#but the betrayal and guilt hurt him worse;> | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shapard · 2 months

Text

Feather of Fate🕊️

Lucifer x Seraphim!fem!reader

Grab the Ice cream

Angst

NDA

Chapter 4 < Chapter 5 > Chapter 6

Lucifer carried you in bridal style into your room. He held you very gently, not wanting to injure even more than you already were.

Charlie wanted to talk to him, to comfort her father after the battle.

But looking at him she decided against it.

He was so concentrated on protecting you, so she'd be in the way.

Lucifers eyes were all on you, not caring about his surroundings.

His wings shielding any potential danger nearby.

This will not happen again.

…

You woke up with a pounding headache.

You winced when you opened your eyes, the pounding pain only doubled because of the sharp light.

A hand held yours tight but also so soft and gentle. With care.

The comforting feeling that creeps slowly in your chest making the headache slowly creep away.

And you already feel at home, even after what you’ve done Lucifer held you close.

You slipped your hand out of his.

Wanting to cry at the loss from that comfort you wanted to hold on longer.

But that would be unfair, unfair to him.

after what you’ve done. You couldn't look him in the eyes.

You betrayed him, hiding the truth from him because you didn’t want this to be just the bond.

Because you were insecure. Insecure because of Lilith, his ex-wife. Charlie spoke with you about her parents being divorced for a couple of years.

And you were afraid you couldn't be what Lilith was to him.

You were being selfish.

You didn’t even give him a chance to decide.

You want to hide yourself from the consequences.

Not wanting to face Lucifer with this guilt that bubbled up in you.

Lucifer stirred after your hand left his, his eyes softly opened.

Fluttering his eyelashes at you and it felt surreal.

You were awake.

And he gets a déjà vu like feeling.

It was how you two first met. Where you were hiding behind his blanket from him. It was so cute.

“Y/n?” You took a deep breath you hummed and still didn’t look him in the eyes.

You're too ashamed.

His heart squeezed, a shadow like pain making it hard for him to swallow.

A pain that you hate him, the pain of the betrayal. The betrayal he could understand in some kind of way.

He doesn’t know it better.

“How are you feeling?”

He tried to act normal, but it still hurts. And you could easily see through him.

He felt betrayed.

He felt hurt that he had to hear it from his older twin Michael with the soulmate bond.

Lucifer knows that Michael will use it against him.

Michael was the one who hates him the most.

The one who gave the others the Idea sending him to hell.

The one that destroyed his joy in life.

And when he found happiness, Michael was the one who’ll find a way to destroy this joy from his life.

Everytime, Again and Again and Again. A never ending circle.

Lucifer tried so many times to escape the suffer Michael gave him.

But it was always a failure attempt.

And now he tried to hurt you.

Was it his fault why you almost died?

Will he come back to get rid of you?

Did you hide it because you’re ashamed of him?

Did he take it too far?

Should he let you go? Is it that what you want?

Lucifer never felt this low in his life.

He can't take this anymore.

His eyesight started to blurry, and tears fell on your white sheets.

Ache.

This time you felt it, harder than ever.

He was hurting.

Not physical but mentally.

He always was.

He Tried to play it off with a small and jokes. Always working 24/7 to not think about the void that eats him from inside out.

He started to lose himself in this void.

The void he thought he deserved.

That’s what Michael always said to him, taunted him every night and day.

“I’m sorry.”

Your throat hurts from the still damaged vocal cord. it was hard to speak but Lucifer needs that apology.

The biggest of them all.

Your voice was hoarse, and you chugged down the water which he laid next to you.

Looking at the water reflection of you and him.

You looked horrible.

But Lucifer looked way worse. His hair was a mess and his eye bags were almost pure black. A whole contrast to his skin color.

Your words didn’t seem to be heard by him.

Finally, after a while you looked at him, smiling softly at him.

You touched his hand making him snap out of his thoughts. “You should sleep. I’m sorry-“ Your voice cracked at the end; but still you were not the victim here.

Lucifer was hurting and you felt it deep in your heart. The burning feeling in your heart felt like acid.

The burning consumed your chest which made it even harder to breathe.

The guilt of it is tearing you apart.

You hid something so precious to him.

He treated you like a princess, giving you clothes, a space to live, healed you. And the only thing that you did was lying through your gritted teeth.

And he’s still here in this very room, taking care of you and never leaving your side while you were out.

Protecting you.

Ache.

His frown only deepened when you told him to leave so he stood up and left, not even glancing at you.

...

Lucifer closed the door behind him.

He whines and then the sobbing followed. His act slowly falling apart.

The walls he set up and thought he could break through only thickened.

Did you really not want him?

After all that happened, he can understand somehow.

He brought you into danger, by just being his soulmate. Just because of his existence you were suffering.

That’s the reason why Lilith left him. That's why his twin hates him so much.

That’s how he got expelled from heaven. And that’s how he’ll lose his own mate.

As he reached his room, he didn’t spare a glance at his rubber duck collection.

It was all useless anyway.

He lets himself fall on his bed. A squelch left the rubber duck he had forgotten he made for you.

He took the duck and hugged it as close as he can to his chest. Imagining it would be you.

The tears he held back started to show. Lucifer sobbed and cried for the rest of the day.

It’s all because of him.

…

You on the other hand were sobbing too.

He felt horrible because of you.

You hoped that the sleep will help him a bit.

And after that you two can maybe talk this out.

Little did you know that this was so wrong.

…Time Skip…

Time flew past, and you hadn’t seen Lucifer anywhere.

At first it was days, then weeks and now Months.

The aftereffects of being apart from your soulmate were harsh.

You were way skinnier than before, and you couldn’t walk for a long period of time. Eating is hard and you were always so sleepy.

You missed your Luci so much; it has gotten so bad that if you see an apple you start to cry.

You missed his unfunny jokes and his little rubber ducks that were laying everywhere in your room.

Your friends in the hotel were worried about you.

You looked so weak, so weak that they’re scared that, if they touch you, you’ll fall into dust.

So you were bed ridden for the whole days.

Sitting in your Bed you were reading a book hoping it will help with the growing pain and void you felt.

The mark started to lose its opacity, making it seem like a faded scar.

It hurts,

has he already forgotten about you?

Maybe you should pay him a visit?

But did he even wants to see you?

Does he miss you like you miss him?

Someone knocked on your door very faint and softly.

You stood up walking as fast as you can to the door. Your pace was very slow.

You opened the door revealing a worried Charlie. You never saw her like that before.

"Is everything alright?” Even your voice sounded weak.

Charlie sighed and fiddled with the bottom of her shirt.

“It’s about my dad…” your eyes twitched, “Wait! Before you say anything let me talk first, please.” With a deep sigh you stepped to the side inviting her in.

“I know you both are on hard rocks but please, please talk to him. I’ve never seen him like this before. Not even after mom left. He doesn’t leave his bed anymore; he covers himself with his wings. And his wings lost so many feathers.” She sat down on the couch in the small Livingroom you had.

“He doesn’t talk to me, but he’ll talk to you. So please Y/n. I don’t want to see my own father like this, he doesn’t deserve this nor you.”

Charlie smiled but you could see right through her.

It was taking a huge tool on her.

She wanted to cry.

Vaggie stood beside her and stroked Charlies back in a comforting way.

You looked down at the almost gone mark.

Ache.

“I’ll go.” With a little happy dance Charlie grabbed your hand and walked with you to Lucifers front door.

Finally you stood in front of his door. You raised your hand into a fist, but you were Hesitant.

“Everything will be alright.”

You nod at Charlie's comforting words. That’s what you needed.

You knocked softly on his door, No respond.

You tried to open the door and it’s unlocked making you stumble forward.

You balanced yourself out and looked around the room.

It’s very dark in here.

You continued to look and saw him laying on his bed.

His wings covered himself in a comforting way.

You could see through the empty spaces where his feathers should be. But almost all feathers were gone, he was physically hurting. Because of the bond you two shared.

And because you hurt him.

Stepping forward you called out his name.

Lucifer only hugged himself tighter.

“Stop! She hates me! she’ll never come. Stop playing with me! Please stop.” He held his head tight and his screaming are mentally hurting you.

It sounded so sad, broken and in panic.

He was having a panic attack.

His breathing was uneven, and he shacked so bad.

His first started to thrash against any near surface.

In these last days he started to hallucinate from you. How you allure him into the depth of suicide.

He realized quickly that it wasn't you. This person was so cold and had no soul.

The void he was avoiding was starting to get to him.

Rushing to his side you tumbled a couple of times. ��It’s me Luci.” You tried to talk calm with him, not wanting to scare him even more.

He looked up at you, his eyes all red and puffy.

The eyebags under his eye only worsened than the last time and no shining into those beautiful scarlet eyes.

His slit snake eyes lost their emotions, it wasn't the beautiful scarlet you fell in love with. These were dull and without any life.

He shakes his head, thinking it was one of his illusion. He started to punch his head, he wants you not the Illusion of you.

He doesn't want to die

Not when it will hurt you. Because when he dies you'll die too. And he couldn't die in peace with the thought of you suffering

You grabbed his hand, stopping him from damaging himself even more.

“I’m here.” You whispered and took him into your arms.

"It's really me."

And then he broke, crying like a child that lost his favorite toy. Grabbing you so tight that you thought you can’t breathe anymore.

But you didn’t care.

The pain on your wrist slowly subsided, you didn’t even realize it was hurting in the first place.

His face was pressed in the crook of your neck, you giggle a bit as you felt his breath brushing the scar from the fight.

“I missed you.” Lucifer muttered between his sobs.

“I missed you too.” You let out a cry, fighting the tears that are threatening to come out.

“And I’m so sorry that I hid it from you. I was just so scared and a fool. Please don’t leave me ever again.”

“You don’t hate me?” He raised his head to take a look at your face. “I could never.” You said as you began to stroke his hair softly.

You two looked at each other in the eyes deeply.

“I’m sorry.” Lucifer said, “For what-“ His lips crashed on yours, you yelped at the sudden kiss but shortly give in.

The kiss was very passionate and slow.

Your lips moved in rhythm, his lips were so soft, and you melted right into them.

It felt peaceful, you felt whole and the void in your heart started to get filled with butterflies and joy.

You belonged with him. To him and he belongs to you.

You break the kiss looking down at Lucifer who was looking at you like he just saw the light of his life.

“I Love you Y/n.”

_____

Michael felt devastated.

He lost to his little brat twin brother, the one he hates the most.

it was giving him a hard time in heaven.

He threw things around him destroying the beautiful, expensive furniture.

He threw a vase at his older brother, but his older brother Azrael the death Arch angel, caught it luckily midair.

“You should calm down, geez.” Azrael put a vase back on its place.

Michaels blue eyes were glowing as he looked at Azrael, he was mad.

Azrael raised his hands in surrender, not wanting to deal with his childish Tantrums.

Michael growled and pointed at a lower-class Angel. “You!”

The Angel stood straight up, “yes sir!” Michaels wings were rustling at the anger that was building up in him once again.

“Bring Lilith to me.”

A/n: Poor baby

💫

@ayanazoldyck @marydragneell @lunaryasha @cherry-cola-100 @lxkeee @latersgaters-steven @fandom-crashlanding @cupidsgift @steadyconnoisseurnacho @crimsonflameproxy @stormz369 @wooleypeaches @fukingsad @starlitvenus @avadakadabra93 @itzabbeym

#shapard #y/n #hazbin hotel #hazbinhotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x reader

536 notes · View notes

melzula · 5 months

Text

Someone Else

pairings: Zuko x Princess!reader, Zuko x Mai

notes: i was writing smoke and shadow when i realized i should probably give more insight to zuko and mai’s relationship in the fire lilies universe before i delved into the story. also someone requested i cover their conversation on boiling rock so here it is :)

summary: Zuko is forced to confront his past

~ part of the fire lilies series ~

As Zuko struggled against the hold of the calloused prison guards who were dragging him away to whatever punishment awaited him, he couldn’t help but think of y/n.

He remembered the way she’d struggled against the crystals that held her and his uncle captive in the catacombs and how she’d urged him to go on without her to help the Avatar. Her eyes had sparkled beautifully in the light, and it had been the last time she had looked upon him with love and care. Now when she looked at him, her eyes were cold and void of any love for him. They looked upon him with anger and resentment, and he knew he deserved it. He deserved every last bit of her animosity.

Growing closer to the open cell, Zuko began to contemplate the possibility of Sokka’s plan failing. He feared he may never get to see y/n again and make things right, apologize to her for the hurt and anguish he’d caused, and she’d spend the rest of her life hating him for what he’d done. The chance of never returning to his Princess seemed a far worse fate than anything the warden had planned for him on Boiling Rock.

The guards finally toss the Prince into the cell, his body colliding harshly with the floor.

“I didn’t do anything wrong!” Zuko protests with a groan before pulling himself up onto the sole chair in the room.

“Come on, Zuko,” a voice chides harshly, its owner carefully emerging from the shadows, “we all know that’s a lie.”

“Mai?” Zuko utters in surprise, his stomach immediately twisting itself into knots. Guilt creeps in his gut at the sight of her, and he dreads the conversation he knows is coming. He’d hoped he’d never have to face her again, but it seemed fate had other plans.

“How did you know I was here?”

“Because I know you so well,” she replies sarcastically, her cold glare never leaving his slumped figure on the chair.

“But how-“

“The warden’s my uncle, you idiot,” Mai chides. Her features soften for a moment as she reaches into her robes, the heartbreak and betrayal overpowering her anger for a moment. However, her wrath returns as she presents Zuko with his own letter. “The truth is, I guess I don’t know you.”

Zuko is silent, his eyes guiltily scanning over the scroll. Perhaps it had been wrong of him to end their relationship in such a way, but she probably wouldn’t have let him live to see another day if he’d looked her in the face and told her there was someone else. How can you look the girl you’ve known since you were children in the eyes and tell her you’d only used her to get over your previous girlfriend?

“All I get is a letter?” She scoffs indignantly. “You couldn’t even look me in the eyes to tell me you were leaving me for someone else?! You couldn’t even leave me my dignity and rip my heart out in person?”

“I didn’t mean to-“ Zuko begins to say, but this only seems to anger her further.

“You didn’t mean to?!” Mai retorts before unfurling the scroll to read the letter aloud. “‘Dear Mai, I’m sorry that you have to find out this way, but I’m leaving.’”

“Stop!” He interjects, subtle irritation clear in his tone and his features. “This isn’t about you.”

“Right,” Mai drawls dully. “It was never about me. It was always about her.”

“Mai-“

“You told me she never meant anything to you, but that was a lie, wasn’t it?” She insists, and Zuko’s silence only infuriates her more. “Wasn’t it?”

“…It was,” he relents quietly, his guilty eyes finally meeting her stern gaze. “But this isn’t about her or you. This is about the Fire Nation.”

“Thanks Zuko, that makes feel all better,” Mai replies dryly before harshly tossing the scroll at his head.

Rubbing the spot where the paper had made contact, the Prince rises from his seat and looks at his ex with an empathetic gaze. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“Then why did you do it? Were you just dating me to get over her? Was any of it real, or did you just pretend I was her while we were together to make yourself feel better?”

“You have to understand I didn’t mean for things to turn out this way,” Zuko pleads earnestly, guilt clear upon his face. “It was never my intention to break your heart. I thought being with you would help me feel at home again, and in a way it did. You were familiar, someone I cared about. I thought maybe with time…”

“Did you ever even love me?!” She cries angrily. The truth was ugly, and the tightness in her chest was suffocating. How was she supposed to react to the news that she’d been used by the boy she’d been in love with since she was a young girl? She thought she’d finally won his heart only to learn none of it had been real.

