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#get some real lights fool
radioconstructed · 1 year
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⌖ HI, HEY, HELLO! IT’S ME, hi, I’m the problem, IT’S ME, SIMULCASTING LIVE ON AIR and LIVE ON CAMERA! I almost NEVER DO THAT! Are YOU tired of scam calls? I SURE AM! Let’s make these CLOWNS our little APRIL FOOLS! TUNE IN for WILD IMPROV, VOICE ACTING, SCAMMER MALDING, and COVERS OF THE SCAMMER PAYBACK SOUNDTRACK! ALL DAY!
#// gonna drop context in the TAGS!#scambaiting is exactly what it sounds like! you bait scammers. for example pretending to be a potential victim to waste their time. some#people can go further and get their info to report to authorities or reverse connection into their computer and mess up their operations.#Al's goal here is to improv some insane scenarios (see link for an example) and have fun wasting these clowns' time so they can't make money#(this also saves victims but she is fueled mostly by pettiness and spite bc she hates robocalls)#they do get raging tho and she is gonna have so much fun making them rage. she has her own creative insults too.#(first link is long (but worth it) but the second two videos are short)#Her focus is improv but pls remember that she's pretty techliterate (like... her operating system is a linux and she set the hotel network#up with pihole to block all ads on the network) so she is running a virtual machine in case some scammer asks to remote into her computer.#Also! Scammer Payback is a scambaiter with a large following. He collabed with musicians to make a soundtrack. The songs pass as love songs#and stuff but they're about scammers/scamming/scambaiting and it's great. It's Al energy.#Anyway she VERY RARELY goes live on camera bc she dislikes being on camera in real time as there's no editorial control#but this is the sort of thing she wants to be on camera for! she's also broadcasting.#So. Lots of fun improv with live music between calls. It'll be fun. You'll get to see her make music live. Live looping and live instruments#(I don't think city lights & rain on me are officially part of the soundtrack. it's just the same artists collabing. but they have good sax#solos and I think april fool's is The day for Al to unironically refer to herself as h*rny in a song.)#⌖ online#⌖ hellfie#OH! THE FIREARM! I had drafted Al doing an iconic moment from a pengu*nz0 video and decided to use it for this.#She has that bisexual lighting going on too. It's to match the vaporwave music and also bc it's classic youtube.
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evilminji · 2 months
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You know all those Cults in Gotham?
Bet at least ONE of them could spring for both a Legit Magic User and a Cloning pod.
Because The Wayne's? Hearts of Gold. Long standing pains in the asses. Probably the only thing standing between this gods forsaken wasteland of a city and Their Dark Lord. For GENERATIONS no less!
It's sooooo obnoxious!
So they want to Curse Um dead. Just a good ol fashioned bloodline curse. Destroy um from within, etc. BUT! To do THAT? You kinda need a blood relative to sacrifice!
And Bruce is... well... rather infamously An Orphan With No Biological Kids (at that point).
So? What do you do? Make one, obviously. You send in some of your own on a Holy Mission. Honeypot that playboy! Get us a kid to sacrifice! Our God will reward you etc! But... FFS! What? Are brunettes not your TYPE or something?! Pretty lady! Throwing herself at you!!
TAKE THE BAIT!
But he DOESN'T. Because he's both really used to that behavior, as The Wayne Heir and a False Playboy, AND because? He's fuckin Batman. He can see through your schemes.
Okay.
Okay!
Plan B!
Get us some DNA. We'll CLONE the sucker. That should be doable, right?
........OH COME ON! How?!
Batman: [REDACTED] / Cultists: 0
Fuck it! This is impossible! How are we supposed too... *eyes drift over to the Wayne Family Private Graveyard* .......Idea? Ideeeeaaaa~! Someone get us a shovel!
So they, cultist bastards that they are? Fuckin rob a grave for some DNA.
OBVIOUSLY though, it can't be one of the more RECENT graves! He probably VISITS those! Watches them! No we gotta be SNEAKY! Get one a bit further back! Mwahahahaha! We're so brilliant! Our God is gonna give us SUCH a Good Grade in follower!
A thing that is both REAL and possible to achieve!
So, while a Weirdly FURIOUS Batman? Is just... VIOLENTLY breaking ALL of their bones? Cultist 17 is furiously digging like his life depends on it. Either somebody snitched or Batman was hunting them down! Either way?
Gotta! Get! That! DNA!!! *digs faster*
Ah HA! Got it!
Fucking SCATTER! Run you fools, RUN!!! *everyone bolts*
And AT LAST! They have it! Wayne DNA! Now? Pop that sucker into the machine and make us a baby! Too sacrifice! *relieved noises* Man, that was hard work you guys. But we DID it!
Except??
Theoretical Babies? And "Real, slowly forming in front of me and becoming a human child" type babies? VERY DIFFERENT psychologically. It's ONE thing to sacrifice a HYPOTHETICAL baby... but when you're the guy running and monitoring the Cloning machine? Watching it slowly form and come together into... into a CHILD?
You start asking questions of yourself. Of God.
Of what, EXACTLY, you are willing to do.
What lines you find yourself unwilling to cross.
And yeah, your life was SHIT before the cult. Yeah, you were alone. Adrift. Without purpose. Angry at the world for all of its ugliness and failings. But... sitting, alone, in a dark room? Nothing but the steady hum of machines and the cool light of that pod? You are left with nothing but time... and your thoughts.
And the baby.
The one... the one YOU made.
Almost... he's almost like a son, in a way. Your son. Floating there, innocent and unknowing. Destined to be born, only to die painfully, for a cause he could not even begin to understand. Because he's too young. Too small. Just... just a baby.
The baby YOU made.
Doubt seeps in like mist. Creeping into the cracks forming in your faith. Surely there's another way, right? Why not save up for a better magician? Or... or hire a hitman? Why involve a child? Surely... surely your God would not WANT this, right? Or if He did! Surely, he would want the boy to be able to CHOOSE, right? A noble sacrifice, for the cause?
The pressure builds. Batman is tearing the city APART looking for your fellow Believers. Leadership is pressuring you to get "It" ready all ready.
He's not an "it".
They are dismissing your questions. Threatening and posturing, as you grapple with your faith. Where? Where is the COMMUNITY that you joined? The camaraderie? Every day, Believers are being torn down. The faith has lost so many!
How can this be WORTH it?
Your faith is slowly, cruelly, strangled in your chest. A death, by ten thousand silences, and ten thousand more cruelties.
Your son is ready.
You do not tell them.
The Clone of Bruce Wayne's great-grandfather is small, but healthy, in your arms. A tiny warm body, with a strong beating little heart. You call the police. Leave your phone, call running, on the desk. No one thinks to stop you, as you calmly walk out the back door.
Why would they doubt?
You are Faithful.
You drive. Pray to a God you have lost faith in, beg forgiveness for what you do now. Your beat up old junker of a car makes decent time, as you leave Gotham. Your son, asleep in a carefully made nest of blankets, on the seat next to you. You drive. You keep driving.
Past towns.
Past cities.
Out of the state.
Stopping only to feed your son and fuel your car. You... you can not bring yourself to care about what will happen to you now. You know they will find you. Know this is the end. But something ancient burns in your chest. A caring you never thought was REAL.
You are afraid.
But you will not let them harm your son.
Finally, a town. Far from Gotham. Quite and cheerful. It calls to you.
Here. It... it has to be here.
You find the hospital. Tears choking you. There is a place to drop of children. You've seen them before. How strange, that now you stand before it and HURT. Your arms not listening to your command. You... you have to do this. You HAVE too.
He is just a baby.
He is your son.
You have to keep him safe. And... and that can not be with you.
You gently put your baby boy into the drop off. Press the buzzer. And then? You make yourself walk away.
Get back in your car, and drive. The gun in your glove box will insure they can never pry from you, what you have done. Where he is. He is safe now. He has to be. You... you did your job. As his father. You made sure he was safe.
You can barely see the road, through your tears.
You take your secrets to the grave.
And Danny? He grows up. Is adopted young and never knows different. Both a Fenton and a Wayne. Knowing only one of these, to be his. But... that Wayne? Was a damn fine man. A pillar of his community and a champion of the people.
Got tossed more then a few blessings, in his life.
They weren't the STRONGEST. But they added up. And more importantly? Were hardly the refined magics of the more powerful. They were cast onto "Him". By blood and bone, more often then not. Which was all well and good!
When there was only ONE of "Him".
Cloning technology did not exsist. So why would you word carefully against it? Danny becomes a VERY lucky boy. Survives many things he should not. In fact, the kindness and hard work of his original? Gifted back in magically powered well wishes? By this, he survives something NO ONE could possibly expect him too.
It saves his life.
His template would be quite pleased, knowing that. That his life of good deeds, saved the life of the child he never got a chance to meet. That it protected his children, from even beyond death.
And in Gotham? At long, long last. The program Bruce made in his helplessness and despair, to search EVERY child until the child made of his bloodline was found? Spits out a match.
A Watchtower engineer.
Daniel J. Fenton.
@hdgnj @hypewinter @lolottes @babbling-babull @nerdpoe @mutable-manifestation
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thepradapariah · 2 months
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Mars ☄️ and Your Sexxx Language 🐱💋✨
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QUICK MESSAGE TO THE BADDIES
HELLO!!!! To all of my sweet, sweet Kosmic Baddies, Oh!! How I’ve missed you!
I cannot believe it’s been over a FRIGGIN year, but GOODNESS….believe me, when I say this past year has been a roller coaster for me, I truly mean it. I can only imagine what’s been going on in your lives as well. Just TOO MUCH!!!1111!!!!!111!!!!!1 But welcome to 2024! A universal 8 year and the year of the Dragon!!! WE IN THIS THANNNNGGG!!!! Hard work, discipline and accountability is the theme, and we can’t lose!!!!!
Believe it or not, I actually STARTED writing this to have to you for Halloween, but ummmm….this is looking like a Valentine’s Day post instead! HA!!!! Blame it on my Saturn in Pisces– my relationship to time is….non existent. But, I think this timing is better anyways. The theme is very fitting so we are going to turn apples into oranges.
***Even funnier update, now it’s past Valentine’s Day….GOODNESS!!! This has been the longest it’s taken me to write anything. Like…INSANE. Almost 6 months I’ve been steadily working on this!
Thank you to those who have continued to support me! Thank you to those who have continued to share and interact with my post through my…let’s say, hiatus! I am planning to put more energy and effort into this blog post. I LOVE writing for y’all, it is really one of my favorite things in the world.
I am going to take a moment to apologize in advance and say, the typos are probably going to be real with this one. Because I’ve been working on it for so long, I’m just ready to get it out, so it won’t be my cleanest work. I will probably be updating and editing, so bare with me!
🕯 INTRODUCTION 🕯
Sooooo….where to start? I wanted to do something fun and interesting this go round because I missed y’all so much, but I also wanted to do something light so I could get back into the rhythm of writing again….aaaaaaaaaand I thought you would enjoy something a little smexiiiii as we move into cuddle buddy season. So, in this post, we are going to talk about Mars and Your Sexxx language.
One day, as I was driving around town, it dawned on me that we always talk about Love Languages (check out my Mercury post if you haven’t already) and we never talk about sex languages. And y’all know me, and if you don’t know, you’ll soon find out, I am a Bharani moon (atmakaraka at that); and the blending between Mars and Venus is my soul’s most valuable asset to share with the world…(Did I mention my moon is the 11th House?) Sex is one of the most taboo topics (in Western puritan culture, at least), yet such a powerful resource in our human tool box and it’s ridiculously important in our relationships. The 7th House is followed by the 8th House for a reason. Intimacy, of course not always sexual, is what leads to self-discovery, the 9th House. So we cannot overlook the important step that is sexual relations. Even the word “orgasm” means “little death” and death baby, is as close as you get to God. (See how those houses flow together so well?) Hence why things such as Tantra are a sexual AND religious experience all in one. Don’t be fooled by western/christian ideals into thinking that sex is unholy or ungodly. If you think Jesus was a virgin, think again. I mean, what’s the point of turning water into wine if you’re just going to roll over and go to sleep? Y’know what I mean?
