You’re moving closer to him. He laughs. “I’m sorry that not everyone can be a miserable sack of shit like you.” You growl. A gasp leaves your lips when he grasps you by your throat, backing you up and slamming you up against the wall by the desk. “Watch your fucking mouth.” He growls. A whimper leaves your lips. “Fuck you.” You seethe. He tightens his grip. You try to swallow but can’t. “Do your fucking worst, you can’t hurt me any-“ he cuts off the rest of your oxygen, watching you turn red. His eyes are fixed on your lips and you look confused. He lets go, hearing you take in a deep breath. He moves closer to you, looking at your eyes before they flicker to your lips.
You’ve got to be delusional.
He grits his teeth, hand shaking as it sits at your throat. “You’re pathetic.” He growls. “Little bunny can’t even take a joke.” He chuckles. You try to push him back, but he forces you back even harder. “I hate you too, you know. Everyone fucking likes you and they don’t know how fucking pathetic you are.” He shakes his head.
“You feel good? Does treating me like shit make you feel good? You’re the pathetic one here. You spend every second of every day making someone else’s life hell because you’re so unhappy in your ow-“
His lips are what cut you off. You freeze for a second, and despite every nerve in your body telling you to force him off of you, you kiss him back. He kisses you hard, forcing his tongue into your mouth, he’s got his mask pushed up to the bridge of his nose. He tightens his grip on your throat unintentionally as he kisses you, like you’ll slip away from his grasp. He lets go of your throat finally, lowering his hand to grope your breasts, hearing you gasp into his mouth. When he pulls away, you take in a sharp breath. Seeing the way you’re looking at him makes him regret it. The loving stare you always have. Intensified by his touch.
He reaches lower, unbuttoning your pants and pushing them down your legs. Once your lower half is completely exposed to him, he shoves some of the stuff on the desk to the side. Lifting you up and setting you on the desk. He hurries to unbutton his own pants, tugging them just low enough to expose himself. You’re still staring him down, lips parted slightly. “Stop looking at me like that.” He growls.
“What?” You breathe, “like you like me. You should hate me.” He growls. Lining himself up with your entrance. He tugs you closer to the edge of the desk, pushing himself into your entrance, hearing you gasp. “Oh fuck- you’re fucking tight,” he growls. Your eyes move from his face to where the both of you connect. Watching him slide into the cavern between your legs. You can’t peel your eyes away from him, your body betrays you for him. “Keegan-“ you whine. “The door-“ you gasp, clutching onto the desk. “Shut up.” He growls. “Let them see us.” He pants. He’s got a death grip on your thighs, the desk making an awful screech with each thrust he takes into you. The metal scratching the concrete. You try to be quiet, but it’s hard. As much as you hate to admit it, he feels good. Sliding up against parts of you that’ve been completely untouched. He stimulates parts of you that you didn’t know existed, you didn’t know you needed this. You can feel something building in your lower stomach.
You know that you should push him away, feel disgusted for letting him have something so intimate. You’ll be another notch on his belt, he’ll return to being the asshole that he is. The cry that leaves your lips interrupting your thoughts, you sit up, holding yourself tight. You’re watching him slide into you, seeing your arousal build at the base of his cock. You go quiet and that’s when he’s concerned. Seeing you staring between the both of you. You don’t push him away, so he keeps going. Your breathing picks up, but you can’t tear your eyes away from it. You’re having sex with him, with Keegan. Your eyes finally flicker up to his face and he laughs. “Thought I lost you in there for a second.” He mumbles. Gritting his teeth. You say nothing, breath catching in your throat. “Look at you. So fucking dumb because of my cock.” The knot that’s wound up in your stomach is about to snap. “Keegan- I-“ you breathe. You can’t even finish your sentence, your body lurching hard as you cum, his eyes widening when you soak his cargo pants. Your eyes roll back, knuckles turning white as you hold onto the desk. “That’s it. Cum on my fucking cock.” He growls. You’re gripping onto him tight, sending him right into his own orgasm, hearing loud moans and whimpers leave his lips as he reaches his peak. He fills you up to the hilt, teeth gritted as he fucks you to ride out your high. Enjoying the way you tense up at the way he overstimulates you.
You’re quiet when he pulls out of you, whining at the loss of you wrapped around him. His filth spills back out of you, and he bites his lip when he sees it. He adjusts his mask when he steps back from you.
You move quickly to slide your pants back on, quickly putting your boot back on. You take in a breath to say something to him, but stop yourself. He’s got his back turned to you to clean himself up, and that’s when you take your opportunity to leave. He hears your footsteps and assumes you going to get something. Whipping around when he hears the door open. He sees your arm shutting the door behind you. He sighs. “Goddamnit Y/N.” He mumbles, buttoning his pants and fixing the desk.
The following day, he can’t seem to find you. He’s been looking all day. Finally, you emerge into the hallway from your Captain’s office into the hallway. “Well. If you really think that’s what you want, we’ll set you up an appointment and fill out the paperwork for a transfer.” He nods. You smile nervously. “We’re really going to miss you, and between here and there, I hope you’ll change your mind. You’re a good Sergeant Y/N.” He nods, passing by Keegan. Your eyes follow him, and your smile fades when you see Keegan standing there. He’s staring back at you. You tear your eyes away from his, turning and making your way to your room.
You step inside, closing the door behind you with a sigh.
He opens it and steps inside, startling you. He closes it behind himself, locking it. “You’re not going.” He breathes. You stay quiet. “Keegan. You need to leave.” You finally say after a minute. “No. You’re not going. If you go, I’ll follow you.” He breathes. “Wherever you go, I’ll find a way to be there with you. Don’t care what it is or where.”
“You can’t. You’ve done enough.”
He growls at your response, stepping closer to you. “You’re not going. No.” He shakes his head. He grasps his mask, tugging it off. “No. You’re staying.” You close your eyes as he moves closer. “Nobody will touch you like I can.” He breathes. You clench your eyes tighter. “You saw the way your body reacted to mine. I made you cum on me, I filled your pussy with my cum.” He breathes. “Stop-“ you flinch. “You loved it.” He mumbles, he’s backed you up into the wall behind you. “Keegan stop.” You breathe. “Open your eyes. Look at me.” He breathes, pressing his hand to your throat but not being rough. “Nobody will fuck you like I did. Nobody will understand you.”
“You’re wrong. I can’t live like this.”
“Give yourself to me completely and things will change.” He breathes.
“You call me a slut, I’m not doing this.” You push him back but he forces you back. “You are doing this.” He grits his teeth. “I know, I know I don’t say the right things. I didn’t mean it. I just.. you’re so fucking perfect and I can’t.. but you.. you let me fuck you. You let me touch you.” He closes his eyes. “Don’t go.” He breathes.
Your eyes prick with tears and you keep your eyes closed because you know if you see his eyes you’ll change your mind. “Stay.” He breathes. His breath is warm on your face as he holds you there. “You have to stop. If I stay.” You breathe. “You have to stop saying what you say about me.”
“I can do that.” He sighs. Running his hand between your legs. “But I’m going to be rough with you.. I have to be rough with your pussy if you want me to be nice.” He breathes. You go tense as he touches you. You sigh. You don’t know what to do. You feel his lips against yours once again, and you know you won’t be able to stay away if you kiss back.
You’re delusional. He’s played mind games with you. What is happening?
You can’t help it, melting right into him, kissing him back.
Here you go, spiraling out of control once again.
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usedtobecooler · 8 months
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this must be the place
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eddie munson x steve harrington x afab!reader | 8.6k words
summary: the summer of 1985 is only just beginning when a trip to scoops ahoy! unlocks some deeply hidden feelings you have swirling in your stomach for steve harrington. eddie munson won't let you live it down, and maybe that’s due to his own feelings too, but a chance encounter on a hot night at lovers lake sends you all down a rabbit hole you could never of prepared for.
content warnings: 18+ only minors dni, sexual content (threesome, piv sex, oral sex male receiving, dirty talk, van sex), porn with plot, eddie and reader are fwbs with feelings, gentle bullying and banter, eddie is canonically queer, mentions of past king!steve, brief homophobia mentions, a heartfelt conversation. feelings are felt on all three sides, if you don't like it look away <3 reader isn't explicitly described as alt/goth but it's implied.
Steve Harrington is staring at you. 
In his silly little sailor uniform, eyeing you up whilst you silently pick at your banana sundae. It’s strange, truly, because Steve Harrington was a certified ladykiller, and had been for as long as you’d known him. You’d seen him lay on the signature moves one too many times during previous encounters, always making the girls blush and ogle at him dreamily as he told them exactly what they wanted to hear. 
So, why was he looking at you like a classified moron? Like a little creep who had no idea how to interact with women?
He was unfairly attractive, even when he was watching you like a dumbass. Dark lashes fanning his cheeks when he blinked — freckled, tan skin and juicy, almost glossy looking lips. He was so pretty it was kind of hard to look at him. Nobody was immune to the Harrington charm, not even you, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself he didn’t have an affect on you. 
You take longer than you care to admit to before you catch yourself staring back behind hooded lids, and Steve notices, gives you a small smile. You duck your head back down, a heat spreading over your cheeks – why were you acting like a schoolgirl?!
“Don’t turn around, but—“ you barely even get the sentence out before Eddie’s whipping his head around like an idiot, facing exactly where Steve is standing, the poor guy frozen like a deer caught in the headlights, a dark flush spreading on his shocked face before he’s turning away. He hastily retreats through the barn doors to the back room, and you’re almost positive you see a cartoonish puff of air that his disappearing act leaves in his wake. 
“What the hell was that, Munson? I fucking said not to turn around,” you hiss through gritted teeth, leaning forward to smack Eddie’s bare arm with your sundae spoon. Eddie feigns a little hurt noise in the back of his throat, rubbing at the red patch of skin where you’d spanked him with the silverware. 
“Hey! No hitting,” Eddie whines, leaning forward and stealing the glazed cherry from your sundae, popping it in his mouth with a delighted grin. You go to make a noise of protest, and he’s already butting in, “Nuh-uh, I think not, brat. That’s payment for the tyranny of abuse I have to deal with.” 
You roll your eyes, digging your spoon into the melting ice cream, grimacing — you never liked the texture of ice cream once it began to heat, “Stop being such a big crybaby,” it comes out as a grumble, no menace behind it, as you pay even more unneeded attention to the dripping cream that spills from the lip of the spoon, “I swear Steve was like… staring at me.” 
Eddie snorts, swiping the glass from your side of the table. You let him, too — you didn’t want it anymore, and Eddie was a creep who liked melted ice cream, especially when all the flavours swirled together and created an almost grey-like colour, “Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart. You’ve got a giant zit on your forehead — I’ve been staring, too.” 
“Oh, real cute, Eddie.” You roll your eyes, but your hand comes up to your face, fingertips gently running over your smooth skin to make sure there were in fact no pimples. Eddie chortles at that, too, knowing he’d got you concerned about the possibility of there being an actual zit that Steve Harrington was indeed staring at. The thought alone was mortifying.
You watch in disgusted wonderment as he tucks into the ice cream like a man starved. He always ate like he hadn’t had a meal in months, it bordered on gross. You grimace a little when ice cream dribbles out the corner of his mouth, though you catch yourself fighting not to lean over and swipe it away like the main character in a John Hughes movie. 
“Remind me again why I suck face with you for fun?” You ponder, mostly to yourself, but Eddie’s looking at you with his stupid, big doe eyes and this goofy grin on his face, so you don’t even need him to tell you the answer. 
You know why. 
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“Saw Harrington checking you out today,” Eddie says, almost conversationally, and you scoff — you’re literally riding his dick, what sort of fucking thing to say during sex is that? 
“What?” You ask, bewilderment etched on your features as you stop your rhythm, planting your ass firmly on Eddie’s thighs and he groans, the tight heat of your pussy completely enveloping his length making him shudder. 
“Shit, why’d you stop?” He whines, head landing with a small thump against your soft pillows, his big brown orbs rolling into the back of his skull. He grips onto your hips tightly, rucking up into you for emphasis, and you gasp.
“Why are you thinking about Steve Harrington when your dick is in me?” You counter, rolling your hips until your clit catches on the thatch of dark hair nestled on Eddie’s pubic bone, a shudder vibrating through your whole body from the sensation. 
“I wasn’t,” Eddie argues, but it’s half-assed. He grows impatient quickly, slides an arm around your back and flips you over in one motion — it’s pretty smooth, especially for Eddie, who was mostly gangly and not in control of his own limbs at any given time. You keen into it, a shocked little moan escaping you when he bottoms out once more, ruddy head of his cock sliding against your front wall, “Jus’ think he wants to fuck you, is all.” 
You narrow your eyes, a smirk playing on the corners of your lips, “Why do you sound jealous?” You cackle, sighing softly when Eddie ruts into you deeper, staking his claim without a single word, “You’re the one fucking me right now, not him. You worried he’s gonna steal me away? That maybe he’d be better? Bigger?” 
Eddie’s eyes narrow at that, any sweetness in his glassy eyes vanishing when you speak. You’re in for it, truly. You’ve touched a nerve, and he’s wound up. You can’t help the way your chest tightens, a heat blooming in you that’s a mix of want and pride. It was so easy to rile him up.
“You’re gonna regret that, brat,” Eddie says through gritted teeth, gripping at the underside of your thighs, bruisingly tight, hauling your knees up to your ears. The new angle makes you cry out, his cock bruising into your cervix, “There you go, sweetheart. Cry for my cock. Beg for it.”
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You can’t get Steve Harrington out of your mind. It’s not that you deliberately think of him, it’s just hard not to when he’s suddenly everywhere.
You watch from your bedroom window with a furrowed brow as said Steve Harrington climbs out of his ridiculously flashy Bimmer, dressed in too-tight faded jeans, a grey shell jacket and a plain white tee underneath. He’s so fucking tan, like he’s been out bathing in the heat of Indiana’s summer all day and not working under the harsh fluorescent lights in Scoops. 
You bite at your glossy lip, wondering if there’s any tan lines there or if he’s truly that tanned all over. Wondering if his moles and beauty marks dip below the collar of his jacket, desperately wanting to trace them with your tongue and make him squirm.
Linda Curtis bounces out of her front door, adjacent to your own, permed blonde hair pulled back in a claw clip, dressed in the ugliest pink shirt you've ever seen. Linda was an ex drama club nerd, had vaguely run in the same circle as Steve used to during Senior year, once she got her braces off and Tommy considered her hot. Billy Hargrove drove her to school one goddamn time and that was it, she was hot shit everybody wanted. What Steve saw in her, you would never know, but it took all sorts. Or whatever Eddie said.
You watch curiously as the Harrington charm works it’s magic right in front of your very eyes, Steve steps in close to Linda, brushes a loose curl back out of her eyes — Jesus Christ, why was that doing something for you — and says something you can’t make out, but it’s enough to have Linda blushing and pulling nervously on the hem of her denim shorts.
Why were you jealous?
The telltale noise of an obnoxiously loud horn honking lets you — and probably the entire neighbourhood — know Eddie had arrived to pick you up, snapping you completely out of your daydream. Your lips curl up into a smirk when both Linda and Steve jump ten feet at the sound, Steve rolling his eyes and scoffing.
What a bitch.
Eddie catches you looking from your window and lets out an obnoxious laugh, grinning up at you with his annoyingly perfect teeth. You wanted to punch him, maybe, but Friday nights were for one thing and one thing only, and that was getting high at Lovers Lake in the flatbed of the van. 
So it’d have to wait until you didn’t need him for the weed or the ride.
Summer meant the pretty sunset as a backdrop whilst you smoked the day's events away — it somehow made everything that little bit more relaxing, watching the swirls of orange, pink and purple melt together as your brain fogged with the drugs, a nice settling in your tummy as your high took over. 
It was second only to the heavy September rain that you loved so much, you found yourself yearning for it all year around. The loud patter of the large droplets clinking on the tin roof of Eddie’s van, buried under a nest of blankets to keep the cool chill off your arms and legs. Eddie’s hot breath fanning over your neck as he kissed it, chest heavy against your back. Warm, solid and comforting.
Maybe you were in love with him, or maybe you weren’t. You didn’t want to think too much about that.
You glide out of the house as quietly as you can muster, not wanting to arouse suspicion about where you were going. Even in your twenties, your parents would still have a few choice words for you in regards to Eddie Munson, and you were in no mood for the lecture. You’d heard it too many times in the years you’d known him, since fifth grade when he pushed you in the playground and you pulled his hair in retaliation. 
From that moment on you were inseparable, to the dismay of your parents.
You’re aware of two other sets of eyes watching you from across the street as you bounce down the driveway, all smiles as excitement thrums through your entire body. Eddie’s maybe looking at you like you hung the fucking moon or something, but that’s probably to do with the fact you’re wearing his shirt and looking the epitome of hot.
Okay, maybe you had a complex.
“So that’s where my shirt went,” Eddie hums, giving you an appreciative once-over as you wrench the passenger door open with a horrific sounding crunch of metal, “looks better on you, I’ve gotta say.”
You clamber into the van with a huff, laughter spilling into it, “Yeah, yeah. You don’t need to woo me, Munson. We’re gonna fuck anyway, don’t worry.”
Eddie laughs loud and so fucking obnoxious, as if for somebody else’s entertainment, and it does catch the attention of the lovebirds on the other side of the road. You look over just as Steve catches your eyes, and suddenly your chest feels kind of heavy as he stares at you with a kind of intensity that you can’t put a finger on.
“Take a fuckin’ picture, Harrington,” Eddie cackles, head basically out the fucking window and he’s grinning at them both, snapping you completely out of it, “that’s as close as you’re getting to her, count your lucky stars.”
Linda turns her nose up, like she’s disgusted at the fact that Eddie even so much as looked in her direction, however Steve flusters. His cheeks flush with something akin to embarrassment, and he turns his head to hide from you both, instead busying himself with grappling for Linda’s hands once more. 
Eddie laughs almost maniacally as you take off, tyres squealing and kicking up loose stone chips in your wake, “Little Stevie didn’t know what to do with himself!”