Zuko remains silent, and that’s enough of an answer for her.

“You know, you two deserve each other,” she spits harshly, her words like venom. “A selfish Prince and a selfish Princess. I guess I know what you see in her now.”

“Don’t speak about her that way,” Zuko snaps. Mai laughs bitterly in return.

“I hope she’s not stupid enough to take you back. I hope she breaks your heart the way you broke mine,” she utters quietly. “You deserve it.”

“It’s not like that,” he argues, “I didn’t leave just for her. I have to do this to save my country.”

“Save it?” She repeats incredulously. “You’re betraying your country. Joining the Avatar and going after the South’s water bending Princess? You’re a traitor.”

“That’s not how I see it,” Zuko rebuts firmly. A tense silence fills the room as Mai indignantly crosses her arms over her chest and turns her body away from him. “And I hope you’ll see it that way too.”

“I won’t let you fool me again,” she replies coldly. Though her exterior is hard and angry, her heart is crumbling inside. Mai desperately wanted to know why she hadn’t been enough for Zuko. Why couldn’t he love her the way he’d loved the Princess? What did y/n have that she didn’t? Why her? Why not me?

Their conversation is cut short by the prison guard sent to protect Mai from the ongoing riot, and Zuko uses the opportunity to escape the cell and lock it from the outside. Though he’s free from captivity, he finds himself frozen in place by the girl’s gaze. Her eyes are full of wrath, but they shine with tears that refuse to fall. Locking into her intense stare, the guilt begins to creep up on him again. He’ll never be able to undo the hurt he’s caused her, but he hopes that maybe one day she’ll be able to forgive him.

Breaking away from her gaze, Zuko rushes towards the courtyard to join Sokka and Suki in their escape plan. Mai’s heartbroken eyes still haunt him, but the image is soon replaced with that of y/n’s. Unlike Mai, her eyes had been full of sadness when she’d been met with his betrayal in Ba Sing Se. She hadn’t been angry, she’d been disappointed, and that had felt worse.

His legs urged him to run faster now, his motivation to return home to his Princess stronger than ever.