Don’t worry! If you’re a less experienced reader, and haven’t engaged in aaaaallll thhhaattt… this post is still for you! In fact, this is one of the reasons I love astrology so much, because hopefully this post will give you some context about yourself and what your SOUL craves, not just your body, so when you do start “doing the do” you can be spiritually comfortable with your wants and desires instead of ashamed or even afraid of them.
Not to put all my business on the street…but, hey, I love y’all, so I won’t keep too many secrets from you (mercury in the 8th, HA)…but, I had to do quite a bit of bumping and grinding to discover what my soul needs in an intimate relationship and I wish there was more of “guide” for me on that journey! So HERE…I’m giving it to you!
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WHAT IS A SEX LANGUAGE? 😈
To be completely honest, a “sex language” isn’t something as defined as a love language, so please, bear with me as we discover this together. Please feel free to share any experiences or insight with me. Although I may not always respond, I TRULY appreciate you taking the time to share with me. I try to read everything that I can!
I’m defining sex language as how one creates and shares intimacy in their close relationships. This is particularly expressed through physical interactions and outward expressions. Mars is a planet that governs our passions, drives and desires, meaning our sex language is guided by what we deeply want and crave from our partners on a spiritual level. Venus represents more of the external notions that we have for love and relationships, while Mars represents our internal needs from love and relationships. Mars is inherently a more personal and “self-centered” planet, so interestingly enough, your sex language is all about you! I go as far to say, when you find a partner, don’t forget to check your Mars compatibility as well. If you have extremely incompatible Mars signs, you will have to do a lot more work in the relationship to overcome the constant friction. Moreover, if you have more compatible Mars signs, then WOOOO BABY, the sexual tension could be off the charts!
✨ ABOUT MARS ✨
Mars placements won’t make or break a relationship, per say, but it is a very important layer to help maintain a relationship. How many of you have heard of sexless marriages and people being unsatisfied in their relationships in a sexual way? Does that mean the couples always break-up because of the lack of sex or chemistry? No…..But does it help a HECK OF A LOT when you are wildly attracted to your partner? YES! (Of course this isn’t always a good thing…but for the sake of this post, we are only talking about rainbows and sunshine.) Just keep this in mind as you start to use this knowledge in your journey. Mars is a really important planet that is easy to overlook because it’s not in the Big Three! (Yet, it iiissss the natural ruler of the 1st House).
WHY IT ALL MATTERS 🌚
I truly believe there is a shift in the collective and many couples are going to be coming into union over the course of the next year or so. Why? Because Ketu is FINALLY transitioning out of Libra and entering Virgo. If you’ve noticed, we’ve seen quite a bit of celebrity break-ups and covid relationships coming to a screeching halt. Hence why I say, if you’ve been single, or haven’t been in a serious connection in the last few years or even ever, now is the time that your next partner might be going through some significant ending with an ex. Union is on the horizon for a lot of souls who have been doing theeee spiritual work. That’s why I couldn’t think of a better topic to get started to set the mooooooooood. Bow-chicka-wow-wow.
So without further ado, let’s get into the nitty gritty. I’m going to do something different and start with Mars in Pisces/12th House and work backwards to Mars in Aries/1st House! I thought “Hey! Why not switch it up a bit? Pisces shouldn’t be forced to scroll ALL the time!”
***Note: If you’re feeling extra spicy, you can read for whatever sign is in your 1st House and 8th House as well because those are traditionally Mars ruled Houses. And you can read for your 12H, because the 12H is also the house of bedroom pleasures! Always keep in mind that we are complex creatures and astrology is like a puzzle, so it’s okay for some things to resonate and other things to not. Learn as many perspectives as possible so you can define yourself!
With Love & Lust,
Enjoy!
A-D 💋
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Mars in Pisces/Mars in the 12th House
“Cut me like a rose, turn me like a beast” Only- Ry X
If your natal Mars is in Pisces or the 12H, you may actually have a hard time knowing what your desires are. Why? Because Mars can feel as if it’s drowning in the deep spiritual waters of Pisces. Your wants can be quite dreamy. You crave a sexual experience that transcends space and time, forcing you to leave your body and touch God himself in ecstasy. (I’m a western Mars in Pisces, so…I get it). When it comes to your sex language, you want your partner to just get “you”. You don’t want to have to explain or talk or direct, you’d rather just receive and give a special type of unconditional love that knows no bounds. Because of this “boundless love”, you may actually, literally, lack boundaries. This doesn’t have to be a bad thing, so we are going to focus on the positive. You are truly accepting of those who are accepting of you. Because Pisces is a mutable sign, you are willing to fit into whatever box your partner wants to put you in…and you receive great pleasure from making a deep seeded fantasy of your partner come true. You could be just as playful and imaginative when it comes to role-playing as a Gemini.
Because Mars is in Pisces or the 12H, you’ll find that a lot of partners will project their wishes and dreams onto you. Hence why you want a love that is really deep, because people can get washed away in the shallow end of your energy without ever fully realizing how deep your waters flow. This can be frustrating. And because Mars isn’t the most comfortable here, you can have some unhealthy ways of expressing your sexual frustration. Particularly if your Mars is in the 12H, you can be attracted to self-gratification through self-pleasure and also self-harm. You may even conflate the two, harm & pleasure, and have a dark side to your sexual fantasies. Your passions and desires can end up being repressed because people may not understand them, or be able to meet your high expectations. Amd babes, I love you, but just know, your expectations out of partnership are OTHERWORLDLY. But no worries!! You are SUPER DUPER freaky and almost a guaranteed partner that will go down in history books, particularly after you get comfortable in your own sensuality.
One of the things to watch out for with this Mars, is you can be passive-aggressive in the bedroom. You can take a more passive role, expecting and energetically demanding that your partner take the lead. You may not realize you even give off this energy, but the internal need that you have to dissolve into your partner, like sugar into water, can be very intense. And the gag is, sugar doesn’t really fully dissolve, so what you’re seeking can be impossible to satisfy on the earthly plane. Because of this, it is IMPERATIVE for you to have spiritual outlets within your sexual connections. It may be that you and your partner practice Tantra, or you simply pray together. With this Mars, you can absolutely use sex as a tool for manifestation. Watch your thoughts during sex, because you truly can create MAGIK!
Mars in Aquarius or Mars in the 11th House
“I believe in aliens, I don’t believe in love” Familiarity by Teezo Touchdown
If your natal Mars is in Aquarius or the 11th House, you are something special. Why? Because out of all the signs, you are the most unique lover. I KNOW!!! How friggin’ cliche, Aquarius=Unique, blah blah blah…boring. YES! It’s said all the time, but it’s the truth. In Vedic Astrology, it is important to note that Aquarius is ruled by Saturn and Rahu. This is hugely impactful as to why you are unlike anyone else. Even as you read this, you won’t be exactly like the next person reading this, because the Saturn Rahu combination can be influenced by so many different factors. Aquarians are the hardest sign to write for in general, simply because you are going to be very individualist when it comes to how you express yourself. Now, all that being said, you still crave, very deeply, a sense of belonging. So please, don’t ever take for granted how special you are. If someone is lucky enough to break through your hard exterior, they really are in for an extraterrestrial experience!
Because Mars is in an air sign here, you may or may not be the most sensual and/or sexual person on the planet. You could be. But you could not be. And that is the gift…or curse…of this Mars placement. I have Mars in Aquarius myself, and I remember reading an article that said “this placement can be infuriating to your partner because you are so nonchalant.” And I can definitely say I’ve lost relationships because the other party assumed I was disinterested because I wasn’t the most expressive when it came to my emotions. It’s important to remember that Mars in Aquarius/11H is actually a neutral placement. It isn’t a death sentence or the worst thing on the planet, but it’s not necessarily the best. So don’t be too hard on yourself if your partners don’t understand you very easily. You will just have to do more work to learn how to communicate and accommodate in your relationships. This may be something that follows you throughout life…and forget your partner….it could be infuriating to you! BUT NO WORRIES! Mars in Aquarius or Mars in the 11th house is usually more concerned with developing and nurturing friendships, which seems to contradict the more lustful side of Mars. Longing for friendship and connection versus longing for sensual pleasure and connection can be seen as two different things.
What Mars in Aquarius/11H wants more than anything is L. O. Y. A. L. T. Y. Because this Mars placement can grant so much freedom, it is imperative for the person with this placement to feel safe and secure in the sexual relationship they are building. This is NOT to be confused with possession. Expecting loyalty from a partner isn’t the same as feeling as if you own your partner. You believe that your partner should have freedom to express and live their life the way they want to, and you expect the same in return. However, you do expect your partner to consider you when they make their decisions in life. It is very much “give a dog a bone, leave a dog alone, let a dog roam and he’ll find his way home” (S/o DMX, may he rest in peace). Meaning, in your sexual language, you want your space and privacy, but you want to feel a belonging no matter how far away you are from your partners.
NOW, for the fun stuff. You are one of the most explorative lovers on the planet. You may have a “the more the merrier” type attitude and be interested in group smexii time or oragies. You may have a dream to experience Amsterdam and the Red Light District. The beauty in having your Mars in an air sign/house is that you can remain detached from the sexual experience and partner– therefore, you may not experience jealousy because you aren’t super possessive. Again, you’re all about freedom baby!!! You may also have some pretty “far-out” kinks. You may be interested in different genders, or same gender, or mix gender or no gender or latex or pantyhoes or dress up or furries or hentai or tentacle porn….and if you’re not into it, chances are you will at least click a questionable link or two. You don’t carry the same shame as others do when it comes to what turns you on sexually. You don’t like anything boring or too routine, so your search history could be a bit…odd….BUT HEY!!! As long as it’s not hurting anyone or anything and pleasure is being derived from all parties involved, then let adults do what adults do is kind of your attitude.
Friendship is the key to your heart…and to your…uh…biological box….lol. When it comes to long-term relationships, I can bet my bottom dollar that you’re far more interested in the friendship aspects than the inherent relationship drama. When your friends ask “why are you still dealing with them”, you will follow up with “well, we are friends before anything else.” And you mean that deeply. The really funny thing is…on the other hand, you are also very likely to get down with complete strangers and never think about it again. You can hook-up and detach with the best of them, or your loyalty to a confidant can keep you in a relationship for a very long time…it. Just. depends.
The one thing that is true about your sex language, is that you speak ALL different kinds. When you look back at your life and your experiences, if you are more of an adventurous Aquarian, lets say you have a lot of air and fire in your chart, you will most likely have all kinds of stories from all different people and places. You will be one of the most interesting partners and friends to talk to about all the mixed bags of experiences that you’ve had..which is awesome. If your Mars in Aquarius/11H is paired with a more “earthy” sign or even water, you will most likely have a rom-com type love thing happening…that tugging “will they/won’t they” energy at the beginning of relationships, only to fall head over heals with the “guy/gal next door”. You may also find your sexual partners online, in a group setting or be hooked up by natural friends. “How’d you meet?” “Oh, I heard from a friend of a friend that that d*ck is a ten out of ten!”