“He looked mortified.” You agree quietly, sinking into your seat with a little grin. Something about Eddie having that effect on Steve from such a simple little sentence was almost entertaining, considering how things once were. 
Eddie and Steve weren’t friends. In fact quite the opposite. Steve and Tommy were miserable assholes for years, made Eddie’s life hell at any given turn unless they needed him for drugs. 
You think back, and truthfully the turning point was during Junior year. Steve had tripped Eddie in the hall, called him ‘queer’. Eddie didn’t stand for that, sucker punched Steve right in the jaw, hard enough that his skull hit the locker adjacent to him.
“That shit might hurt you when your daddy calls you it, but you’ve gotta do a lot worse than call me exactly what I am as an insult, Harrington.” Eddie had grinned, vicious and seething, as he watched Steve clutch desperately at his bruised jaw, wide eyed and hair askew from the force.
Steve never bothered Eddie again after that.
In fact, not long after, Steve never bothered anybody again. Maybe the knock to the head had quite literally knocked some sense into him, or something.
“You good?” Eddie’s voice, his large hand gripping your thigh knocks you back into reality, out of the daydream, and the grounding is enough to have your entire body melting into the simple touch.
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“You ever think about what you’re gonna do if the band doesn’t work out?” You ask quietly, shoulders aching from where they dig into the bulky metal on the backs of Eddie’s front seats. The ringing in your ears drowns out the cricket chirps now, eyes hazy and no doubt bloodshot to hell, two joints deep and all that. 
You can feel Eddie’s gaze on the side of your face, like he’s trying to bore a hole into your skull and rummage around in your brain, those wide dark chocolate eyes staring you down with a serious amount of intensity. You wriggle slightly under it, suddenly uncomfortable — wrong question.
“Honestly, no,” Eddie answers honestly, tearing his eyes away from you in an instant, letting you breathe again momentarily. His curls curtain his profile, the bulbous tip of his nose the only feature now visible, he picks nervously at a loose thread on his jeans, “I’ll probably go work with Wayne at the plant, they’re always lookin’ for workers. Still sell on the side too, I doubt Rick will let me out of this deal, I bring in the most revenue.”
“Can come work at Sam Goody with me,” you sing-song, resting your head on his shoulder. You pretend not to notice the way he instantly melts at the press on his side, seemingly grounding him just as he’s beginning to panic about things like the future, “it’s a pretty good gig, and we get discounts on cassettes!” 
Eddie huffs out a laugh, pulling a drag from the joint that briefly laid forgotten at his side, ash falling onto the scratchy blanket you both laid on top of, burning holes into the material, “That code for ‘and we get to watch Harrington’s juicy ass in those shorts!’?” 
You cackle, all seriousness from the conversation vanishing in an instant as Eddie turns on his usual class clown persona, mocking you with his silly tone and grinning like an idiot, “Scoops is literally across the landing! I can’t see that far.” 
“I can’t believe he got to you,” Eddie’s teasing tone continues, he shuffles on his bony ass and accidentally shoulders you in the temple in the process, causing you to whine quietly, “sorry, shit, sorry, sweetheart. I guess I just — didn’t ticket you as being the type to like what he had going on.” 
“I could say the same for you,” your voice is barely a mumble as you drag your heavy head from his shoulder, looking at him properly.
Eddie hisses a sharp draw of breath in between his clenched teeth, passes you the joint that you take happily, sucking in a drag like a desperate woman. The silence sits heavy between you both for a long moment, weighs on you like a fucking shackle to your ankles, pulling you down into shark infested waters.
“He was always everything I wasn’t and I hated that shit,” Eddie mutters, fidgets — can’t look you in the fucking eye, “to begin with I was jealous and angry, he had it so fucking easy and people just fell at his feet, worshipped the asshole no matter how much of a prick he could be.”
You nod, extend your hand to pass the joint back to him — Eddie shudders when your cold fingers connect with his, and you allow them to linger for only a split second before you pull them back once again. 
“Remember when I punched him in the hall, once? Think it was junior year or something,” Eddie recalls, and you have to pretend like you’re not two halves of the same whole for just a moment, like you weren’t just reminiscing on the exact scenario hours earlier, “he called me queer. And at that point I didn’t really know what I was, but him saying it just — fucking solidified it, or something. I said something mean, but I confirmed to him and myself what I sorta knew all along.”
“I remember,” you breathe, chest tightening, “I think you hit close to home, when you said his dad called him the same thing.”
Eddie laughs, mirthless, canines sharp as he smiles so wide, yet it doesn’t reach his eyes — he looks manic, “Yeah, well. I’d heard shit, and I used it to my advantage at that moment. Was wrong, I know. He had it fuckin’ coming, but after that I realised… I didn’t hate him. I thought I was jealous of how easy he had it with chicks and how they fell for it, but then I guess I realised I maybe wanted to be his conquest of the week.” 
It tugs at your chest, and you’re caught between feeling relief and feeling utterly devastated that Eddie spent all this time pining and having to hide it from the world, when you could openly ogle and gawk at Steve without so much as a second glance from passersby. 
You’re too high to truly comprehend it, and maybe you just chose to ignore the signs, but now it makes sense as to why Eddie would bring Steve up and use him to mock you, how his eyes would be ablaze with something that wasn’t jealousy, but wanting. He wanted you to bring him up, wanted you to tell him your sordid fantasies. Maybe even wanted to be a part of them, and yeah. That makes your tummy flip.
Your head thumps against the backing of the passenger headrest, a loud breath escaping you that you didn’t even realise you were holding, “God, we really are too fucking alike, Wayne was right maybe we were separated at birth.” 
“Birds of a feather, sweetheart.” Eddie laughs, means it this time. He crowds into your space, plants firm hands on your bare thighs and leaves a chaste kiss on your chin, “Don’t worry, baby. You’ll always be my number one.” 
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You had wondered if Steve’s date had gone poorly when your designated smoke break on that following Monday had been infiltrated by Robin Buckley – the poor girl sighing frustratedly, claiming she just ‘needed a breather from Harrington’s excessive whining’, to which you’d both shared a cackle. You had offered her your cigarette that she declined with a wave of her hand and a small smile, ‘trumpet player and all’ she’d grinned.
You saw Steve on Tuesday, on his lunch break as he wandered into Sam Goody to pick up an order that Dustin Henderson had put in before he went off to Summer camp for six weeks. A Wham! album from late 1984 that had you raising an eyebrow.
“Kid kinda wants to be like me,” Steve had shrugged, cocky as he rolled his eyes, leaned his arm on your counter. Flashed you the goddamn Harrington smile that momentarily had you forgetting that his taste in music was vile, “the chicks love George Michael.” 
“You’re setting the poor guy up to fail by recommending he listens to this shit,” you quipped, handing the plastic bag holding the cassette over to Steve, heat prickling up your spine when your fingers brushed over the handles, “I promise you it’s not George Michael that ‘the chicks’ are interested in.” 
“And what exactly are they interested in?” Steve asked, quirking a brow and smirking at you, giving you a once over with those wandering hazel eyes. 
The little shit was flirting.
“I think you and I both know what they’re interested in, Harrington.” You flirted back, your glossy lips smacking together, catching his eye immediately.
“Are you?” Steve breathed, focused solely on your lips, and you could almost see the second his upstairs brain shut off and his downstairs one took over for him, “Interested, I mean.”
“Oh, honey. I think you know the answer to that.” 
Eddie had appeared on Wednesday, conned you into using your staff discount for the Armed & Dangerous EP — you didn’t even like Anthrax, and Eddie didn’t have a damn record player, yet you still got it for him. 
Steve had been wandering past, hands stuffed deep in his shorts pockets as Eddie left with his bag of goodies and the most ridiculous grin on his face. So engrossed in pulling out a rolly that he slammed right into Steve’s side, sending the poor guy straight to the floor, unable to pull his hands from his pockets in time to stop himself.
You’d watched anxiously from your perch on the stool behind the counter as Eddie crouched into a squat to help Steve up, extending an arm that Steve took with a flush of colour on his cheeks and an embarrassed smile. You couldn’t see Eddie or the expression on his face, but you already knew he was saying something stupid, maybe even cracking a joke, because Steve laughed. Head thrown back and hearty enough that you could hear it faintly, their hands still clasped together even though he was already back on his feet.
Your heart fluttered, beating overtime as you watched the interaction with curious eyes, a nervous wave of butterflies in your tummy. They parted ways, and if Eddie asked, you pretended that you didn’t see him looking over his shoulder once Steve turned away, half buried behind the waves of his hair as he blushed red, his doe eyes soft and fond.
And if by some sort of confusing act of God, Steve was ever to ask you that same question, you never saw him do the exact same thing, just seconds later.
You were screwed.
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Steve doesn’t arrive at the Curtis family home on Friday evening, and you can’t even pretend that you don’t let out a sigh of relief. Just as you had suspected, Robin had indeed been talking about the date during your short conversation, and Steve’s latest conquest was no more.
It’s raining lightly, thunder and lightning cracking in the distance, amplified in amongst the trees as you and Eddie pass a blunt back and forth between your bodies. You’re laid top-to-toe, his head basically hanging upside down out of the back door of the van, you in the resumed position up against the rock hard front seats. 
“There’s somebody out swimming in the lake,” Eddie says, breaking the peaceful silence with his dulcet tones, words deep and heavy from the cotton mouth. His hand halts its movements on your bare calf, “did you see another car here?”
Your eyes narrow, catching a head bobbing in and out of the water at a far distance, way too far away for you to recognise who it was, though swimmers in the lake weren’t uncommon especially during the Summer months, “No, I didn’t. Could’ve walked here, I guess.” 
Eddie’s head whips up at that, and he gets up on his elbows as if it’s going to give him a better look at you, “We’re about ten miles away from civilization, dummy. Nobody's walking out here unless they have a death wish. Maybe they parked in the trees.” 
“Why do you sound so nervous? You think Hopper or his knucklehead deputies are out here taking a dip in the lake whilst undercover trying to catch a couple of shitheads smoking a joint on a Friday night?” You cackle, and Eddie rolls his eyes, lets out an annoyed huff and plucks the joint from your relaxed fingers.
“I’m on my final strike, asshole.” Eddie grunts, sitting up properly and craning his neck to get a better look as the person swims closer and closer to you both, the ripples of water as they glide along the only giveaway, as they keep their head underwater the entire duration.
You find yourself drifting off, hazy and blissed out, the noises and visuals a cacophony of brain scratching senses. Your eyelids go heavy, drooping, and before you know it Eddie’s fingers are brushing your skin and helping along, adding to the sanctity of your mind. You doze peacefully, sighing contentedly. 
Footsteps closing in knock you out of your unconscious state, your brain alerting you to another person who certainly wasn’t Eddie approaching — panic creeps in momentarily, until the figure appears at the open door of the van, knocking the breath from your lungs in a mixture of relief and desperation.
Steve Harrington is in front of you. Dressed in nothing but a pair of shorts and a fucking cropped vest, exposing his toned stomach, his happy trail glistening as droplets of water clinging to the dark hair that disappears into the low waistband of his pants.
It’s. Sobering, to say the least. You’re suddenly conscious of how you’re sitting, legs spread wide in your own shorts, slumped down like an absolute slob. Eyes bloodshot from the weed, your shirt askew. 
Okay, cool. Steve’s going to take one look at you and decide you’re in fact a completely disgusting creature that he absolutely does not find attractive. Great, just great.
Eddie breaks the silence, his voice knocking you out of your trance so quickly you startle yourself, jumping in your seat, “Steve Harrington, to what do we owe the pleasure?” Eddie smirks, shuffling back into the bed of the van until he’s propped up against the side, kicking his legs out flat right across the bottoms of your feet. 
“Just thought I’d come say hi, thought it was your van from back there,” Steve’s nonchalant, shrugging, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he rocks on the balls of his feet, trying and failing to not watch Eddie’s every move as his gangly limbs manoeuvre, “you got anymore?”
Drugs, he means drugs. Could probably smell them a mile off, could tell you were both high just by looking at you, remembered Eddie was a dealer and wanted his own.
You try to hide your disappointment, though your face always had a way of talking for you, and you feel your nose scrunching in distaste before you can stop it. Steve fails to notice, dumbstruck bambi eyes watching Eddie like he wants to — you don’t even know, but it’s almost like he wants to ask something else.
“You want in?” Eddie asks tentatively, seemingly asking the question for Steve like he knew exactly what he wanted to say, holding a fresh rolly up in between his thumb and forefinger like an offering, “We were just about to spark this one up, and I’m sure you could do with the… relaxation after that show you just put on.”
He’s mocking, grinning like the Cheshire cat as Steve flounders, flushes a deep shade of red across his cheeks, but climbs into the van like he’s meant to fucking be there or something, sliding down right next to Eddie close enough that their thighs are touching roughly, the rivulets of water on Steve’s leg clinging to the material of Eddie’s jeans and soaking them in the process.
Eddie’s eyes widen like saucers, like he expected Steve to tell him to fuck off, yet there he was pressed against Eddie like it was the most normal thing in the world. Steve produces a lighter from the pocket of his shorts, plucks the joint from Eddie’s hand like it’s nothing, and presses it between his cherry red, plump lips. Sparks it up and inhales deeply, eyelids fluttering shut, thick eyelashes fanning his cheeks.
Your thighs clench as you watch Steve’s adams apple bob up and down, the vast expanse of his tan neck stretching as his head thumps back, whole body slumping as the sudden nicotine hit relaxes his body. You connect the moles and freckles with your eyes, fingers itching in your lap, resisting the urge to lunge forward and mark him up, connect the beauty marks with your mouth, suck bruises into his skin until he’s whining and begging. 
The air lies heavy between you all, nobody saying a word as you pass the blunt back and forth, your high settling in once more, enough to have you light headed and itching to touch more and more and more. Ten minutes or maybe an hour go past, you’re not too sure which. 
You can tell Eddie is starting to feel the same, from the way his thigh begins jiggling up and down — usually by this point he had a lapful of you, grinding against him and gasping for release as your drug-addled brains melted with the need to touch and to kiss and to fuck.
Steve wiggles in his place next to Eddie, his large palm coming out to slap Eddie’s thigh and keep his leg still, like he’s annoyed by the constant jerking movement, yet his flushed skin and agape mouth tell you otherwise. Somebody whines, needy, and you’re not too sure which one of you it is, but the sound goes straight to your core, has your cunt fluttering. 
Eddie breaks first, pulling you into his lap unceremoniously, your arms instinctively wrapping around his pale shoulders to ground yourself as you’re flung like a ragdoll, his hands digging into the fat of your ass, fingertips pressing almost bruisingly, yet you keen into it, desperate for more.
Your bare calf touches Steve’s thigh, and he’s looking at you like a deer caught in headlights — pretty hazel eyes staring up at you in awe, watching as your body rocks against Eddie’s own, though you don’t dare settle down on his crotch properly, waiting for Steve’s confirmation that he’s good with this.
“Are you okay with this?” You ask, just to be sure, making it clear that you’re not adding two plus two and getting five, needing to know for certain this is what he wants, “Tell me what you’re thinking, Steve.” 
Eddie’s own gaze lands on Steve now, soft and gentle, no teasing on his features anymore, pure sincerity. Steve looks back and forth between you both, bites that fucking lip of his as he ponders.
“I think-” Steve starts, sucking in a breath through clenched teeth, “that I just… really wanna kiss one of you right now.” 
If Eddie’s surprised, drawn back or even nervous, he doesn’t let on, as he leans into Steve’s space with parted lips, a stupid lazy smirk tugging at the corners, enough to make your core ache for him. 
You watch with hazy eyes as they share breath back and forth, two pairs of deep set brown eyes locking and conversing without words as you heave desperately, rutting gently against Eddie’s thigh. His rings bite into the soft skin of your waist, grounding you, letting you know he’s still aware of your presence. 
Steve closes the gap first, slots their lips together and startling a desperate whine from the back of Eddie’s throat — a noise you weren’t even aware he could make. Steve’s large hand runs up along Eddie’s rosy red cheek, fingers splaying and nails raking into Eddie’s scalp as their mouths move together like ripples of water.
It’s beautiful to watch, you can’t look away (as if you even fucking wanted to), your hands bunching into the bottom hem of Eddie’s shirt to help you sway your hips back and forth. Eddie’s sharp tongue peaks out to swipe along Steve’s bottom lip, and Steve surges forward to deepen the kiss, their tongues dancing together as they pant breathily and moan quietly. 
You’re not sure when it happens, but Eddie’s rough hand on your waist begins to guide you against the starchy material of his jeans, like he’s paying just as much attention to you as he is to Steve. 
You take your opportunity, leaning forward to latch your mouth onto Eddie’s exposed collarbone, biting and suckling like a woman starved as you finally, fucking finally let yourself rock against Eddie properly – grinding against his half-hard cock until he’s whining breathily into the kiss, clinging onto your waist. 
Maybe you’re feeling ballsy because of the drugs, or maybe it’s because you’ve just waited forever to get your hands on Steve Harrington, but soon enough your hand is ghosting up his inner thigh, pressing hot and heavy against the sizable bulge in his ridiculously short shorts.
“Y’r both gonna fucking kill me,” Steve groans against Eddie’s lips, breaking the kiss momentarily only for Eddie to surge forward once more and reattach their mouths, and your pussy flutters – hearing Steve so fucked out from the simplest of touches sends a hot, prickly flush up your body, settles in your core. 
Your hand presses more firmly onto Steve’s cock, hips rutting against Eddie’s and they both roll their hips at the same fucking time, pressing into your hand and cunt respectively. Your brain short circuits, lips detaching from Eddie’s collarbone so you can moan, wet and panting against his damp skin.
“You wanna fuck her, Harrington?” Eddie asks, bites at Steve’s bottom lip and Steve keens into it, grunts and fucks his hips up into your hand again. Eddie releases his lip, trails kisses down Steve’s chin and to his jaw, rough and sucking, sure to leave a mark, “She wants you to, I know she does. Fantasises about you wrecking her, think you’re up to the task?” 