Zuko was going to make things right, he had to. And he hoped she’d give him the chance.

~~~~~

| atla tags: @sirkekselord @chronic-daydreamer @niktwazny303

| zuko tags: @thebluelcdy @royahllty @the-firebender-girl @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @knaite-solo @taeeemin

| fire lilies tags: @titaniafire @emberislandplayers @kikaninchen-2 @music-geek19 @thia-aep @thyunnamed @haylaansmi @nataliahaslosthershit @idkdude776 @aangsupremacy @thirstyforsometea @ihaveaproblem98 @brown-eyed-thang @xapham @misnmatchedsox @chewymoustachio @that-bucket-hat-gal @chilifrylizard2 @kyomihann @kaylove12 @kiwihoee @freggietale @moon-spirit-yue @bubblegum-bee-otch

#fire lilies #zuko #mai #zuko x reader #zuko x princess!reader #zuko imagine #prince zuko x reader #prince zuko imagine #prince zuko #atla #atla x reader #atla imagine #mai is giving washing machine heart energy

505 notes · View notes

sourcherryandsprinkles · 5 months

Note

5 AND 9 Hello, I have an idea for Snow, I know everyone loves the tribute reader, but a request where reader is Snow's girlfriend and Seajunus's sister, and the cliché that he approached her at the beginning out of convenience (as if he wouldn't do it ) but ends up truly falling in love with her.

but instead of telling her the truth at some point, reader finds out through a mockery from his classmates. angst angst

Snow has a reaction similar to the one he had in the movie with the death of Sejaukus

‘’No one’s ever made me feel like this.’’ + ‘’I love you, is that so impossible for you to believe?’’

I decided to add my own grain of salt and change a few small things, but I hope you like it <3

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

The rumor was terrible and cruel, but unfortunately everything Clemensia had said was true.

The panic on his face confirmed everything. ‘’No! I mean, yes, I did, but let me explain—’’

Your response was swift, a mix of anger and betrayal. ‘’Are you kidding me? You approached me to get closer to the Plinth prize? This is worse than your classmates sucking my brother's ass to get in my father’s good graces.’’

‘’I was desperate to get the money. Without it, I can’t go to university,’’ he admitted, the weight of guilt and desperation heavy in his voice.

Or pay for rent. Or get food for Grandma’am and Tigris. But Coriolanus didn’t mention these last two. He would rather become the most hated man of Panem than reveal his family’s financial situation to anyone.

‘’Well, you can kiss goodbye to the prize. I doubt my father is gonna give it to a man who used his daughter.’’ You made a move to leave and walk past him, done with this conversation, but Coriolanus grabbed your arm in a firm grip.

‘’Wait.’’

You lifted your chin to look at him, tears of pain and rage filling your eyes. ‘’How can you do this to me? I loved you, Coryo. I-I thought you did too…’’

‘’I did. I do.’’ He pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes pleading for understanding. ‘’I love you, is that so impossible for you to believe?’’

Maybe he did love you…somewhere in his heart, but his betrayal hurt deep.

Before Coriolanus, you never dated anyone. Some guys had asked you out, but you were set on not giving your heart to the first boy in line. You wanted to pick wisely, not wishing to end up crying and hurting like your classmates.

You shouldn’t have assumed he was a good guy just because he was Sejanus’s friend. Turned out he was not who you had painted him to be.

‘’You don’t use the person you love for your convenience.’’

Coriolanus let go of your arm and lowered his eyes, silently admitting his wrong. ‘’At the beginning it was like that, but something changed as we were spending more time together and you were no longer just a way to get the money. I’m sorry for using you and I wish our relationship had not started on a lie.’’ He reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers together. ‘’I never lied about my feelings for you, though. Every time I said I loved you, I did. No one’s ever made me feel like this.’’

You wanted to believe him, he seemed honest, but lying was so easy for him. And if he was being honest about his feelings, would you ever be able to forgive him?

—

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @marzipaanz @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @Heartsforneteyamsully @aerangi @hallecarey1 @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @grxnde-dwt @lexasaurs634 @teeeree13 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @teeeree13 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis@Shasta89 @sierraluvz @specialk6802 @CZARINERA @katherinejess

Hunger games / BOASAS taglist: @crossyourmindrights @ziggyneedsabreak @folkloreshorts @runningfrom2am @soulessien @itzfckingreal @creedsofapollo

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow imagine #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes

917 notes · View notes

riverbutghost · 8 months

Text

Guilty Eyes

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!Reader

Summary: After getting(definitely not getting)your lieutenant shot, you felt guilty and didn’t leave your room or interact with anyone. But eventually, it had to be stopped.

Warning: Mentions of wounds, burns, curses… again rushed

“No-“

Simon pushed you out of his way pretty harshly, not even considering it in the first place to be honest. You stumbled and fell down, shrieking at the sight of your lieutenant getting shot.

“Ghost!”

You shrieked again, quickly getting up and rushing towards him. He closed his eyes for a second before holding his vest.

“I-“

He cut you off, his eyes shot opened as he heard your voice. He took a breath in.

“Don’t Sergeant. We’ll talk about your fuckin’ stupid behavior later.”

You were dumbfounded at his comment. What did you do?

“Wha-“

He cut you off again, making your headache worse.

“I said don’t.”

You shut your mouth and looked down. Maybe it was your fault that he got shot, and he was angry? You weren’t sure.

“Soap, right here!”

You yelled at the sight of your friend, who seemed scared just like you for his lieutenant. You looked down at his wound, holding it tightly just in case.

“Please…”

You mumbled to the air. You were scared, he could’ve let you save him and maybe get shot in the arm? But no, he was Simon fucking Riley, a stubborn ghost.

“M’fine.”

He muttered angrily, his voice cold towards you. Soap came right next to you.

“Oh my heavens, LT!”

You couldn’t help but feel guilty all of a sudden. If you were more persistent about saving him, he shouldn’t have been shot.

“M’sorry.”

You sniffled, and Simon’s eyes shot up to you.

“Don’t cry, m’fine.” His eyes softened, and his hand came right up to yours. He squeezed your hand and you shook.

“Heli is on the way.” Soap informed you two. You knew he would survive, but the guilt would never leave.

It had been a week since you last saw any of your teammates. You were in your room, constantly reading books or doing nothing at all. You would wake up earlier than them, eat anything you could find and work out. You would get a few snacks as dinner.

Today was the same.

You woke up around 5. You crept down to the kitchen and grabbed an apple, eating it while making your coffee. Putting your apple in the trash, you grabbed your hot Americano and turned around.

“Fuck!”

You shrieked as your hot coffee was met with a muscular chest. The person in front of you hissed, making you panic and put your mug down.

“Fuck- I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Fuck- I didn’t know-“

Your breath hitched as you made eye contact with Ghost. Your heart clenched. You closed your mouth and stared up at him.

He looked good. He looked healthy, almost like his usual self. But his eyes were heavy, with..sleep?

“Does it burn?”

You asked stupidly and he tilted his head. You just gulped and took his hand, guiding him out of the kitchen. Simon followed you like a lost puppy, eyes never leaving your hand on his.

As you were thinking about where to go, he took a quick left and slammed you into the wall. You gasped, heart pounding. It was like his mind switched off from being startled to angry.

“You didn’t visit.”

Your eyes dropped to the ground as his eyes were too much to handle. They were raging, but a little hurt was there too.

“I-“

You pursed your lips, looking up at him again.

“And wait, you tried taking the bullet? What the fuck were you thinking? You think it would be better? Fuck nah..”

You swallowed down the lump in your throat, not daring to look at him in his eyes again.

“I’m sorry-“

He slammed his fist into the wall next to your head. You flinched, eyes closing in an instant.

“Don’t fuckin’ lie. If you were sorry, you could have come and visit me.”

Your eyes started watering after his last words, because of the hurt and betrayal he had experienced.

“Don’t fuckin’ cry now. Jesus fuck..”

You looked down, even if he was right he was hurting you.

“I- I felt guilty. I feel guilty.”

You admitted after seconds of silence, and broke down sobbing.

Simon stood there, trying to process what you had said.

“I-I tried to take the bullet! You pushed me, Simon. I’m sorry but yo-you-“

Another hiccup stopped your sentence, snapping Simon out of his mindset.

“Why didn’t you come?” He rolled down after you, and you sniffled.

“I told you!”

Simon just shook his head, all the thoughts that were made up left his mind.

He took your hands off of your face and pushed them aside. He cupped your chin, stroking it gently. You looked up at him with soft eyes.

“I’m sorry, I thought you didn’t care about me. Because I care about you. A lot, sweet girl.”

Your eyes widened at the sudden confession, making Simon nervous about the thing he had said.

“I do. A lot, Simon. I’m sorry I should’ve came. Forgive me?”

Simon’s eyes softened a little, head tilted to the side as he got up and pulled you into his arms.

“I’ll forgive you, if you’ll forgive me.”

You chuckled a little, voice still hoarse.

“Okay,”

You smiled at him, throwing your arms around him as he started walking.

“Your coffee wasn’t hot, by the way.”

#call of duty #cod mwf2 #call of dooty #simon riley #simon riley angst #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley fluff #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #cod mw x reader

640 notes · View notes

revehae · 2 months

Text

hurts so good (2)

pairing ↠ mark x you x jeno

genre .. warnings ↠ unprotected sex, degradation, slapping, impact play, cheating, cuckolding without the marriage, brief mention of nonconsented recording

summary ↠ jeno proves to be the perfect remedy to your bedroom problems with mark, but not without cost. the longer you lie to your perfect boyfriend, the more guilt builds like a plaque in your chest. but is it enough to make you set aside your pleasure?

wc ↠ 3.9k

a/n ↠ this the second and final part of a repost. part one here! happy readings lovelies!

don’t like it, don’t read.

“fuck,” you moaned.

“don’t talk.”

you bit your bleeding lip, trying hard to comply in spite of knowing your attempts would be in vain and you would ultimately earn yourself a smack. later you would have to explain to mark why you had a bruise on your bottom lip, and likely the rest of you, but you were of no mind to be worried about that right now.

not when jeno was currently pounding you out against a wall.

you met his heavy stare. even his gaze made you feel small and dainty, like you could break if he just looked at you for too long. looking at you, jeno thought the same thing. you were such a pretty, fragile little thing, but you liked being broken just as much as he liked breaking you.

you wanted to loathe how good jeno made you feel in spite of hurting you all the while, but your body couldn’t lie and you were clenching around his thick cock, fighting back the most pathetic of whimpers. he was dangerously deep inside you, borderline fucking you into the wall as he tried to coax himself even deeper.

“jeno,” you cried out at a particular thrust, your back roughly hitting the wall. like he was of a mind to force you through it.

your legs tightly coiled around his waist, drawing him into you like you were afraid of letting go, gave jeno the perfect opportunity to wrap his hands around your throat, hissing, “i said shut up. i’m not afraid of choking you unconscious if it means you’ll shut that big mouth.”

one of your arms dangled from his neck, and you used one to weakly try to pry his hands off your throat, though to no avail. jeno was stronger than you could ever dream to be. “i can’t… jeno, i…,” you choked out, struggling to speak and breathe.

jeno chuckled darkly, tightening his grip. “you can’t what, baby? say it. i fucking dare you.”

though you tried, it was difficult given that jeno had you pinned to the wall by your throat. you loved how effortlessly cruel he could get, firmening his hold because he knew damn well what you were trying to say.

he knew that you were struggling to breathe, and he didn’t care, cruel enough to choke you out even harder. you adored his cruelness because it was everything you wanted and everything you knew you could never have in the long run. he was your biggest, most tantalizing temptation. when you left his apartment that day, you told yourself over and over that it couldn’t happen again, but you knew when you looked jeno in the eye after he came inside you that this couldn’t be a one-time thing.

and so it happened again. a few more times.

you were beginning to lose count of how many times you had made the poor decision of getting into bed with him again (or, in this case, onto a wall), but you tried to fight off the urge and ultimately succumbed to your need for twisted pleasure. a kind you could only find in jeno.

it made you feel bad when you lied to mark, a gut-wrenching feeling that made you bristle with self-disgust. don’t lie to me. that’s the worst thing you can do, said his sweet voice, replaying on repeat like a mantra in your head. you could see the look on his face when he found out, the sting of betrayal. with his best friend, no less. but you were too far gone to stop now.

the most sickening part was that you had a terrible feeling that mark wouldn’t even want to break up with you, he wouldn’t fault you. he would beat himself over it and find fault in himself, which was even worse because he had done nothing wrong.

so why were you letting jeno have what you swore to mark was only his - why did you keep running back?

you had tried to break things with jeno off, to restrain yourself and be a good girlfriend, but it never lasted for very long. it got to the point where whenever you told jeno that it had to be the last time, he would merely laugh in your face and scoff that you weren’t going anywhere.

he knew you too well. much like mark. it made you contemplate.

jeno let you breathe when you tapped his fist with your fingers and you sucked in a large breath like it was the last time you would ever inhale again. you never really knew with him.

“know a girl like you can’t keep quiet,” jeno said snidely. “feels too good, doesn’t it? you like being fucked like a whore too much to shut up.”

you tried to say no, to save what was left of your pride, but only a squeaky noise rose from the back of your throat.

jeno asked teasingly, “do you get this noisy with mark too, or just me?”

you didn’t want to answer, face hot with shame because you knew the answer and it didn’t in any way make you look good. jeno, of course, already knew the answer. he had heard enough about you and mark’s sexcapades from both sides. he just wanted to hear it from your own mouth.

jeno grabbed your hair, not in any way gentle, and growled, “that was a question. don’t act all shy now.”

“no,” you whispered.

jeno scrunched his brows as if he couldn’t hear you, pulling your hair even rougher. “what was that, baby?”

“no,” you cried out, partially from how forceful he was. “just you, jeno.”

jeno merely laughed and released his hold again. you swore it gave him some kind of ego boost to know he fucked you better than mark. you wondered if he cared, given that he was just as guilty as you for sleeping with his best friend’s girlfriend on more than one occasion, but he never seemed to give a damn. part of you envied his carefree nature, but another part of you wondered how he could be so shameless.

not that it mattered. you knew as well as he did that it wouldn’t stop you from crawling back.

“you’re the prettiest like this, you know,” jeno whispered, though not necessarily meaning it affectionately. “when you look like you’re falling apart, all these marks all over your body.”

you were so close to orgasm it was mind-numbing. and jeno was unintentionally going to be what brought you to the end, dangling over the edge.

“you’re close,” jeno stated, not even needing to ask. it was both awful and astonishing that he learned to recognize the signs. once upon a time, only mark knew your body that intimately.

you nodded. then, begged, “can i please cum?”

“cum around my dick, princess. just moan my name when you do,” was all he had to say in retort.

and a couple of moments later, you were doing as told, arms looped around his neck as you clang to him and your legs tightening just below his ribs. you sang jeno’s name, and the cry was so sweet it brought about his own climax, an even sweeter sound leaving you when you felt his load inside you.

then, jeno carried you over to his bed in his brawny arms and threw you on top of his mattress to fuck those sounds out of you again. and likely all of your sense.

“we really need to stop,” you told jeno after a couple of rounds.

jeno groaned, half-tempted to duck tape your lips. “you keep saying that. then, you hit my phone when you need a fuck and you’re on my dick again. make up your damn mind.”

“but i like it too much,” you whined.

“i could have told you that.”

you gave him a look.

“listen, it’s not my fault you keep spreading your legs for me. what the fuck do you want me to do when you’re the one begging me to fuck the shit out of you? tell you no?”

yes, because someone needs to control me. i can’t do it myself, you mused, having no rein on yourself whatsoever. your urges had a mind of their own. you couldn’t be the one to make yourself stop, and if he didn’t, then nobody would.

“don’t you feel the least bit guilty?” you asked, sorrow in your eyes. post-nut clarity was a bitch.

jeno shrugged. no, was the simple answer, but he didn’t feel like explaining himself right now. “is guilt stopping you from lying in my bed right now?”

“this isn’t about me,” you groaned.

jeno laughed at that. “please. this is all about you,” he said. “i’m the middleman here. i’ve only been doing what you wanted.”

“you should stop doing that.”

“then, leave,” jeno said nonchalantly, picking up his phone as he pretended not to care. “you act like i’m making you stay here. you have free will. but i bet you’ll be back in no time at all.”

and you were.

it was maddening that he was always right. what the hell were you thinking? you couldn’t give something as good him up for another girl to fuck, because you knew you could be replaced in no time. you couldn’t even convince yourself that you didn’t want him.

god, you had only been fucking him for a week and you were already addicted.

one night, you crawled into bed with mark after a hot shower, washing away jeno’s scent. you were facing mark, just staring at each other with complete awe, but a tear fell from your eyes.

mark immediately fretted, kissing your cheek chastely like he knew to and asked, “why are you crying?”

you shook your head. you couldn’t tell him. it would break you. “no reason,” you lied, whispering. “i love you.”

“i love you too,” mark said without a second of hesitation. he knew in his soul that you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. “i love you more than anything.”

don’t make this harder on me, you whispered to yourself, falling apart as you let your hand touch his pretty face. mark smiled at your touch, and you gave him a smile back. on nights like this, you could pretend everything was alright.

on the other end, mark didn’t know how to feel. you really thought he was a fool. and maybe he was. maybe he was foolishly in love with you, and that was why he pretended to not know. it was almost better that way.

he was still thinking about last friday.

how’d it go?

how do you think?

she’s glowing. what did you do?

it’s not that hard, mark. all you gotta do is slap her around a little.

i’ll keep that in mind.

still on for friday?

you bet.

wanna see?

mark furrowed his brows. what is there to see?

[jeno sent one attachment] when you jack off to that later, don’t let her see.

mark’s jaw slacked when he realized what the video was. you recorded it? what the fuck, dude?

you’re welcome.

you never noticed the far from perfectly hidden red flashing light, especially not bent over, too absorbed in how perfect jeno had been making you feel. mark had been reluctant to open it at first, but ultimately caved in to temptation, and he had gotten off to it countless times since then.

it made no sense how beautiful you looked being fucked into oblivion by a man that wasn’t him.

on friday when mark left to run errands, you were back at jeno’s door. he gave you a scan. he could feel your anxiety from a mile away.

“don’t say a goddamn word,” you hissed, walking past him and into his house.

jeno closed the door behind you, chuckling in amusement. and as if he didn’t hear you, said, “i gotta give you some credit. it’s been like, what, five days? you lasted a lot longer than i thought you would.”