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Mars in Capricorn or Mars in the 10th House
“My vicious love, My lethal heart, I wanna screw you up into me” - Bad Bad Bad by Ramsey
If your natal Mars is in Capricorn or in the 10th House, then your sexual language is money, money…and….uh….more money. I kid, I kid…but not really. It would be easy and predictable for me to say you just lust after money, but it goes much deeper than that. Believe it or not, Mars is actually exalt in Capricorn, so, you couldn’t have a better Mars placement. Your natural ruler Saturn and Mars truly are the best of friends. And if you’re familiar with Tarot, then you know The Devil represents Capricorn energy and The Devil is all about seduction and temptation. Unlike some of the more dreamy Mars placements like Pisces/12H or Cancer 4H that use their sexual language as an escape from reality, or the detached air placements like Gemini/3H or Aquarius/11H, who are too aloof to harness Mars’ energy, YOU my Capricorn/10H individuals are acutely aware of how powerful the nature of sex can be…and most importantly, how it can be used to your advantage.
To the average person on the street, you may not seem like the super sexual type. You prefer a sophisticated lover to a “cute” one, so people can assume that your standards are too high. And perhaps, your standards are high, because you understand the value of your presence and your time. In fact, you HATE wasting time, so why would you waste time on lovers who don’t bring anything to the table? Sadly, for most of the public, they won’t ever have the experience to be with a Capricorn/10H Mars because quite frankly, they can’t afford it.
Funnily enough, I’m sure as you’ve been reading this, you’re like “dang…am I that shallow?” And the answer is yes and no. You’re shallow because we live in a shallow world– and you know in order to survive it, you have to use what you got to get what you want. The other side of this is, you’re not shallow at all because you are willing to work and discipline yourself and sacrifice for those that you truly care about. There is such a depth to you in the long run, that it makes sense that you make it really difficult for people to get to you. Because you know and I know, once you’ve committed to someone, you’ve committed for as long as you possibly can. Your sexual language is all about stamina and endurance. This is true in and and out of the bedroom. As an earth sign/house, you are a sensual being. You enjoy each and every bit of romance that you can get. A nice meal, some good perfume, dressed to the nines is all considered foreplay to you. You entice your partners with a certain dignified class and only the brave will approach. In your younger years, you could find this extremely frustrating at times because men will really have to get their sh*t together before they can even THINK to approach you on that level. But the more that you use your Mars to get you where you want to be in life, partners will follow behind you and constantly buzz around as if you are the Queen Bee and they are mere workers for your attention.
Funnily enough, you are quite the heart-breaker with this Mars placement. Because you are so focused on your goals outside of love, and yet, you can crave sensual pleasures, you will be very direct with a partner, but they may not be aware of how serious you take yourself. How can this manifest? Let’s say you meet a partner and everything is groovy, but you are working on a big project for work, you’re working on a degree of some kind, or you’ve said you won’t rest until you make partner at the big company…unlike other Mars placements, you won’t let romance sway you or take you off track. You are probably the best example of “right person, wrong time”. You don’t have as much of an issue as other signs walking away from a situation that is distracting you from your more worldly desires. This can leave people utterly confused, because you seem like a perfect partner, but honestly, you’re just not focused on aaaalll the drama that can come with fully committed relationships. People may actually take this energy and say that you’re a player…or worse…a floozy (one of my favorite words lol, definitely needs to make a comeback). You actually aren’t. You will be one of the most committed partners they could find, but if it’s not the right time…it just ain’t happening. So your partners will have to maintain some level of patience or they will miss out. On the other hand, because Mars is a planet of extremes, you may go through periods in life where you are celebate. It may take you awhile to stop channeling that Martian ambitious energy into your career and put it towards your sexuality. That being said, you will enjoy the more sensual side of sex. You could have great stamina and endurance. Because sex may not come around as often as you’d like, you will learn to savor every drop of your partners and please them in a calculated, thoughtful and masterful way! How smeeexxxiiiiiii!!!!!
Mars in Sagittarius or Mars in the 9th House
“I’ve been everywhere, man, looking for someone. Someone who can please me, love me all night long” Where Have You Been by Rihanna
If your natal Mars is in Sagittarius or the 9th House, your sexual language is that of many languages. You fall in love with the exotic, unknown and unexplored. You like your partners like James Bond likes his cars– foreign. You appreciate partners who expand your understanding of reality. Your partners have to expand your mind…and body…into positions that you never thought were possible. If you don’t attract partners who are of a different race, culture or class from you, then you will be attracted to partners who are otherworldly and spiritual or are just as serious about their religious beliefs as you are. Like Mars in Pisces/12H, your planet is ruled by the planet Jupiter, aka Guru. You NEED to learn from your partner. You NEED to explore with your partner. And you NEED to be able to teach your partners something as well. “I wanna know…can you show me…I wanna know about the strangers like me”...It’s giving…Tarzan and Jane. I have Mars in the 9th House, and it has manifested in a very fun way! So with my bias, I believe that this can be one of the more fun placements if you just go with the flow. Unlike other Mars placements, you don’t necessarily feel the need to control your partners. You’d much rather experience them, learn the lesson and move on to the next new shiny thing. Much like your brother, Gemini, you are equally as invested in getting the knowledge and seeking more knowledge. You of all signs are unlikely to overstay your welcome in a relationship. You can come off quite restless and unsatisfied…UNLESS you are just fascinated and enamored with an individual.
You can find yourself attracted to people who have accents, or speak a different language than you. But you will be even more turned on by someone who shares the same religious beliefs as you. You may actually be willing to convert religions for your partner OR, and this is more likely, you have a partner who is a different religion than you are, and instead of being ashamed by it, or making it an obstacle, you embrace it– ultimately respecting their religion, while maintaining the traditions of your own.
You will naturally desire to travel with your partner. Making some of your favorite memories in life when you made-love in some far off land. If the sentence, “I made love to a Frenchman I met while eating a baguette at the local cafe under the Eiffel tower and I’ll never see him again, but he’s the love of my life” turns you on…congratulations, you’re in the right spot.
This Mars placement is fueled by your deepest desire to see the world and its deepest truth, and then just imagine how much you can learn about the world through the lens of an intimate partner. Your sexual language, like I said earlier, involves language in and of itself. You want to hear the stories of distants lands, fascinated by the foreign nature of your divine counterpart. You will want to be intimate with partners who can speak for hours and hours about their adventures and endeavors. You need to be intrigued at the very least.
I also find that with this placement, there may be an age difference in your relationships. You either will be attracted to someone who is much older and wiser, OR, interesting enough, you could find yourself with someone younger. Why is this? You will appreciate a person who still has zest for life. You will be equally attracted to partners who are bright eyed and bushy tailed! Plus, I know I’ve talked a lot about your partner entertaining and teaching you, but the truth of the matter is, you will want to be as much of a sage to your partner as well. You will enjoy teaching them the ways of life and the pursuit of happiness. They will look to you with eyes of wonder as you paint beautifully vivid pictures of your life experiences that have shaped your view of the world.
Another element to this Mars placement, is you are one to challenge authority. This may manifest in your sex language by liking to explore BDSM culture in some way. Because this Mars is all about freedom, you may be turned on by the thought of your partner controlling you…just so you can say no. You can come off as a “well, make me”...kind of lover when it comes to foreplay. You love a challenge and you like partners who challenge you in some way when it comes to living out your sexual fantasies. Another way this may come out is you AND your partner may have a knack for getting into trouble or enjoying sex with some kind of risk involved. You get off being able to sneak away for a quickie. You’ll have sex in the backseat of a car. Joining the mile club is definitely on your bucket list…all the things! Because you are such a rebel, you tell stories that have “normies” clutching their pearls and leave their mouths open. You want to have memorable sex that is worth writing a book about!!!
I can not drive home enough how spiritual your sexual relationships have the potential to be. You are not a shallow lover. You are a lover full of wonder and full of lust…wanderlust…if you will. Sagittarius/9H is a very serious zodiac/house. You're destined to seek truth– so your sexual partners HAVE to enlighten you in some way. You don’t want to get stuck in the mundane, boring stuff of a relationship, (and please, don’t get too carried away, because we do live on planet earth!) you want to experience shrooms, talk about God and make love in the forest! Smexxiiii!!!!
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Mars in Scorpio or Mars in the 8th House
“Every breath you take, every move you make, every smile you fake, every single day, I’ll be watching you” Every Breath You Take by Sting
Okay, okay, it would be all too easy to say your love language is stalking, and more stalking and even more stalking, but…that’s only a small fraction of what this Mars placement has to offer. If your natal Mars is placed in Scorpio or in your 8th House, your sexual language is that of raw passion and intensity. That being said, it is also about restraint and self-restriction, and sometimes self destruction. I tend to find Scorpionic energy and 8H energy to be radically internal. You, actually, may not be the most expressive lover. You are more comfortable waiting, studying and planning to pursue a lover, rather than going in full force. Because Mars is your natural ruler, Mars is more than comfortable here, but unlike your brother sign, Aries, you are more of the “planning” part of war, rather than action. This is the strategy of self-defense more than anything. You don’t want to walk into an intimate situation to be intimate yourself, you want to extract vulnerability from your partner like a detective solving a murder crime. Your sex language is more of a riddle than a question. And you would like a partner who intrigues you and leaves a lot of mystery. In my many many years of dating, and many many encounters with Scorpionic energy (I attract them like flies…it’s crazy) I always find that Scorpios are nowhere near as mysterious or hard to figure out as they perceive. Behind all that black and dark stares and gazed is usually a pretty pretty boring, but shy person. There is such a caution with this sign when it comes to acting on those very deep and sometimes all consuming desires, so you are very careful to not put yourself in harm's way. Another hot take that I have on this placement that may seem a bit contradictory to the Scorpionic stereotype is YES YES YES, you are smexxxxiiii and all of the things, but that doesn’t necessarily make you the most sexual person. You take intimacy and sexy very seriously, more seriously than most, because for you intimacy and vulnerability can be used against you and be seen as a weakness, so you are hard pressed to just be going around willy-nilly swinging from partner to partner. You also view sex/intimacy as more of a “power” thing than a “love” thing. And what do I mean by that? You know that deep intimacy and truly being intertwined with another individual gives you an unreal amount of access to that person on a personal and spiritual level. It is always important to remember where Scorpio/8H lines up in the grand scheme of things. It follows the Libra/7H of partnership. The 8H is actually the house that dictates how a relationship will play out. This. Is. Imperative. To understand this placement. You are far more focused on how the partnership plays out, rather than the partnership itself. Again, unlike your predecessor, Libra, who is ruled by Venus and may be more interested in the looks of a relationship and romantic partner. Your sexual language is more interested in the psychology of your partner. You don’t care nearly as much about the outside as you do the inside. What draws you to your partner is a need to access the ultimate truths through your partners. Hence why, you are followed by Sagittarius/9H of Truth and Liberation. Your sex language involves restraint, power and hidden truths.
As I said before, it may be really difficult for you at times to truly connect with your partners because your energy can demand sooooo much from them. You will require partners to go through such depths in their relationship with you, that they may not be able to handle it. And on the other side of that, you may stay away from relationships because you may mistakenly feel like it brings out some of your “worst” qualities. With this Mars, you may go through a very intense relationship when you’re young, one where you give your all, I mean…you would kill or be killed for those you love, and because that relationship fails, you may never want to experience those types of lows again and stay away. You are one of the most loyal of the Mars placements, so you are very careful to study who exactly you are giving your loyalty to. I recommend with this placement, you may find yourself oddly attracted to Aquarian/11H energy. It sounds weird, water and air, but in this case, Aquarian energy is endlessly fascinating because they are so unorthodox, you will never truly figure them out, so you’re constantly intrigued by them. Aquarians also value loyalty the same way you do. They will allow you the freedom that you need to sit in your own emotions, but value the friendship in such a way, you won’t feel abandoned by them. Even if the people you are attracted to don’t have Aquarius in their chart, I think that quality is something you should consider when looking into intimate partners. It is probably the partner who gives you the most space and it is the hardest to figure out, that will give you the most in life. If you have a partner that is easy to conquer, not only will you be bored, but you can easily slip into those darker energies of control and manipulation to get you way…even when it’s unnecessary.