Steve nods, feverish and almost pathetic, and you have to question if he’s always like this during sex or if Eddie really just has that effect on him, has Steve reduced to nothing more than a mess as you both finally lock eyes once again, “Please, nggh, please. Wanna fuck you so bad, baby, please? Will you let me?” 
The begging does something to your insides you never would’ve expected, and you’re throwing yourself into Steve’s lap. His hands grab onto your waist, replacing Eddie’s and it’s noticeable, he’s gentle, almost unsure of how to take you – he looks up at you, leans up to press your lips together and you’re unravelling in his arms.
He kisses like a fucking boyfriend, lips gliding against your own just roughly enough to have you melting into it, tongue swiping your bottom lip the same way Eddie did to him just minutes earlier, licking into your mouth and gliding his tongue against your own in this perfect rhythm that has you rutting down into his lap. The thick length of his now fully hard cock nestles perfectly in the cave of your pussy, only covered by three thin layers of clothing. 
You’re delirious with it, hands on his cheeks, fingers buried into his hair as you suck face like you might die if you stop. You can feel Eddie’s intense gaze on you both, his hand slipping in between Steve and your own torsos to tug gently at your loose shirt, pushing it up your chest to expose your tits to the cool air. 
His fingers are everywhere, rubbing and pulling at your nipples, hardening them and sending shockwaves of want and desire down your entire body. Steve disconnects your lips with a string of spit, his eyes hazy and darkened with lust as he bends down to latch onto your tit, sucking and licking it into his mouth like a desperate thing. 
You’re so turned on you might fucking die, rutting against Steve’s clothed erection fast and hard, desperate to feel that catch and drag rough against your clit. 
“Feel good, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, breath hot against the side of your face, mouthing at the sensitive skin below your ear, “Harrington as talented with his mouth as you hoped?” 
“I know now why the ladies love him,” you squeak, unable to contain it when Eddie’s fingers finally leave the swollen bud of your nipple and dip down below, hand hot and heavy as he pushes the offending material of your shorts away so he can press against your cunt, swiping over your clit with two fingers, the back of his palm digging into Steve’s cock in the process.
“Oh my fucking god,” Steve grunts pathetically, bites down on your nipple and punches his hips up into Eddie’s hand, rocks against him for a moment before settling back down again. He pulls off of you with a wet pop, chooses instead to trail kisses up your chest and to your neck that have you moaning unabashedly, “you sound s’fucking pretty, can’t believe it.” 
You can hardly focus on a single thing, ears ringing as pleasure takes over your body. Eddie knows you inside and out, pushes with a perfect pressure on your clit, swiping over it in fast circles as he mutters sweet nothings, coaxing moans and gasps from you with every touch. Steve’s attacking your neck, biting and kissing, leaving a mark in a way that you’d practically wished for for too fucking long.
“Shit, Harrington,” Eddie’s voice raising a little knocks you out of it, his fingers slipping through the wetness of your folds and off of your clit like he was caught off guard, “like it a little rough or somethin’?” 
Your half lidded eyes watch as Steve’s hand grips at Eddie’s thigh, ghosting closer and closer to the inside seam until Eddie breaks, uses his free hand to pop the button on his jeans and shuck them down his thighs, finally allowing his cock the damn release from those tight pants.
Eddie resumes his motions on your clit properly once he’s done shuffling, “Sorry, sweetheart.” He apologises, swirling the tips of his fingers over the bundle of nerves fast enough to have you seeing stars, “Know you well enough to know it won’t take you long, anyway.”
He’s right. The slick noises of your pussy being worked over invade your ears, the deep blooming in your core rising quickly as Eddie sets an almost brutal rhythm, desperate to get you there. You cling onto Steve’s biceps as he sucks another bruise just below your jaw, hot mouth leaving your skin finally, letting up so that you can breathe, if only a little.
You’re not sure why it shocks you when Steve spits into his palm like it’s nothing, wraps a firm hand around the length of Eddie’s cock like he’s done it a million times before but it does, and suddenly you’re flushing hot all over, the visual of Eddie’s eyes shutting and mouth falling open in a grunt the last thing you see before your eyes squeeze shut, your orgasm wracking your body with such force that you slump into Steve’s front — head on his shoulder, hips stuttering as Eddie works you through it.
“That’s it, honey, oh shit,” Steve’s voice sounds strained as he watches you stain the front of his shorts with your release, his hand heavy on your waist as you ride Eddie’s hand, his wrist glistening in the light, “you’re both so hot, fuck me.” 
You flush at Steve’s words, whining in the back of your throat, “Sensitive, Eds,” you squeal, hips jerking back and away from Eddie’s hand – you get why he’s slow to move, when you see how Steve’s jerking his cock, how Eddie’s hips are fucking up into it, the dark red head leaking down his shaft and coating Steve’s fingers. 
“Sorry, sweetheart,” Eddie’s apologetic as his hand moves, though he’s so breathy and fucked out that you can tell he’s hardly paying enough attention to care, “get your fucking dick out, Steve.” 
Your trembling hands do it for him, and Steve willingly lifts his hips up to let you pull the offending material down. His cock springs out and — oh, oh fuck.
He’s so fucking big it makes your mouth water, so heavy under it’s own weight that it sits flush against Steve’s toned, heaving belly as he sucks in sharp breaths, slightly curved to the side and cut, the head almost purple with need, soaking wet with his own precum.
“Of course you’ve got a monster cock,” Eddie grunts, rolling his eyes, no heat to his words when Steve squeezes him tighter, jerks the head, flicks his thumb over the slit, “would’ve sworn you’d touched a hundred dicks with how good you are at it, fuuuck.” 
“You’re gonna give me a goddamn complex,” Steve moans, stripping Eddie’s cock faster until the other man is literally shaking in his spot, hips vibrating, and you’ve seen this a million times — Eddie is close.
“Stop— mmph, stop, gotta stop,” Eddie pants, scrambling to halt Steve’s motions on his dick, which Steve does without a second thought, though his hand still lays loosely on the base as it pulses, slit weeping, “I’m gonna blow my fucking load if you keep doing that shit.” 
There’s a heavy silence between you all for a moment, exchanged looks that say more than words probably could in such a highly charged situation — it’s like Steve was always here, the way he slots in and understands exactly what’s going on like he’d been with you both before in this way. It makes your heart clench, makes your tummy do flips.
You climb from Steve’s lap, rid yourself of your shorts and soiled panties whilst Steve and Eddie shuffle themselves around – Steve lying down, head propped up on the two sad looking pillows Eddie always kept around, and Eddie on his knees at Steve’s side. 
It’d be truly ridiculous to look at from an outsider's perspective, like a bad porno movie, but you’re all so turned on that you can’t see past the want to care enough, as you climb back into Steve’s lap and resume your position.
“Want you to fuck me now,” you murmur, doe eyed and desperate as you cling to Steve’s shirt, rocking down onto his dick again, spreading your wetness over his shaft, “please, Steve?” 
Steve whines pathetically, grabs a hold of his dick by the base, hazards a guess at where your opening is and fails miserably, unable to see anything at this angle. You try to help, wiggling your hips until the fat head catches on your clit — you both groan, a slight tinge of laughter in yours from the absurdity of it all.
“Damn Steve, can’t even find her pussy when it’s right in front of you,” Eddie huffs impatiently, yet his words are full of arousal you swear you’ve never heard, licking his wet, plump lips as he leans over to grab the base of Steve’s cock, slides the head against your wet cunt until you’re both whining and gasping for it, “sit on him then, sweetheart. Take his big cock like the good girl you are, yeah?” 
Steve grips onto the meat of your thighs as you sink down, gasping at the sheer stretch — Steve really was bigger than Eddie and nothing could’ve prepared you for the intrusion. Your cunt leaks down his shaft, down Eddie’s hand until he’s removing it so you can sink down completely, adjusting to the stretch by wiggling your hips. 
You can tell Steve is trying to keep his composure and failing miserably, if the way he’s grunting through his clenched teeth is anything to go by. You seize the opportunity, clamp your walls down around his length deliberately until he’s sputtering, grappling onto your skin even tighter, “D-don’t, can’t do that — I’ll come so fucking quick,” he gasps, staring up at you with wild eyes. 
Eddie barks out a laugh from the side of you, and you can tell it’s from the sheer satisfaction – knowing that even though Steve’s cock is bigger there’s no way he’s going to be as good at fucking you as Eddie. Of course that’ll feed his ego, the town freak being better at fucking than Hawkins’ own certified slut.
“Go on, sweetheart. Show him what your pretty little cunt can do,” Eddie’s encouraging you, one hand loosely holding the base of his own cock, the other now placed on the small of your back, a grounding movement that keeps you from losing it all together.
You grip onto Steve’s broad shoulders, nails biting into the skin as you use your knees for leverage, take the first aching drag up the length of his cock. You feel like you’re being split apart from the inside, the dull hurting so fucking good that you’re sick with it.
“Oh fuck, that’s it, baby,” Steve’s eyebrows marry together as he watches you take him in fucking awe or something, unable to tear his eyes away from where you’re sinking up and down on him. 
It’s torturously slow whilst you adjust to him, a tentative bounce and rock motion until your pussy is soaked from the constant press on your gspot. 
You speed up your movements and Steve is all but wailing and begging beneath you, Eddie looming over the top of him and tugging lazily at his own cock, almost like he’s not entirely sure what he wants to do — or what he’s allowed to do.
Steve looks up at him, ripping his eyes away from your pussy sucking him in, leaving behind creamy rings of release on his shaft. He’s wide eyed and almost manic, watching as Eddie fucks his fist, “Put it– put it in my mouth, I wanna. Wanna suck you off.”
Eddie chokes on his own tongue momentarily, eyes bugging out of his head at Steve’s request, “You – I, what?” He laughs incredulously, though he’s already shuffling up next to Steve’s head, and Steve moves with him, craning his neck to the side and opening his mouth wide, tongue lolling out. Eddie fists a handful of Steve’s hair, sliding his cock into Steve’s mouth with an obscene fluidity, “You really are a fuckin’ slut, huh?” 
Steve moans around his mouthful, nods what little he can manage as Eddie begins to rock in and out, building a slow rhythm, the loud slurping noises of Steve’s saliva adding to the noise of your soaked pussy fucking down onto him. You’re so turned on it hurts, the sight of them both together has you closing in on your second orgasm quickly, with a lightning speed.
The sound of wet skin, from sweat and ungodly amounts of body fluid is so loud you’re sure anybody within a five mile radius could hear you all, and that does something to your insides that you don’t think you could admit to out loud. Steve’s large hands move your hips, help you along as you bounce quicker on his cock, chasing your high, and you have to hand it to him that he’s a seriously good multitasker. 
“You’re fucking — God, can’t believe you’re sucking me like this,” Eddie cries, ever the one to be so fucking vocal, and it’s clear as day he’s close to the edge already, “so fucking talented with that mouth — oh fuck, keep doing that. Yeah, yeah, oh fuck.” 
“I hate you both so fucking much,” you gasp, arching your back and crying out as you bounce up and down on Steve’s cock in short, snappy motions. Steve grunts, fingernails biting into your hip, a clear sign that he wants you to keep doing that, and you do, “I’m-I’m, shit m’gonna cum –!” 
It hits you like a goddamn freight train, your thighs trembling, hands gripping and nails biting at Steve’s abs as you come, gushing wet and walls fluttering as the feeling settles deep in your stomach. Your legs give up on you, body turning to jello within seconds.
Eddie can’t take his eyes off of you, watching you with such intensity that you feel his eyes basically burning holes into your head. You’re sure he doesn’t even blink as you rock through it, tits bouncing and mouth agape in the most delicious moans. 
Steve’s patience wears thin, his hips fucking up into you from below, hands moving you on and off of his cock as if you’re a fucking ragdoll, but he’s not even really paying attention to you — he’s focused on Eddie, mouthing heavily at the other mans dick, taking and taking it as Eddie feeds it to him with nothing more than a few moans and grunts.
“Need to cum, let me cum on your face,” Eddie begs, tears his eyes from you finally to ask Steve the damn question, rutting into his mouth jerkily, practically sobbing as he reaches the end, “wanna ruin you so bad, fuck, please?” 
Steve’s so far gone, nestled so tight in your pussy and drunk on it that he’d agree to anything, nods what little he can and Eddie takes barely a second to slip from Steve’s mouth. Tightens his fist around his own cock as he jerks it messily above Steve’s face.
“Your pussy is like heaven, fuck,” Steve grunts, voice worn and fucked out from being stuffed full for so long, and you’re so overstimulated you barely register what he’s doing, brain fuzzy. His fingers dig into your hips tight enough to bruise as he fucks you so hard you’re seeing stars, “cumming, I’m fucking cumming.” 
Steve forces you down so hard on his cock that you wail, clinging onto him for dear life as he pulses deep inside of you, coating your insides with his release. You swear you’ve fucking died and gone to heaven or something, with how good it feels.
Eddie grunts from his place in front of you, “so fucking hot, shit, shit, oh fuck,” blurting from his mouth as he comes, his load shooting so far it kind of misses Steve’s face all together and instead spurts down his neck and chest. 
A long wave of silence washes over you all as you all come down, a mess of sweaty limbs, coated in each others sex. You know the van had ought to fucking reek of it, the sheets below you all soaked and soiled. None of you find it in you to care as you pant heavily, hands all over each other as some weird form of aftercare, stroking and touching.  
“Steve, where’s your car, man?” Eddie asks, breaking the silence yet again from where he’d finally slumped back on his ass next to Steve’s head.
Steve looks at Eddie like he’s stupid, furrowing his brows, “My car? Dude, I ran here. It’s only, like, six miles or something from my house, it’s not exactly far.” 
You cackle loudly from your place in between Steve’s legs, “And you called me stupid for insinuating somebody walked out here!” 
Eddie rolls his eyes, flips you both the bird, though there’s a little quirk on the corners of his lips.
You’re not sure what’ll happen from here, if anything at all, but the comforting aura you feel is enough to have you guessing that maybe it’s far from the final time.
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to anybody who read this and took a chance on it, thank you all so much! this has been a little labour of love and i actually started on it before christmas, it was meant to be nothing more than a quick little smut fic but i felt it needed more. thank you all in advance for any likes, reblogs and sweet comments you leave, it means the absolute world.
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jeannineee · 7 months
Text
Closure (Ⅲ)
Azriel x Reader
a/n: part three!! Comment if you’d like to be added to part four :) quickly proofread, sorry for any errors
Requests are open for headcanons/short blurbs
ALSO IM A BIT NERVOUS ABOUT WHETHER OR NOT THIS PART IS GOOD SO YALL LMK PLS
Part 1
Part 2
PART FOUR
warnings: angst, allusions to sex (18+ please)
“What are you and Azriel doing?”
Mor’s question drew your attention from the book in your hands. You sat up on the couch, hugging your knees to your chest.
“I don’t know.”
That was the truth. You had no idea. It had been a few days since that evening with Azriel in the Hewn City. Unsurprisingly, he hadn’t spoken to you since.
Mor sighed, taking a seat on the couch beside you. “I thought you said you ended things with him.”
“I—I did. But…” you trailed off, fidgeting with the spine of your book. “…I can’t stay away from him.”
“Because he’s your mate.” Mor said. A statement, not a question.
Shock was written all over your face. “How did you know that?”
“Anyone with a brain can see it. Except for Azriel, apparently.”
You looked away, finding sudden interest in Feyre’s family painting on the wall. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Why?” Mor’s voice was soft, understanding.
“Because he is only interested in Elain.”
Mor went silent for several moments. “I think Azriel feels he isn’t worthy of you.”
“That’s nonsense.”
Mor snorted, twirling her golden hair around her forefinger. “Trust me, I know. But as long as I’ve known him, Azriel has always thought himself to be a bastard-born nobody, undeserving of anything good.”
Something in your soul ached at that. You knew Azriel had issues with his self-esteem, but you didn’t realize just how much it affected him.
At your silence, Mor continued, “Despite his inferiority complex, his behavior is uncalled for. He shouldn’t be stringing you along while entertaining Elain.”
“I know.”
“And you need to grow a backbone.”
You glared. “I have a backbone.”
“Not with Azriel, you don’t.”
You couldn’t argue with that, as much as you hated to admit it. Perhaps it was the bond, that made you so weak to his advances. Perhaps it was your own naïveté.
“Do you…” You swallowed thickly, the question catching in your throat. “Do you think he knows about the bond?”
“I’m not sure.”
~~~~~~~~
Later in the day, you retired to your bedroom, after spending a few hours training with Nesta and Cassian. You loosed a sigh of relief and contentment as you settled into a warm bath, the scent of lavender and eucalyptus wafting through the air.
Normally, a bath would be enough to relax you, and calm your thoughts. But Azriel weighed heavily on your mind. As did your conversation with Mor.
Half an hour passed by, filled with overthinking. Scowling, you rose from the bathtub, wrapping a towel around your form, and headed into your bedroom.
Before you could enter your closet, a knock sounded on your door. You didn’t need to hear his voice to know who it was.
“Y/n.” Azriel called from the hall. “Can I come in?”
You replaced the towel with a silk robe, and sat on the edge of your bed. “Come in.”
Azriel silently entered your room, his shadows much more active than normal. The shadows only behaved that way when he spent time with Elain—they disappeared in her presence.
Yet the shadows reveled in yours.
If the shadows weren’t hint enough as to where Azriel had been earlier in the day, Elain’s flowery scent ensnared your senses. You swallowed down bile.
The Shadowsinger cleared his throat, leaning back against the dresser that stood against the wall, a few feet away from you.
“Did you need something?” You asked him.
Azriel chuckled. “Do I need an excuse to see you?”
You fidgeted with your hands. “I have things to do, so…”
“It doesn’t seem like it,” Azriel replied, taking a step forward. His shirt was unbuttoned just enough to reveal the tanned, muscular chest beneath, and the black, swirling tattoos that marked his skin. “I just wanted to check on you.”
“How kind.” You didn’t bother hiding the annoyance you felt.