you narrowed your eyes at him and snarled, “didn’t i just say…”

jeno cut you off with a kiss, backing you into a wall. it was intense and greedy, and you could barely keep up, letting him take the lead while his hands roamed all over your body. the more you moaned into jeno’s mouth, the rougher he kissed you. if you didn’t know any better, you would say he had been impatient himself.

you were both shirtless by the time he had pulled away from you, and your bra was thrown across his sofa in the heat of the kiss. you could see the arousal in his eyes, feel it in his touch, and it was driving you mad.

“i’m tired of listening to you,” jeno growled into your ear, breath against your neck. “you’re gonna do what i want.”

all you could do was nod. jeno crashed his lips against yours again and kissed you the whole way to his bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes in your wake.

you were so engrossed in the way his lips felt on yours that you didn’t even notice the other man in the room.

“breathe,” jeno told you when he pulled back, chuckling.

you giggled, trying to catch your breath, but when you caught a glance of the bed through the corner of your eye, you nearly leapt out of your skin, shrieking, “mark?”

mark was silently sitting on jeno’s bed, eyes fixed to you. the look on his face was so unreadable that you couldn’t tell what kind of thoughts were running through his mind and you were borderline afraid to. your heart was racing quicker than you thought healthy. you glanced at jeno, baffled, but he merely gazed back at you with a smirk.

you stiffened. “mark, i... i thought you were… what are you…”

“i overestimated you. i thought you were smarter than this,” jeno teased, shaking his head.

you were frozen in your skin, scared to speak.

“well, i technically was running an errand because i was talking to jeno about something, but you got here earlier than expected,” mark mumbled.

jeno chipped in, “in other words, you’re so needy you did all the heavy lifting for us.”

“i… don’t understand?”

jeno threw his head back. “how much more do i have to dumb it down for you? mark knew about us this whole time. he set you up.”

you paralyzed with cold realization. it was all beginning to add up now. jeno’s nonchalance and detachment in contrast to your nerves. he’ll be glad it’s just me instead of somebody else, jeno had once told you. to which you replied, you say that like mark himself told you that.

because he did.

you covered your tits, throwing mark a fretful glance.

mark knew you better than anyone and spoke up before you could, “i’m not mad.”

“why?” you asked. he should have been furious. he should have ended things with you then and there, if not a long time ago.

mark met your eyes tenderly and whispered, “because i just want you to be happy.”

this fucking loser, jeno scoffed to himself. “because he gets off to knowing somebody else is getting you off,” jeno added. “you know he asks me every detail of every fuck we have? he’s just as freaky as you.”

mark flustered. and so did you. maybe you were a match made in heaven.

“you both annoy the shit out of me,” jeno said, deadpan. then, he leaned into you and asked quietly, “wanna give your boyfriend a show?”

it was jeno touching you, but your eyes were fixed to mark. at those words, you noticed the slightest bit of excitement become visible in your boyfriend. what he couldn’t conceal, you saw glimmer in his eyes. so, without breaking eye contact with mark, you nodded.

“good girl,” jeno praised, before switching on a dime and growling, “bed.”

you knew what that meant. with no hesitation at all, you climbed into bed and mark gawked in astonishment at how quickly you presented yourself in a perfect arch at jeno’s command. he had you completely trained to bend to his will as if you were some sort of pet.

jeno was right behind you, grinning with unadulterated pride. he knew you belonged to mark, but you were also his now in some sick, twisted way. and he wasn’t about to give you back up. “good. you’re already watching each other,” jeno commented, amused. “don’t take your eyes off of him.”

“or else what?”

jeno grabbed you by the throat, but it wasn’t harsh at all, much more like a warning. “fuck around and find out,” he replied darkly.

that sent a shiver down your spine.

mark watched jeno position himself behind you, silent as could be. jeno slipped your panties to the side, not bothering to prepare you in spite of his size. he couldn’t imagine it. to mark, you were like some deity than deserved absolute worship. you moaned when jeno pushed inside you, tempted to tip your head, but fought it for now.

mark could feel his heart racing and arousal gripping him by the throat. he couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was something about this that made him mad with lust.

your lips parted, tears making your eyes burn. you could still feel the lingering bruises jeno had left on your body that you desperately tried to hide from mark, because not only were they proof of your trysts, but mark would probably kill anybody that hurt you. except for jeno, apparently.

“she’s so tight, mark,” jeno groaned like you weren’t even there. “it’s like she gets tighter every time she runs back to me. do you ever fuck her?”

“it’s been a while,” mark said, sucking in a breath. he was getting hard.

“clearly,” jeno mumbled.

you whimpered, nails digging into the sheets to anchor yourself when jeno picked up his pace. which wasn’t after long. he was fucking you into the mattress before you even knew it yourself, making it all too difficult to hold eye contact with mark, and you broke it, glancing downwards. it was an impossible challenge from the start, that all three of you knew.

“jeno,” you whined, trying to pry his fingers from your hips.

jeno glanced down at you, seeing what you were doing, and asked, “where does it hurt? here?”

you bobbed your head.

instead of making an effort to be more careful, jeno pressed his fingers down on the bruise, chuckling to himself when you cried out in a mixture of pain and shock. “eyes up, princess,” he whispered icily.

you brought your eyes back to your boyfriend’s, silently observing each other with a kind of telepathic communication. you had mastered that art in the past couple of years. there was no need for words.

it was lewd and taboo. never had you done anything that felt as wrong as this; letting your boyfriend’s best friend fuck you right in front of his face, watching each other the whole time. but he made no move to stop either of you, merely standing there like a complete fool.

ironically, you were starting to understand each other better that way.

you looked pathetic as ever right now, tears rolling down your eyes in a stream. you made the wise choice not to wear makeup today, but jeno wished you would have. he always loved the look of streaks of black mascara running down your cheeks. it made you look even more ruined. but you never got like this for mark; most of the time, it was you ruining him. you liked making mark fall apart without doing much at all.

though to be far, you had never seen this side of mark either. had you known he liked it that much, that would have made everything a hell of a lot easier.

maybe this new situation could mutually benefit the three of you. you loved the grunts jeno made when he was pressed deep inside you, dragging his cock against your velvet walls. you liked when he put his hands on you and you could feel the sting for days. and you knew jeno loved fucking you, almost as if he couldn’t get enough of your body.

“harder,” you cried.

jeno cocked a brow. “you want it harder? you look like you’re about to break, princess.”

all you had to say to that was a hoarse, “break me.”

that jeno had every intention of, with or without your blessing.

mark was painfully hard at this point and made a move to take his clothes off, but jeno interrupted, “don’t touch yourself.”

mark shot him a look, flabbergasted and unsure if he should have listened or not.

jeno beckoned him to approach the two of you. it was as if he had taken control of your relationship now. he flipped you onto your back, resulting in you emitting a loud sound of surprise. “hit her, mark,” jeno commanded, watching your face tense. “do it.”

mark stammered, “i… i can’t.”

“oh, for fuck’s sake. must i do everything for you?” jeno groaned, irritated. “it’s easy. i’ll show you.”

the pleasure of knowing he was about to hit you fused with the pain of his palm on your cheek and blended into something inexplicably erotic.

“see, the freaky little bitch likes it,” jeno commented, pointing out the dazed look on your face. “your turn.”

mark hesitated. he never wanted to hurt you, that was why he had gotten jeno to do the job. well, part of the reason. inwardly uttering a couple of motivational words to himself, mark gave you a weak smack to your cheek.

“lame,” jeno deadpanned. “but progress is progress.”

“harder, mark,” you whimpered, smiling up at him. “please? for me?”

mark could never tell you no when you looked at him like that, begging him with that sweet voice. so he gave in, hitting you again, even harder. you made a noise, face turning to the other side, which worried mark before he ultimately realized it was a sound of pleasure.

jeno laughed, on the verge of applause. “would you look at that.”

“did you like it?” mark asked bashfully. curse his need for validation.

“mm-hm,” you hummed, sighing out in content.

mark smiled a tiny bit and his eyes fell down the rest of your body, spotting bruise after bruise. he had to give you credit; you had done an amazing job at concealing them, though the lack of sex definitely helped. now that you were naked, they were everywhere. apparently, jeno only put them in areas where they wouldn’t be immediately visible. he started to kiss them, one after the other, and much to your surprise, his tenderness somehow brought you even closer to finish.

“i’m so close,” you told no one in particular, merely putting it out there.

“come on, baby. show mark what it’s really like when you cum,” jeno said, grabbing a handful of your hair. “gonna let me fill you up with your boyfriend right there?”

you could do nothing but nod. you were chasing relief, chasing satiation.

then, the thread snapped, and you came hard as ever. jeno was whispering mean words in your ear and all the while, mark was showing your body in affections, the contrast strong enough to give you whiplash. you moaned when you felt jeno finally cum inside you, and he pulled out to watch it drip from your stuffed cunt.

jeno glanced to mark and asked tauntingly, “need another tutorial or do you got it this time?”

you tried to catch your breath. maybe you could get used to this.

#lee jeno smut #mark lee smut #nct dream smut #nct dream hard hours #nct smut #jeno smut #nct dream scenarios #revehae fics

333 notes · View notes

null-skull · 29 days

Text

Monsters learning to be human is one of my favorite tropes in stories and I love the way Malevolent handles it. Yes, John learns that he’s more than his past and learns to love Arthur and humanity, but not only does he “become good” he is also gains all the selfish emotions that come with being human.

Take lying for example. In seasons 1 + 2 he lies because that’s what he knows as the King in Yellow. He lies and manipulates for his own benefit. He does so uncaring how that affects Arthur because he is just an end to a means. And it’s hard to tell when he’s lied as he only points it out when he knows it would hurt Arthur.

Compare that to season 3 + 4. Despite lying being the core of who he was as the king, he gets kinda bad at it. It’s pretty clear that John is hiding things from Arthur about what happened to him when they were separated and why John wants to go to New York. He begins to sound so unconfident in his words because he now understands what he’s doing is wrong. Instead of lying to manipulate and hurt Arthur, he’s lying to try and hide the fact that he’s hurting him. He’s so scared of the repercussions of the bad thing he knows he did, that he lies to cover it and pretend it will all blow over. It takes a lot of guts to admit your own guilt, and deciding to shrink away from it instead is so human.

When John admits all his lies to Kayne in part 40 he just sounds so desperate. He truly believes that he’s in the home stretch. That just a little more lying and everything will be done and he won’t feel guilty anymore. He decided he’ll tell Arthur when it’s over because he believes Arthur won’t be that mad, that he’ll think “you did something bad, but it all worked out in the end so it’s okay”, but we all know that’s not how that works. He’s so horrified when it’s revealed Arthur heard his confession because he knew what was coming, all of Arthur’s feelings of betrayal, disappointment, and anger, and he wasn’t ready to face it. He feels so guilty that he probably can’t imagine Arthur understanding and forgiving him.

Of course Kanye’s deal makes this worse. John once again knows that this is wrong as he hesitates at the beginning. But once Arthur begins to threaten him to not take the deal, John decides to take it, once again trying to run away from the repercussions of his actions. John doesn’t know yet that lying more only makes things worse, and Kayne knows this and gives him one more bump to trip on before leaving John to the fate that he has been avoiding for so long.

Of course it’s enjoyable to see John gaining his humanity. Him showing compassion, sympathy, and enjoying the mundane parts of life like admiring the view or wanting to watch a movie. But humanity is a double sided coin that comes with emotions like jealousy, selfishness, and envy. It’s frustrating to see John make all these decisions that we know are wrong and will have bad consequences, but he hasn’t been in this position before doesn’t know how this will all play out yet. And we just have to watch him learn the hard way.

#it’s john apologist hours #and while Arthur definitely would be upset #I feel like if he told him earlier Arthur would pretty easily forgive him #he already knew John was lying and went along with it anyway #but now that johns actions lead him to be stuck in the literal Middle Ages with nothing #it’s definitely not gonna go well #malevolent #malevolent spoilers #john doe malevolent

219 notes · View notes

peachesofteal · 9 months

Note

The dead disco break up Pregnancy au got me in my feels all day. Literally all day.

And all I can think about is when the guys get home? Find her not at the apartment and they’re both like, “can’t blame her, I get it” and are over come with guilt. Their own relationship getting a little rocky. Maybe Johnny gets frustrated more easily with Simon. Simon withdrawals a little more into himself bc that’s how he handles pain and grief. But they make it through. They always do. Until they find out about darling and the baby. However that happens, be it in a grocery store or whatever. But Simon comes from a very traumatized childhood. He sees the baby and just knows. That’s their kid. And is overcome with so much grief bc now he’s no worse that his dad is he? What’s worse than someone that’s there and beats you? Someone that’s not there at all. Not knowing. And he has always promised himself he’d never be like his father, but than this is just too close to comfort.

I imagine he surprises not only himself but Johnny and darling the most when he ends up doing something drastic. There were no words he had to defend himself or Johnny. He’d be mature. Whatever it takes, whatever darling needed just let him be in his child’s life, let him be in your life, let him do better. Don’t LET HIM HAVE THIS WEIGHT ON HIS SHOULDERS.

Darling would have more whiplash than Johnny but even Johnny is taken back by the lengths Simon would go? (Getting out the military? Domestic security and law enforcement jobs so he can be home? Idk?) but Simon just comes out of no where, with “I’m here. I’m not going no where. I’ll spend the rest of my life making this right.” Bc he does love darling and he does love Johnny, but that kid? He’d move heaven and hell for that kid. It was Ryan Reynolds who was like “I love my wife, love her more than anything. Then we had our baby girls and realized I would use my wife as a human shield to protect my kids” As a joke of course but it’s to that extent. Simons 2 priority’s become taking care of that child and mending the relationship between the three of them, not bc he loves them (he totally does, and his devotion to his partners is infallible) BUT BECAUSE that kid needs to know what healthy relationships are based out of love and communication not grief and missed social cues and resentment.

Simon takes fatherhood seriously. Most serious job there is. And he’s not going to let darling’s (low key selfish) feelings of betrayal and self deprecation keep him from taking care of his child and said mother of that child.

———

Johnny however? He’s the one that’s hesitant surprisingly. He’s hurt. Beyond hurt that you wouldn’t tell them something like this. It’s the adult thing to at least say something right? Even if they did leave. This is more than them now. And he goes along with Simons initiative to fix all of this but Johnny needs some serious reassurance and maybe an outlet for all this anger and hurt he has. And there’s so much going on that it’s easy for Simon and darling to kinda miss that a little bit,

Until Johnny doesn’t want to hold the baby. Says he’s scared he’d drop it. But Simon knows better.

Johnny feels lost.

Darling feels lost.

Simon is their beacon of light in the darkness.

It comes down to the sexiest night known to human existence, and a lot of crying and confessions while fucking all those emotions out. Simon has always known how to get these two to let down their walls. Breakfast is for figuring out detail’s schedules ect. But that night? That was them fixing it. Letting go and moving forward. In the sexiest. Way. Possible.

^look what you’ve done to me. I’m serving alcohol at a bar thinking about these characters, THE DISTRACTION IS REAL AND I NEED MORE.

You’re fantastic. I hate you for doing this to my brain. Love ya!

Um… hi? Hello? Come back. Let’s talk about this more, let’s break it down. I am obsessed with this. I love this. 🩵🩵

Simon goes into protective overdrive the second he see’s you. Not sure how or when or where it happens, but Bee is not even two months old, and he doesn’t even need to ask you. She’s so little, cocooned in a linen wrap, cradled to your chest, and he already knows. How could that baby be anyone’s but their own?

He does exactly as you’ve described, drops everything and retires early. Price and Johnny always thought he’d make captain soon, but none of that matters now. His military aspirations have meant less and less every year since he met Johnny, and meeting you only sped his career’s ultimate demise along.

He’s not going to let the cycle repeat. He’s not going to let his child grow up and feel like they’ve been abandoned by him. He’s not going to let Bee grow up without him being there. Loving her. Supporting her. He won’t be his father. He refuses.

You agree to let them see her, and agree to let them take her for nights or days if they’d like. But you won’t let them in. Won’t do much more than co parent with them, won’t engage in anything real with them, won’t give them a single inch. You stonewall them, block them out, give them excuses and refusals at every turn. Sure, they can be in their daughter’s life… but they can’t be in yours.

While Bee is important, you are too. He wouldn’t use you as a shield to save her, he’d save you both. There’s no option. No choice. You’re the love of their lives, the now mother of his child. He’d lay down and die for you.

But none of that matters. You won’t let them in.

It drives Simon insane. He’s understanding, and mature about it, and patient (compared to Johnny, who’s running hot over it… frustrated, agitated, consistently visibly upset, holding onto his anger and resentment over the fact you never came forward and even told them about Bee. Johnny can’t get over that you went through everything alone… can’t understand why you wouldn’t tell them, give them a chance to be there for you.. and it stings. It hurts him, so fucking much, and that hurt melds into anger, it burns into his heart and twists his feelings until they’re a jumbled mess.) but he can’t seem to make you understand that they love you, that they thought about you everyday when they were gone, that they mourned the end of the relationship. It’s not just about the baby, they were coming back for you no matter what. They knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that they weren’t meant to live their lives without you. They made a mistake.

But… they fucking abandoned you. And now they come back, and see that you have a baby and just decide they want to be back in your life? No. Absolutely not. They didn’t want you anymore, before Bee… nothing has changed. You won’t let yourself fall back into their grasp, and you’re so adamant about that that you fight them nearly at every turn. Can they take Bee? Sure. But “family trips” to the store? “Family trips” to the park? Not happening. You pack her diaper bag and kiss her goodbye, while Simon watches you with an intense scrutiny, eyes tracking your every step while he holds little Bee is his giant hand. He doesn’t miss a single thing, doesn’t miss the way your hands shake when you press a sweet kiss against her cheek, doesn’t miss the way your body moves sluggishly, like you’re exhausted, even after the nights they’ve had Bee, which means you should have gotten plenty of rest. Johnny just stands in the corner and stares at the floor, hands in his pockets during these exchanges, practically unwilling to engage with you in any way because he’s just so… upset with you, still. He’s better with Bee, loves her dearly, but can’t get past what he’s holding inside of himself, can’t get past how he feels so betrayed you, even though a part of him thinks he has no right to those feelings.