AAALLLL that said, you are still a hell of a lover! I mean…wow. You intricately know how to please and conquer. You use sex as a language itself when you’re ready and willing. And man, do you have a way with words. You can easily hypnotize a lover to fall under your command, so be careful with this gift. You are more than comfortable in this arena once you move past your fears in the subconscious. You can channel this energy, much like the exalt Mars in Capricorn to succeed with some of your greatest ambitions. You will put your sexual energy into your work and projects in a way like no other! Just don’t take everything so seriously! It’s okay to have a good time. Be intimate and open up some! You’ll enjoy getting your head out of the sand!
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Mars in Libra or Mars in the 7th House
“What a rush & what a high, cause when your love don’t fight, smoke gets in your eyes” Smoke In Your Eyes by Skepta, Ossie, Harry Stone
If you came to this section thinking that I was going to talk about how sweet and balanced you are when it comes to your sexual language…THINK. AGAIN. BABE. You are nothing of the sort. Seems contradictory, huh? Because Libra/7H is all about balance, right? Well…not when it comes to this Mars placement.
If you have your natal Mars in Libra or the 7th House, you are quite the spicy lover. To be completely honest, Mars is VERY uncomfortable here. Why? Because Libra is naturally ruled by the planet Venus, which is essentially the opposite frequency of Mars. I like to think of Mars and Venus as the brother and sister planets of the Milky way. Traditionally ruled by Ares and Aphrodite in Greek mythology respectively, they are technically half-siblings. So when you think of this Mars placement, this of how a girlie-girl would feel surrounded by all boys at a football camp. Sure, she may attract a lot of attention and she may have plenty of options…but she will CERTAINLY have to set clear boundaries to command the respect she deserves, as well as deal with the fact that no one around her may have the same interest. See how this can be uncomfortable? It’s not the worst thing to happen, but it can cause you to feel like you have to play the field a little bit differently because of Mars being in the House of Libra.
Okay, so now that we covered why this placement might be different than what you were imagining, let’s get into what this post is actually about!
If you have this natal placement, your sex language is all about breaking up to make-up. Because you’re on this constant quest of seeking balance, YOU will subconsciously or consciously seek chaos in order to regain balance. Your indecisive and somewhat aloof nature in relationships can be a source of frustration when it comes to your sexual expression with your lovers. If you have Mars in your 7H, you genuinely LOVE conflicts and attract conflicts to your relationships. You can be quite passive aggressive, honestly, and stir the pot to get attention. AAALLLL this being said, you still enjoy the finer things and love the idea of love, even though you may not have the most direct way of going about it. Your partners may even find you hard to read, and this can frustrate you, because your wishy-washy-ness is so innate to you, you may have a tendency to think that everyone is as back and forth with decision making as you are.
Ironically, more so than any of the previous placements I have discussed before, I will focus more on what sexual language you like from your partner rather than yourself. Of course, you like good food, good wine, good clothes, good banter, good company…you have Libra, like DUH, but I want to offer a different perspective on this placement.
So when it comes to your partners, you truly like a partner who takes charge, regardless of sex. You crave a level of masculinity and directness in your love language because as I stated earlier, it can be difficult for you to make decisions for yourself. You overemphasize how people will perceive you, and this can cause you to stunt your decision making, so you’ll find yourself craving a partner who can be unabashedly unapologetic in their approach to life. You seek partners who are brave and courageous and you will find yourself testing anyone you fall in love with to see if they have that spark of passion in them. You may find yourself seeking different things from different people, so you may have multiple lovers– and just like how it may take you forever to pick out your outfit in the morning, it may take you forever to figure out what you value in a partner. It is important to note that Libra/7H energy is indeed a masculine energy. I’m sure most would assume it’s feminine because of the “sophisticated” and charismatically social nature usually associated with Libras, but when it comes to sexual relationships, Taurus/2H energy is the feminine side of Venus. Libra energy in this way is more detached than people would think. As stated earlier, because you enjoy dates, chatting, getting to know people, you may be a really good casual dater! This could send mixed messages to potential lovers because you may have never really had any intention of dating them long-term– or, you really just haven’t decided yet. Now are we starting to see how this Mars placement can attract certain conflict? You will desire and crave a partner that can make decisions for you. This may lead to some kinkiness in the bedroom because you’re open to compromise and you can be bossed around in this regard.
Overall your sexual language is complex because of the inherent contradiction of this natal placement. You can make this work in your favor as long as you keep open communication with your partner, even if it’s to tell them that you need some more time before you’re comfortable making any lasting decisions. When you date, you will have to allow your partners to understand your up & down nature. Most people will probably take your pragmatic nature personally, so if you can find a way to channel this into being sexually playful with your lovers, it can be a great way to keep romance fun and interesting. As stated in the beginning, you are most likely to end up in an on-again-off-again kind of relationship because you like for the scales to be tipped, so you can rebalance them. You are far more detached in commitments than most people would assume, so it is essential for you to date like-minded people who understand that your coldness is not a reflection on your feelings. You choose to remain objective in your judgements and seek fairness in your relationships—even if you are the one who was unfair to begin with! Kiss it kiss it better baby!!!!
Mars in Virgo or Mars in the 6th House
“I got commitment issues, but I’m tryna fix that for you…I don’t believe in love, but that doesn’t mean I don’t take you serious” Commitment Issues by Central Cee
With Mars in Virgo or the 6th House, you may be surprised to find how non-committal you are when it comes to relationships. Why? Because you find relationships to be impractical. So when it comes to your sexual language, you are quite all over the place. Lovers can find you hard to catch, almost like trying to keep a fairy in a jar. You prefer to flutter around and keep things light in the sexual department. To you, sex can scream responsibility. After all, sex can be a pretty risky and dirty affair. All the fluid exchange and, ultimately, the required vulnerability, can make you quite uneasy. With this Mars placement, you can go between the two extremes of putting too much emphasis on sex or not enough emphasis at all. This is due to the natural ruler of Virgo/6H being Mercury, which, I find to be, an asexual planet. You are more interested in the intellectual connection than the physical connection.
BUT PLEASE, don’t get me wrong! You know you’re way around the bedroom. Your sexual language is constantly evolving. You do well with long-term partners that you can trust, study and get to know. You prefer a lover that is loyal, so you don’t have to worry about where they’ve been, or better yet, who they’ve been with. You find joy in repetition with one partner. OR, you are really open to “protected” one-night stands. You are either all in or all out. You don’t like to waste time on sexual relationships that you don’t see a return for a long-term investment. That being said, if you are unable to invest in the long-term, you can find yourself in a position of sexual frustration. You may really desire a person, but because of your deep need for perfection first, you may stall connections & find a lot of pleasure in masturbation for the time being. You, like your opposite sign, Pisces, can really get into your fantasies. You may find that erotica and romance novels can be great resources to pass the time while you likely toil between celibacy and being a whore (this is particularly funny to me because Virgos are known for being the Virgins of the zodiac– hence the contradiction in Mars in Virgo. The planet of sex and desire ruled by a “Virgin” is, uh….a difficult juxtaposition to say the least.) – again, it’s all about mental stimulation with you.
When you do meet a partner that you can FINALLY settle down and feel comfortable with, you will be a very giving lover. Because Virgo energy is usually associated with servitude, you better believe that you will make it your duty to service the object of your affection. You care very deeply about the satisfaction of your partner— far more than you care about your own. As stated earlier, you don’t mind finishing up solo as long as your partner is satisfied. You will find every nook and cranny, every deep desire, every love spot that your partner has, because you will analyze their body with astute detail. You will break your partner’s sexual language down and adapt it to be your own, because after all, you are a mutable sign. As well as being an earth sign, you do have a very deep sensual nature to you. Although you can come across as quite guarded with new partners, once you blossom, you really enjoy heavy petting and physical touch. You can spend so much time in your head and alone with your thoughts in other aspects of your life, you may find it very powerful to have a partner that literally grounds you and brings you back to planet Earth by holding you in their arms. Again, after you’ve bent over backwards (pun intended) to please your partner, you, more than any other sign, except maybe Leo, really needs to be acknowledged and celebrated for your hard work. You don’t take kindly to being undervalued or under appreciated when it comes to your romantic relationships in this context.
Believe it or not, this placement can actually be quite kinky! Why? Because of the influence of Mercury again. As stated before, you want to learn your partner’s as well as you possibly can to make sure you are seen as perfect in their eyes– sooooo, that means you’ll have some exploring to do. Mercury is such a curious planet, that it may not be kinky for the sensual pleasures of it all, but it will be interested in testing out sex & kinks for “research purposes”. This can give you a sort of detached feeling when it comes to sex, which may or may not work in your favor– you’re able to disassociate in a way that makes sex almost an out of body experience…it may take you some time to actually feel pleasure from sex. You are so focused on the other and pleasing your partner, you can forget that sex is supposed to be a two way street! I just want to reiterate, that this placement is so mutable, that you may find yourself pretty ambivalent towards sex at different times in your life. You’re kind of like “eh”. But there is hope, when you find a partner that lights your fire– you will find yourself wanting sex like a child wants candy! There is plenty of potential here for a beautifully active and engaging sex life– it just may take more time to develop than others.
Learn your own kinks! Have fun! Explore the more sensual side of life for yourself!
Anyone who is able to win you over (which is NOT an easy feat by any means) will be able to revel in the fact that you are such a wonderful lover! But don’t forget, sex is not a test that you can get an A + in, it’s supposed to be the culmination and celebration of it all!
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Mars in Leo or Mars in the 5th House
“She may be the queen of hearts, but I’m the queen of your body parts” - Cockiness, Rihanna
If you have Mars in Leo or Mars in the 5th House, you are Britney Spears, all eyes on me in the center of the ring just like a circus, bay-bee. You LOVE to put on a show. Your sexual language can make love-making a spectacle! You’re over the top, you’re loud, you roar. You LOVE LOVE LOVE the attention. So much so, you may not even need sex to fulfill that internal desire for you. Huh? What do I mean? I mean, you may be satisfied using your creative gifts for sexual gratification. Chances are with this placement, you are highly creative and charismatic. You find sensual pleasure in being able to share your creative gifts with other people. Haven’t you heard of entertainers saying they had so much fun on stage, it was orgasmic? That’s where you come in.
Ironically, I don’t naturally find this placement to be the most sexual. Don’t get me wrong, you are DOWN DIGGITY for a good time, but you really use sex as an ego booster. You may even be quite lazy in the bedroom. You could easily live by the code “my present is my presence” and be a dazzling pillow princess. This isn’t a bad thing, and it definitely doesn’t have to be the case all the time! When you’re turned on, you’re turned on, but when you’re just casually engaging in sex, or are in a long-term commitment, you may feel like sex is something that is owed to you. Not in a weird entitled way, but more like a Queen sitting on a chaise lounge being fed grapes– like, “duh, you should have sex with me, I’m beautiful”, type energy. This, if you haven’t been able to guess already, can lead to a selfish attitude in the love-making department. You must remember that sometimes, your partner wants to be catered to as well. That being said, you won’t shy away from Valentine’s Day. You are the type to go all out! You’ll put on the lingerie. You’ll lay out the rose petals on the bed. You’ll pay extra for that honeymoon suite. OR, you will expect your partner to do all of this without you asking. You treat holidays and sex as if it’s a royal affair.