“Did I do something wrong?”
You snorted. “Why are you so hot and cold with me? One moment, you’re trying to get me into your bed, and the next, you’re ignoring me for weeks at a time. Why?”
“I have other responsibilities to attend to outside of our friendship.”
You knew those ‘responsibilities’ likely included time spent with Elain. But you didn’t voice that.
Azriel continued, “You know, you can come to me, too. It doesn’t always have to be me who initiates conversation.”
“You’re never around. You don’t tell me where you are, what you’re doing.”
“As I said, I have responsibilities,” Azriel said, before sitting on the bed beside you.
“That’s a piss-poor excuse,” you muttered, not daring to look him in the eye, despite the bond urging you to do so.
Azriel scoffed. “I don’t know what you want from me.”
At that, you whipped your head towards him. “I want my friend back. I want…” You stopped yourself before the next words could leave you.
You wanted him. Wanted—needed more than friendship. You needed your mate. But instead, you repeated, “I want my friend back.”
“You have me,” Azriel said, reaching a hand to cup your face.
Your eyes fluttered shut as he swiped his thumb over your cheekbone. Damn him.
Part of you wanted to protest—to push him away. But each time he touched you, it felt as though every broken piece of you was being put back into place.
“You have me,” Azriel murmured again, brushing his lips against your forehead. He placed a soft kiss to each of your cheeks before his lips melded to your own.
Elain’s flowery scent filled your nose once again, yanking you back into reality. You abruptly broke away from the kiss, rising to your feet.
“Y-You should leave,” you sputtered out, furiously readjusting your hair, your robe.
“Do you not want to…?” Azriel let the question hang as he too, stood from your bed.
“Are you serious?” You spat the question. The casualness in his words, his actions sent you into a white-hot, blind rage. “Not when I can smell Elain all over you.”
Azriel stiffened, but didn’t respond.
You laughed, but the sound was devoid of any humor. “I don’t know what I was even thinking.”
The bond. It had to be the bond, making you forget yourself with him. He still smelled like Elain, for fuck’s sake. For that alone, you would’ve sent lesser males running.
“It always comes back to Elain,” Azriel said, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Shouldn’t it? How can you—do you even understand what you’re doing to me?”
Azriel looked taken aback. He opened and closed his mouth, coming short of a reply.
You debated simply kicking Azriel out of your room, and leaving it at that. But all the emotions of the last several weeks came bubbling to the surface, threatening to spill over. So you let the words fly out, consequences he damned.
“You are hurting me, Azriel. You—each time you come to me, only to turn around and go to Elain? That fucking hurts. It’s confusing, and I don’t deserve it.”
You loosed a breath, continuing, “I don’t know what you do with her. I don’t know what you feel for her. I don’t care anymore. Just leave me out of it, because it’s hurting me.”
You braced yourself. Braced yourself for a screaming match; an argument. Part of you thought that maybe he’d even laugh at you.
Instead, Azriel merely walked out of your room in silence.
That was far worse.
~~~~~~~~
“What’s got Azriel so pissed off?” Cassian asked you from where he stood on the balcony, nursing a mug of coffee.
“Y/n put him in his place last night,” Nesta interjected, her voice lined with amusement. “Poor Illyrian baby couldn’t take it.”
Cassian grinned. “Rhysie will have a field day when he hears about this.”
You rolled your eyes, staring down at the glass of water in your hands. “Yes, laugh at my turmoil,” you muttered sarcastically.
Nesta and Cassian shared a laugh at that, before the former patted your back comfortingly. “Don’t worry. We’ll go to Rita’s tonight and make you forget all about it.”
~~~~~~~~
Unfortunately, Nesta’s idea of “making you forget all about it” included her running off with Cassian into the bathroom after an entire thirty minutes at Rita’s, leaving you alone at your booth, stone-cold sober and mildly annoyed.
After another ten minutes of sitting alone like an outcast, you were prepared to call it quits.
That was, until Eris Vanserra slid into the seat across from you, two mixed drinks in hand.
“Y/n,” he greeted with a smirk, sliding you one of the drinks. “It’s been a while.”
“Not long enough,” you muttered as you took a large swig from your glass.
Eris chuckled, amusement lining his expression. “Always the charmer. How’ve you been?”
“I’m fine. What are you doing in Velaris?”
“Tsk. Not even going to ask how I’m doing?”
You stared.
Eris sighed dramatically, though you noticed his lips twitching up in a smile. “Alright. I’m here for a few days. Just visiting.”
“I highly doubt you’re ‘just visiting.’”
“Believe what you want.” Eris mused, leaning forward, resting his chin on his hands. He studied you for a moment, before adding, “You seemed a bit lonely. No males around to warm your bed?”
You took another gulp of your drink. “My bed is of no concern to you.”
Eris grinned, undeterred by your disinterest. “Come on. Loosen up. Play with me.”
Perhaps it was the alcohol kicking in a bit sooner than normal. Or perhaps it was your determination to get Azriel off of your mind. You didn’t particularly care to find out as you replied, “What do I get if I do?”
Eris’s grin became feline. “Whatever you want.”
~~~~~~~~
The first thing that greeted you when you awoke the next morning was a pounding headache. You were never drinking again.
Your grogginess quickly eddied into panic as you realized Eris was sleeping beside you. If you pulled away the blanket that covered the lower half of his form, you were almost certain he’d be—
“It’s not polite to stare,” Eris murmured tiredly, his abs rippling as he sat up in bed, the blanket that previously covered his form sliding away.
You quickly averted your gaze, and rose from the bed, throwing on the nearest piece of clothing.
“My shirt looks lovely on you,” Eris mused, still lounging on your bed as though he owned it.
Your cheeks flushed. You cleared you throat, attempting to find any amount of dignity within yourself as you said, “You should probably leave.”
Eris chuckled. “Don’t worry, I won’t overstay my welcome.” He stood from the bed, and dressed himself. You prepared to return his shirt, but he halted you. “It looks better on you. Keep it.”
You cursed yourself as your cheeks flushed an even deeper color.
“I have to return home this afternoon,” Eris explained as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “But if you ever want a repeat of last night…”
You gave him a pointed look. “Eris, as much as I enjoyed—“
“Oh, I know you enjoyed it. Multiple times. You were quite vocal in showing it.”
“As much as I enjoyed it,” you began again with slight annoyance, “I think it best that we don’t do this again.”
Eris shrugged, unfazed. “That’s fine. You were a lot of fun,” he replied as he prepared to leave your room. “For what it’s worth, though, you are…nice to be around.”
You supposed that was the closest you were getting to a compliment from him.
You opened your mouth to respond, but Eris left before you could.
~~~~~~~~
The coffee you drank was a welcome remedy for your headache. Tiredness still gnawed at you from where you sat at the dining table, allowing your thoughts to wander.
You didn’t particularly regret last night. Eris was…fun. A distraction, even. Perhaps you’d take him up on his offer, in the future.
“Next time you bring a male over, at least have the decency to sneak him out,” Azriel said from behind you, his face frozen with rage.
You laughed. Laughed, to your own surprise. “I dealt with centuries of you, Mor, and Cassian bringing people home. Cope.”
The finality in your tone seemed to piss Azriel off even more. “You even smell like him, for Cauldron’s sake.”
It was then that you realized you still wore Eris’s shirt. Again, you didn’t particularly care. “Good,” you spat out as you stood from your chair. “Maybe now you’ll know how I feel when you smell like Elain.”
“Did you fuck him?”
You weren’t sure why he asked. He already knew the answer.
“What does it matter?”
“Did you?”
“Did you fuck Elain?”
Azriel went silent.
“Allow me to make one thing clear, Azriel,” you started, taking a step closer to him. “I am not yours. You are not mine. What I do, with anyone, is none of your business. Just as what you do, is no concern of mine.”
You ignored the way the bond hammered against your chest in protest. The way you could feel his hurt surging through you like a tidal wave. Good. Let him feel what you’ve felt for months, now.
Azriel didn’t respond. Typical.
You started to leave, but Azriel’s next words had your breath catching short in your lungs.
“I know about the bond.”
You weren’t breathing. It felt as though the floor had been swept out from under you.
You turned back around, facing him. “What?”
“I’ve known for almost a year.”
A year. He’s known longer than you have.
You couldn’t bring yourself to form a proper response—you could hardly think over the roaring in your head.“Then why would you—Elain—what?”
Azriel took a step forward, to which you immediately stepped back.
Azriel began, “There is no excuse—“
“You’re right,” you sneered, “there is no excuse.”
“I’m sorry—“
“Save it.”
Azriel’s throat bobbed. He reached out a hand, as if to caress your face. “Y/n—“
“Do not presume to touch me. Ever again.”
You hurried out of the dining room before you could further register the anguish on Azriel’s face.
The bond made you feel it all, anyway.
~~~~~~~~
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adonis-koo · 4 months
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wicked • 17
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↳ Summary: In a desperate hope to stop war from breaking you are a serviced to wed the most vile man alive, the one who has committed atrocities and war crimes beyond comprehension, he who is responsible for the fall of many nations, the wicked prince who’s heart is made of stone. You are to marry a man who challenges every belief and moral you stand for, all while being faced in a foreign land with nobody but yourself too trust…But are you both truly that different? Or is hate not too far from love?
↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader
↳ Genre: arranged marriage AU, enemies to lovers, it’s kind of a period AU??? Historical but also technically not? prince!AU, eventual smut
Word Count: 8k
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Note: it’s actually difficult to believe it’s been eight months since I’ve updated, went through two jobs, a friend group and a boyfriend who gaslit the absolute fuck out of me and made me experience female hysteria 😍 I wrote this chapter the night he broke up with me so it just has that nice little extra touch of ✨ intensity ✨ enjoy lovies and I will be back hopefully sooner then last time with another update
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It felt wrong, packing a small case of clothes while so many things at the castle had yet to play out, and Wheein’s life was hanging in the balance of it.
You had no intentions to trudge your way to the barracks but here you were; early morning where all of the guards were training and the person you were looking for was watching them, hands on his hips as he called out to one of them to tighten their guard.
You hadn’t planned on talking to him today, but leaving without so much as saying a word felt wrong, and perhaps after everything that had happened you were searching for sober reassurance.
“Jungkook.”
Everybody froze at the sound of your voice, you ignored all the eyes on you, after having lived in Penumbra for almost a year, you had somewhere along the way gotten used to all of the eyes that constantly followed you.
The guards exchanged awkward glances with one another, Jungkook looked surprised by your appearance, eyes glancing over you as if you were a hallucination, but after a moment it was evident you weren’t going to disappear upon blinking.
He glanced between you and the guards before he waved them off, “Keep going.”
You couldn’t stand the hopeful look in his eyes, almost a bit bashful as you walked in line with him further away from the barracks, “How can you expect me to leave the castle when Wheein is in a dungeon? And furthermore sending your aunt to try and reconcile with me?”
Jungkook frowned, “Well I doubted you wanted to see me after my drunk display- which truth be told I hardly remember anything I said, and It’s probably for the best that I don’t, Y/n…” He sighed as he stopped, “It was only a suggestion, it crossed my mind about the estate because truthfully I think you would like it there, and it would be safe,” His hands tenderly grabbed your shoulders as your lips curled in anger but you said nothing, “And I think it would be good for you to put all of this out of your head for a few days. I’ll continue to handle things here and if things change with Wheein trust that I’ll be able to take care of it.”
Your expression didn’t change as Jungkook frowned, “I would also like to remind you that she’s been one of my closest friends since I was a child. You’re not the only one who cares for her.”
You begrudgingly looked away from him but your expression softened, a stab of guilt surging through your stomach at the realization that he was very much right, “I know, I’m sorry I just-”
“Don’t be,” Jungkook replied, “You have a mean bite but I can appreciate your loyalty. I can’t undo the past but I want to make things right. I…” Jungkook paused, looking hesitant his eyes darting away from you and then back to you once more.
You offered no words forcing him to sigh, as if it was difficult for him to admit, “I want to be with you Y/n, not as two people amicable due to marriage or friends on uneasy terms…” He bit down on his cheek, unable to hold your steely gaze as his hand hesitantly reached out, tenderly stroking along your jawline, “I want more than that with you, I want all of the fire and all of the rage, I want the pain, the hardships. I want you, all of you, every flaw that makes you, you.”
You hadn’t even realized your eyes had blurred until his thumbs were tenderly pushing your tears away, “Is this a declaration?”
“It’s a promise.” Jungkook’s eyes held such a softness in them filled with something you still felt uncertain to assume, “You told me that you wanted to bear the deepest parts of yourself to me, all of your insecurities, the parts you don’t like about yourself, the parts you may even hate, so I am standing here to tell you to show me, show me all of it, and I will still take you as you are.”
He was saying many overwhelming words to you, but you knew he was dancing around the most important word, you could see it in his eyes, how it lingered on the tip of his tongue.
But something was stopping him from truly confessing it.
Perhaps even after all of these months, it was still too soon.
Evidently so given your circumstances.
“I don’t want you away from me,” Jungkook admitted, a frown slowly forming on his lips, “But if that’s what it takes, I would wait a lifetime if it meant your forgiveness, if it meant a second chance to be with you.”
“Is that why you’re willing to send me away?” You sniffled, “Otherwise you’ll continue to drink and wake me up in the middle of the night?”
“It wasn’t my finest moment,” Jungkook gave a weak smile, “But you can’t deny it got my point across didn’t it?”
Just his smile made something in you crumble, a vast desire to embrace him here and to forgive him, surely you could put this all behind you…?
But a bigger part of you didn’t want to rush this, you didn’t want to be complacent anymore, that was how you got into this situation, how you immediately jumped to Claudin’s offer rather than confide in the person you were married to.
It was such a raw feeling, you could feel it licking at your very soul, trying to tame your desire to throw all caution to the wind once more.
And for a brief moment you could feel Jungkook have the same reaction as you, as if it took every fiber in his being to not beg you to stay, you don’t know if you could stand your ground against him again if he came on as strong as he had last night.
“Just for a few days.” You whispered out as he frowned, giving you an understanding nod.
“You’ll love it there.” His hands finally let go of you, somewhat reluctantly.
And then it was silent for a long moment, tension still lingering in the air and both of you clearly hesitant.
“Then…I’ll see you in a few days.” You mumbled and Jungkook nodded once more. It felt like the ground was trying to engulf your feet as you turned around, feeling oddly empty at your goodbye, waiting for something that wouldn’t come.
What was it you had hoped for? A hug…?
Maybe a kiss…?
But then again, it felt as though you were no longer deserving of those things, Jungkook may have done things to hurt you but you had also done things to hurt him, how could you both love one another if you couldn’t trust one another first?
You wished Jungkook had reached out for you, to at least give you some form of affection before leaving, but he also knew this was true, and let you leave with no grief.
It left you feeling empty inside, but this was for the best.
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You journeyed over horseback for the day, trying to leave your fretting heart behind as you nervously glanced back at the far away sight of the castle, what if something developed with Wheein?
You felt as though you were betraying her just by leaving, more than anything you were desperate to get her back, perhaps that was why Jungkook was sending you away, as if he sensed your desperation would only heighten the longer this went on.
Dare you say, he feared the worst might happen if you stayed.
Your grip tightened on your reigns, once more trying to put it out of your mind, taking a deep breath you took in the heady scent of the pine tree’s the surrounded you, the Estate was much closer to the mountains then you had anticipated, by midday you had journeyed far enough that snow had already reached the ground.
“Are you nervous?” Yoongi had slowed his horse down to ride next to you, his eyes however still scoured ahead for possible danger.
“What do you mean?” You frowned as you glanced at his back, hearing a branch snap as your eyes darted towards the left of him.
Your faithful companion Fenrir having accidentally broke the branch he had been carrying in his mouth the past hour he had grown fond of, a whine leaving him in disappointment as he picked up the bigger side.
“Journeying away from the castle during these trying times…” Yoongi glanced back at you, a frown of his own, “It can’t be easy leaving with everything that’s happened.”
You didn’t reply for a long moment, Yoongi slowed down to ride beside you as he curiously took in your expression.
It was silent for a long moment before you finally relented, “It is difficult, but…After a long night, I figured this was probably best. It seems like my involvement in things only tends to make them worse. And truthfully there's no telling what lengths I’d go to at this point to get Wheein back.”
“Oh?” Yoongi looked curiosity once more, “I didn’t realize you had such a taste for danger.”
His joke made a smile finally tug on your lips, “Neither did I before coming to Penumbra. It seems this kingdom has a way of bringing out the primitive nature in me. But then again, it seems people have always looked down on me when I think of it.”
“On you?” Yoongi scoffed in amusement, “Dryad Matron of Eunoia? It’s difficult to believe, you’re like a pillar of light to the commonwealth of Penumbra, it used to drive the Prince nuts during your engagement.”
“It did…?” You peered somewhat hesitantly at him.
This made Yoongi grin, “Oh yes, when news of your engagement first broke out it had the people ecstatic, it had him gagging every second he heard good things of you.”
“This is hardly making me feel better…” You winced, though a small part of you was amused to hear this, though you wish you could say the same.
It always seemed to you that people in Penumbra didn’t fully grasp just how much people feared them on the outside world, instead poking fun at the titles they had earned as if it was a little joke.
The whole two years of your engagement are two years you’d rather die then live through again, the anxiety that kept you up at night, the endless amounts of tears you cried, the emptiness it left inside you how no one even tried to comfort you.
Looking back you understood, nobody wanted to feed you lies to comfort you, but at the time, you didn’t understand, it felt cruel.
“Not everyone feels that way about me, evidently from what I saw in the Underside.” You replied, somewhat reminiscing on the horrendous memory of the mock version of you.
“You shouldn’t pay that any mind,” Yoongi scoffed, “The humor is juvenile there, everything it stands for is juvenile, even it’s name; the Underside was a joke, a mockery meant for every royal that has to say it’s name with seriousness, point being- they don’t respect anyone who won’t give them money.”