I love your last little bit - about the night Simon breaks you and Johnny apart and then puts you back together. There is something very similar/along those lines in the actual fic outline.

BUT ALSO… let’s imagine: They try to fix it. They try to get you to let them back in, to open up to them, to let them be there for you. As time goes on, Johnny changes, the red hot fire of anger that burns inside of him eventually goes out, lovingly smothered by Simon, and his resentment and feelings of betrayal all melt away. How could he ever have felt those things, when you were the one who was left all alone? Pregnant, with no way to contact them? He lets it all go, fully embracing parenting with you and Simon, trying to get back into your life, trying to love and support you from afar, any way they can. They start to notice a change in you… you seem a little happier, a little lighter on your feet, a little more relaxed and they think it might be working… that you finally might be growing more amenable about letting them in, about building back the relationship.

Until… they show up for Bee’s first birthday party, and there’s a man with his hand splayed on the small of you back in the backyard, holding you, tugging your body into his, while Bee shrieks and giggles on the blanket in the grass. There’s another man, watching their daughter, holding their darling girl close, while they stand in the doorway, shell shocked.

#peaches asks #disco baby au #ghost x soap x reader

548 notes · View notes

ineffably-human · 10 months

Text

Nandor's better to Guillermo than I remember from my initial watch. It's still regressive (and it was starting to head that way in 4x10 too, so maybe this just continues from there), he still has times he's thoughtless and dismissive. But he's the one advocating the others listen, and that they do nice things for Guillermo. He's noticed something is wrong just like Laszlo, he just comes to a different conclusion. He listens to an offhand remark from Guillermo that wasn't even directed at him, just to get him a present.

Any shittiness he's engaging in comes from the very idea of Guillermo being a vampire. (The way Nandor brings that up to the others almost feels like he's been floating the idea in his head, which is a whole other thing; I'll see if I'm right with more episodes I guess and we'll take it at face value for now.) And aside from not wanting that to happen because it would change things, maybe lead to Guillermo leaving, etc it's laughable to him right now for the same reasons it would have been laughable to him in season 1 or 2. Guillermo is a little more assertive than in those years, but he's completely returned to the familiar role. He's reacting to Nandor with fear, more than he did even then.

Guillermo's big attitude change came with being a slayer, and now he seems to have forgotten that completely to the point that he doesn't even consider it as one of the reasons the transformation hasn't worked. He wasn't ready, he was in pain, this isn't how he imagined it (insert @cookinguptales's excellent meta on how it's all a big metaphor for virginity loss). And right now he doesn't know what his body is doing, and he's walking around consumed with guilt and imposter syndrome. Becoming a vampire is making him forget other real, important parts of who he is.

I think it's very easy for the vampires to regress - because of time, stagnation, etc - to an earlier point. Guillermo's regression is just as rapid-fire but it's from trauma. His intense desire to not want to talk about it, to wait over two weeks before the camera crew wears him down enough. To try and describe the turning as sexier and more intense and life-changing than it was, only to be jump-scared by Nandor and reminded that what he did was a (fully justified) betrayal. Has he forgotten that if Nandor really did want to kill him, Guillermo's kicked his ass without his now-perfect vision, and has killed dozens of vampires at a time? Or is the thought of hurting Nandor and fracturing that relationship the thing that hurts far worse here?

I'm a little insane about how, while in the process of going behind Nandor's back, while he's right about to get the thing he's ostensibly attached to Nandor for, he's insisting that Nandor will eventually do right by him and really truly cares about him. So much that Derek again asks Guillermo if he's sure about this.

Even more than the love search stuff Nandor dealt with over two seasons, all of this seems tailor-made to address the big unspoken questions of their relationship. What does Guillermo hope to gain as a vampire? How much of that involves his feelings for Nandor? What matters most to Nandor when it's Guillermo vs his own pride, especially if there were a real threat of losing him? Can they actually find their way to eternity together, and what does that look like when they do?

Which is to say, it's absolutely happening this season. And shit's going to get insane on the way.

#i haven't even started on the hypnosis runner and how the theme of this season is absolutely secrecy #that's a whole other (much better) essay #this is just me vomiting some thoughts out #fandom: wwdits #wwdits #what we do in the shadows #nandermo #otp: nandermo #i am a meta gremlin

572 notes · View notes

skyewritesstuff · 5 months

Text

tim mcgraw (peeta's version)

my masterlist.

entry 1 in my (taylor's version) songfic series.

summary: of all the ways the games could take peeta from you, you never imagined it to be like this.

pairing: peeta mellark x reader (set during the aftermath of the first book)

fandom: the hunger games

warnings: none, it's just sad!

notes: based on tim mcgraw by taylor swift. has been beta read.

word count: 3.4k

Peeta Mellark.

You’d heard his name spoken countless times in your life. Teachers called on him, hoping for an answer. His father confronted him on whether or not the daily tasks for the bakery had been completed. You’d asked him to go on walks with you, to teach you how to bake, and to lay on your backs in your small backyard, staring up at the night sky.

However, when Effie Trinket spoke his name, she wasn’t simply asking for a tribute; She was sentencing him to death.

The walk to the room where the blonde was being held, awaiting the impending trip to The Capitol, felt like it took days. The stares of the other District 12 residents made you feel as if you’d been selected yourself, but in a way, it felt like you had. You knew that the second the cannon fired in the arena and Peeta’s handsome features were shown on screen for the final time, a part of you would go with him. It was inevitable.

As soon as you were ushered behind the heavy wooden doors, you locked eyes with the blonde. He very visibly released a breath that he must not have even realized he’d been holding before stepping forward.

The peacekeeper’s gruff voice from behind you broke your trance, “You have three minutes.”

Tears brimmed behind your lashes. “Peeta…” Your voice cracked and his name exited your lips sounding more like a question, as if you were asking him if this was reality.

“Y/N, it’s going to be okay. I promise.”

You didn’t know whether to finally let those tears fall or to scream and push at him, hoping to knock some sense into him that this was not going to be okay. However, the shakiness in his voice indicated that he might’ve already been aware of this.

“N-No…No, it’s not…it’s never going to be okay again.” The tears began to fall rapidly and your hands covered your face, hoping to shield the boy from a guilt he had no reason to harbor.

With a delicate touch, he reached up and pulled your hands away with his, shushing you gently and pulling you into his body. His arms wrapped around you tightly. The embrace felt like all of his embraces before every reaping since you first began dating at fourteen: finite. Except this time, it was.

“Listen, I need you to stay strong for me, okay? You’re going to be on my mind the entire time I’m in that arena…and you’ll be the last thing I think of before the cannon sounds. I love you. It was never supposed to end this way.”

This time, he looked like he was going to dissolve into his own tears that he was quite obviously fighting back. You reached up and wiped at your eyes.

“N-No…there’s not going to be any cannons…you have to win.” You tried to force a smile to impact his overall mentality, but his facial expression remained unchanged.

Peeta chuckled, “I can’t make any promises…”

“I love you…” the statement came out weakly, tears falling slowly down your cheeks, “I love you and I need you to come home.”

“Time’s up.”

You both shared one, rushed, final kiss before you felt a strong hand on your back all but jerking you towards the exit, tears streaming down your face.

Little did you know, he would come home, but the version of you who he came home to was vastly different from the one he left behind those big wooden doors on reaping day. You both had been so changed by the games. He’d faced horrors unlike any other and you’d faced a betrayal that hurt worse than any death you could’ve faced fighting alongside him in the arena.

From the stares you got at school and around town to your mother’s now disapproving tone towards the blonde, wishing his demise at every new turn in the games, Peeta’s infamous interview turned your world upside down. You wanted to believe it was all some big scheme for the games, hoping that if they played as lovers, they’d win the favor of the Capitol…but Katniss was also a known loner. He never would truly have a chance to interact with her or engage with her in a way that would not result in him being coldly pushed away if he’d not been forced to compete with and against her.

Who’s to say he hadn’t harbored feelings for her all along knowing that they’d never be requited? Then again, who’s also to say that him mentioning you, his partner of two years, would be enough to bring sympathy and sponsors from the Capitol? You watched the games every single year. There was always at least one sob story about someone who had to get back to a significant other and that never changed their fate in the games.

You looked at yourself in the small mirror on the wall of your home, letting two French braids out of your hair so that they cascaded down in waves. Your head was beginning to hurt right at your left temple, a feeling you’d grown too accustomed to over the time frame of the games. Between the headaches, sleepless nights, and tears, the mental gymnastics every move Peeta made in the game had taken its toll on you.

“I cannot believe you’re still going to see him. He embarrassed you. He made a fool out of you in front of the entire country, but especially in our District and you’re still going to see him.” your mother looked up from some sewing she was doing right as soon as you dropped to your knees beside your bed and pulled out a box. On top of some pictures of you and Peeta, drawings he’d given you, dried flowers, and a variety of other things you’d collected throughout your relationship was a letter simply addressed with his name. You picked it up and tucked it away in your bag, shaking your head at your mother’s comments.

“I…have to. I have to just…get closure. I can’t move on if I don’t just…figure this all out in my head.” Your hand played with the strap of your bag as your mother shrugged in your direction, still mumbling under her breath as you exited your home and started towards Victor’s Village.

Part of you wanted to see him just to make it concrete in your head that he was alive because part of you doubted the allowance of two victors in the games. The other part of you wanted to avoid him at all costs so you never had to face the conversation to come, which could lead to you losing the love of your young life.

You made your way up the cobblestone road, your eyes fixed down strictly out of nerves. You admired the different stones under your feet as you headed on, only glancing up when you realized you needed to identify which house belonged to Peeta. You knew which home belonged to Haymitch, but there were lights on in two other houses. You surveyed their appearances until you observed a barely noticeable billow of smoke coming out of the chimney, perhaps from an oven.

You walked up to the front porch of this home and knocked gently, your hands quickly flying back to the strap of your bag, twisting it back and forth as you waited.

A brunette answered the door, looking perplexed as to why you were standing there. You took in her harsh stare, her side braid, and the wound on her forehead and took a hard swallow.

“Oh…” Your eyes fell to the ground again.

“Can I help you?” Katniss asked. Her tone wasn’t as harsh as the way she’d been eyeing you. She sounded confused and you didn’t blame her.

A laugh sounded from behind her, causing you to look back up and over her shoulder. Haymitch Abernathy stood off in the distance, taking a swig from a longneck bottle, shaking his head.

“H/C hair, E/C eyes…this is the real game right here.” He took another sip, “I’ve been interested in this since the train home.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Haymitch?” Katniss asked, looking from you to Haymitch and then back to you.

“That’s Lover Boy’s real lady.”

“Oh my god…”

“Is…”

“Wrong house…” Katniss took a hard swallow herself, looking rather uncomfortable. She opened her mouth to speak a few times, but then ultimately decided not to. “Can you just…give him this…please?” You reached into your bag and withdrew the piece of paper that you’d spent many long nights pouring into since the night of the interview.

“Uh, sure, but he lives…” she began to gesture with the piece of paper, but you turned and walked away, arms wrapped around your midsection as you felt your chest begin to tighten and a lump began to form in your throat.

You heard Haymitch call something out from behind you as you picked up your pace and exited Victor’s Village. You felt stupid. You should’ve just gone next door and either given Peeta a piece of your mind, tried to talk this whole situation out, or just slid the letter in the mail slot on the door and continued on home.

Who knows if Katniss will ever actually give him that letter, especially if she’s harboring some kind of feelings towards him that she wants to make sure stays locked down. You let out a long sigh and then quickly changed your direction. You weren’t ready to go home and face the cruel commentary your mother would spew the second you stepped onto the threshold of the house.

Instead, you went to your backyard, staying out of the way of the windows so that you couldn’t be seen. You sat your bag on the ground and stared up at the sky. The sun was just starting to set and it was turning the beautiful shade of orange that Peeta loved and would try to capture with his paints. The lone thought caused your chest to ache and tears to well up in your eyes again. Except this time, you allowed them to fall.

As you looked up into that orange sky, you began to recite the letter to yourself internally despite the thoughts being placed out in the open the second you turned the piece of paper over into Katniss’ hand.

Peeta,

I don’t know what to say. I needed you to come home, but not like this. I’m glad you’re alive. I will always be glad that you’re alive, but why her? You looked at Flickerman and thought before you spoke. You could’ve talked about me and you didn’t. Maybe it was a strategy. Maybe you took this as your chance to finally address feelings you’d harbored for Katniss. I don’t know, and I guess I’ll never know. Regardless of what the reason is, I want you to be as happy as you can be as a victor coming out of the games and if that’s with Katniss, then it’s with Katniss. I’ve never been one to care about the opinions of others, but when you have grown adults making fun of the fact that your boyfriend left you the second he could and commenting in passing about how you left and then used the games as a matchmaking service…I’d look like a fool to ever be seen holding your hand in public again, even if I want nothing more than to do just that.

I will forever be proud of you for what you accomplished. You fought so well and demonstrated your abilities physically, artistically, and mentally in the arena, but what you said in your interview was so shortsighted and rash that I don’t feel it’s something you and I can come back from. I don’t know if I’d ever be able to lay next to you again without wondering what was truly going on in your head in those few seconds of hesitation before you began to profess your love to Katniss.

I love you, Peeta and I will always love you…and I thought you loved me. I just hope that you don’t harbor any negative feelings towards me when you read this. Know that this was not a sudden decision and that it took the entirety of the games to finish because it was something I never thought I’d write. I hope that when you think of the time we spent together, it’s a positive memory and that you can hold them near and dear to you even though Katniss is now in your life. I know that happiness, for me, will at least for now be laying under the stars with you and dreaming of a day that we don’t have to worry about our names being pulled out of those bowls. You’d tell me how beautiful my eyes were and how you never wanted the sun to come up so you could stay in that particular moment forever. You will always be my first love and there will always be a place for you in my heart. I hope your future is as safe and as happy as you dreamed it would be.

Yours,

Y/N

You didn’t even know at what point that you’d began to cry even harder. All you knew was that you could feel a draft on your face and the moisture had dripped onto the top of your shirt. You’d started grieving him the night of the reaping, fearing he would not return. However, the actual grieving process began the night of the interview, knowing that even if he returned, he may never actually return to you. Everything had only begun to come to a head in the grass that night as the sun went down behind Sherbert skies and the void of the night sky took over your vision.

You were so lost in thought that you didn’t hear footsteps coming up from your left side. It was only when you heard a familiar voice say your name that you sat up and turned around, a delayed gasp escaping your lips.

“Peeta?!” You looked at him and took him in in the virtually non-existent light. You couldn’t make out much about his appearance aside from his white shirt and the familiar piece of white paper in his hand.

“I…I…” he looked unsettled, scared even, “I can explain everything, but not here.”

“What?”

“Meet me back in Victor’s Village in an hour. Don’t let anyone see you.”

Something in his tone made your anxiety spike. Your heart was pounding and your stomach was turning. Whatever was happening was not good.

You hesitated before agreeing to meet him, watching as he turned and headed back in the opposite direction. You walked back around the front and entered your house.

“So, what pathetic excuse did he give you?” your mother asked.

You shrugged, “He wasn’t home. Haymitch said he’d be back in a little while, so I’m going to go back…”

“This is entirely too much effort for the boy that just decided to throw away two years with you on television.”

“He…”

You fell quiet. You couldn’t even think of any explanation for Peeta’s behavior, but you hoped to have one soon. You walked back to Victor’s Village around forty-five minutes later, your heart pounding in your chest. What had him acting so timid and scared? This wasn’t like him at all.

You stepped up on his front porch and knocked on the door only for him to answer it almost immediately and let you inside.

“Peeta, what the hell is going on?” You couldn’t stop the thought from coming out. You were truly at wit's end and you just wanted answers. Your eyes fell on the boy. His face crumbled slightly.

“I…We…” he looked away, staring at the floor and then back up at you, “We can’t be together anymore. I’m so sorry.”

You sighed, your throat feeling tight again, “I…I figured, but…like…were you always interested in Katniss or?”

He shook his head, “I was never interested in Katniss. I’m not interested in her now. Y/N, I’m in love with you. I want you so fucking bad, but, I can’t…they’ll…they’ll hurt you. If they found out it’s all a lie, we’d all die.”

You stepped closer to the blonde as his face flushed and tears began to spill from the corners of his eyes, “Peeta, baby, what are you talking about?”

You reached up to wipe his tears and he leaned into your touch ever-so-slightly, “I lied about Katniss because I wanted to gain us sponsors and I just… wanted to try and get out of there…and we did, but Katniss told me that the Capitol is suspicious of us and that if we’re not selling this…we’re going to die and if I stay with you and get caught…they’ll just kill you to get you out of the way. It’s not safe for you to be around me anymore. I love you and I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you.”