Due to your standards being so high, I cannot express to you enough that you may really put all your sexual energy into your creative pursuits until you find a lover of high-value and high sex drive. You love and somewhat need to feel desired in order to break down your walls. You don’t play hard to get– you ARE hard to get, so this may leave you with extended periods of non-sexual activities. You are more than willing to give up sexual pleasure for your own personal pursuits– in fact, you are more likely to do that if you have specific career goals.
You may be a tad bit surprised at my interpretation of Mars in Leo, perhaps you were assuming it would be a bit spicier, but I challenge you to look at your ruler, the Sun (yes, the actual burning ball of fire in the sky) . Not literally…well, you can, but make sure you wear sun-glasses. But in all seriousness, the Sun shines alone. The Sun is too hot to let anything near it, and it carries such a gravitational pull, that things simply orbit around it, but can never get too close. With Mars in Leo/5th House, you may find yourself in this position when it comes to your sexual nature. You attract a lot of people towards you, but they are unable to get too close, for fear they will burn up in your presence. Or, you shine so bright, you are forced to do it alone. Being the Sun and the center of the Universe is a hard job, but ultimately an isolating job. Your being, your creative gifts, your star power and the way you shine can cast such a shadow on those who dare come near you. It really can be one of the most challenging placements because you probably won’t understand why people can’t/don’t come near you. Again, you’re just soooo great, people can have an overwhelming and unrealistic ideal of what it will take to make you happy. It’s a double-edged sword. On one hand, it’s flattering, but on the other hand, you can suffer from being put so high up on a pedal stool that you never asked for!
One tip for you, is to keep your hair beautiful and lushes! People will be attracted to your wild side and want to bring that out of you. You can either really love having your hair pulled or be turned off by it because you spend so much time making it look perfect. Either way, your hair may be an essential part of foreplay for you and something that suitors may find undeniably sexy.
As long as you are mindful to share the spotlight from time to time and not always prioritizing your needs & your desires, you can be a remarkably loyal partner. Fierce is the word that comes to mind and you can be very fierce in the bedroom. (When you want to be.) You can outshine any of the competition. Most people truly can’t hold a candle to you when it comes to how committed you are in an intimate relationship. You are proud and you protect those that are around you and that you deem worthy. You have a royal air that surrounds you and it loudly and proudly screams `bow down bitches' when it's time to get down and dirty!
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Mars in Cancer or Mars in the 4th House
“Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain, you like your girls insane” Born to Die- Lana Del Rey
If you have Mars in Cancer or Mars in the 4th house, ironically, your sex language involves a knack of overwhelming emotional destruction. Dramatic, yes, yes, I know, but very true. Mars is VERY uncomfortable in the deep waters of Cancer/4H. Mars in the 4th House, in particular, is a naturally difficult placement because it sits in the House of happiness, as well as aspects the 7th House of partnership and the 11th House of friendship– making that native, uh, a little difficult to deal with. Why? Because your emotions can be so erratic and illogical, it can be difficult for people to understand what you want. Heck, you probably don’t understand what you want most of the time. I promise I’ll get to the good stuff, but keep in mind that this Mars placement is in detriment! (It’s exalted in Capricorn, the opposite sign.) So when it comes to your sexual language, you value such a deeply emotional commitment from your partner, you could constantly try to test them by pushing their emotional boundaries.
There is a mixture of pleasure and pain. You love an emotional outburst– this can be good and sexy, or bad and scary. Emotionally bonding make-up sex, is your cup of tea…ESPECIALLY if you are the one who caused the “break-up” in the first place. You truly enjoy engaging with your partner in a loving way, when you can, but because Mars is so unstable here, it can be hard for you to maintain emotional consistency within long-term relationships. You can find that your passions wax and wane for your partner. Sometimes, you just want to run into their arms and kiss them in the pouring rain, other times, you want them to LEAVE YOU DAFUQ ALONE. This can be quite jarring to your intimate partners, but also to yourself. I recommend embracing this quality and being as honest as possible! Instead of literally creating a sh*t storm in order to be left alone, just communicate to your partner that you need a little space from time to time. But also be willing to give your partner that same courtesy and grace if they ask for the same.
You can feel a need to wrap yourself up in your partner's desires. It may come from a genuine place, but because Mars is an aggressive planet, you may be quite aggressive in how you demonstrate your love to your partner because your deepest desire is to be able to emotionally control them. This can manifest in an extremely emotionally manipulative way through passive aggressiveness and just causing overall uneasiness within your dynamics and partnerships. One of the lovely sides about this particular placement, is when you mature, you can have an extremely high emotional I.Q. Because you are naturally very sensitive to your surroundings, you can literally sense the emotional and physical needs of your partner without them having to say a word. You can be so emotionally intune with your lovers, it can feel like telepathy if they need anything from you. You just know, y’know?
In the bedroom, you can go from one extreme to another. Sometimes you want to be dominant, and sometimes you want to be dominated. It is important for your lovers to be able to ride your waves and learn what is needed from them at any given moment. Again, Mars is all about conquest. So when Mars is in the 4H in particular, you want to be able to be the leader in your home, but you also want someone who can take the reins when necessary. Again, this can be a difficult balance to strike within your sexual relationships because people may not understand the method behind the madness, typically because there really isn’t a method…it’s just kind of madness AND THAT’S OKAY!
Because Mars is so uncomfortable here, it is imperative for you to be able to channel your energy in creative ways or you can fall victim to your own emotional tirades. You want a clear line of communication with anyone you are interested with and they absolutely need to have some emotional intelligence or else they will drown in your water. You don’t want to suffocate your lovers with so much emotional intensity, that you both are unable to remain somewhat grounded in the chaos. You of all people understand just how powerful emotions and sex can be together, so be careful to use it wisely!!! When done right, you can have anyone wrapped around your finger.
Mars in Gemini or Mars in the 3rd House
“Talk is cheap my darling, when you’re feeling right at home. I wanna make you move with confidence. I want to be with you alone” Talk is Cheap by Chet Faker
If you have Mars in Gemini or Mars in the 3rd House, then you are all about an intellectual connection when it comes to your sexual language. You want to catch viiibbbeezzz. You want to be razzle-dazzled with the lingo. You want someone hip, cool, in the know…because, well, you’re hip, cool & in the know, y’know? It’s only fitting that your partner be the same. You, of all placements, may truly crave “your other half”. And I know, I know, we live in a world now, where people are saying “you are a whole person and you’re looking for another whole person yadayadayada…”, but you’re a TWIN. You want to be able to connect with someone as if you share the same brain, the same thoughts, the same…everything. This isn’t to say that you’re not sexual…you just enjoy mental jousting for foreplay. Think of how beautiful the dance between two evenly matched fencing partners is– the ebb and flow of tension – playing both parts of the aggressor and the defender– gliding almost effortlessly with a weapon in hand. It’s like the tango…but with swords. That’s how you envision your love. Beautiful art, yet dangerous. You may not be the most sensual lover at first, but in time you will certainly warm up. Why? Because at the very least, you are a curious partner! You. Want. To. Explore. You may be the type of lover to want to try almost anything once. You want to be surprised. You don’t want your bedroom to be boring. You resent repetitiveness and you welcome new experiences. You may even fall into the “switch my wig, make ‘em feel like he cheating” category. You like to switch up your look, your style…sexual positions (lol). This can even translate into role play! (Especially teacher/student).
I cannot express to you enough how much learning from your partner turns you on. You love asking questions & consider getting to know someone a conquest. The more difficult the puzzle, the more you yearn to solve it and this type of stimulation oozes over into your sexual pleasure. You’re curious to know what your lover’s love. You can have an objective perception of sex, because you aren’t the most naturally emotional person, so you can look at the love making process as getting to know every nook and cranny of a partner’s body– learning what makes them tick & “ick”. You become more emotionally open with a partner, the more confident that you are that you know them. You like learning, but you don’t like unpleasant surprises. This may be counter intuitive, but I find that after you go through your “lemme try any & everything era”, you will genuinely enjoy one partner. It will make you feel secure and like you have that missing piece in life. You don’t come across as the most committal type, but when you do commit, you commit fr fr, you just need a certain level of freedom in life to continue to expand your horizons far past the mundane in life.
Another element you may add to your sexual reservoir is……drugs. “DON’T DO DRUGS, KIDS & STAY IN SCHOOL”...alright, there is my disclaimer. Now back to what I was saying, you may be curious to try mind-expanding drugs & smex. Because you can be so cerebral, drugs like ecstacy can help you actually feel your body. The tingle will start from your subconscious mind, and venture into your conscious body, possibly making love-making a more pleasurable experience. If this doesn’t interest you, don’t worry, no pressure! Just making a note that this placement is more likely to think outside of the box when it comes to making their sex lives thrilling and exciting! Not saying that vanilla sex is boring…just saying in general. You do you!
Overall, this is a curious placement. It’s a fun placement, but it can be an extremely flighty placement in the beginning. Don’t let your fear of getting stuck, stop you from finding a true partner that you can really see the world with. You can find that “other half”, that “twin soul” that really knows how to light a fire in you and warm your cold cold cold gemini heart. In your moments of passion, you will prefer to keep things fun and light. Only when someone truly captures your mind, can they capture your body and soul! SEXYYYYYY!!!!
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Mars in Taurus or Mars in the 2nd House
“People stop to ask me, how do you please your man? Take it from the black sheep baby, any way I can. Sometimes it’s with fire and sometimes, with ice…Just don’t get it twisted, his body’s gunna pay the price.”
- Rock My Boy’s Body by Joseph Stephens
If you have Mars in Taurus or Mars in the 2nd House your sexual language is about sensuality, sexuality, & seduction. You believe in making love an all encompassing experience and you will stop at nothing to make sure your partners have an all exclusive pass to your BO-DAY. IF it is earned. Because Taurus is naturally slow moving energy, you may be slow to open up. As I’ve studied astrology for years now…I’ve come to realize that Taurus energy is just as private and cautious and it’s opposite sign, Scorpio. If you have this placement, you feel the need to study your lovers and you wait and wait and wait and wait and wait before you make your move. But if you are able to wrap them in your warm embrace…you won’t want to let go and they won’t want you to either.
Like Leo, when it comes to your sexual language, you believe in putting on a show. But your show is subtle, quaint and slow burning. You will have the candles burning, the scented lotion and fresh out the shower smell, you will have the most luxurious sheets on the most comfortable mattress. You don’t believe in cutting corners when it comes to your comfort and whoever is lucky enough to wind up in your bed, simply gets to enjoy how you live your life. I could bet you have an impeccable taste in music and truly know how to set the tone when it comes to seduction. As stated before, you are able to create a world of pure pleasure for those you love and make them spell-bound to you, because chances are, they haven’t been able to match with a sexual partner who cares so much about the details of ALL 6 senses. (I’m including intuition because, y’know, I’m a tarot and an astrology girlie.) For example, I dated this guy with heavy taurus placements a few years ago. I very much remember and very much miss this awesome TV room that he made for himself. Instead of having a regular degular couch, he had a couch that was also a bed. It wasn’t a couch that converted into a bed….it was just a couch that had a bed in it…and massive 70 inch television mounted on the wall. When I TELL you, I wanted to marry that man because….UGH!!! I was so comfortable! I could melt into the floor when I was with him. And I have YET to be with anyone who has a room set up quite like that. The feeling has stayed with me long after we have been together. THAT is what I mean by the power of Mars in Taurus. It lingers when you’re done!