You only shook your head, “It’s not just that though, there has always been a small part of people and court alike who haven’t liked me, even long before I was engaged to Jungkook. I was known for having a temper,” It made you smile wryly, “-The Bitch of Eunoia, that’s what they ran around calling me behind my back. It was horrendous in Kimhae.”
“Was it now?” Yoongi looked amused by this, “That in some ways does, and doesn’t surprise me.”
“The court ladies in Eunoia often liked to call me that as well. But it was very pronounced by Kimhae court men. When I was younger, I used to wear traditional Eunoian attire when i’d visit. Apparently shoulders and knee’s used to drive them crazy. I had one of the aristocrats boldly ask me if I was an exotic woman of the night, willing to pay for me.”
Yoongi’s jaw had dropped making you laugh as he gestured you on, “What did you say?”
“Something along the lines of calling him a perverted old man whom ought to have his loins cut off for making such a comment to a women- let alone a Princess.” The memory made you smile as you shook your head, “The Bitch of Eunoia…why is it men are allowed to be angry Yoongi? Why is it women are shamed so?”
Yoongi let out a hum, “This is indeed a good question, but perhap it’s because they know a woman's scorn could even bring heaven out of the sky. I’m not all too surprised about Kimhae- but you said Eunoians called you this as well?”
Your smile became saddened, “By many court ladies yes,” You scratched your cheek in thought, “I was always lonely as a child…the war took a toll on me, I was temperamental and childish. But the court ladies as children, also liked to mock me and egg me on. As we grew older they grew closer and I still stayed a distance away. They’d find any reason to pick me apart or give me more work to do. They were practically leaping for joy when the news broke that I was engaged.”
“Why do you think that was though?” Yoongi asked, “That they didn’t like you?”
You shrugged, you had never really thought about it much, rather you preferred to keep the past where it was rather then dwell on it, “I suppose it had a lot to do with the fact that while we were all training to be healers I excelled more at it, it came naturally to me and they ended up putting me in the tents before the others. They all assumed it was from favoritism…Maybe it was,” You pondered on this briefly, “I just remember thinking it wasn’t fair.”
“Fair?”
You didn’t elaborate on the word for a long moment, feeling something akin to guilt bubble in your stomach.
You glanced off into the distance where the mountains towered high, it made you feel so tiny in comparison to its greatness, and briefly you felt awe.
You always admired nature, how vast it was compared to you and all your humanly troubles, you turned to it and it’s kin when you needed comfort and in these moments you could turn to it when you were also troubled with words.
It was difficult to adequately explain to people the rage you had felt since you were a child, anger had always been in your bones, from the moment you were born. Your mother used to tell you, that when she gave birth, you had come out of her womb with a roaring cry.
You craved to be vulnerable, to be soft and tender, to be all the things you were not, and you were many things, just not those.
Many people people heard you, they just never listened, didn’t understand.
“I had a lot of resentment as a child, to everything, the war, my parents, our country. I didn’t want to be a healer, I didn’t want to have to watch people in my care die, I didn’t want to attend the burnings or hear the whales of agony and pain, the cries of mourning, the people who blamed me for not being able to save their loved ones.”
You would be lying if you said you didn’t feel haunted by those memories, watching the lifeforce leave someone's body as you tried to stop the bleeding, the maimed limbs and mangled bodies that were beyond your skill or help.
“I didn’t want to be made to go past our lesson times to keep studying, or made to go back in to practice when all the other girls were allowed to play. Or put in a tent over night while they all slept. It wasn’t fair.”You mumbled, perhaps still a lingering tone of resentment.
The past was the past, it couldn’t be changed, you had come to terms with this, but if you stopped and really thought about it, old feelings old eventually begin to resurface, it was why you tried so desperately to just forget about it.
At one time you blamed Penumbra, you hated it’s people for what they did, what they caused.
But then you married Jungkook and you journeyed here yourself, and saw with your own eyes, that these people, were simply people, who were also victims of their own royalty.
You felt the soft grip of a hand on your shoulder, “I am sorry, for what it’s worth,” Yoongi held a face of sympathy, “We all felt the same, or…I suppose a mutual feeling on the opposite side of things. Children being forced to enlist into a war we didn’t want to wage with little choice…”
You gently grabbed his hand giving it a small squeeze, a weak smile on your face, “It wasn’t fair for any of us. We’re all a bi-product of our parents' sins. It’s up to us now to break that cycle.”
You had arrived to the estate by nightfall and it was shrouded in tall pine and fir trees, the aroma had you closing your eyes for a moment to savor it, just as Jungkook said, it truly was beautiful.
Snow covered the ground in a few inches, and a chill was left in your bones, but you settled in rather nicely, Yoongi had managed to get a fire going rather quickly and it was quiet in the solitude of the estate.
For once, it was nice to be able to breathe without being watched.
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The first two days had went by surprisingly quick, but you had found a natural rhythm in nature, you went on long peaceful walks, kept yourself wrapped in a blanket while sitting on the terrace taking in the crisp cool air.
You had even spent the evening watching the snowfall outside, enchanted at how it came in big fluttering puffy balls, you had heard of snow before, but you had never actually seen it fall from the sky, like a thousand little gifts from the heavens.
It was dull and gray out today, the same as it had been for the last week now, at the estate was unsurprisingly no different.
Today however you had Yoongi set up some haybales in the pit area where guards would typically be trained, it was run down now, old boxes used as storage had been broken down and were hazardously strewn everywhere, long nine inch rusty nails sticking out of wooden pieces at razor sharp jagged angles.
But with Yoongi’s help you both had piled it up safely away and got a decent bit of space ready for training.
“Too stiff-”
“Ah!”
It was a second too late, you had already released the string, sending the arrow flying, it had veered off target as the string slapped your forearm with a sharp snap causing you to drop it.
Fenrir suddenly popped up from the ground where he had been laid out the last half hour, head cocked in concern at the noise that escaped you.
“How many times do I have to tell you,” Yoongi groaned, “You can’t hold it with a stiff arm! Look at this!” He got up from his spot as he held up your arm by the wrist, “It looks like somebody gave you a lashing! Jungkook will have my head if it isn’t heal by tomorrow.”
Your lips twisted into a sulky pout, “I am trying!”
“Not hard enough that’s the fifth time within the hour,” Yoongi whistled out as he let you go, Fenrir walking up to you as he sniffed your hand, giving it a lick before nudging it.
You rubbed your forearm, that was undeniably sore and throbbing with pain before placing your hand on Fenrir’s head to give it a nice long rub.
He had grown remarkably big in the last month, almost as big as you now, just a five or six inches shorter, it made you give a sad frown, at how big he was and soon he’d become a monstrous size…
You’d simply have to build a bigger stable you supposed.
“Aim comes naturally but holding a weapon does not,” You sighed as you placed both your hands on Fenrir’s head, now giving him generous rubs and pats that had him giving a toothy puppy grin that made you smile, “I’ve practiced here and there with a bow but with everything going on, I just haven’t made it a priority.”
Yoongi sighed, “Natural ability will only get you so far, discipline if a far greater advantage Princess, thankfully we can start working on this daily, I think it’d be good for you to have a hobby.”
“I have hobbies.” You frowned as crossed your arms.
“Such as…?” Yoongi gestured.
“Well…” You could think of several as a matter of fact, but you had given them all up once you had moved to Penumbra, the thought made you frown in realization, you had been so caught up in all the highs and lows of your new life that it was true.
You had hobbies, you just never participated in any of them.
“I suppose it would do me some good to work on it,” You sighed as you relented, “I still feel a tad guilty though, shouldn’t I be honing my skill in swordsmanship? Jungkook once told me that it’s expected the Crowned Prince and Princess are supposed to be the best at it.”
“Well…” Yoongi stretched the word, “This is true but, I don’t think somebody is going to fault you for not being the best at it. I’d like to think it’s an expectation from those born in Penumbra, not those who marry in. Not only this but if you are inclined to another form of weaponry, then it’s as simple as that.
“As long as you have some form of sword training then it’ll do,” Yoongi shrugged, “What matters is personal protection, some training is better then none, but having a form of training you’re good at is even better.”
“You Penumbrian’s certainly like taking precautions.” You sighed wistfully as you picked up your bow once more.
“The more the better,” Yoongi said, “Guards are great, but what happens when you’re caught without any? Learning to defend yourself is vital.”
You glanced down at your bow, “I understand but…”
“But?” Yoongi asked.
“Well, I suppose a part of me just feels odd,” You replied, “I grew up being taught to save lives, not take them,” You rubbed your neck in uncertainty, “When I took the Dryad’s oath, it was a promise to myself and my ancestors that I would abstain from our carnal nature. That I would never take a life nor would I consume its flesh. Animal or human. Even though the chances of me having to defend myself in such a way are so low, it’s odd to train for it, after taking that oath and living by it my whole life.”
Yoongi let out a small smile, “Then don’t view it as such.”
“What do you mean?” You tilted your head.
“Sword play is considered an art form in Penumbra, you can view a bow in the same light. It’s quite a beautiful thing really, it’s not just aiming and shooting, it’s how you hold it, the type of arrow you use, the weight of your feet. A lot goes into it.”
You thought on this for a while before nodding, “I suppose you are right.”
“Min Yoongi! I’m looking for a Min Yoongi?”
A voice called out that had you both glancing around the courtyard before seeing the courier at the gates glancing around before meeting his gaze.
“Yes?” Yoongi called out, walking up to meet him.
“I have a letter for you sire! It was urgent from the court” The courier dug through his bag before handing it to him, giving a short bow to you and then departing.
You glanced at it anxiously as you exchanged a look with Yoongi, was this about Wheein?
Yoongi opened the letter, reading it before he sighed,
“What, what is it?” You asked, anxiety in your voice.
“It’s not about Wheein,” You let out a breath in relief as Yoongi continued, “But it is a request for help.”
“What do you mean?” You asked.
Yoongi sighed, “There’s a watchtower just east of here, about an hour away give or take on horseback, apparently they’ve been dealing with a gang of bandits up there. Supposedly they’re going to siege the tower.”
“They can do that?” You asked in surprise.
Yoongi shrugged, “I suppose so, I don’t know what they think I can do about it.”
“Well you said you were an assassin before you became a knight? So surely that counts for something.” You said, setting down your bow on a lonely bale of hay.
Yoongi sighed as he folded the letter back up, “Even so, I won’t just leave you here by yourself.”
You frowned, “It’s only us here, and it’s secluded so I won’t be in any real danger, and you said it was only an hour away. I doubt you’d take long in taking them down.”
“Are you just trying to get rid of me?” Yoongi asked in mild amusement.
“I would never!” You said, “But I’d hate to see something unfortunate happen that could be prevented, you’re far closer then someone is to the castle. It would make the most sense for you to go.”
Yoongi sighed, “Even if I’m over cautious, it doesn’t sit right leaving you here all by yourself.”
“I wouldn’t be alone!” You replied, grinning as you gave Fenrir a solid pat, “Fenrir will defend me! Jungkook and I have been working on commands. Sit!”
Fenrir immediately complied.
“Very fierce.” Yoongi said dryly.
You held up a finger, grabbing a piece of wooden box that was free of any nails off the ground, “Fenrir,” He perked up at his name, “Attack!” You threw it causing his gaze to follow it with a loud snarling howl, his jaws crunching the board in half immediately grabbing the smaller end.
Running back to you before dropping down on his front paws, tail wagging as he tried to get you to chase him.
Yoongi looked a bit more startled at the thick board of wood that had been crushed as he nodded, “Okay, a little more fierce than before…” Yoongi thought about it for a long moment, “I suppose if I left now I would make it back by supper….Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
You gave him a small smile, “It’s only a few hours, I think I’ll be able to manage.”
Yoongi still seemed hesitant but he nodded, “I’ll go gather a few things then and be off. The sooner I leave the sooner I’ll be back.”
“It’s one night,” You smiled, “And then we’ll be back at the castle tomorrow.”
You had waved Yoongi off before you continued on with your day.
Spending another few hours training with your bow you had eventually given up once the string of your bow hit a particularly sensitive spot on your forearm.
The rest of your day had been spent taking walks along the trail’s with Fenrir before eventually settling inside, roaming the halls and exploring empty rooms.
And eventually the afternoon came.
But slowly the sun began to set and a vague feeling of dread followed along with it.
Yoongi…would’ve been back by now, right?
Or perhaps it took him longer to clear out the bandits.
You nodded at this as you stayed curled up in your large chair, Fenrir curled up beneath your feet as he let out a sigh, as if sensing your discomfort and unsatisfied with it.
Continuing to read, time went on and soon the sun had set.
You had managed to get a fire going on your own and had lit the candles in the hall, making the estate feel less consuming then it had before but it didn’t quell your anxiousness as the hour went on later.
Yoongi would certainly be back by now…
You were certain you’d manage the commute back to the castle if you had too but…You wouldn’t feel right just leaving without him, but you also had no way of sending a message to the castle for help without going back yourself.
You felt at a loss for what to do, as you roamed the main hall, pausing at the sound of the gate opening. Opening the doorway you hurried out to the courtyard.
“Yoongi, I’ve been waiting all day, you worried me sick!” You stopped short at the sight ahead of you.
“Not who you were expecting?”
Di Jin’s smug smile was the last thing you saw before the sudden blow to your head caused your vision to go dark.
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“You look lost.” Jimin commented as he plopped in a seat right next to his dearest friend, both sat out for breakfast on the terrace.
“Was it a good idea sending her to the Estate?” Jungkook stared down in hard contemplation, his food untouched, “If something happens I won’t be able too…!”
He inhaled sharply as he forced himself to lean back in his chair, but despite the motion his body refused to relax.
You had left two days ago and he felt a void ever since.
Jungkook didn’t realize how much your presence had filled every inch of the castle until you had left, and now, he felt utterly useless, it was one thing for you to be mad at him, it was another for you to be gone.
Jimin looked amused but felt bad for him nonetheless, “Nothing is going to happen to her, the estate is nice and tucked away, the entire court has forgotten about it anyways, it hasn’t been used in years. You did a good thing.”
“Did I?” Jungkook finally slumped.
He had been constantly replaying his last memory of you, the conversation you both had before you left, the memory of you looking up at him for a long moment as if silently yearning for some form of affection.
It left Jungkook’s hands twitching and an unfamiliar ache in his chest, he couldn’t even describe how it felt. And he was honest when he spoke with you the night before, true he didn’t remember much, but what he did remember was straight from his heart, he thought he knew many things.
But after meeting you he found out quickly that he knew nothing at all.
Tomorrow, surely you’d be back tomorrow. You hadn’t given him an exact timeframe, but surely when you said a few days, you had meant no more then three?
“What if I-”
“No.” Jimin cut him off, “The whole point of her going was to get out of the castle and by default away from you. Not only that but what if something happened to Wheein while you were gone?”
Jungkook sunk back in his chair, that was right…He had promised you he would take care of anything that might possibly happen.
He wouldn’t let you down.
“Have you found any evidence yet?” Jungkook lowered his voice, his gaze lingering on the far side of the table where Claudin had been dining with a group of court ladies.
Jimin frowned, “Yes but the problem is getting it open,” He huffed, “I was able to slip into his room last night, it was empty but he has a lock box beneath a hollowed broken floorboard piece, seems he was in a hurry when he left, otherwise it wouldn’t have been left afar.
“Regardless I haven’t been able to crack the lock. Whatever is in there, it has a master’s lock on it. I’ll need at least another dozen picks before I even come close to cracking it.”
Jungkook sighed as he shook his head in disdain, “Of course when we need Yoongi he’s gone.”
Their elder would be able to open it within the hour if he was here.
Jimin frowned as well, “I’ll try again this afternoon.”
Jungkook’s eyes narrowed, “That’s early for you.”
“We’re running out of time Jungkook,” Jimin sighed, sinking back into his chair as well, eyeing Claudin with a certain wryness, “I keep hearing stirrings from the guards about how they’ve narrowed their search, but they’re hellbent on saying it was Wheein.”
“Sire,”
They both paused at the sight of Taehyun, a frown on his face as he glanced between them both, an anxious look as he bowed slightly, “It’s the council…they’ve summoned you. It doesn’t sound good, you should come as well Jimin.”
Jungkook glanced at his friend but said nothing as he stood up, not liking this one bit.
The walk to the throne room was swift and Jungkook wasted no time in arriving, the other council members had just arrived as well.
Clearly he wasn’t the only one uncertain of what was going on, other members had started hushing whispers to one another, all glancing in Jungkook’s direction occasionally as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed as he glanced at the empty throne the seats on its left occupied by his aunt and uncle whispering to one another.
They both glanced at him once before quickly looking away.
The tension felt suffocating and the longer it lasted the more anxious Jungkook felt, seconds turned into minutes and the whispers began to get louder.
And all within a moment, the doors open and a sweepingly silence took over the room save for the sound of boots against the ground. Dae Seong walked with confience in every step before standing before everyone on the throne.
“It is with confidence I have come to announce something of the utmost importance,” His voice boomed, “The attempted assassination on our Crowned Princess, was indeed committed by her maid Jung Wheein, we have reason enough to believe it was her as all the evidence points as such. Her form of punishment will be burning at the stake, tonight at the height of the moon. I ask you all join me on this divine distribution of punishment,”
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Groaning softly your vision was blurry at first, and the first person to appear in your vision was not who you expected.
“Not so quick witted now are you Eunoian Bitch,” Seohyun sneered, her smirking figure beneath you as your vision of her doubled.
Your mind was confused as you only remembered Di Jin being here, your eyes closed briefly only for a sharp pain to spread through your side that you recognized as being kicked in the side by her.
Groaning your eyes opened and her eyes beaded, sneering at you as another voice spoke, “Come along now Seohyun, why don’t you go see if that insufferable knight has managed to come back yet, I will finish our business here.”
She eyed you warily but said no more as she left and soon Di Jin stood in front of you, “You have truly been a pain in my ass since I was enlisted to kill you, I only hope you realize that.”
There was no remorse in his eyes as he pulled the wickedly curved knife from it’s sheath and a sadistic smile curled on his face, “Don’t worry Princess, i’ll make sure you have a slow miserable death.”