You took a hard swallow as you tried to process what he was saying. He was now trapped in a fake relationship with Katniss or else the Capitol is going to kill the both of them and possibly anyone they love. You tried to find words, but there were none. What is there to say to that?

“I’m so sorry. I fucked up and I’m so fucking sorry.” He reached up and brushed a piece of hair out of your eyes.

“You…didn’t. You did what you had to to survive. You kept your promise to me…” You said softly, your voice still shaking through each word, “It was just..never supposed to end like this.”

“I know.” He said solemnly, “I wanted to come home, move into this house, and let you come over whenever you wanted until you eventually moved in. I wanted to protect you for the next two years…giving your family bread and money and whatever to keep you from having to put your name in that bowl any more than it has to be. I wanted to marry you…and maybe one day, when it’s safer, we can…but…until then, I can’t risk it. If we keep this up and the Capitol catches wind of it, you’ll be reaped next year, no questions about it.”

“It’s a quarter quell…”

“It doesn’t matter! In my eyes, that makes it even more dangerous because, for all we know, they could eliminate the one male, one female rule and put you and Prim, Katniss’ sister in there.” He was momentarily silent, “I cannot mentor you and then watch you die.”

“We could run…”

“We won’t make it but a little bit past the gate. There’s Peacekeepers everywhere.”

“Then we die together.”

His face grew stern, “I am not watching you die.”

Your bottom lip quivered, “If it’s ever safe again, will you come back to me?”

“There’s no coming back. I will always be yours.” He reached down and took your hands in his, placing a kiss on your knuckles, “But if that time ever comes…then, yeah…I promise…and that’s one I know I can keep.”

“I’m going to miss you forever.” she said, “I never thought that this was how the games would take you from me.”

“I know…but…just don’t forget about me, okay? Even if you move on..”

“I could never forget about you…even if I wanted to…I’d always think about you.”

With that, he leaned in and pressed one last kiss to your lips, pouring the feelings he’d expressed to you countless times over the last two years into it, his hands cupping your face gently as your hands went to his waist. It was the kiss that you should’ve shared after the reaping and the first kiss you’d shared since he’d been home…except this time, the kiss was your last.

It's hard not to find it all a little bittersweet

And lookin' back on all of that, it's nice to believe…

#the hunger games #the hunger games fanfiction #the hunger games x reader #peeta mellark #peeta mellark x you #peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark x yn #catching fire #mockingjay #josh hutcherson #fanfiction #fanfic

257 notes · View notes

dragons-and-handcuffs · 3 months

Text

Imagine Aemond and niece!reader. It has always been evident that Aemond likes his niece. Some people can see that he even loves her, Rhaenyra and Daemon being two of them. You however are unaware of his actual feelings.

Imagine your mother sending you to King's Landing on a mission. To get close to Aemond, even get married if necessary, to spy on him and gather as much information as you can. You couldn't say no. It's your mother, your future Queen's orders.

You have always carried guilt for everything that happened with Aemond, but now the guilt is growing heavier and heavier as you started obeying your mother's orders. Aemond is no fool. He knows there is a hidden agenda behind Rhaenyra sending you to King's Landing and letting you stay there, but he would be a bigger fool if he doesn't take advantage of it and spend more time with you.

Imagine your guilt getting worse as you spend more time with Aemond. Sending secret letters to Rhaenyra and Daemon. Imagine you taking a stroll in the garden and Aemond joins you. He pluck and tuck your favorite flowers in your hair. Imagine Aemond seeing the conflict in your eyes. He just knows you too well.

Imagine one day you come to your room and find Aemond there, hovering over your desk. You immediately got worried that he might have read a letter or something (he did) but he showed no signs of it. Instead he asked you to join him for a dragon ride since you have been stuck in the castle for a few days.

You started to develop feelings or figured out your feelings for him. You love him and it scared you. How can you choose him over your future queen?

Imagine moments like you two alone at the library late at night. Or Aemond angrily watching you dance with someone else. Or you calming angry Aemond after he got mad at something.

Imagine Aemond asking you to marry him. When Rhaenyra heard of the proposal she agreed to it. Marriage to him means you will be able to get more valuable informations.

But you rejected his proposal. You love him but you won't be able to marry him. You can't give him this big of a betrayal. Aemond knew what you were doing. He knew you were spying but he didn't expect you to reject his proposal, especially since Rhaenyra agreed to it. His first thought was that you love someone else.

When Aemond angrily asked you why you rejected him you only replied that you love someone and you can't betray him by accepting the proposal. Imagine angry and heartbroken Aemond. He loves you so much that even after knowing everything he wants to marry you, but you love someone else.

Then imagine that family dinner where everything blew up. Imagine Aemond overheard Rhaenyra scolding you for rejecting the proposal. Imagine going to your room and finding Aemond there with all your secret letters. It was clear that he knew what you were doing but you had no idea that he knew for months. That bit of information was a shock to you. Aemond demanding you tell him who you actually love. You just put on a mean facade and said you would never marry Aemond and hurt the person you love

Imagine you leaving King's Landing with Rhaenyra and your family. Aemond extremely angry and sad, not because you spied on him.

Imagine Aemond getting the news after a few weeks that you are now arranged to marry Cregan Stark. No doubt it's to secure an alliance but he can't help but wonder it's the Lord of the Winterfell who has won your heart.

Imagine Alicent putting some sense in his head and telling him why you may have rejected him. Aemond realized that it's hin you love but it's already too late. You have already married Cregan Stark and the war has started.

Maybe you two will reunite again. Or maybe you will learn to love your husband...maybe more than you love Aemond. Maybe the next time you see Aemond it will be at the battlefield.

184 notes · View notes

rabarbarzcukrem · 10 months

Text

The eternal opposing relationship between the two sides of a mirror

or: In defense of Shiori

I feel like Shiori is one of the most controversial characters in Utena. Some love her, others despise her. And I don't have a problem with people having strong opinions on her character. What bothers me is the tendency to exaggerate her most negative traits, focus on her most harmful actions, completely ignore any redeeming qualities she might have and then paint her as a one dimensional villainous caricature, a mean straight girl who plays with the lesbian's feelings for the sake of it, without anything deeper going on.

I'm aware of the fact that some people refer to her like that in endearment or in a satirical fashion, and I'm not saying that you can't consider her your favorite problematic evil girl representation. I'm only trying to make people realize that it's her complexity that actually makes her such a compelling character.

I've seen people call Shiori all sorts of names, some of which were baffling enough to make me wonder if they even remembered what happens in the show, and weren't just judging a version of the character that they made up in their head.

So, let's look at the things Shiori actually does, throughout the course of the story.

Disclaimer: I'm only going to take the series into the account here, because I think we can all agree that everyone's characterization and personality differs at least slightly in the movie. Background characters also get a lot less screen time to explain their motivations in order to fully focus on Anthy's journey and struggles, which is understandable.

1. She "steals" the boy from Juri.

This is her biggest crime, which seems to define her from the very beginning. Even though Juri didn't actually have any romantic feelings for him, this action is detrimental to their relationship - it breaks the trio apart, isolates Juri from the pair, is an act of betrayal against her and proves it was done with full awareness that it would hurt Juri emotionally.

Shiori is a deeply insecure person, who constantly feels inadequate and beneath other people. The only reason why Juri seemed to actually like her that Shiori could think of was pity, and even when she found out she was the object of her romantic affection all along, she still struggled to comprehend it. Her self loathing and constant perceived inferiority make her desperate to gain any sort of control over her life and relationships, but they're also the exact reason she feels that the only way she could ever do that is by hurting others. She's always one step below and incapable of crossing that distance, therefore the only way to become equal to people is to bring them down to her level, by humiliation.

When she "steals" the boy from Juri, she achieves that. For a moment, she feels good about herself and leaves Ohtori thinking that she has found the answer, the solution. But she's wrong. From that moment on, it becomes more and more apparent to her that what she did was never out of love for the boy, even though she doesn't let herself acknowledge it fully. Because the truth is, Shiori actually regrets hurting Juri, which she admits herself during her elevator confession.

When the guilt starts getting to her, her confidence high wears off, and she ends up feeling ever worse.

That's why she breaks up with him and comes back. She's not ready to leave yet, not ready to progress. There's still something binding her to Ohtori - Juri, and Shiori's unresolved feelings for her.

2. She tries to set things right with Juri and to fix their relationship.

Even though at this point Shiori still thinks that Juri only ever associated herself with her out of pity, she still makes several attempts to get closer to Juri, who understandably (albeit coldly) turns her down ever time. This is a very clear sign of conflicting feelings Shiori has for Juri - jealousy and admiration, resentment and longing, hate and love. After all, Shiori admits that the two practically grew up together. Their friendship may have always felt fake to Shiori, but she clearly cherished it deeply.

3. The Black Rose Arc.

First of all, we should establish what is the purpose of this arc and how it functions. It explores the motivations of background characters and shows their worst side to the audience. The characters that end up in the elevator are the most unstable, vulnerable ones, with the least power in the system, in unequal and/or exploitive relationships with the duelists and their agency under threat. Mikage offers them a way to gain that power by making them follow their most toxic, negative emotions. And despite all other characters doing exactly that, from what I've seen Shiori is the one that gets the most hate for it. I don't think she should be judged any harsher for what she did under the influence of the black rose than, let's say, Wakaba or Kozue. Especially because the reason all of them ended up in that elevator is because they recognized that these urges were harmful and were seeking help and counseling.

What this arc does do is reveal how Shiori's inferiority complex drives her to act against her own desires. Even though she longs for things to be different, even though she is not happy at all with how her relationship with Juri looks like, she is unable to fix it, because that would require her to consider her own affection for Juri. And she can't do that, because it would mean admitting that she's not stronger than Juri, that she hasn't beaten her, that she's doesn't have control and an advantage over her. Although she tries to keep up this smug, self-assured facade, the reality shines through.

They key to understanding Shiori is noticing that she specifically doesn't want to acknowledge that Juri's feelings are reciprocated, and the obsession is mutual. If you paint their relationship as one sided, you're actually falling for her act.

4. She enters a relationship with Ruka.

Ruka is a handsome (arguable), respected boy who appears out of nowhere and starts showing interest in Shiori. It's obvious that for an insecure girl, who in addition struggles with confusing repressed feelings, this would be something unthinkably wonderful. The affection and praise she gets from him is exactly what her low self-esteem craves. You might be wondering why she didn't perceive Juri's feelings for her in the same way. And a part of the answer might be that, post nameless-boy-incident, Juri was nothing but cold to her. She might have been pining after Shiori from afar, but in the end she's distant and untouchable, and they're divided by their messy past. Meanwhile Ruka is a clean slate, seems openly affectionate, engaged in their relationship and he pays attention to her. But I think the main thing that makes Ruka so different from Juri is the fact that...he's a boy. Because, as Revolutionary Girl Utena establishes, gender plays a crucial role in interpersonal dynamics. Attention from a boy is fundamentally coded as romantic, desirable, necessary and most importantly: increases the girl's worth in society's eyes. It makes one a princess. Meanwhile Juri's advances could only be seen as an invitation to friendship, at best. But Juri's status and beauty make her special, while Shiori is not. Therefore, it can only be pity and mockery.

Of course, Ruka only uses Shiori to influence Juri and dumps her as soon as he achieves his goals. It's true that Shiori could have listened to Juri's warnings, but then again... why should she? From her perspective, Juri's her ex-friend that doesn't want anything to do with her, who only suddenly comes to Shiori when she's finally happy and fulfilled, and encourages her to end it. She doesn't know the wider context of the situation, nor does she remember the Black Rose arc. Juri's warnings don't sound sincere to her.

And so, Ruka gets rid of her in the coldest, most indifferent way, not explaining anything or showing even the slightest sign of compassion. Before that though, he makes an interesting remark, about Shiori putting on an act and polishing somebody else's sword.

Honestly, I don't really know how to interpret it in any other way than Shiori actually having feelings for someone else, despite trying her hardest to conceal it. Are my shipping lenses not allowing me to see any different possibilities? Am I going crazy? I don't know.

Nevertheless, Shiori begs him to stay, devastated. Her life got turned around so suddenly, she found appreciation, status, comfort and stability, and now all that's been taken away from her as abruptly as it was given. It's a public humiliation.

I once heard someone say that this would be the perfect moment for Juri to step in and defend her. And to be honest, although it may be true, I'm not completely sure. It may have been the one display of open care that Shiori needed from her, but it might as well have been interpreted by Shiori as Juri affirming her superiority over her and feeling sorry for her again. We will never know. In my opinion, so much of their relationship is going on in their own heads that the only thing that could ever cause positive progress is communication (which neither of them seem to be a fan of).

Instead, Juri only tries to console her after the fact, when Shiori's at her absolute lowest. In the context of all the assumptions Shiori holds and Juri's previous indifference, it quite understandably comes off as a sneering attempt to gloat.

That's about it. You may have noticed that I've summarized all Shiori's appearances into 4 points, and only one of them includes an instance of Shiori hurting Juri voluntarily, out of her own free will, not influenced by anyone. I'm not saying that she was forced to taunt Juri during the Black Rose Arc, I'm not trying to diminish the suffering she's caused or trying to paint her as a perfectly good person. I am trying to make it clear that she is not some cunning plotter, dedicating every minute of her life to finding ways to make Juri suffer that some people seem to take her for. I am trying to humanize people's perception of her a little bit. Especially considering the fact that last scenes of her include those when she waits for Juri and follows her so that they can go home together, and then joins the fencing club. If this doesn't show that she's capable of change, I don't know what does.

She's not an innocent princess, that's true, but she's not just an egoistical, manipulative liar either. She's a bit of both. After all, if Revolutionary Girl Utena is supposed to teach you anything, then I think it's that we're all just people, and the complexities of human experience make it impossible to fit anyone into a box, assigning them definite labels like "princess" or "witch".

And if you look at a teenage girl who, like all people in Ohtori, struggle under the system of patriarchy and heterosexuality, and all you see is a wicked, sinister witch, then you may have just fallen into the trap that the narrative had set for you.

#Shiori: I may be pathetic but you're the one who fell for me lol #no fr you don't need to make up reasons to hate shiori there's plenty enough right there in the text #rgu #revolutionary girl utena #shiori takatsuki #juriori #I guess #she's so fucked up I love her #like girl feeling delighted after finding out your bestie has a crush on you is not very straight no matter how you justify it #moje

439 notes · View notes

spiriteddreams · 6 months

Text

to the sky, the sun, (and you)

"there is something about you that i will always recognize" — boygenius (we're in love) Pairing: past Neuvillette x Reader, implied current Wriothesley x Reader Warnings: angst, hurt/no comfort Word Count: ~0.9k

oh to love someone and fall hard, only to watch it all crumble through your fingers and sink into the ocean along with your heart. oh to love someone with all your heart and feel it be ripped away, only for it to be pieced back in a place you’d least expect to find the sun.

you find yourself standing as the accused, unfortunately rightfully so, in a plot in which you sought to bring justice to someone wrongfully accused. but where they were wrong, you were right. and the sight of you starting at neuvillette defiantly, head raised, mouth downturned, and eyes cold, forces him to reconsider what does justice really mean. he saw the signs of “betrayal” and yet he turned a blind eye, trying to convince himself that it was just his own paranoia.

his voice is unwavering as he delivers the final verdict that seals your fate. the words are bitter and poison on his tongue, sending a sharp ache to spear through his chest. but nothing will haunt him more than the look you give him on your knees, hands bound behind your back as you stare up at him on the dais. you don’t look at him as you are led away.

and in the fortress of meropide you meet wriothesley whose both surprised and hesitant to find you down there. you, who was an acquantance to him before being cast aside and stripped of all titles and status. but you hardly bat an eye when wriothesley makes an attempt to rile you up. yet he begins to find it fun to try to poke at you. and because there is still some lingering form of courteousness between the two of you, a friendship begins to bloom and he begins to understand why you did what you did. for justice is as cruel as she is blind, and her blade always strikes without remorse. wriothesley learned of it years ago and now he sees the way you try to bandage your own wounds. he takes note of the grimace that crosses your face at the mention of the chief justice, and the way a ghost of a smile seems to flicker across your lips when he catches you staring out into the ocean, as if you could see up to the sky.

time passes as the waves rise and fall, and the lines of friendship begin to blur. it is then that neuvillette decides to come down. he wonders if this feeling in his chest, the one of sinking regret and guilt as he is lowered deeper and deeper into the ocean, is what you felt when you were torn away from the sunlight and rolling green hills that you adored at his side. neuvillette runs through a practiced apology in his head, each step feeling like a balanced step on a tightrope leading towards where you are. and to his horror, he watches from a distance as you sit at the cafeteria, still as bright as ever, and yet you smile as the duke the same way you used to smile at him. and neuvillette wonders how long it’s been since he’s seen you laugh that hard.