On the other side, you of all signs, can be extremely jealous and possessive over your sexual partners. You DO NOT LIKE TO SHARE. AT. ALL. The 2nd House is all about owning and possessions and you may take this mindset with you into your romantic relationships. To the right person and in a healthy way, this can be enduring and make your partner feel safe and secure in your presence. In turn, you also want to know that your partner is crazy about you and cares deeply about your well-being. Again, in a healthy dynamic, a little jealousy and possessivness isn’t bad. It can show that someone does have an interest in you and takes pride in the fact that they are able to claim you as their own. This is just something to be mindful of in this placement, because if underdeveloped, it can lead to issues of selfishness & strong resistance to allow your partner’s freedom. Of course this can bleed over into the bedroom as well. You don’t want to get so focused on your own comfort that you end up putting your partner into a routine that they no longer enjoy. Your favorite position may not be their favorite positive. It can feel like eating lobster every single day. Like, yeah, Lobster is great day 1, maybe even day 2, but by day 5….yuck. Depending on other placements in your chart, you may attract partners who are very much like you, in the sense they prefer routine, OR you may attract partners who are so wild and out of the box, it forces you out of your comfort zone. All I can do is say embrace whatever floats your boat.
There is no doubt that you are one of the most sexual, sensual and passionate lovers of the zodiac. Your innate knowledge of pleasure makes you an expert in the bedroom and you can be hard to beat. Although it may take you a while to warm up, either physically or emotionally, you eventually show your partners that it is absolutely worth the wait! Because you tend to be safe and secure in yourself (the 2nd house rules self esteem) you share that safety and extend your protection to those you love the most. Your sexual language is unforgettable. You know how to love someone head to toe! WOOOOO!!!
Mars in Aries or Mars in the 1st House
“Dollhouse, dressed up, perfect messed up, Torture me to sleep, paint the air I breathe. Fishbowl, chokehold, dirty water, I’m cold. Dirty as can be, have your way with me.” Dollhouse (with Lily Rose Depp) by The Weeknd
If you have Mars in Aries or Mars in the 1st House, your sexual language is intense & powerful. You have a way of pulling people into your orbit just by being your unapologetic self! The force is with you! Best believe! And people feel it. You get what you want and you want what you get and you have a way of luring in your prospective sexual partner by projecting your lust onto them– so much so they feel it when they walk by you. Much like your sister, the Mars ruled Scorpio, there is a carnal desire that surrounds you. It’s magnetic. It’s magnificent. And it’s very fleeting.
When it comes to your bedroom pleasures, you can be a pioneer of the “Wham! Bam! Thank you ma’am or…sir” (not as cute of a rhyme) mindset. You may have a habit of treating your lovers like conquest– wanting to overpower them and wrap them up in your passionate fantasies. You deeply enjoy power play in your sex life. Yes, you could easily be the dominant one in your relationships, BUT you could also seek refuge in being submissive to your partner. How? I know it seems contradictory. But chances are, with this placement (unless it’s in a water sign in your first house) you are more than likely the boss and the leader in your everyday life…so when it comes to sex, you may want to just “relax” and let your partner do all the hard work for once. If that’s the case, you may be a bit of a brat in the bedroom because you still like to challenge your partner for shizz & giggles, but you are certainly fun and definitely unforgettable.
Your sex language is raw and real. You don’t like to hold back your passion and you appreciate a partner who can match your enthusiasm in the bedroom. You love the runner chaser dynamic, and again, you can easily play both parts. You are strong and competitive and don’t like to lose the interest of your lovers, even though you can get bored pretty easily. You may prefer quickies over long drawn up love sessions, but that doesn’t mean you don’t like to indulge your sinuses from time to time– you’re just not one of the most lovey dovey of the zodiac and prefer loud, wild, hot, steamy sex opposed to soft caresses and whispers of sweet nothings. You may also be a person who uses sexy time to advance a certain agenda. You could use sex as a tool of manipulation to get what you want. That may seem extreme, but think about a stripper using her sensuality as a means to make money so she can pay her way through law school. THAT’S what I mean. Because you may not be so shy about your sex appeal, if used correctly, it can be your weapon of choice when it comes to getting what you want from someone.
Passion matters to you more than most. You would prefer a risky lover than a predictable one. You also may be a fan of the ole’ break up to make-up trope. Make-up sex is always better. And you don’t mind starting a fight in the streets, simply to uh…you know…end it….in the sheets…..if you catch my drift. You aren’t one for subtleties. You are probably one of the most straightforward and upfront people in the world and you may play shy, but once you allow a person to get to know you, you don’t hold anything back. Because you are a cardinal energy, you always have a childlike flair to you! You keep things interesting and youthful. You’re not afraid to cross boundaries and push the limits of yourself & your partner in the midst of a sexual act. You really may think that sex is something that can be “won”. You want to be the best. You want to be the one that lovers can’t get enough of. You don’t appreciate being compared to others and honestly hear partners talking about their past as if it was some sort of challenge. You definitely have a jealous and possessive streak, but like I always say, when this is a healed energy it can be enduring to the right partner. As long as it’s not obsessive and unhealthy, you can provide comfort to your lovers that you are there for them and only them. You expect loyalty in return, of course, but you don’t mind protecting and defending what you see as your own. Your love is real. Your love is honest. Your love is young and wild and free!
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palioom · 6 days
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not home
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summary: joel comes home and finds you asleep.
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
word count: 1.6k
warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n; established relationship; somnophilia; dirty talk; fingering; unprotected p in v; creampie; finger sucking; lowkey praise kink; no proofreading/beta lmao
IMPORTANT as tlou is made by a Zionist, as well as part 2 being based on the oppression of Palestine by Israel, I urge you to educate yourself in the light of the genocide happening in Palestine, specifically Gaza, right now. I cannot in good conscience post for Joel without bringing awareness to the horrific things that have been going on for 7 months.
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follow @palioomfics & turn on notifs for future updates
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It was late when Joel came back.
Not home, just back. Home had been lost long ago, so long that he barely remembered it sometimes.
Funny how one could live in a place for so long and then it just faded away. He could remember some of the layout, but he swore that something was off about the way the living room looked in his mind.
No, this was just a shoddy apartment in the Boston QZ, with shitty hallways,creaking floorboards, paint peeling off the walls. Air howling through the tiny cracks, it was always cold somehow, but in summer too hot.
The door squeaked when he opened it and he really wanted to slam it shut behind him. Stupid thing would probably fly off the hinges if he did.
Try getting a door in the QZ.
He had more luck making one himself.
So he didn’t, opting to close it quietly instead, locking it behind him.
What a shitty fucking night this has been. Trying to smuggle shit out of the zone and then almost getting mauled by a bunch of clickers, adrenaline was still pumping through him along with anger.
Seething because he had lost a good amount of pills, some other good shit he could have traded for marks or cigarettes with the FEDRA officers.
Joel wanted to scream, throwing his backpack down onto the kitchen chair, then walking over to the cabinets. But he didn’t, instead pouring himself some of the shitty bourbon that they kept stashed away.
Sometimes he still wondered how she had managed to get this, looking over at her, peacefully sleeping in their bed.
If that’s what one could call it, a mattress propped up on some bricks, worn out pillows and ratty sheets.
Turned away from him on her stomach, the thin fabric of the blanket loosely draped over her legs, her ass only covered by her underwear.
Sometimes he wondered how she could sleep in so little, while he was always ready to go, ready to leave if anything happened.
Not that he minded, the sight was enough to make his dick twitch in his jeans, just watching her sleeping form, breathing in and out.
He knocked back another gulp, hissing at the weak sting.
Yeah, it was pretty shitty compared to the real thing, or whatever he remembered from it, but she had found a good bottle nonetheless.
The really good ones were hard to come by these days.
Just like people.
Fuck, she looked pretty like this, sprawled out over the whole bed because he wasn’t there, and he couldn’t even see her face.
Soft in her sleep, so rare in a world where softness did not survive for long.
Trying to be tough when awake, fooling everyone but him.
Joel knew her too well, some things he had never wanted to know, things about her past.
Things that made sense and intrigued him in a way, sometimes meaningless shit, like what shows she used to watch, what she had for dinner most days.
But it distracted him, as much as it annoyed him sometimes, it gave him a break from this fucked up world where all was about survival and nothing about just living.
So pretty.
Her body gave him a break as well, settling down the glass and the bottle, footsteps heavy as he walked over to their bed, knowing she wouldn’t wake up.
Could sleep through a damn tornado if she wanted to.
He took his boots off, the only thing she made him take off when he came to bed, insisting she would make him sleep on the sofa otherwise.
Anything but that, his back hurting just at the thought of that shitty, worn out thing.
Crawling into bed, he pressed himself close to her, chest against her back, heavy on top of her smaller frame.
Joel’s lips found her exposed shoulder, only wearing a ratty tank top, too hot in this little apartment. It was the only thing that kept her from sleeping most days, that unbearable heat.
His calloused fingers travelled over her arm, half under her pillow, then back up and over her side. Sliding between her body and the mattress, grabbing her breast, his hips grinding into her ass.
She sighed in her sleep, brows furrowing together for a moment, mumbling something.
Fuck, he needed her. Knew she wouldn’t mind, this was far from the first time where he came home all tense and tried to let go a little while buried inside of her.
“Fucking pretty, darlin’.” He whispered against her shoulder, his hand continuing down, finding the meat of her ass and kneading it, making her shift just a little.
She looked so sweet like this, her sleepy sounds adorable.
“Gonna see if you’re wet for me, baby.” He said, fingers pushing her underwear to the side and delving between her folds, finding her wet but not wet enough.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart, gonna get you nice and ready for me.”
He moved back from her just long enough to pull down her underwear, throwing it somewhere behind him. Then, he was flush against her, his fingers coming up to her lips.
Pushing into her mouth, past her teeth, she took him in, actually sucking on them for a moment, making him groan.
He moved them in and out of her mouth, pressing down onto her tongue, massaging it.
“‘Atta girl, get them nice and wet, what a good girl.” He whispered, kissing her shoulder as he watched, his dick twitching and rock hard in his jeans as he rutted against her ass. “Doin’ so well.”
Joel didn’t know if she could hear him, but sometimes he was sure that she got wetter from how he talked even when she was fast asleep.
When they were wet enough, he pulled them from her mouth, leaving her lips slightly parted before he moved down, finding her clit.
Her hips jerked up into his dick when he touched her, rubbing a few lazy circles into it, spreading the wetness there before her found her entrance, carefully easing the two fingers inside.
A breathy sigh left her, brows furrowed again as she clenched around him, already pressing in and out of her at a steady pace, feeling more wetness coat him.
“Just like that, squeeze them nice and tight, gotta get you ready for me, sweetheart.”
Curling them, he pressed against the spongy spot inside of her, hearing the softest moan spill over her lips, stirring just a little.
Pumping in and out, scissoring his thick fingers to stretch her open, he soon pulled out again, getting desperate and just needing her around him.
He sucked his fingers clean before rolling away from her, opening his belt as quietly as he could, then the button and zipper of his jeans. Pushing them down just far enough to take his aching cock out, grunting when he was back on her, the tip of him pressed against her entrance.
Hand finding her leg, he angled her just a little differently, making it easier for him to push into her, groaning softly against her shoulder.
Feeling her tight, wet pussy pull him in deeper, all the way until he bottomed out, broad hand over her hip.
She opened her eyes now, just a little, trying to make sense of what was happening, sleep gripping her tight.
“Joel?” Voice hoarse, cracking as he stilled.
“Shh, sweetheart, go back to sleep.” He said, leaning over to kiss her cheek, watching her close her eyes again. “I’ll take care of you.”
She mumbled something, gone again, only whimpering quietly when he pulled back and sank into her again.
His hand found her breast again, squeezing and groping as he began to pound into her, slow at first, but gradually picking up speed as he lost his patience. Her sweet sounds fuelling him, whining more as he kept pinching and rolling her hard nipple, her hips weakly pushing back into him.
“Pretty girl, always giving me your little pussy. Always so good to me.” He rambled, biting her neck softly. “So good for me, fuck, sweetheart.”
So close, her body so warm and soft, her pussy squelching around him.