Despite your sluggish movements, adrenaline had shot in your veins as you realized you were about to die, you had too much to live for still. You needed to see what would come of Eunoia, you needed to make sure Wheein was okay, that you would keep your promise to Jungkook.
You couldn’t die, and you would fight if it meant living to see it.
Your mind was slowly coming out of it’s haze as Di Jin stepped closer to you, realizing you were in the courtyard near the hay bales, the pile you had cleaned early next to you, your arm reached over to grab one of the planks, three long rusted nails sticking out of it.
You swung it with as much force as you could towards his legs, it made contact, the nail piercing his skin with a wet noise as he cried out in pain, falling back on the ground as he growled out. “You dumb bitch, a pain until the end!”
You attempted to crawl away, heart pounding in your ears as you scurried but he was still too mobile, yanking the plank out of his leg with a growl of pain as he managed to get on top of you, you caught his wrists as he attempted to plunge the knife in your throat, “I’ll enjoy watching the life leave your eyes. I’ll be sure to bring your head back for your little husband to see one last time.”
Your strength was already failing as you winced out, the knife slowly coming closer to your skin as you whimpered out as it pierced the first layer of your flesh.
It was an indescrible pain that had you yelping in pain,
“I’ll make these last few moments the most excruciating and perhaps if you beg me enough, I might just end your pathetic little life girl,” Di Jin grinned leaning in closer, “Maybe if you beg me more i’ll give you a little more than just a long death.”
He pushed the knife a little deeper as blood spilled from your skin making you cry out, his body weighing heavier on yours and his lips suddenly pressing to your ear, “Something tells me you’d prefer that over this.”
Something about his lips pressing against your skin lit something primal inside of you, every sense heightened inside you as your lips parted taking a wide bite into his neck, you could taste it first, the metallic flavor of blood running across your tongue and dripping down your throat and then his skin was next, uncomfortably soft and tender and next was the cartilage, it was rubbery and had hard bits in it, next was the sensation of something warm and wet against your face.
Di Jin could no longer properly speak, his grip suddenly loosened on the knife as you yanked the large chunk of flesh straight from his neck, grabbing the knife as you yanked it away shoving him down as you managed to get on top of him.
The chunk missing from his neck was ghastly, blood pooling on the ground, oozing everywhere and squirting from various places and he was gagging loudly, choking on his own blood.
Anger trembled in your body, it wasn’t enough, even with chunks of flesh missing and blood covering your face, skin hanging and cartilage visible it still wasn’t enough, before you could even think you plunged the knife into his neck, eyes blurring as you watched him gurgle, choking on his own blood as the life left his eyes.
Your hands were shaking as you waited for him to jump back to life to kill you, and then you slowly realized your vision was blurred from tears, your heart pounding as you took a shaky breath yanking the knife out of his neck before you let out blood curdling scream slamming it back in his neck again.
Jungkook’s betrayal.
Wheein being taken.
Exiled from your own kingdom.
Being forced to wed.
Made into a healer as a child.
Bone.
Blood.
Ash.
The mourning bells rang in your head and you could vividly taste the metallic on your tongue stronger than ever as the taste of raw flesh lingered in your throat.
Blood splattered upward as you stabbed the spot over again, all of the rage searing in your veins as Di Jin’s form became disfigured, his neck nearly separating his head from his body as you shoved the knife in deeper.
Hearing the wet gurgling noise as you heaved a breath, staring at his cold dead eyes staring back at you, the next scream was not your own, but it came closer within seconds before the door to the estate opened.
Seohyun was heavily bleeding from her left thigh, sporting a large bite as a loud snarl came from inside the door, shakily you stood up, “Fenrir, wait.”
The large wolf paused, and that's when you noticed the large gash on his leg, causing him to limp, rage quelled in your veins again as you limped over, Seohyun looked pale a ghost at the sight of you.
From the moment this woman met you, she had given you nothing but grief, attempted to humiliate you, belittle you, try to win a lost battle, attempt to kill you, and now she had hurt your precious companion.
Even with a mangled body behind you, it still wasn’t enough.
Tripping over her own two feet she fell down as you walked over, “We can talk about this Y/n!” Her eyes were as big as saucers, “Please! I’ll leave Penumbra and- and never come back.”
You felt nothing for her as you stood above her, watching pathetic tears drip down her face for a long moment, finally you knelt down, “If Penumbra has taught me anything Seohyun, It’s that some people do not deserve my forgiveness, nor my kindness.”
Her lips parted rapidly, her throat scratchy, and for the first time, you saw genuine fear in her eyes, “B-but you’re a Eunoian,”
Her words were pointed, bargaining, pleading even- if you listened close enough, “Eunoian’s don’t kill.”
Your lips slowly lifted into a joyless smile as you let out an uneasy laugh, “Well,” Your smile dropped, your hands were still shaky, unbridled rage still taunt in your veins.
The primal urge of need to prove her wrong, prove all of them wrong, that you would never again be looked down upon as weak or underestimated.
Your hand grabbed her neck, causing her to let out a choked sob as you squeezed it tight enough to choke her airway, yanking her nearly nose to nose with you.
“We’re not in Eunoia, are we?” Your nails dug into her neck, not stopping until you felt the blood from her skin oozing, you shoved her back before you stood up, ignoring her blubbering, tears trickling down her face as you walked away, “Fenrir.”
“Please!”
He let out a growl, “Attack.”
Her cries of agony were left of deaf ears as you walked back over to the corpse of Di Jin grabbing the knife from his neck and yanking it out before taking the sheath that went with it, adjusting it on your waist.
Collapsing on the ground away from him you noticed your hands for the first time, shaking, trembling as your vision blurred once more, scarred and covered in blood, just what had you done?
Fenrir’s mouth was covered in blood, but the whine didn’t escape your ears as he tenderly tried to sit down in front of you.
“I’m sorry.” You ushered, grief strong in your voice though uncertain of who it was for, yourself, your country, your companion, you reached out for him, gently rubbing your hand down his neck, “But we have a long journey ahead of us Fenrir.”
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The bells were ringing and a somber air had taken over, Jungkook had nearly lost his entire wits, his father had banished him from the room, not wanting to hear another word from him about this.
Being told he was too sentimental fell on deaf ears, he didn’t care, it was his friend, it was injustice, it was corrupt. He hated it, he hated that despite being the crowned prince, his son, his father simply didn’t care.
All Jungkook could do was wait for Jimin to unlock this damn box. But it felt as though it was too late, he was banned from so much as leaving his room, guards at his door there to keep him boxed in but this wouldn’t stop him.
pulling the cloak over his head, he opened the window, the bricks were jagged and uneven enough that he could easily climb down, he did it often when he was younger, much to the blindness of his father.
Scaling the wall, Jungkook got down, feet planted firmly on the ground as he kept the hood over his head tight as he made his way to the courtyard. A crowd had gathered, all wanting to witness the supposed assassin.
Nobody paid mind to him with his identity concealed, it would be soon now. If he couldn’t get evidence to get Wheein out, then Jungkook would take matters into his own hand. He didn’t want to have Wheein leave Penumbra, but if this is what it took to keep her safe until her innocence was proven, this is what he would do.
He owed so much of his existence to her, he couldn’t let this happen.
He wasn’t going to let this happen.
The bells stopped as Dae Seong stood up from his throne on the wooden stage they had set up, “We have all gathered here to see the execution of the assassin who tried to kill our crowned princess! Her very own handmaid, this is the killer, our own flesh and blood, and the punishment for a traitorous woman is fitting, burning of the steak!”
Wheein was brought out, her hands tied behind her back, her eyes had dark circles and she was crying as she shook her head, “Please! I would never do that to Penumbra! To Y/n! Please you have to believe me!”
But her cries were in vein as the crowd boo’d her, all shouting vile words her way as they dragged her down to the large wooden steak pyre that had been set up.
Jungkook shifted in his spot as he watched them begin to tie her up.
“Are there any last words you would like to impart to us traitor?” Dae Seong looked at her with pure disgust.
Wheein’s lips quivered as she parted them.
A loud bloodcurdling scream interrupted her before she could speak, the crowd tensed and everyone seemed alert, Jungkook was towards the front, having intended on getting her off there the right moment, but he quickly turned around to see people quickly departing and creating a path.
And the next thing he saw was hardly comprehensible.
You, covered in blood, your face was a horrific sight with it’s dried crimson color covering your mouth all the way down your neck, but what was even more horrifying was what was next to you, Fenrir limping beside you, a corpse held in his mouth.
Women screamed and men gasped in horror as they all moved.
The looks on the royals faces were indescribable, Dae Seong most of all, “What is the meaning of this?”
You stopped in front of the throne, Fenrir as if knowing this was the destination, dropped the body from his jaws, it smacked the ground with a wet echo, the head finally detaching from the body as it rolled towards Dae Seong.
You don’t think you had ever seen an expression quite like what Dae Seong had, and you were sure this would be the only time.
It was silent for a long moment before you finally spoke, your throat raw and scratchy, “That’s your assassin, he tried to kill me again just hours ago.”
Dae Seong’s look of shock slowly twisted into one of rage, “Where is your proof of this!” He stood up from his throne towering over you with a growl, “What does a girl like you have meddling in business you don’t understand and taking the lives of those who were helping!”
“Am I standing in front of you not proof enough?” You snarled back, “From the moment I have come to this kingdom I have been nothing but disrespected, disregarded, used, and seen as nothing more than a tool to further someone’s agenda. And i’m sick of it.”
“Even when it comes to my own life, you stand in front of me questioning it!”
“Why I ought too!-”
“I have it!” A voice cried out, Jimin was running from the side entrance of the courtyard, a notebook in his hand as he panted, his eyes widening when they set on you, ‘Y/n!? Are you okay? I have it, I have proof that Di Jin was the assassin! Here, your majesty.”
Dae Seong snatched it with a certain level of venom as he looked through the book, but slowly as his eyes read through, an unreadable look took over his face.
Exhaustion began to take over, your body beginning to sway.
Dae Seong closed the book with a sense of finality, “Very well,” He aid with gritted teeth, anger still simmering in his eyes, “Perhaps, you do have the grit to survive here princess.”
You didn’t hear his words though, your gaze had went down to the body of Di Jin, and swaying backwards you collapsed into an abyss of darkness, nothing more then multiple people calling your name.
788 notes · View notes
freedomfireflies · 1 month
Text
I Love You*
Summary: The second part to Yellow* and One for the Money*
The one where you tell Mr. Styles you love him and you wonder if he'll say it back.
Word Count: 3k
Content Warning: 18+, smut, blow job, multiple orgasms, brief Daddy kink, Sir kink
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I love you.
Three little words that feel so big in such a small room. 
Mr. Styles remains still. Unmoving. So quiet, you wonder if you actually said the words aloud or if you only thought them.
But you can feel his heart racing. Can hear the subtle hitch in his breath as the seconds tick by. And you know, undoubtedly, that he heard you.
You clear your throat. “You don’t…you don’t have to say it back. I just wanted you to know.”
There’s another long lull between your admission and his response. He shifts in your arms before finally he finally nods once.
And that suffices as his reply.
Truth be told, you feel relieved. You aren’t even sure why you said it at all, much less now. And after such an intimate scene. Especially when you knew he most likely wouldn’t say it back.
But you don’t blame him for that. Mr. Styles has never been the overly romantic, affectionate type. You don’t expect that to change just for you. You’re happy with the relationship you have. You like that you stay at his apartment more than your own. You like that he dedicates his free time to you. And you like that you work together and play together.
He’s more than just your partner and your boss. He’s…yours.
“Sir?” you whisper, and you feel his hand tighten around yours. “Are you all right?”
He nods again. Quickly. Strained. “I’m fine, Peach. Are you?”
You nod, too. “Mhm. I’m better now. Promise.” A beat. “Could we start the scene again?”
He lets out a sigh and finally looks up to catch your eye. “Maybe later. We’ll see.”
You pout and feel that anxious twist in your stomach return. You don’t want to end this moment on a sour note. The note where you had to safe word and make him stop only to tell him you love him and surely freak him out. You want to go back. Start it all over again. Do it right.
He notices your frown and tilts his head. “Peach,” he warns. “Don’t.”
“But—”
“I said we’ll see,” he repeats sternly. “If you’re good, I’ll consider it. But if you want to argue with me, you can sit here, achy and dripping, with nobody to touch you.”
You bite back a whine. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl.” He pats your hip. “I’ve got a few more emails to answer before dinner. If I go, will you be all right until I’m done?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He takes hold of your chin. Firm. “I want your honesty.”
“You have it.”
He hesitates. There’s a tension here, between you. An unspoken strain and an edge you’d give anything to smooth out.
You can tell he wants to resolve it. He’s a problem solver. It’s in his nature to fix things. And that’s how this whole arrangement was started in the first place.
But how can he fix what he knows he broke?
He kisses your cheek. Quickly. Gently. “Be good while I’m gone.”
And with that, he leaves you. He turns off the camera, puts his clothes back on, and disappears into his home office.
You spend the next several hours trying not to stare at his closed door. Or thinking about how it ended. What you said. You delete the footage off the SD card and vow to never speak of this day again.
He feels so far away, even if it’s only a few hundred feet. But there’s an ocean between you now and you are lost in his sea. 
Dinner is good. You order Chinese and it’s delivered right as he’s exiting his office for the night. You do your best to put things back to the way they were before. You talk—a lot—and he listens. He’s quiet. Nodding along without much commentary. He picks at his food and you know something is still on his mind.
You hate it.
He cleans up while you go take a shower. You take your time, allowing the water to wash away your regret. Make you clean again. Until each mistake has been swept down the drain.
The two of you will be okay. You have to be.
When you get out, you find him on the bed. He’s got his reading glasses on and a book in his hand and he looks…
Ethereal.
You’ve always been attracted to him. How could you not be, when he has a jaw like that and abs that could grate cheese? But somehow, he looks even better like this—relaxed. At peace. He’s still wearing his fancy slacks and white button up. But the sleeves have been rolled to his elbows and he’s left the first few buttons undone. 
You step further into the bedroom and he doesn’t seem to notice. He’s engrossed in his novel, glasses perched on the tip of his perfect nose as he flips to the next page. And you smile. Your insides already aching as you crawl onto the end of the mattress and allow your towel to fall away.
When the bed dips, he glances up. Briefly. He notices the feral look in your eye and the way you’re moving toward him. He knows what you want and thankfully, he doesn’t deny you.
He looks back to his book. “How was your shower?”
“Good,” you murmur. You reach for his belt and slip it through each loop until you can toss it toward the floor.
He’s quiet.
“How’s your book?” you ask and he hums.
“It’s all right. Not entirely helpful but I like the subject.”
You grin. You adore when he sounds studious. “That’s good.” You pull his zipper down and reach inside his briefs. 
Still, he doesn’t so much as flinch. He reads and he pretends as though you aren’t currently dragging your palm along his hardening cock. He pretends your tits aren’t mere inches from his grasp and he pretends that he can’t see the way you’ve already begun to drip.
You take him in your mouth. Your tongue is wet and ready and you swing your leg over his thigh in order to brace yourself against his lap and take him fully. He’s large. Incredibly large and you forget that sometimes until you feel the way he curves down your throat. 
You pull back and spit only to watch the way it drips down his length until you can smear it around the way you want.
“Peach,” you hear him say and you look up. He moves the book aside to see you. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like?” 
He reaches down and pinches your cheek. “Watch it,” he warns and he’s strict but somehow kind. “I thought I told you to wait.”
“I did wait,” you argue before sucking on his tip. You pop off and lick your lips. “All day. Couldn’t wait any longer.”
“Hm.” He moves his hand to the back of your head and tugs you away. “I’m not sure I should let you.”
“…why?” You straighten up. “I’m okay now. I want to do this. And you never got to finish—”
“Peach—”
“—which I know isn’t the point,” you amend quickly, remembering what he said before. “I know. But I want to make you finish. I want to make you feel good. Especially after what you did for me.”
He frowns now. Sighs. Takes off his glasses and sets down his book. “I’m your dominant and your partner. It is my job to take care of you. I don’t do it because I want something in return and my kindness is not transactional. I care about you. I want you to be okay. Always.”
I care about you isn’t exactly an I love you but it still makes you smile. Really, really big.
“I know,” you whisper. You squeeze his thigh. “But I feel…edged.”
He smirks. “Do you?”
“Mhm.” You dip back down and drag your tongue up from his balls. You notice his jaw tick. “And if you really want to take care of me and make sure I’m okay…you’ll cum in my mouth.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He considers this, fingers tapping over the hard cover of his book. Then, he nods once, and slips his glasses back on. “All right. I’ll let you have your way just this once. But once you’re through, you’re to get into this bed and go to sleep. Is that understood?”
You nod eagerly. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl. Go ahead.”
With that, you continue your sucking and fondling while he continues reading his novel. The bedroom is eerily silent except for the loud echo of your wet, enthusiastic lapping at the large cock sitting proudly on your tongue. And you wouldn’t have it any other way. Even if he won’t give you your own orgasm before bed, you’re content to have him just like this.
It doesn’t take long until he’s twitching in your mouth. He doesn’t look at you or watch the way your cheeks hollow or the way his balls look in your pretty hands, but you know he’s desperate to. You can tell by the way he turns the page. The way he grips the book and tries incredibly hard not to rip it in half as he moves to the next chapter. 
You don’t slow. You keep going, even as his legs flex beneath you. As his chest takes in labored breaths. You want to get him there and he subtly nudges his leg further into your cunt to feel your arousal smear across his skin. 
You do everything you know he likes, even though the camera is off. You suck and squeeze and give him everything you know he likes. Because this performance is just for him. The way you moan, the way you swallow, the way you bob and take more of him than you think you ever have before.
You’re his good girl. His investment, his toy, his.
And moments before he finally releases himself all down your throat, he tosses the book aside, grabs a fistful of your hair, and yanks you off.
“Get on,” he grits and tugs you closer.
You don’t need to be told twice. You scoot forward and line him up just so before he takes hold of your hips and helps you sink down. Things move quickly and he doesn’t have the patience to wait any longer. 