he doesn’t make his presence known immediately, but he catches the way your eyes linger on his figure when he goes to meet with the duke. he pauses at the door, hand raised and ready to knock, and casts a glance at where you stand. he wishes you were closer so that he could see what emotions are on your face, but he can barely make out the traces of your features. your expression is blank, and he’s not sure if that’s worse than the look of betrayal on his face that you left to haunt him with.

when he asks to meet with you, wriothesley is hesitant and neuvillette’s chest aches at the way the duke thinks of your own wellbeing before the chief justice’s request. they sit across from each other, conversation locked away to the prying eyes and ears of all others. wriothesely traces the rim of his cup with his finger and it is then that neuveillette notices that the duke has acquired a new piece of jewelry, wrapped around his middle finger. he knows where he’s seen it before, but chooses not to ask. instead he waits as wriothesely chooses his words carefully, and tells neuvillette that if this conversation that he wishes to have with you has nothing to do with “bringing justice” or your case, then it’s not in your best interest to see him again. but neuvillette insists, a hint of desperation just barely slipping into his words. and because he’s the chief justice, his word is law.

but when wriothesley goes to retrieve you, he can’t help but notice the whispers shared between the two of you. you look at him the way you used to look at the sun and above ground, clouds begin to darken the sky. you haven’t noticed him thus yet, but neuvillette notices the moment that his name comes from wriothesley’s lips, your smile falters. it’s impossible to miss the concerned look wriothesely shoots between you and neuvillette as you both approach. that smile that you offered wriothesely immediately drops when you look to face neuvillette, and justice crumbles beneath his feet.

oh to love someone and fall hard and feel it become swept away by unforgiving waters, to watch as those fragmented pieces of trust and adoration are offered to the hands of another, one who knows how to protect your own heart better than he ever could.

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! <3

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette #genshin impact neuvillette #spiriteddreams writing #spiriteddreams

227 notes · View notes

evermoredeluxe · 23 days

Text

a few thoughts about the bonus tracks:

the manuscript is maybe gonna be her going “this is what our relationship was on paper. it was perfect. but in reality….. that wasn’t what was happening. i protected you and for WHAT” i feel like we’ve inferred that taylor was initially portraying him to be the perfect man, and as someone above her because she actually felt that way, and when later she didn’t, she was maybe holding onto him being good and the side of him and the past good times. ofc the pandemic and the extreme media scrutiny informed folkmore; regardless, i just can’t help but notice that we literally got no autobiographical songs about how she was currently feeling since 2020. the only way was her infusing herself in characters and her past felt, and i think all of this was because she didn’t want anyone to know that he was a part of her issues and that he was hurting her aka protecting him.

the bolter, i feel, is gonna go one of two ways. she is the bolter and her being like “i’ve discarded my “you gotta leave before you get left” mentality… i grew! and you didn’t! and it feels like betrayal” or that he bolted from their relationship and was absent. or maybe it’s just a mix of both of these.

the albatross is obviously a reference to the poem the rime of the ancient mariner, and in the poem, the man is made to hang the dead albatross on his neck as a sign of guilt and as reminder for what he did to the bird (even though the bird helped him during hard times at sea), and i just feel the song is going to be very “you were a renegade, i tried to help you out, but you pushed me away. and now you’re killing me, and you’re so ambivalent and you refuse to leave me so you wear me around your neck as a punishment for hurting me so bad, even though it would’ve been kinder to let me go” and will be very “and darling you’ve got your demons and they all look like me” coded

the black dog feels like it’s going to be “my depression follows me everywhere like a dog, and you made it better so i followed you everywhere like a dog begging for your love, but that’s not the truth anymore and now you just make me feel worse instead, and i know that it is better to leave than to stay and chase you and wait for you”

#the manuscript #the bolter #the albatross #the black dogs #the tortured poets department #ttpd #ttpd predictions #arshia takes #arshia talks

71 notes · View notes

cacoetheswriting · 1 year

Text

celebrity skin.

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 6.5k summary: as corroded coffin frontman, eddie munson regards himself as perhaps the most important person in hollywood. that's until he meets you — america’s favourite starlet.

content warnings: 18+, minors dni: adult language & mature themes, porn with a rather angsty plot, general heavy petting / kissing, teasing, fingering, quite rough yet protected p in v sex, borderline overstimulation, eddie is a little dom, light praise kink, dirty talk, use of pet names & very slight degradation, mentions of alcohol & drug consumption, mentions of blood (reader unintentionally hurts herself), emotional hurt / topics of guilt — if i missed anything, pls let me know! also, not proofread.

psa: images used in the header don’t depict readers physical attributes! these are also described vaguely in the story, only that she’s a little shorter than eddie.

“Absolutely not.”

Impossible to read between the lines with those two simple words, but if anyone dared to try regardless, the absolute disapproval and disdain in Eddie’s tone of voice stopped them from doing so. At least that’s what the Corroded Coffin frontman hoped.

It took a lot to catch Eddie Munson off guard. Given everything he’s endured in his life, nothing surprised him anymore ‘cause he made sure to be prepared for every single scenario. A little neurotic? Yes. Needed for his own piece of mind? Abso-fucking-lutely.

Obviously there had been exceptions over the years — especially being in the limelight with easy access to substances that weren’t too good for his health and nothing but extensive amounts of cash to burn. The other guys had invested their paychecks, Gareth even started a family. Eddie on the other hand, well, he bought a mansion in Beverly Hills and threw parties every night of the week.

The heavy drinking clouded his judgement and damaged his liver, but Eddie still kept tabs on his inner circle and made sure to be informed of any moves the label was trying to make before official announcements.

Which is why when he stumbled into the recording studio an hour later than scheduled, extremely hungover and with an unlit cigarette between his teeth, he really thought he misheard the news announced by their long-time manager, Marianne.

“A feature. The label wants it, she wants it. Honestly, Eddie, no point in fighting it. It’s a done deal.”

Marianne’s words were ringing in his ears. To make matters worse, the whole band apparently knew about this. For a long time, at that. They just collectively chose not to tell him out of fear of his “overreaction”, as Gareth put it.

“Well, I don’t want it.” Eddie grumbles. A reaction worthy of a little kid more so than a famous rockstar. “I refuse.”

Jeff clears his throat, glancing between the group before settling his eyes on Eddie.

“Man, it’s just one song. Not like she’s been asked to permanently join the band,” he tries to be the voice of reason.

Eddie just scoffs. He’s on the couch, eyes closed and hand pressed to his forehead with a third cigarette in between his fingers. He refused to believe this was happening.

“A feature and a music video,” Marianne chimes.

Jeff sighs. “You’re really not helping your case here.”

But their manager just shrugs. “There’s no case to help. Like I said, it’s a done deal. Y’all are doing this feature with America’s favourite starlet and y’all are gonna have smiles on your fucking faces in the process.” Marianne states and what she says, usually goes. “Are you hearing me, Eddie?”

Usually.

“I ain’t doing shit.”

“Eddie—” Gareth feels like it’s his turn to help the situation, but he just gets rudely interrupted.

“Shut up, Gareth! Everyone, just shut the fuck up!” Eddie’s outburst accompanies him jumping up onto his feet. He’s angry, clearly. Glaring at the group as if he’s endured the worst possible betrayal. “Last I fucking checked, this was my fucking band! I have a say in what’s a done deal and this is not one of those things!”

The boys don’t speak. They look to Marianne who seemed to always know how to calm Eddie down. She had this aura about her. Almost motherly, even though she couldn’t have been more than five years older than the Corroded Coffin frontman — an estimate as she’s never told them her actual age.

Marianne crosses the studio until she’s standing toe to toe with the curly-haired singer. He’s towering over her, but she’s got the upper hand — as always.

First, she takes the cigarette he was holding and takes a drag, crossing her arms while blowing the smoke away from his face. The silence extends from seconds to minutes, almost as if she’s daring Eddie to continue.

He doesn’t. So she clears her throat.

“Now that we’re done with the temper tantrum,” Marianne says calmly, “At risk of sounding like a complete and utter bitch, Eddie, my darlin’, you have lost your right to call this band yours after the last stunt you pulled cost the label thousands of dollars in damages. Not to mention the absolute nightmare it’s been to keep it out of the stupid tabloids.”

“I apologised—”

“Thousands of dollars, Eddie. Your apology ain’t worth shit.”

Marianne walks over to an ashtray and puts out the reminisce of the cigarette. She briefly glances between the rest of the band before settling her gaze on Eddie once again.

“The people actually in charge think this collaboration has the potential of being an absolute hit. A song played for generations to come and for once, I actually agree with them.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything. He knows deep down he has lost the argument, so he had nothing left to add.

“Guys, you gotta know y’all are my priority and I would never do anything to jeopardise your career. Ever.” Marianne reassures. The boys all say they know. All of them apart from Eddie.

He’s back on the couch. Sitting with his legs apart, elbows resting on his knees, head in his hands. Sulking and wishing he hadn’t forgotten his pouch of pre-rolled joints ‘cause he could really use one right about now.

When no one else speaks, Marianne heads for the door.

“She’ll be here tomorrow. Please be on time.”

That last part was aimed at Eddie, who in that moment lifts his head to address his manager one more time before she leaves.

“I have a question,” his tone of voice is cold, understandably so. When Marianne doesn’t protest, he continues. “How come America’s pride and joy wants to sing a song with a band often accused of devil worship?”

A smile Eddie can’t really decipher circles his manager’s lips.

“Guess you’ll just have to ask her in person.”

When a person is repeatedly told they are meant for incredible things, they may grow up with a skewed vision of life.

Thankfully, the only person that’s ever believed in you that much was your Nana and it was pretty hard to take her seriously considering her history — a lady who after an accidental pregnancy in her early-twenties, joined and later escaped a cult, then conned her way into marrying a Wall Street suit-man, before getting hooked on pills he was prescribed for some back injury he had.

The man died before he could divorce her, leaving Nana his small fortune and a property in Greenwich Village. You didn’t even know his real name since every time she’s told the story she used a different one, and also changed other minor details.

So you never thought twice about her constant, “You’re going to be a star one day, baby girl.”. In retrospect, you should have. Perhaps it would have prepared you for the world of fame and fortune you were so briskly thrown into.

“Mom, please don’t fill her head with jargon. She’s just going to end up disappointed.”

That’s not to say your parents weren’t also supportive of your dreams. They were, although they believed them to be much smaller at scale, a nurse perhaps, an astronaut at best. Definitely not a popstar sensation and America’s sweetheart.

Your parents met at a charity function your Nana was a co-chair at and instantly clicked. Love at first sight, is how it was described in the paper for their engagement announcement not even a month later. Married shortly after and their first baby was born exactly a year later. Billy Wilder couldn’t write that shit even if he tried.

You always wanted to experience that kind of love.

The longing you endured every time you saw your parents interact was the reason you started writing poetry. Words a little too deep for a ten-year old girl to have actually experienced, but they felt right. By the time you were old enough to actually pursue a romantic relationship, you filled countless notebooks with poems that had actually turned into lyrics after your Nana encouraged to sponsor your piano lessons at age twelve and later guitar.

Ironic, really. Not meant to believe in your own potential success, but destined to think your happiness depended on somebody else.

Shortly after your twenty-first birthday, your Nana asked you to perform at one of her functions. A simple wish you had gratified many times before.

“But you only sing the covers, okay? The material in your notepads is reserved for when you’re famous.” Nana would request, mainly ‘cause she liked when you sang Dusty Springfield.

This particular event started out like every other. What you didn’t know however, in the crowd, amongst the usual New York elite, were a few agents and talent scouts your Nana specifically invited to see you perform.

By the end of the night, you had a signed record deal.

A week later, you were in the studio.

Lucky doesn’t begin to describe how you felt at that time. Although knowing your Nana, luck had nothing to do with it.

After the release of your debut single, you rocketed into overnight stardom. Quickly charting in various top lists, only proving your Nana had always been right. As a result, the late 80s were in fact a blur. The years were spent shooting music videos and various magazine covers, doing TV and radio interviews, touring, all on top of releasing more music. Aside from the casual hookup every now and again, carefully concealed with an NDA to preserve your image, finding love took a backburner.

By the 1990s, you’d gone from being America’s sweetheart to a worldwide phenomenon.

It was at that point in time you remembered why you started writing poems in the first place. Completely by accident, as these things usually go.

While your life remained in New York, given your profession, you often travelled to Los Angeles. Late August of 1992, to be a bit more precise, there was this pool party you really had no business attending.

Holly — your makeup artist, close friend, and permanent plus one — used her perfectly manicured finger to stir the melting ice-cubes at the bottom of her glass. She said something about getting a refill, but you barely registered. Simply nodded at her words before pressing the glass you were holding to your lips. Your focus was somewhere else. Rather on someone else.

As Holly stood, you reach for her forearm and motion your head in the direction you wanted her to look in.

“Who’s that?” A simple question that ended up changing the remainder of your life.

Holly smirked. She turned back to you and you forced yourself to look away from the person in question, meeting your friends eyes instead.

“Seriously?”

You furrowed your brows at her reaction, as if to say you really had no idea, and her gaze widened slightly when she realised you weren’t kidding.

“That’s Eddie Munson. Corroded Coffin, remember I played you some of their songs? Anyway, this is his house, his party.”

With that, she took the half-empty drink from my grasp and walked away.

Eddie Munson, the name suited him, at least at face value. You had heard of Corroded Coffin before, but their music wasn’t really your style, hence why you never really bothered to learn anything more about them. Yet now, here you were, wishing you had cared a little more in the past ‘cause perhaps you’d have the courage to walk up to their frontman.

Eddie wore a black bandana, tied loosely only to shield him from the sun as his brown locks draped over his bare shoulders. A wide collection of ink art covered almost every inch of the skin on his arms and chest, legs too, at least the parts that weren’t covered by ripped denim shorts. There was a cigarette between his lips and it remained in position even while he was laughing. He was pretty. Judging by the crowd of girls around him, you weren’t the only one to notice.

Exhaling softly, you abandoned your spot on one of the lounge chairs and embarked on a mission to find Holly, or at least something else to drink. The back door to the house is open, so without really thinking, you slipped inside, straight into the kitchen.

Pristine. The entire space. Almost as if no one's ever cooked here, which now that you knew the owner, made sense. Not to completely judge a book by its cover, but Eddie didn’t look like the type of guy who enjoyed cooking all that much.

“The house is off limits.”

A deep voice startled you. Jumping in your spot, you hit a corner of the stone centre island as you turned to address the person who walked in. Oh shit.

Eddie Munson’s eyes locked onto your frame, now that you are facing him fully. He licked his lips rather shamelessly as his gaze travelled the length of your bare legs and continued upwards until it reached your own. A shiver ran down your spine in the process ‘cause even though you were practically fully dressed, you felt completely naked.

“Sorry,” you were quick to apologise, “I was just looking for my friend.”

“The house is off limits,” Eddie repeated as he took a few steps closer.

“Again, I’m sorry. I really was just looking for someone,” you said and it was the truth, whether he believed it or now. “What are— What are you doing?”

“You’re bleeding.”

You glanced down at where his ring-clad fingers now met your skin, a tissue paper you didn’t even realise he grabbed, wrapped between them. He wiped slowly. His touch was soft, gentle even, which was surprising to you given his demeanour.

“Wow, yeah. Fuck. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to break into your house and then bleed in your kitchen.”

Eddie chuckled at your words. “You apologise a lot. Is that part of this act they have you doin’ or is it genuine?”

“Act?”

He nodded then straightened his posture. He tossed the dirty tissue to the side before taking your hand and leading you out of the kitchen. The way your fingers aligned together quite perfectly should’ve come with a warning sign, but you didn’t really think about that in the moment, more concerned with the fact he was pulling you away from the party.

“Where are we going?”

“Bathroom. Can’t have you bleeding out in my kitchen, sweetheart.” Eddie joked lightheartedly. “Plus wouldn’t want anyone taking a sneaky picture of us. Could start a bunch of nasty rooms. Good for my career, not so much yours.”

“Because of my act?”

“You get it.”

The master bedroom, you assume, is a lot larger in comparison to yours. A lot darker too, though that’s a given considering your opposite styles. Eddie was careful to lock the door behind the two of you before pointing to the bathroom and following after you.

“Sit.”

You obliged without question, positioning yourself on the sink. Eddie failed to conceal a ‘cause he didn’t think you’d do as you were told without putting up at least a bit of a fight. After all, he was a stranger with a reputation for doing ungodly things when alone with girls, but with your legs dangling off the edge, you didn’t seem tense or scared. In fact, if Eddie didn’t know any better, he’d say you were quite comfortable and he liked it. So with a smile still circling his lips, he began his search for the first aid kit he knew he saw here last.

“Why do you think it’s an act?”

Eddie glanced at you briefly. There is a sense of urgency in your question, almost as if his answer, his opinion, actually mattered to you. Which it did. For whatever reason, his response had the potential to hurt you. If he thought you weren’t genuine, it would hurt you.

“Sweetheart, I don’t think you want my honesty.”

You half-scoffed. “Actually, I don’t remember the last time someone was actually honest with me about anything relating to my career.”

The answer shocked him a little. Then again it made sense. In the eyes of your management team and label, you were a money making machine. Nothing more than a pretty face with a pretty voice they used to make themselves rich.

“Even my own parents,” you continued, fidgeting with the bottom of your cotton shorts. “They were so adamant not to let my grandmother fill my head with hopes and dreams while I was growing up, but the second those hopes and dreams came true, it’s like they forgot they were still my parents and should sometimes be brutally honest.”

Pausing, you bit down on your bottom lip. From across the bathroom, Eddie's gaze immediately trailed down your face and settled on where your teeth sank into flesh. He licked his own, eyes darkening for a split second.