Sometimes he wondered if the neighbours could hear it through the open window. Her soft mewls, her sweet, wet pussy as he pounded into it.
They could definitely hear when he fucked her deep into the mattress, hear her scream his name until her voice broke.
He hoped they did, letting everyone know she was his, asleep or not.
Joel could feel her squeeze around him, his hand moving from her breast to her clit, pressing into it with rough movements.
Pushing her over, a sharp gasp and the way her walls pulsed around him, coating his cock with her slick letting him know. Eyes opening again, whining and screwing them shut at the sudden assault of pleasure, mind hazy and too damn tired.
“Sleep, baby. It’s alright.” He shushed her again, groaning, forehead against her shoulder. “Go back to sleep.”
“Joel-”
That did him in, the way she whined his name, needy and sleepy, emptying himself inside of her with a deep groan.
“Shit, darlin’. Always so good.”
Joel watched her face, drifting in and out of consciousness, sleep tugging at her and pulling her under.
“‘Atta girl, baby.” He kissed her cheek, wrapping his arm around her waist.
Not pulling out of her, he manoeuvred them on their sides, her back flush against his chest, his nose buried in her hair.
Just catching his breath and feeling her.
She could make any night better, her soft body letting him forget momentarily about just how badly that trip had gone.
But he was just glad to be home.
Not home.
But the closest thing he had to it now, in bed with her.
Buried inside her.
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bby-deerling · 4 months
Text
cream (ace x reader nsfw)
ace helps you warm up :^) inspired by the prince song
18+, nsfw, mdni, wc: 1.8k masterlist
cw: afab!fem!reader, cowgirl, temperature play kinda, ace is a lil tease, semi-public-ish sex, creampie, spit as lube
tagging: @discodreaming @eelnoise
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The unforgiving chill of the desert night was seeping into your bones, leaving you shaking and clenching your teeth so hard you couldn’t bear the pain any longer.  Nami had greedily yanked away your blanket in her sleep, and you didn’t want to bother or wake Vivi, leaving you no choice but to wander outside of your tent and see if the campfire was enough to warm your nearly numb body—if it was even still lit.
Peeking out of your tent, you see the flames are smaller than before, but still capable of giving you some heat and comfort.  Gingerly, you step towards the fire, keeping your steps light to avoid waking any of the boys up, who had fallen asleep in a pile on top of each other; before you reach your destination, a husky voice cuts through the air and makes you jump.
“Can’t sleep?”  Ace asks you, sitting on the ground leaning against the tent; as you turn to face him, you admire his tired and playful smirk, soaking in as much of him as you can without making your fascination with him too glaringly obvious.
You shake your head, returning his grin with a sleepy smile of your own.  “Too cold, ‘m trying to warm up.” you explain, motioning towards the slowly dying fire.  He nods, and eyes you up and down for a moment before opening his robe, exposing his deliciously sculpted chest and abs, and motioning for you to come closer.
“Are you serious?” you whisper, flustered and blushing at his invitation.  His smirk turns into a wolfish grin, and he nods.  The remnants of the fire’s warm orange light dance across his face, illuminating the wild and free-spirited nature radiating from his presence.
“C’mere, I’ll keep you warm.” he insists, gently tugging your wrist.  Yielding to his touch, you allow him to pull you down and into his arms; closing his robe around you, your back is flush against his chest.  A blush creeps into your cheeks as the abnormal heat of his skin leaves burning tingles through your fingers and toes, his embrace allowing you to finally relax your spine.
“That feel alright for you?” he asks softly, carefully warming his body with his devil fruit to make sure you were comfortable enough—he wanted you heated up and snug in his arms, but not sweating too much yet.
“Mhmmm…feels good.” you whisper contently, allowing yourself to nuzzle closer into his touch; the cozy, enticing feeling of drowning in Ace’s warmth makes any possible reservations about the embrace dissipate into the chilly desert wind.
“You like it hot, don’t ya’?” he teases, lips dangerously close to the shell of your ear.  Tresses of long, slick, black hair ghost over the sides of your neck, tickling the sensitive skin and sending your mind abuzz at the sensation of being so close to him.  “My kind of girl.”
His words leave you a flustered, blushing mess, unable to form a coherent response besides a content giggle—the way his charms are leaving you smitten is cute, and he makes sure you know it.
“It’s a shame I can’t stick around longer, I’d like to get to know ya’ better, you’re a real sweetheart.” he says, words hushed and rumbling through your ears, bringing a bright flush to your cheeks.  “My little brother is lucky to have you around to look after him and keep him out of trouble.”  His neck cranes around the side of your head and slightly chapped lips gently press against your temple, roughened and weathered from the harsh desert sun.
“Don’t let me fool you, we get into a bunch of trouble together too—we’re too silly for our own good.” you say softly, trying to control the way your body is reacting to his intimate gestures; you’re failing, breathing turning shaky as you feel the nearly phantom touch of his lips ghosting along the apple of your cheek.  Hesitant to read too deeply into a bit of cheeky flirting, you tell yourself that he’s just being sweet—nothing more; however, the way his head is nestled into the crook of your neck, gentle smile radiating into your skin, overwhelms your senses and makes your heart flutter.
“I like that about ya’ too.  You’re a fun little ball of sunshine.” he murmurs, pressing soft kisses into your collarbone as he squeezes you tighter.  Nuzzling into his touch, he chuckles quietly as his warm, heated fingers start to roam, tracing lines up and down your arms first, before moving to grip your waist.  “Plus, you’re filthy cute—but you know that, don’t you?” he whispers, teasingly; the husky timbre of his voice leaves you craving more.  His tattooed arm loops around your waist, while the other dips downward along your lower torso; his motions are slow but intentional as he squeezes a handful of your plush thigh and drags his fingers upward, grinning at the way you sigh in frustration when he pulls his hand away.
“Better move this to my tent before I can’t help myself and give it to you out here.” he whispers, hooking an arm around your legs, lifting you effortlessly, and pulling you into his small tent nearby, slightly further away from the others.  Two harsh pulls of a zipper cut through the crisp air—the first is the closure of the tent that wraps the two of you in a blanket of privacy; the second is him fiddling with the fly of his pants as he hastily tries to get them off with one hand.  The other is threaded through your hair, dying to feel as much of you as he could at once.  Tongues twirling together and breathy moans reverberating against each other’s mouths, you’re both starving—for touch, for intimacy, and for the heated, tantalizing way your lips slide against each other.
A lewd smack echoes on the canvas walls of the tent as your lips reluctantly pull apart, a string of saliva keeping you tethered together.  “Get on top for me, baby.” he murmurs, shimmying out of his long cargo shorts that were already halfway off and sitting down beside you.  Eyes glimmering with lust, you pounce at the opportunity and shed your own layers of clothing; Ace watches you, mesmerized, and spits in his hand as he strokes himself to your naked form. 
His free hand reaches out to gently grip your waist and pulls you towards him.  Breath hitching as you straddle him and drag the head of his cock along your folds, he resists the urge to succumb to his impatience and push himself into you all at once—imagining the sharp cry you’d let out as he fills you up makes his cock twitch against you.  Instead, he holds out as you sink onto him, pupils blown out as he watches your walls envelop him; you’re gorgeous as you take him in, back arching, head thrown back and eyes closed as you try to control your breathing as you adjust to his length.
Palms hot as they grip your hips, he grinds your hips against his, guiding you towards finding the right way to drag your clit against him as you ride.  Smoothly settling into a rhythm, you find the right set of movements that makes your head dizzy and leaves you breathless; Ace’s hands start to roam upward, splaying across your breasts and drowning you in tantalizing warmth as his thumbs softly circle your nipples.
“Right there…” he says, voice husky and dripping with lust as he watches you dip into a state of hazy pleasure and delirium, “Get yourself off for me.”  Sloppy, wet sounds intensify with each rock of your hips, swiftly building towards your climax.  Tingles and pins and needles spread through your body as you get close, flush rushing towards your cheeks as your hips snap desperately against him.  Face buried in his neck, you whimper and gasp, choking back more the intense and incriminating sounds that are clawing at your throat.  Locks of his hair find themselves sticking to the side of your face—slightly greasy, damp with sweat, and scented with ash and soot, you can’t help but inhale sharply to take more of him into your lungs.
“Ace, ‘m so close…” you sigh, heat pooling in your cheeks as your words trail off into a strangled gasp.  One of his hands trails down your side and rocks your hips closer into him, giving you the friction you need to make the tightly wound coil snap; mind buzzing and blank, your walls clamp around him as a chorus of lewd sounds fall off your lips.  Ace gives you no mercy, continuing to grind your hips against his through your orgasm, intent on stretching it out as long as possible.
“That’s right baby, cream all over my cock…” he whispers in your ear before biting down on your neck and sucking softly, earning him a moan from you in response. 
Relentless as he gives it to you, his grip on you is firm as he takes control, grasping your hips and bouncing you along his cock.  Still limp and twitching from your high, you’re like a ragdoll in his hands as he fills you up with a punishing pace, unable to do anything but whine and beg for him to give you even more.
“Such a good girl, you take me so well…” he growls, his previous smirks and grins replaced with unwavering and intense focus as he drags your soaked pussy along his length.  Tight and warmer than he could ever dream of, he hopes you’re feeling just a fraction of the flames coursing through his veins as he pounds you so hard that you start grabbing and scratching at his back, babbling nonsense into his collarbone.
And perhaps you feel it even more; your whole body is on fire as his thrusts grow even faster still, and you feel his thighs tense.  As he spills into you, his cum is hot, creamy, and leaves you sighing with pleasure as you feel it mix with the sticky pool of arousal that had completely coated both of your thighs.  Panting and out of breath, he stares at you, eyes half-lidded as he catches his breath; as he regains his senses and his beating heart begins to slow, he pulls you in for a deep kiss as he pulls out of you.
“That warm you up enough?” he asks cheekily as he reaches for a towel out of his bag to clean you up with.
“Might still need to be held a bit, ‘m not ready to brave the cold alone just yet.” you reply with a hopeful grin as you watch him slip into his sleeping bag and pull a blanket on top.
“Good—‘m not ready to let you go yet either.” he says with a smirk, pulling you close against him underneath the covers.
1K notes · View notes
alavestineneas · 5 months
Text
Losing dogs
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pairing: young!coriolanussnow x fem!reader
summary: His golden prize, his future wife, was now bound to him by the ring on her finger. Of all of his investments, this one had the potential to yield the greatest return. warnings: not really canon-compliant, mentions of minor violence, blood and shitty relationships word count: 4k
Part 2 is here!
author's note: remember kids, manipulators and sick bastards are only hot in fiction - don't do them (and drugs) in real life!
The polished toes of his new shoes reflected everything in the grand hall—they caught glimmers of lamps adorned with gold, colourful drapes on the enormous windows, and the kaleidoscopic dresses of women around. The chatter filled the room, almost too loud to hear the music—not that he would enjoy it either. Some things require focus.
''Mister Fabius, Missis Fabius.''
Corialanus's face melts into a smile-like expression at the sight of the older couple.
They look like lice in the large building—rich lice, that is. The golden and platinum rings on Missis Fabius's fingers shine with every gemstone known to man, mirroring the bright lights. The jewels look ugly on the wrinkly hand, he notes. What a waste.
''Mister Snow, what a surprise! I was just telling Livia of your prodigious success in your new position. Incredible work, Mr. Snow; simply incredible! ''
The man's face radiated with excitement, getting closer in shade to his burgundy tie. The gold threats on it piqued more interest for Mister Snow than the words of the old man—after all, it's not every day you meet such luxury in person.
The man's wife, however, seemed less enthusiastic; her cold, bored gaze circled him up and down, stopping only after getting the satisfaction of an undoubtedly unpleasant conclusion. 