And it’s beautiful, this moment. The way he stretches you open. And even if there’s a slight burn from the intrusion of his thick cock, you revel in the pain. Both of you groaning the moment you feel it.
And you know he won’t be able to hold off much longer.
“How did it taste, Peach, hm?” he asks as he fucks up into you. “How did it feel to have me in your mouth?”
“Good,” you pant. You claw at his curls. “So good, Sir—”
“Yeah?” He slaps his hand against your ass and you mewl. “Like to take my cock, don’t you? Like to be my dirty little slut—"
“Yes—”
“Like to feel me down your throat…have me cum all over your tongue.”
You make too many noises and he reaches up to pull your lip with his teeth. He kisses you and groans into your mouth and this is what sex should be. Rough and hard but filled with adoration.
“What a fucking whore,” he groans. He tugs at your hips. Watches the bulge in your belly with every thrust. “Begging to suck my cock, wanting to make Daddy feel good…guess I don’t give your mouth enough things to do, hm?”
You shake your head and wilt in his hold. He rarely refers to himself with that nickname and hearing it now almost tips you over.
“So fucking wet,” he exhales and you look down to watch with him. “S’fucking pathetic, isn’t it? Didn’t even have to touch you to have you dripping.”
He’s right. He always is.
He pinches your clit. Takes your nipple in his mouth and lets his large hands scratch down your back—your shoulders blades, your spine, your ass. And you have never felt safer than here in this moment with him.
“Cum,” he says, and he nips at your skin until it’s littered in marks and memories.
“Cum,” he whispers, and he pulls on your hair and wraps it around his fist to bare your throat to his teeth.
“Cum,” he pleads, and he kisses you—hard—until the room is spinning and you finally let go.
You unravel together. A collection of moans and cries and tangled limbs as you make a mess of each other. And you don’t care—about any of it. About what was said earlier, about what wasn’t said, about the way he looked when you said it.
You cling to his strong shoulders and you kiss him hard and you indulge in the feel of him dripping from your cunt.
But he’s not through. He pulls you off his cock and flips you onto your knees until your ass in the air.
You feel his tongue. Dragging up your cunt, tasting the remains of his cum, your cum, everything. He spanks you—hard. Paints his mark across your skin and leaves it there just so he can admire it.
“Say it,” he hisses and you suck in a sharp breath.
“Wha…what?”
“Say it,” he says. He spanks you again and nips at your pussy. “Say you love me.”
You clutch the duvet and your thighs are shaking. Your mind feels fuzzy. “I…”
Another slap to your ass and you’re overstimulated and wildly sensitive. He fucks his tongue into your dripping hole and grunts at the way you keen and you’ve never felt this kind of beautiful confusion.
“Say it.” He holds your thighs open and nearly suffocates himself as he mouths at you. “Fucking tell me you love me. Tell me again.”
You shake your head. You don’t understand. “Harry…”
Wrong. He slips his fingers inside and fucks his cum back into you. Fast. Lewd. Loud. “Come on, Peach. I know you want to. Know you do….so say it.”
And maybe this is a trick. Maybe this is some cruel, sadistic game just to make you lose but you can’t think straight when he’s this close. When he’s bending your body to his salacious intentions and treating you like a toy.
“I love you,” you whisper. You screw your eyes shut. “I do, I love you, Sir.”
He curses. Groans. “Again.”
“I love you.” You fall onto the bed stomach first but he doesn’t stop. He flips you around and he looks at you as he eats you. “I love you, Mr. Styles.”
His lashes flutter. You reach for his hair and tug it with your fist and he moans into your cunt before drinking you down. Spitting on your pussy just to smear it around and thrust it back into you.
You arch. “Shit, I love you—I—”
You cum again and he enjoys every second of it. He pulls you as close to his face as he can get you and lives inside the sound of your strained whimpers.
And when you finish, he leaves your clit with a satisfied pop and licks his lips. You watch him crawl up your body until he’s settled atop your chest and you smile lazily as he reaches up to run his hand down your cheek.
“My sweet Peach,” he whispers and kisses you hard. You taste everything. You taste him. You taste the desperation woven alongside his tongue. He kisses you until you can’t breathe and he only stops so he can stare at you a little longer.
You brush your fingers through the damp curls along the back of his neck. “That was fun.”
He’s quiet. Studying you closely and you feel as though you’re being graded on a test you didn’t know you were taking. 
Then, he murmurs, “I don’t say it.”
Your heart skips. You don’t have to ask what he means. “I…I know. It’s okay. I don’t expect you—”
“I don’t say it because I’m afraid I can’t live up to it,” he continues. He ignores you. “Because the last time I did, I couldn’t deliver on what it meant. My love didn’t look the same as hers did. I said it. And she still left.”
Your other hand finds his shirt. You trail your touch over the exposed skin of his chest and you feel the way his heart races. “I know.”
His brows furrow. “I want to say it,” he says softly. “I want to. For you. Because I do. And I don’t want this to feel unfair—”
“It doesn’t,” you assure him. “I promise. I…I figured you wouldn’t say it back and I was okay with that. Because it doesn’t change the fact that I do.”
Another beat. “I’m worried you didn’t mean it.”
“What?”
He sighs and sweeps his thumb along your jaw. “You’d been anxious, and you were scared. You said none of your other partners had ever been kind to you in moments like that, and…sex is intimate. It can change the chemistry in your brain and maybe…maybe you didn’t mean it—”
“I did.” You grab his face and you make him listen. “Harry, I meant it. I still mean it. And I’ll mean it tomorrow, too. And the next day. And the next.”
His expression softens.
“And I meant it long before today. I wanted to tell you tons of times and I didn’t because…I don’t know. I didn’t want to scare you,” you admit and you both smile. “It is a big word. But it’s just a word. It means nothing without action. And even if you can’t say it, you show it every day. And that’s all I could really want.”
He dips down and nuzzles his nose against yours. “I don’t deserve you, Peach.”
“No,” you tease. “No, you don’t.”
You kiss again and his body feels good against yours. His heart feels good against yours.
Then, he exhales, "I love you."
And you don't say anything. But you smile. Because you know everything he's giving up just to offer you what you want to hear.
Minutes go by before you finally change the subject and say, "You know, I kind of wish we'd been recording all that. That would have been some great content."
He laughs, relieved, and the sound is so incredibly beautiful. 
“Next time,” he says and you grin as he holds you closer. “Tonight…your love belongs to me.”
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HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY CUTIES!!! Granted, this wasn't exactly a Valentine's blurb BUT LISTEN IT WAS CLOSE ENOUGH!!!!! ASLFJSF
I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH and hope you're having the best day! No matter what it looks like or who it's with ♥️
~ Full One for the Money Masterlist
~ Full Masterlist
Credit for the incredible and perfectly peachy dividers to @firefly-graphics!!
Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @floral-recs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @kathb59 @iamjustaholeforyousir @harrystylesfan2686 @cherryluvhobi @caynonmoondreams @daphnesutton @ilovec0lbybr0ck @definegirlfriendsx @allthelovehes @amiets2 @nega-omega @sucker-4-angst @hsgucci94 @gills-lounge @kennedy-brooke @avasversion @stylesfever @saturnheartz
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lainsshop · 2 months
Text
A Lovely Night ౨ৎ
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Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Tags: fluff(?), crack(?), developing relationship, dancing, singing, lalaland n probably more..
Song: A Lovely Night - La La Land
A/N: Sorry if it’s so bad even tho I just copied everything from the scene but please give feedback if it’s bad..
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You n Alastor were walking around the empty streets of the Cannibal Colony.
He insisted that he wanted to spend the night together in a lil cafe to just “catch up” even tho you guys always see each other in the hotel, Hazbin Hotel.
It wasn’t unusual for you two to spend nights like this, you used to hang out before he disappeared for 7 whole years.. he still won’t tell you why cause nobody needs to know.. which it did kinda annoyed you but that’s how Alastor was and still is.
Even if it did annoyed you and his whole person itself, you still had developed a tiny crush on him, in your words anyways. You clearly had a crisis cause you’ve never had crushes so it was a new feeling for you.. you wanted to throw up and keep being in denial but sooner or later you will accept it so there was no point in hiding it.
Alastor knew you so clear as a book so he obviously knew about ur lil crush on him but he didn’t said anything cause he enjoyed your reaction to almost everything, it was entertaining after all. So he waited for you to just burst out but not without his “help”.
As you continue to walk, you suddenly tripped a bit. “Shit..” You said under your breathe. You don’t know why in hell did you wanted to wear heels today but here you are! Being an idiot..
“Those look uncomfortable.” Alastor said as his smile grew a bit wider. “They aren’t..” You responded, clearly a bit annoyed.
You two didn’t said anything further on until Alastor spoke up. “Thank you for this wonderful night, my dear, reminds me of the old times.” He said. “You didn’t give me much of a choice anyways.” You replied, Alastor just chuckled at that. “Oh but I know you enjoyed it either way.” “… whatever.” You said.
You continued to walk up a hill and stumble across the city skyline. A ribbon of lights, stretching as far as you can see. It’s the most romantic sight in hell that you’ve seen since who knows how long it as been. You looked at each other. A beat. And then..
You shrug. As you continue to walk a bit. “I’ve seen better.” You commented. “I have to agree with that.” Alastor responded as he walked to the pole and started to sing..
“The sun is nearly gone.. n the lights are turning on, a silver shine that stretches to the sea.” You knew Alastor could sing and all but you honestly didn’t expect that right now. He was many things that you couldn’t quite puzzle out. “We’ve stumbled on a view, that’s a tailor-made for two.. what a shame those two are you n me.” He said he walked towards you. You wanted to looked annoyed but the way he’s singing makes you wanna.. but you just rolled your eyes and walk towards somewhere else trying to ignore him. “Some other girl and guy, would love this swirling sky..” He said walking next to you. “But there’s only you and I, and we’ve got no shot,” You wanted to laugh at that but- “This could never be, you’re not the type for me.” He says as he’s smile grew a bit.
Oh, he was teasing you at this point. “Really?” You saiid unamused. “And there’s not a spark in sight, what a waste of a lovely night..” He sings before walking away.
You narrowed your eyes as you looked at him before clearing your throat. “You said there’s nothing here, well, let’s make something clear, I think I’ll be the one to make that call.” You sing along. “Not quite sure about that, darling.” He commented as he looked at you. “And though you looked so cute in your silky lil suit..”
“It’s polyester.”
“You’re right, I’d never fall for you at all..” You lied. “And maybe this appeals to someone not in heels.” You said as you walk to the bench. “Or any girl who feels, there’s some chance in romance but, I’m frankly feeling nothing..” You sing as Alastor looks at you still smiling as he raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?” “Or it could be less than nothing.” “Good to know, so you agree?” “That’s right..”
“What a waste of a lovely night.” You both sang along.
Alastor sits next to you in the bench. You cross your leg as you take one of your heels and put on some more comfortable shoes. Alastor looked at his shoes and started to “accidentally” move dirt towards you, just to annoy you. You paused and give him a glare and lightly hit him in the chest and continue to put remove your other heel.
He started to mock you as he cross his leg too. As you finish with changing shoes, you two put your feet down and you looked at him suspiciously, and started to move in sync. Alastor turned to look at the view and looked at you, he tried to poke you but you stopped him.
As you two slide from to the other side of the bench, he grabbed your bag and tried to open it but you snatched it from him. He suddenly jumps onto the bench and starts dancing and gets off. You two suddenly started to move in sync and jump onto the bench once again looking at the view and then each other and jumped off the bench and started to really dance.
As you two stopped dancing, yall got closer and closer.. on that moment you just wanted to confess to him and everything. Oh, he was very much waiting for that. You slightly opened your mouth to speak and then-
Your cellphone ring started to go off, it was Charlie.
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© LAINSSHOP 2024
Tag List: @thisisafish123
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ssturniolo · 3 months
Note
could u write something where reader is going through a sort of depressive episode where like trader just kinda feels hopeless and stuff and is pushing chris away and so he doesn’t understand why until matt like points it out and so chris then feels bad and comforts reader sorry if this is long😭
Everything’ll be alright
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𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 - Chris x fem!reader
𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶 - request <3
𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 - mentions of depression, bad mental health, Chris being oblivious, not proofread
Everything in your life has just been going wrong. Or at least it’s felt that way. Simple everyday tasks have grown increasingly difficult to do and every waking moment is it’s own battle. You’ve had no contact with the outside world in who knows how long, not even your own boyfriend. It just seems as though nobody cares and that, along with everything else is slowly destroying you.
Only leaving your bed to use the bathroom and grab another bag of chips that will eventually be thrown to the side uneaten, has been how you’ve been living for awhile now. You’re filled with this overwhelming feeling of despair and it just won’t go away. At war with your own mind, and there doesn’t seem to be a light at the end of this tunnel. Just a dead end.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** **
Chris lays on the couch, scrolling through Instagram while hoping that you’ll answer one of his million texts. He knows you’re pushing him away but he can’t figure out why. What did he do wrong? You’re his first girlfriend and he’s so afraid to loose you but he doesn’t know what’s wrong or what to do.
“Me and Nick are going to McDonald’s if you want to bring y/n,” Matt calls as he grabs his keys off the counter.
“No that’s ok, I don’t think she’d want to” Chris reply’s, not looking up from his phone.
“But I thought she loves McDonald’s? I haven’t heard from her in awhile, how’s she doing?” Matt asks, his voice laced with concern.
“I wouldn’t know” Chris mumbles, clearly hurt.
Every once in awhile you kind of disappear but you’ve never done it for this long, let along not talking to Chris at all.
“Did you guys break up?” Matt asks gently as he sits by Chris on the couch.
“No but she ghosted me” Chris starts, pressing his palms into his eyes. “She’s completely disappeared off of social media, and never answers my texts or calls even when it says she’s active.”
Worry is painted across Matt’s features as he watches his brother fight off tears.
“Chris I think you should go check up on her. Y/n wouldn’t do this without a really good reason and I think she’s really struggling right now. I’ll bring you on the way to McDonald’s ok?”
Chris never thought about that fact you might not be doing well, he was more concerned about you ignoring him.
“Ok, let’s go.”
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** **
You’ve been curled up on your bed, staring at the same spot on your wall for what’s seemed like forever. How long exactly? You have no clue. Your only telling of time was whether there was light peeking through the blinds, or if everything was just swallowed in darkness.
The creak of the door to your room opening startles you out of your dazed state, confused as you hadn’t heard anyone come into your apartment.
“Hey there princess” a familiar voice whispers as he shuts the door behind him.
Chris.
Without another word, he climbs into your bed, snaking his arms around you, holding you close against his chest. And that’s all it took for you to burst into tears, wetting his t-shirt as you cry into his chest.
“I’m trapped Chris, I’m trapped” you manage to cry out in between sobs.
“I don’t know what to do”
“Everything will be alright baby, we’ll figure this out together, I’ve got you” he whispers soothingly into your hair.
There’s a terrible pressure on your chest, you feel everything and nothing at the same time, and your whole life seems to be crumbling down in front of you, but Chris is there. Right besides you through it all just like he’s always been. The world could be falling apart and he’d be there, ready to hold you in his arms and tell you everything will be alright.
Right now, all you need is Chris and he doesn’t plan on leaving anytime soon.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thank you for the request my love 🫶🏻
XOXO - Zoe
Tag-list ⬇️
@dwntwn-strnlo @soleilsturniolos @mbbsgf @gabbylovesreading @0-r-a-y-0 @sturn3g1rl @lvrsparadise @taylorssfilmsss @emssturniolo @ilovemattsturn @nickenthusiast @itsaaliyah2 @thetriplets3 @urfavstromboli
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sweet-as-an-angel · 11 months
Text
MW2 Reaction to Their S/O Who Self-Harms
Warnings: Heavy Mentions of Self-Harm, Non-Explicit Mentions of Injuries, Mentions of Violence (Not Towards Reader), Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Petnames, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.
A/N: Hey guys, just letting you know that this post is a bit heavier than my usual ones. This has been requested of me quite a few times, so here it is. I’ve tried to remain as realistic and respectful as possible while bringing you your favourite MW2 people. I’m going to link some mental health resources here for anyone who needs them, and I implore anyone suffering, regardless of whether you self-harm or not, to please, please talk to someone. Nobody deserves to live with the weight of poor mental health, so if you’re able, don’t hesitate to reach out to someone and tell them how you’re feeling ! Friends, family members, pets – anyone who you think will be able to be a good listening partner, even if they’re not a licensed therapist. And if you feel you have no-one to talk to, there are always options ! Local and national mental health services, some of which are free and don’t show up on phone bills ! A lot of the time, simply speaking about what’s hurting you is the first step to mental healing <3. Please stay safe, guys <3
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Ghost
Is appalled at himself that he didn’t notice sooner.
He bundles you up into his arms, pulling you as close to him as physics will allow, and then some. His head is buried in your shoulder, his grip around you tight, but he doesn’t hurt you.
“Oh, Sweetheart– I’m so sorry,” you hear him whisper. His voice is thin and high as if the composite of helium, yet a sombre tone weights it.
“I should’ve known how you were feeling – I should’ve been here for you more–”
It doesn’t matter how much you try to console him, or how well you are able to conceal your suffering. Simon will never forgive himself for allowing you to go through this alone.
“It’s no excuse,” he says, and there’s a hitch to his voice. Something wet, warm, hits your shoulder.
Now, distraught as if he’d already lost you, Simon pulls away just so he can see your face. His eyes are glossy and red with tears, his face the mask of anguish.
He takes your head in his hands, holds it at the jaw, and, with angel tenderness, presses a kiss to your crown.
He tucks your head beneath his chin, encases you with his body again.
“I’m never gonna let anything hurt you,” he says, and you can feel his heart pounding against his chest. “Not again.”
And you know he means it.
Due to his own mental health struggles, Simon will use his own logic to try and help you.
He’s never had anyone to rely on – before you, at least – so he makes himself available to you wherever and whenever you need him.