“Sorry, I’m oversharing,” you muttered, breaking him away from any sinful thoughts that wanted to break free. “Telling you my life story even though not even thirty minutes ago, I didn’t know your name.”

Eddie smirked, a cheshire-cat grin spreading across his features. “The only thing you should be apologising for, sweetheart, is the fact you came to my party and didn’t know who I was.”

“I get invited to a lot of parties,” you defended, involuntarily rolling your eyes at his not so subtle cockiness. “Suppose you think all the girls swoon at the chance to be near you, huh? Sorry to disappoint, I guess.”

“Well, shit. Talk about brutal honesty.” Eddie teased and ran a hand through his locks, taking off his bandana in the process. “Now I feel like a fucking creep ‘cause I seem to know quite a bit about you.”

“Whatever you know is clearly wrong since I’m not some character,” you interjected and he glanced at you once again. “I mean my whole thing wasn’t an act at first.”

“And now?”

You sighed. “It’s a little more complicated.”

That made him laugh. “See, that’s why I don’t let my label or management tell me shit. My band, my music, my style. If I wasn’t unapologetically myself, I’d go fucking insane.”

He eventually found the first aid kit and the plasters within. Back in front of you, he gently wiped the cut on your upper leg again, only this time with a wet towel, and carefully put a plaster over it.

“All done.”

“Thank you.”

His hand remained on your skin as he looked up to hold your gaze. In the sharp bathroom light, you realised just how perfectly brown his eyes are and you couldn’t help but wonder if anyone’s ever told him that. You secretly hoped they didn’t. A little lame, but you found yourself wanting to be at least his first something.

Eddie on the other hand, thought about how of all the people here tonight, he wound up alone with you. Pop royalty. American treasure. A girl that’s graced the cover of magazines and been on talk shows he would never feature on. A girl who sold millions of copies of songs he wouldn’t be caught dead listening to. A girl so vastly different from him, it only made him want you more.

Continuing to stare deep into his chocolate-button eyes, you lifted your arm and since Eddie didn’t flinch, you proceeded to loop a loose strand of his hair around your finger then let it go. Eddie’s heart jumped into his throat as you repeated the action — a sensation he’s never really experienced before.

How come you had this hold on him, seemingly out of nowhere? A simple smile and a modest tease had his mind racing. Not to mention the softness of your skin under his grasp you didn’t try to break away from. Perhaps that was it. You didn’t push him away. You also didn’t throw yourself at him. Those were the two extremes he usually experienced. Knowing you had just about learned who he was before the two of you landed in this situation was a refreshing change from the people usually breaking into his house.

“We can go back to the party, since you’re all patched up.” Eddie offered, though his actions betrayed his words as he effortlessly parted your legs with his knee, creating a gap he slid into perfectly.

“What’s the alternative?” You asked in a whisper.

“Whatever you want it to be,” he murmured, face now inches away from yours. A genuine smile graced your features as you wrapped your arms around the rockstars neck.

It may have moved a little too fast, though there were no complaints from either of you at the time. In fact, you both welcomed it. Losing yourself completely in the moment and this magnetic pull you felt towards one another was freeing. A spark ignited with a touch, then a kiss — and fuck was Eddie Munson a good kisser.

His lips were tender, although his actions were rather harsh. Desperate even, as he squeezed your jaw with one hand and pushed his mouth into yours further. You returned the same energy, aching to be even closer. Heads rotating in perfect rhythm, you tugged at his hair and he groaned against your mouth at the slight pressure then lightly bit your bottom lip to force his tongue down your throat.

He tasted of tobacco and whiskey. Normally that kind of shit puts you off, but with Eddie, it was honestly intoxicating. He quickly asserted dominance, tongue intertwining itself with yours as his ring-clad fingers dug into your flesh. You moaned into his mouth. The flame inside you burning brighter with every passing second.

Eddie’s head was spinning. He pulled apart briskly, only to catch his breath before he dipped his head to your neck. Licking then biting, sucking and kissing. Both his hands were back on your waist and they effortlessly pulled you closer towards him, the bulge concealed by his denim shorts now pressing against your bare thigh.

His name escaped you repeatedly in mere whispers and whimpers, and you felt Eddie’s mouth turn up into a smirk against your neck. “Fuck, sweetheart. Don’t stop makin’ them pretty noises for me.”

“Then don’t stop kissing me.”

A request he gladly obliged as his lips found yours once again. This kiss was slower than your first, but equally as passionate. His strong hands moved up, under the loose cover of your shirt until he reached your underboob.

“I was gonna complain about you wearing so much clothes to a fucking pool party, but…” Eddie draws out the last syllable as his thumbs grazes over your hard nipples. “... this way is so much better, sweetheart.”

“Then keep going,” you whisper, body screaming with desire, aching for more. Begging to be touched. Begging to be turned into a fire, tipped off with gasoline.

This was a dangerous game you were playing, getting hooked on a man you had only really met. A rockstar at that. Your lives, although borderline the same, were completely different. Your gut kept telling you there was no future here, but your heart didn’t care. You’ve gotten an accidental taste of Eddie Munson and you only wanted more.

Thankfully, it seemed like Eddie had the same idea.

He removes his hands from your breasts and drops them down to the waistband of your shorts. He kissed you again as his fingers desperately worked at the single button acting as a guard between him and what he wanted most this very moment.

“Can you lift yourself for a moment, sweetheart?”

You do as you’re told, allowing Eddie to slide the shorts past the curve off your ass, before letting them fall down your legs and to the tiled floor. His dark eyes meet yours as he grabs onto your thighs, squeezing at the flesh. And he holds your gaze while his fingers work their way upwards. You don’t realise you’re holding your breath until he’s pulling your panties to the side.

Oh. Oh.

Eddie’s running a finger up and down the length of your slit, proud to feel how soaked you already were. The light teasing continued as he added another finger and you flinched at the first contact to your clit. He was relentless. Taking his time as you tried to arch your pelvis into his fingers, only to be met with a hand around your jaw, “Stop that.”

Releasing your face, he stroked his fingers downward, then up again, finally letting a finger linger on the hood of your clit. He began to draw little circles so that the skin moved over the head, rhythmically exposing and covering it.

“Eddie…” you drawled and he groaned at the sound of his name in your desperate tone of voice. So he didn’t waste any more time, slipped two ring-clad fingers easily between your folds and you shuddered at the cold of the metal. He repeated the action over and over, faster and applying more pressure with each time.

His mouth found yours once again, only this time he didn’t kiss you. Not really. Instead, his teeth latched onto your bottom lip and as you whined desperately while his curled fingers repeatedly hit that sweet spot inside you, he bit down harder.

He fucked his fingers in and out of you. It was messy, rough, ecstatic. Then your back arched as he used his other hand to rub against your clit.

“Oh shit, fuck. Eddie, please don’t stop…”

You let your head fall backwards, eyes closing. Within seconds, a shuddering orgasm overcame you, but with steady control, Eddie kept going for what seemed like a minute. Only once you began to relax, he eased his fingers out of you and brought them to his mouth, licking them clean.

“How you doin’, sweetheart?”

A content hum was all you could offer. Satisfied, Eddie smiled to himself and placed a sloppy kiss to the slant of your jawline.

“Are you okay to keep going?”

You looked back at him then and bopped your head once, slowly. “Yeah… Yes.”

His devilish grin widened. “Good girl. Hold tight.”

Hands shifting to the curve of your ass as you wrapped your legs tight around him, Eddie lifted you up with little to no effort and carried you towards the bed. He didn’t take much care to drop you gently so you bounced against the mattress while he hastily removed his pants and crawled over you, grinding down into you — unsurprising, he’d gone commando.

He began to rotate his hips so that his cock was massaging back and forth across your semi-clothed cunt. He alternated his movements; sometimes slowed them down while other times increasing speed. His lips were glued to your neck in the moment, only adding to the pure exhilaration you were experiencing, while he worked to unbutton your shirt, spreading it to the side.

Forehead pressed yours, he glanced down briefly to admire your now naked chest. Your nipples were rapidly erect as Eddie proceeded to move his hands around them, massaging the tissue of your breasts. With splayed fingers, he squeezed and released, then lightly pulled the flesh, while his teeth attached themselves to your earlobe.

The teasing was relentless. “Eddie… Oh Eddie, please,” you whined quietly and another moan escaped your lips, louder this time.

The brunette on top of you groaned a mere second later. Unable to contain himself any longer, he tugged at your panties. Just as eager, you lifted your ass so he could slide the remaining garment off and toss it. Now you were naked in front of him, only the cotton shirt covering your arms.

“Shit, sweetheart. You’re so fucking beautiful.” Eddie whispered and lightly ran his fingers up and down your leg, while the other hand reached to cup your cheek. He leaned down to kiss you again. “My pretty girl.”

Heat rushed between your legs at the moniker. They parted a little more, desperate to increase the contact between the two of you.

“Let me grab a condom,” Eddie muttered against your bare skin and you nodded, releasing your hold on him momentarily ‘cause you didn’t want any accidental pregnancies with a potential to ruin your career, and even his.

Staring up at the ceiling, you heard him rummage through his bedside table. He’s back in your field of vision within seconds. There’s a look on his face that reads “are you sure you wanna do this”, and you tangle your fingers in his locks in response, pulling him closer.

Eddie lets his cock fall between your parted legs. He’s back to teasing you as he’s spreading your folds with the head of his dick, until it flicks over your clit. And you tug at his curls in the process, but he doesn’t care. A lustful look in his eyes. One that says, I can do this all night. Which he proves as the tip of his cock dragged across the entrance to your glistening cunt. Your legs would close slightly as if to trap it in that position. Eddie however, remained in full control.

“Please, please…” you begged against his hot mouth, “Please just fuck me. Fuck me, Eddie.”

He smirked. “Didn’t think America’s starlet was such a desperate fucking slut.”

With that, Eddie slammed the full length of his cock into you. No longer teasing. He was driving into your sodden cunt with a force that shook your entire body. His now glistening cock plunging in and out of you with ease. You were meeting his thrusts as best as you could while trapped under his massive frame.

To say you were experiencing a state of ecstasy you had never known before while fucking a man you’d only met an hour or so ago, would be a vast understatement. You felt dizzy and breathless as each stroke of his thick cock against your walls ignited the fire already burning bright. The sounds you were making were absolutely pornographic and in that moment, you were grateful Eddie locked the door ‘cause if anyone from the party were to come looking for him, or you, well let’s just say Page Six would have something interesting to write about, for once. This was a site to be seen.

Eddie leaned forward on his elbows, not like it was possible to be any closer but he sure as hell tried. One of his hands enveloped itself around your neck, while the other found your perfect tits. He alternated, kneading them and teasing your nipples, earning another sweet moan to escape through your parted lips. Then he lightly squeezed your neck and your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

“Such a pretty girl,” Eddie muffled into your ear. “Fuck, baby. I don’t know what you’ve done to me. Just wanna fuck you forever.” He meant it. Your pussy felt amazing wrapped around his cock. Better than he imagined. Better in fact than anyone he’d ever been with.

The room was filled with sick sounds, from the squeaking of the bed, Eddie’s grunts and gruffs, to the pounding your aching cunt was receiving. You had completely given yourself over to the rawness of the situation, although it’s not like you had any inhibitions in the first place.

As Eddie continued to whisper dirty things into your ear, the length of his shaft sliding in and out of you with unnatural force, you buried your head in the crook of his neck, muffling only slightly your increasing guttural groans with each of his thrusts. And as your fingers abandoned his locks, trailing instead down his back, fingernails digging into his tattooed skin, you knew another climax was fast approaching.

“Eddie,” you barely muttered.

“Come on, baby. That’s it. Shit—”

He’s panting as he squeezes your neck again, recreating the pressure your throbbing cunt was feeling. That pushed you over the edge. Everything falls to a standstill as you come undone around him, crying out his name as if he was some sort of god; which in this moment, he might as well have been.

He didn’t give you a second to recover, continuing to fuck into you with such heedlessness, his own orgasm follows shortly after. He dropped on top of you and you gasped at the next few sharp thrusts, although slower than before right up until he cums.

“Fuck— Pretty girl, takes me so well.” Eddie breathed, completely blissed out.

The two of you lay there for a few moments longer, trying to catch your breaths. Everything was quite peaceful as you brushed his hair away from his face, gently forcing him to look at you. You offer him a smile. One he returns quite gladly.

Usually at this point, Eddie’s doing everything he can to get rid of the other person, but with you it felt different. He wanted you here for as long as you’d stay.

So, even though he didn’t admit it out loud, he was more than a little happy when you openly asked if you could “stick around” a little longer, maybe even fall asleep with him that night.

The last time Eddie had seen you, you were picking up your scattered garments off his bedroom floor before getting dressed. It was early. Too early for him, but you had a shoot you needed to get to and he wanted to kiss you goodbye.

“Promise not to break into any more houses, sweetheart.” Eddie teased against your plush lips, hand cupping your cheek.

“Just yours,” you teased back and kissed him, then again, and again. “I’ll call you later, ‘kay?”

He almost didn’t let you go. He almost pulled you back under the covers for round three and four, and when you didn’t call his place later that day, he kinda wished he had. He hung around by the phone waiting for it to ring, then he felt pathetic for doing so.

The last time Eddie heard from you was a week later. He was back at the studio, working on a song he didn’t want to admit to his bandmates was actually about you. A girl he had no business being hung up on.

It was just one night, he would tell himself, but it was no use.

“Eddie,” Marianne hailed him and pointed to the phone, “Phone call for you.”

The curly-haired rocker exhaled a puff of smoke and picked up the receiver. “Hello. Who’s this?”

“Hey, sorry.”

His heart stopped ‘cause he recognised that voice anywhere. He shifted in his position, turning his back on the rest of the people gathered in the room just so they wouldn’t be able to read the expression on his face — longing.

“I know I said I’d call the second I finished at that shoot, but it went well into the night and honestly I just worried I'd wake you,” you explained. “Then I had a morning flight back to New York, a luncheon my grandmother had me attend plus some other family shit… Anyway, I just wanted to call and apologise, hope you’re not too upset with me.”

He was upset. Although the knowledge of that was a power he couldn't relinquish. Usually, he wasn't the one waiting around for the other person. He was upset he let you cloud his thoughts after only one night — as fucking fun as it may have been.

“It’s okay,” Eddie lied, 'cause it was easier than to say he missed you. “Honestly, sweetheart, I forgot you even said you’d call.”

There was a second of silence in which the rock star closed his eyes and tried to calm his breathing while you fought back tears he didn’t even know he caused.

“Right. I guess honesty is what I asked for…” you muttered coldly. “See you around, Eddie.”

The line went dead. Beep. Beep. Beep. Eddie pressed the receiver to his forehead, his grip around it tightening. “Motherfucker—”

“All good?” Jeff asked.

“Yeah man,” Eddie lied again before turning back to the group. “Just some one night stand who mixed up the signals a little. Thought we’d be going out a second time, but I don’t do that shit.”

Not even one year later, that same exact “one night stand” stood in front of Eddie once more and you looked even better than that night last August. Your skin was glowing, or perhaps that was just the dim studio light. Your makeup was definitely a lot sharper and it only highlighted your already near perfect facial structure. Then there was your outfit. Dressed in a short denim skirt, tight on your curves and held snug in place around your waist with a belt he knew was more expensive than anything he’s ever owned, the bottom was paired with a white cashmere turtleneck, short sleeved and cut right above your belly button.

Eddie swallowed thickly. He swore he’d gotten over whatever spell you put him under back then, but as you greeted his bandmates with the biggest smile on your face, looking as good as you did, his heart skipped a beat or two.

“And our frontman, Eddie Munson.” Marianne introduced, glancing at Eddie with an encouraging look on her face.

The curly-haired man wiped his sweaty palms on the sticky pleather of his pants and extended his right hand in your direction. You looked at it briefly, the smile on your face faltering.

“We’ve met before,” is all you said, without even looking at him once, before turning to Marianne. “Should we just get started? I listened to the song, I have no notes, otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”

Marianne glanced at Eddie then back at you. “Uhm, yeah, sure. Of course. Right this way.”

Eddie’s sad puppy-dog gaze followed you across the room. He observed silently as Marianne propped you in front of the microphone and handed you a set of headphones. He desperately wanted you to look at him. He wanted your eyes to lock with his ‘cause perhaps an unspoken apology offered only by a single exchange of glances would be enough to get you on the right track. But you didn’t.

“What the fuck did you do?” Gareth muttered next to him.

“I fucked up, man.” Eddie answered honestly this time. “Fucked up pretty bad.”

Gareth knew better than to press on the matter further, especially in front of everyone else, so he gently smacked Eddie’s back instead. It was a silent set of condolences, one Eddie definitely didn’t deserve since this was all his fault.

The band had all taken their places. Jesus Christ, he was really in for an unbearable day and he had no one to blame but himself. Sighing silently, Eddie crossed the studio and stood at the microphone, placed only a feet away from yours.

He stole another glance. You still refused to look at him, focusing instead on the carpet between your feet, hands on your hips.

“You know what I’m gonna say,” Marianne began, “But the day I don’t say it, is gonna be the day we make a shit piece of art so, here goes: good luck and have some fucking fun!” Then she disappeared into the other room, behind the glass.

An unsettling silence filled the air.

Usually Eddie would take the lead, but he found himself incapable. His attention was solely focused on you. Every inch of him wanted to shout, beg for any sort of acknowledgement. You continued to give him nothing and he thought you weren’t ever going to look at him again.

But then you did and frankly, that was much worse.

“Honesty, take one,” you said into the microphone while staring deadpan at the rockstar beside you. Confirming, without saying much else, that you knew this song he wrote was in fact about you.

part two

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #rockstar!eddie #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson story #eddie munson drabble #celebrity skin.

597 notes · View notes