He does everything you ask of him without question, whether that’s making you a bowl of soup or listening to whatever thoughts roll into your head.
He helps you get ready for bed and tucks you in when he can tell it’s been a taxing day, mentally or physically.
And he watches over you, as if to make sure you don’t disappear before his eyes, before going to sleep himself.
There’s nothing he loves more than to hold you, whether you’re upset or not. He just wants to feel your weight and your warmth in his arms, nuzzling you and telling you “I love you. D’you know that ? Very, very much,”
You do know. He tells you every waking moment.
And throughout it all, despite the unfortunate circumstances from which this is derived, Simon is just glad that you want to open up to him, and he’ll never deny you a request or a question, wanting to remain a source of hope and comfort to you for as long as you need him.
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König
König’s many dealings with his own occupation have clued him into how severe one’s mental health issues can become. Especially when left unattended.
And, as a result, König has the propensity to become…overbearing.
Of course, he’s mortified that you’ve been suffering in silence this whole time, and while he knows he can’t change the past, or rewrite the stars to ensure this never happens again, he does everything in his power to prevent you from falling into despair.
“It’s okay, Engel,” he says, taking you into his arms and holding you close so you can hear his thundering heart. “You’re safe. You’re alright, you’re alright…”
In the beginning of your shared journey to healing, König tries to do anything and everything for you. Chores, cooking, pillow readjustment – anything he thinks would be a nuisance to you.
However, he ends up completing tasks that you actually find enjoyable, leaving nothing for you to do.
While you appreciate everything he’s doing – very much so ! – you still want some independence, even if it’s minimal. And you told him as much.
König looked like he was on the verge of tears when he apologised: “I just wanted to do what was best for you, Darling,”
You have to console him, tell him that his gallant efforts are not appreciated.
König still keeps an eye on you if he has cause to believe you may be trying to self-harm again, but he won’t smother you.
He’ll wait for you to come to him, trusting that you know yourself and him well enough to understand that there is nothing you can’t tell him.
Even if you relapse, or stumble a little, König always encourages you to get back up.
“That’s why our skin heals,” he says, holding your injured arm in his hand, cleansing you of your pain. “So we can start again.”
He loves taking you out on trips – anywhere he knows you’ll like.
He just wants to see you feel something again. Or at least see a sliver of happiness light up your face, even if just for a second.
Petting zoo, amusement park, shopping trip, spa day – you name it, it’s yours !
At the end of the day, when you’re exhausted and König is carrying you home on his back, your 6’10 military princess is just happy that he gets to spend time with you, your warmth the best he’s ever felt.
And he’ll do whatever he can to keep it. To keep you.
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Soap
Initially, he’s in denial. But when he sees how tired you are, how grey your soul has become, his heart tears, and everything he’s ever felt for you comes pouring out.
He takes your hands in his, and, the feeling of tears burning his throat, he buries kisses into the back of them.
“I love you– so, so much,” he says, breathless. “You know that, don’t you ?”
The tone in his voice suggests haste, or perhaps desperation. The need for you to know that you are loved. Very, very dearly.
And when you start to cry, Johnny can’t keep his tears in any longer.
“It’s okay, my Love, it’s okay,” he tells you, voice low and soft.
He pulls you into an embrace from which you gather the impression you will never escape. Not while he’s holding on to you as if you could slip between his fingers at any minute.
“We can get through this. Together,”
His assurance is resolute as the sunrise in the morning, and you know, from the way he holds you, speaks to you, that what he’s saying is true.
“You’re okay. You’re safe now. We’ll be okay…”
Johnny makes a concerted effort to watch over you more from now on.
You still maintain your independence – that’s not an issue.
But if he can sense you’re not feeling too good, he’ll either ask if you want to talk about it or wait for you to come to him.
He trusts you to come to him when you’re ready, just as he trusts you with his heart.
He makes sure to ask what your boundaries are when it comes to talking about mental health, just to be sure that he doesn’t accidentally overstep or trigger you in any way.
The last thing he wants to do is upset you. He’d never forgive himself if he did.
And whenever you come and tell him that you’re feeling a little better today, or you found even just one, tiny thing to celebrate, like finding a cool pebble, he’s overjoyed, overcome with pride for your achievements.
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Valeria
She is daughter and heir to her own demons, but none of them compare to the thought of you harming yourself or being harmed.
Her initial reaction is anger, but not towards you.
Never towards you.
She wants to eradicate whoever or whatever has driven you to feel this way.
It will take some explaining that the source of your pain isn’t necessarily easy to vanquish, and even if it is, right now, all you want is comfort.
Valeria doesn’t cry. Not in front of you.
Instead, she pulls you to her chest and cradles you while you tell her all your worries, your problems, your sorrows.
And, when she settles you into bed, she embarks on a journey to rid you of your demons.
If they are caused by something external, it’s gone by the time morning rolls around.
If your habits are a result of something within yourself, Valeria will try to remedy it as best she can.
Hours upon hours of research, tending to you whenever you need her, letting you know she’ll never let anyone or anything hurt you–
“And that’s a Valeria guarantee !”
She never breaks out her humorous side, so you know she means it.
She does have the potential to become a helicopter girlfriend, so you’ll have to speak with her and establish some boundaries if there are some things you wish to do alone.
Valeria will understand, but she does get worried when she doesn’t hear from you every hour, and she has to resist the urge to send one of her men to check on you.
At the end of the day, she trusts you and knows that you are your own person, intelligent enough to make your own choices.
All she wants is to be able to be with you, and so long as you plan on sticking around, she will work to bring you a life that can chase away the shadows in your mind.
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Price
Due to Price’s fatherly nature, his immediate reaction is deep concern.
“Oh, Love,” he says, his brow creased as his discovery weighs heavy on his face. In all his years as a military professional, he’s seen many a mortifying scene. But none of them have hurt to witness as much as your suffering.
“Come and tell me about it,” he tells you, bringing you to sit beside him on the sofa. “Tell me everything, and I’ll listen.”
Whether you confide in him or not is entirely up to you; he won’t force you to divulge anything you don't want to. But he does remind you that “We’re a team, you and I. There’s nothing you can’t tell me – that we can’t tell each other.”
And he means it. Truly.
Whenever you stand by the doorway to his study, he drops everything and invites you to sit with him, on him – whatever you want to do.
And he listens to anything and everything you tell him.
Price is an incredibly intuitive, intelligent man, and whatever you tell him, even in passing fancy, you can expect to have it within an hour of you unintentionally requesting it.
Price once bundled you up in a blanket and carried you around the house, calling you “Love Bug”. Sometimes he uses it as a comforting tactic since it keeps you warm and you can be nearer to him whenever you want to be.
He calls you his “Brave little soldier” whenever he’s tending to your scrapes or cuts (intentional or otherwise), telling you how you’re the “Strongest warrior this side of the planet !”
He’s always looking for ways to make you smile.
It doesn’t matter what he has to do to achieve a result; for you, there are no boundaries to his love.
And yes, that includes making duck lips out of Pringles.
Or walrus tusks out of chopsticks.
And whenever you smile, no matter how faint, John knows that, regardless of how bleak things may seem now, everything’s going to be okay.
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Horangi
Given how mental health is rarely spoken about in Horangi’s birthplace, even stigmatised, he understands how difficult it can be coming out to someone about your inner struggles.
Initially, he sighs, though not out of frustration or anger.
But rather, understanding.
He knows there’s nothing he can say to make everything alright, but he wants to try and help you in any way he can.
And the first step is thanking you for opening up to him.
“I’m just happy you felt you could talk to me about this, 내꺼.”
He does everything in his power to make your life easier: doing your laundry, keeping your toiletries organised, preparing your meals; anything that’ll put a smile on your face or just make your day more bearable.
He doesn’t want you to feel as if he’s trying to sanitise the content you watch, but if he suspects or outright knows that specific topics or content triggers you, he’ll try to steer you away from it and bring you some safer alternatives.
He knows that everyone has different contributors and triggers so he never assumes that one specific thing may be yours; instead, he asks what makes you feel good, what doesn’t, or, if you don’t want to talk about it, he’ll try and use his intuition.
He’ll never force you to give something up, though. But he’ll gently advise against it if he feels it isn’t serving you in your journey to mental healing.
He teaches you how to ground yourself in a way that’s immediate and effective, and, whatever the weather, he’ll take you outside if you ask him to – to feel the rain or the sun or the snow, or to be held by the fog that rolls in over the oceans and mountains.
And he’ll always be there to hold your hand when you want him to, to be your shoulder to hold on to when you can no longer stay standing; your driftwood in the black sea, leading you to the lighthouse on a calm shore.
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Alejandro
After priding himself on being the one person in the whole world who knows you the best, he feels his world shatter.
Not because he’s been proven wrong – his ego does not come into this equation – but because he feels as if he could somehow have helped prevent whatever feeling has driven you to self-harm.
Alejandro is a strong man, both physically and emotionally. But seeing you like this, in a ceaseless sea of despair, he crumbles, falls to his knees before you as if you are God itself.
“Mi Amor…why ?” is all he can say. “What has caused you to do this ?”
When you explain to him that, sometimes, it’s not anything external at all, but entirely conjured within your own mind, your own worst enemy, he understands.
Even when he feels he has failed you, he refuses to allow you to come to any more harm, whether from yourself or someone else.
“We– we can get help for you, or– or we can just stay here, go out like we always do, go and see new things–”
Alejandro is the type to throw anything at the wall until it sticks. And by god, he is not stopping until something sticks.
He pays particularly close attention to you now. Not so much as to become a helicopter boyfriend, but enough so that you know he’s there.
He grants you your privacy, believes you are entitled to it as anyone else is, regardless of your condition.
But, if you disappear for half an hour or more, he’ll come to check on you.
He doesn’t want you feeling smothered, but he’s just so terrified of losing you that he’s not sure what to do for the best.
You may have to help him here. Let him know what you want, what you need, so he can do what is right by you.
He apologises for reacting the way he did when you initially told him. “It was…selfish, self-centred. I thought that I could just– destroy whatever was hurting you. But…now, I see that’s not how it works.”
Alejandro doesn’t rest until he knows you’re at maximum comfort and happiness (however much your mind will permit that day), and he will shield you from anything that could cause you to spiral, no matter what.
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Rodolfo
For the first time, he’s dead serious. His face goes straight and thin with what you think is consideration.
And he stays that way until he breaks his own silence, his eyes softening as he looks at you.
“Mi Sol,” he says, quiet, as if keeping a secret. And then, you see it. Just a flicker. But a weight bears down on his shoulders – one which wasn’t there before. But it isn’t a burden of weight. Far from it. And you know this when Rodolfo smiles, his eyes becoming glassy.
It’s the weight of love, of his heart taking on your load, halving it.
He holds his arms out to you, pulling you to him.
“Thank you for telling me,” he says. His hold around you tightens. “I know that can’t have been easy,”
From then on, he is at your beck and call – 24/7.
Though, this isn’t a big change given how he already willingly threw himself at any request you made. But now, he uses his intuition more. Taps into verbal or physical cues that let him know you’re not feeling all that good today, and so he’ll take over the chores and tell you to go and sit down.
He makes your favourite meal every night you want it, no matter how unorthodox it is.
Cereal and a plate of sausages ? You got it. Spaghetti with dino nuggies ? It’s already on the table.
The only time Rodolfo will ask you to do anything is when he thinks it’s for your own good – like taking a quick walk with him around the block so you’re out in the sunshine for a bit. Or washing your hair when he can tell it’s getting you down.
He never makes you do anything you don’t want to, though.
Nor does he make you talk when you don’t want to.
He listens whenever you come to him of your own volition. And if he can tell something is really bothering you, he’ll press once for any kind of information. If you don’t want to tell him, he drops it. But he’d rather risk your upset and try to find a solution to whatever’s upsetting you than live to regret it later when it all becomes too much for you.
And whenever you confide in him, he can’t hide how lucky he feels to have someone as special as you; even if you don’t see it right now, Rodolfo knows you’re the most important person in the world, and he won’t stop until you’ve grown into the person you’re destined to be, no matter how long it takes.
And he’s with you every step of the way.
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Graves
At first, he was overwhelmed.
Of course, he was hurt that you’d been suffering – and hid it so well, too.
“Darlin’... I’m so sorry – I should’a known or asked or– done– somethin’ !”
To rectify his self-proclaimed self-inattentiveness, he purchases the best therapist money can buy.
“So you can tell ‘em all about your feelings,”
He doesn’t realise how insensitive a gesture can be until it’s too late; it doesn’t even occur to him that you may not want a therapist, but just to speak to someone you know.
Someone like Graves.
And this is something you’ll have to teach him.
But, of course, this will also take time for him to adjust to.
“Well…I– uh…Are ya sure ?”
He cannot wrap his head around the idea that you could ever possibly want to confide in him about something so important, but he’s relieved that you do.
It takes time for him to understand that he doesn't need to have all the answers, or be a trained professional to help you feel better.
He just needs to be there.
To listen, to help whenever you ask for it (or when he can tell you want it).
He makes himself available to you as often as he can, sending others on business trips for him if he knows you’re encountering a particularly rough patch.
Your opening up to him inspires him to open up more, too.
Sometimes, late in the night, you sit together, awake, pouring your wine-darkest thoughts and patchwork memories into a never ending conversation.
Philip wants you to know that he’s always got time for you, so he joins you more frequently in your hobbies, and yours his.
Anything to simply be with you. And also to finish this cool bauble he’s started decorating.
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Gaz
Gaz is young; he grew up in a generation that values mental health above all else, so he knows a thing or two about helping people.
However, he never assumes to know anything and everything about your causes, your triggers, your contributors; those he lets you tell to him.
He’s always willing to listen, no matter how early in the morning or late into the evening it is; he lends you his ear whenever you need it.
He tries to take time off work whenever he knows he can so he can be with you. Especially if you’ve encountered a rough patch and have asked him for help.
If you choose to pursue professional mental help, he’ll come with you if you want him to – hold your hand for as long as you want, speak for you if you’re finding that words are escaping you and you want his help.
There’s nothing this guy won’t do for you.
Not that there wasn’t already, but now he does it even quicker.
Brings you a healthy snack whenever he knows you need or want one.
He partakes in new hobbies with you when your usual ones just don’t cut it.
Colouring, crocheting, antique collecting, drawing, writing – he’ll gladly follow you down any path you take.
He brings you things he thinks may help you feel better, if only for a minute.
Whenever you need a change of scenery, he takes you on a “Magical mystery tour !” (bundles you into the car and drives to wherever your hearts take you).
He tries to pick locations he knows are scenic – ones which are calming and not too densely populated.
The days where you want to be around people – humanity �� he brings you to the park, lays a blanket down for you and people watches with you the whole day.
At the end of the day, he won’t stop until you’re feeling better, be it by one percent or a hundred; any progress is monumental, in his eyes.
And he congratulates all your little victories with your favourite treats and days out of town – the country, even, when you’re feeling up to it.
He loves you so much, it’s unreal; he just can’t believe how lucky he is to have you in his life.
And he makes sure to let you know, whether through gestures or just telling you, every single day.
And he hopes that, even if you don’t believe it now, one day you’ll see yourself how he sees you.
The perfect human being.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
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hopeastrz · 1 year
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𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐘 𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒:🪷🦢
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𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 folks are never appreciated, even when they do their hardest. If you wanted the moon with it’s stars they’ll snatch them for you from the sky somehow, but unfortunately such a generous act is never appreciated. My mom has this placement and she is literally a superwomen, a freaking genie, she does everything in our home and gives everything (sometimes all the she’s got) but It’s always, every single time, never enough somehow. They really just need a big big hug🤍.
Where ever 𝐩𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐨 is in your birth chart shows you what you destroy in order to welcome or enter a new era in your life + it also means where exactly does your life completely shifts regularly.
For example: 11𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐏𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐨 ends every single friendship they have, disappear from all social media platforms or just literally ghost everyone for a while until they reinvent themselves.
4𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐏𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐨 individuals literally runs away from their family/home, and then come back brand new like hello mfs i know i disappeared in hell but you’ll still open your arms for me💀
9𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐏𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐨 changes 180° degrees during college, 2𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐏𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐨 after they start managing money or every new payment, and 10𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 during their career years.
2𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐬 always have to worry about money + their mothers might be their main provider even after they grow up.
4𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐫, 𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 4𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧, 𝐬𝐮𝐧, 𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬; prefer to stay home more than going out somehow, i have one of these placements and i can confirm that their houses are their main escapism.
𝐂𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 4𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 might indicate having lots of children, I’m talking like 3+ kids or smtg like that, maybe even more I’ve seen it many times. The funny thing here is that you might be completely against having more than 1 child lmao😭
𝐓𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐬, 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫, 𝐯𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐨, 6𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞, 2𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞, 4𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐬 might indicate cooking really delicious meals oml, you might be secretly talented in cooking and your food is heavenly i can’t shut up about it!!! Please send me meals thank you so much💋.
12𝐭𝐡/8𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬, 𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐬, 𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐢𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨 (12,24,8,20) are really shy when showing affection in general, they might think it’s inappropriate and really just enjoy having private love life, so that’s why they are such a secretive lovers. kisses only when no one’s around, hugs when nobody’s watching. Request pda once and you’ll be sleeping on the couch for the next week. Even if you beg them on your knees they sure as hell aren’t holding your hands in public sweetheart💁🏻‍♀️
The charisma people with 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐧 1𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 owns is indescribable, the way the talk and handle conversations is mesmerizing. 𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬/𝐬𝐮𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐲, 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐞𝐨 𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬 are honorable mentions too!.
Parents with 5𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 struggle to provide proper living for their children, like it’s really the bane of their existence.
11𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 if you gave them More time with their friends they might start worshiping them. Like please, their friendships are their main source of entertainment and happiness.
𝐒𝐮𝐧, 𝐥𝐞𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬 {5,17,29}, 𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐨 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 9𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 indicates being famous during your college and after it. My father had Pluto 29th degree in this house and his life completely changed during and after college for the better. god he was so freaking famous his name is whispered around college hallways till this day.
7𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐨 might stay virgins until they marry their spouse, same thing with 8th house vertex.
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