Coriolanus mentally went over his outfit, hairstyle, and anything else she might have noticed. Nothing was out of place; the holes in his coat were a thing of the past. Still, it was something—that thought found its place in his brain, drilling a small hole in its way. 
''When will we know of your decision, Mister Snow? We gave you time—a lot of time.''
''This evening, Mrs. Fabius. After the play, I promise to give you my answer tonight.''
He has to look first. What fool buys a horse blind? Sure, the horse came with immense fortunes and, most importantly, connections, but still. He couldn't afford to make a hasty decision, especially when the stakes were so high. After all, he was one of the most desirable bachelors; Fabiuses had to thank him for even considering the offer.
''There is no agreement until tomorrow, Mister Snow. We will have you for breakfast at nine o'clock sharp,'' Mr Fabius said, placing a hand on his wife's back and leading her towards the entrance. They could afford not to make one's adieu.
The opera was popular among the richest; all of the seats were taken. He would have lied if he said the golden rails and red velvet didn't make him feel a bit out of place. Nobody paid him any attention, although this time it didn't hurt him as much as usual. He could hide in the shadows of his box seat without being concerned about making an impression.
Not the stage, of course. It was the least of his worries, although he did pay a high price for a ticket. No, he looked at her. 
The golden gown on her was a shimmering masterpiece. Layers and layers of the most expensive fabric covered her body like soft waves, crashing down at the round neckline with their gilded ends. She wore diamond earrings, just like her mother did, although they suited her better. 
Coriolanus remembered her from the academy; she always sat near the window, gazing out at the world with a longing in her eyes. She wasn't a very bright student but rather a dutiful one. always on time, always prepared with her assignments, and always eager to please her teachers. The heiress to the jewellery empire. The flower of the elite social scene. Her presence attracted attention, yet she seamlessly blended into the background, never stealing the spotlight. YN Fabius was everything he needed her to be—a picture, but never a spectacle. 
-
The manor was grand and opulent, showing the wealth and status of the Fabius family. Its sprawling gardens and delicate architecture were a testament to its esteemed position in society. Collums, paintings, and endless staircases stood as if frozen in time. It was as if there was no war just a decade ago. 
''Mister Snow,'' the butler called out, his voice echoing through the grand foyer. ''Breakfast is served in the blue dining hall; if you would please follow me.''
Thousands and thousands of steps and passages lined the walls, leading to various wings and chambers of the mansion. It was warm, even during the cold autumn season. Only keeping the fireplaces always lit must cost a fortune.
When they finally reached the needed room, Coriolanus was slightly out of breath. The blue walls reached the high ceiling, painted with pictures of half-naked gods and goddesses frolicking in fields of flowers. It created the illusion of a smell wafting through the air as if the vibrant colours had come to life. 
The table was served for four, not three, suggesting that someone else was expected to join them. The silverware gleamed under the soft rays of sunshine, casting a shimmering glow across the room—pure silver, nothing less. 
The door behind him opened with a gentle creak, revealing Mr. Fabiuse's humble figure. His simple, at first glance, shirt was another of the perfectly constructed illusions—Coriolanus knew the fabrics like the back of his hand. The shirt, though seemingly plain, was made from the finest Egyptian cotton, woven with intricate patterns. 
''Mister Snow, how good that you came on time. Excuse my ladies, the girls are such girls at every age. Take so long to get ready,'' he laughs. ''Please, take a seat," Mr. Fabius said, gesturing towards a plush chair covered in velvet. 
''There is no point in all of those paints once you hit sixty,'' Mrs.Fabius said, appearing right behind her husband. She circled the table before taking a seat herself, her eyes glancing disapprovingly at the young man. "Let's begin before the food grows cold," she added with a sigh, her tone tinged with resignation. 
''Of course,'' Mr. Fabius nodded, lifting the lid on the first dish. The aroma of it filled the room, and Coriolanus couldn't help but feel his hunger grow. He didn't have the habit of eating so much in the morning—another thing he needs to adjust about his routine. 
When Mr.Fabius finally placed the fork down, Coriolanus knew it was time. ''Thank you for the invitation, Mr. Fabius. I must say, I thought a lot about your proposal, and after careful consideration, I have decided to accept it.''
''Good.'' Mrs. Fabius answered instead, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. "I'm glad to hear that, Coriolanus. I believe this union will bring great delights to both of us." 
Mr. Fabius seemed not to notice the interruption. ''I think a winter wedding would be absolutely perfect. Everybody seems to be getting married in the spring, but in the winter? Oh, it's definitely going to be a hit. Ah, and here's the lucky bride-to-be!''
She stood beside the just-opened door, her eyes following his expressions. Her hands, adorned just with one small pearl ring, were gently clasped together in front of her. She looked nervous, like a child standing in front of the full class on the first school day. Her dress, a delicate lace creation, clings to her figure like a second skin. 
He smiled at her. YN looked like an antique statue, as if she just stepped out of the ruins of the Panem. Coriolanus wasn't even sure she was breathing—her stillness was so deep. 
''Let's leave the lover birds to chirp,'' Mrs.Fabius said, standing up. She walked towards the couple, her heels clicking against the floor, and extended her hand towards YN. "Congratulations, my dear," she said with a warm smile before leaving, her husband following after her.
''It's time for a ring, isn't it?'' Coriolanus cleared his throat. Everything is to be done appropriately; there is no reason to avoid traditions. He reached into the pocket of his suit and pulled out a small box. White, of course—who is he, if not a romantic at heart?
''Mr. Snow,'' YN watched him stand up and come closer with the same expression she always bore—a mixture of melancholy and worship. ''Grant me something.''
He paused. Coriolanus didn't like to make promises. He would have to make it clear to her later, after the wedding—the fact that he took her for a bride was enough of a promise. Still, he needed this engagement to work, and he was not about to lose it to a crude lie. With a sigh, he softly replied, "What is it that you desire, Miss YN?"
''Promise me you will be kind to me. All of our marriage, promise to be kind to my heart.''
Coriolanus almost laughed in her face. Oh, what a lovely, clueless fool. "I will do my best to treat you with kindness, Miss YN."
''Good,'' she smiles. ''I think we will make a great couple then, Mister Snow.''
''Coriolanus, my dear. Please call me Coriolanus." 
He couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance. It was sealed. His golden prize, his future wife, was now bound to him by the ring on her finger. Of all of his investments, this one had the potential to yield the greatest return.
-
Mr.Fabius didn't lie—his daughter was the perfect bride. She never spoke to him unless he did first; she never questioned him. She simply followed his lead, like a well-trained pet. A pretty, lovely YN. She knew what to do, how to dress, and what to say. He searched for one—at least a slight imperfection—and couldn't find one; it was as if she wasn't a human, which, to him, she wasn't.
''What are you going to do today?'' he asks, without bothering to look up from the newspaper. He doesn't wish to hear her answer, but he still asks out of courtesy. Coriolanus knows that her daily routine is made up of attending charity events, dinners with influential figures's wives, and shopping for designer clothes. It's a predictable pattern.
''Well, the trees I ordered came in today; I'll have to chat with the new gardener about them. Are you meeting with anyone important later?" 
''As a matter of fact, I do. Larry Tremblay wants to include me in a business deal he's been working on." 
It's partly true, but she doesn't need to know more. Just a familiar name was usually enough for his wife to hum in satisfaction and assume that he was still climbing the social ladder. Not this time, evidently.
''You shouldn't accept.''
He looked up from his cup, trying to guess if she had gone out of her mind. YN looked like usual, her eyes meeting his without a care in the world. Why today, of all days, she decided to question his decision was beyond him. He cleared his throat, attempting to maintain his composure. "And why should I decline such a good-looking opportunity?" 
''He beats his wife. Just yesterday, I saw her with bruises. ''
Coriolanus fought hard to keep a smile from forming on his lips. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, feigning indifference. He knew his wife wasn't the brightest, but this? "Is that so?" 
''Don't you understand what it means? The man only beats his wife for two reasons. If he has always enjoyed those types of things, which Larry did not, or if he loses power and control in other aspects of his life. The business isn't going as well as he wants it to,'' YN lowers her gaze, losing confidence in her voice. ''I thought you would want to know that.''
He would, very much. Her conclusion was the dumbest thing he ever heard, based on some black and blue marks and a twist of her imagination. Still, it was interesting—his wife's head wasn't always empty like he hoped. She thought enough to notice something, and she listened enough to remember his partners. 
''I will keep that in mind,'' he replied, his tone tinged with a hint of annoyance. What harm could it do to entertain her thoughts? It was even slightly amusing to see her try to piece together a puzzle that didn't exist. 
-
It wasn't so fun anymore when Larry Tremblay was fired exactly two weeks later. Surely, it could be a consequence, but Coriolanus Snow didn't believe in them. There had to be something, anything, to explain his wife's sudden knowledge—she couldn't have acquired it on her own, about that he was sure.
YN looked unfazed by his questioning gaze as she lay on the dark olive-coloured sofa in his office, continuing to play with a snow-white kitten on her stomach. It was his wedding gift, one of many—the pricy creature with a diamond collar. He thought it was rather symbolic—two caged animals who were once considered sacred.
''How did you understand that Tremblay was about to be fired?'' Coriolanus asked, his voice laced with suspicion. It could be that she overheard the woman talk about it, or even that she had some inside information from her connections. What bothered him more was what she could know from the same source about him.
YN paused, her fingers gently stroking the kitten's fur as she met his gaze. "I didn't know that. I simply knew he had trouble at work. Evidently, they were big enough for him to lose his position." 
''Really?'' he chuckled. Maybe she was telling the truth. ''Then, what can you say about my work?''
YN's eyes narrowed slightly. "Your work doesn't matter; how you present yourself does. Can I give you some advice?'
 "Sure.'' Coriolanus bit his tongue, fighting the urge to snap back at her. After all, it is what he married her for—to fit in. He took a deep breath.
''Buy a new car, but not the most expensive one; it will give off an impression of stability, like you know the job isn't going anywhere. Your shoes are always too polished; it's like you wore them right out of the box. And throw away that hideous tie you always wear—you look like a student." 
''Something else?'' Coriolanus mustered a weak smile, trying to hide his frustration. 
''I don't want to offend you, Coriolanus. But I want you to do well. After all, you are my husband now, and your success reflects on both of us. Why not help where I can? You know I love clothes.''
''Good, '' he replied, forcing a more genuine smile. "Now get away from that cat before it scratches you. I'll figure out the rest on my own." 
''Of course you will. You are the smartest man I've ever met.''
-
He was. It was because of his intelligence that YN married him, because of his ambition. Well, that and something else. 
From her earliest childhood, YN knew what she was destined to be. She was the child of late parents, the only child, and a girl; she would inherit everything the generations of her family worked so hard to achieve. And YN was no fool; she needed a man. Driven, proud, and cold-blooded. The one who was not afraid to get his hands dirty while she spent her time leisurely in his shadow. Oh, no—YN never minded her place, much like her mother did. She taught her to bet on the finest horses, and Coriolanus Snow was no exception. 
From the time she saw him in his ridiculously tight shirt in the academy, she knew what she wanted. Him. The top of every class, the charmer with pretty eyes—a catch, really. Her mother said there was darkness inside her dear Coriolanus, but YN knew. That's why she now sits in the opulent living room, waiting for him to get home. Mr. Snow was a horrific, ruthless man. But he was still, at his core, a man. 
And men never listen. That's how she got him and got him good—a silent, fawn-eyed creature that he thought he could control. An obedient wife and a lovely lap dog. It was funny to see his gaze twitch slightly when she said something she wasn't supposed to—how long would it take him to figure it out? 
It's time—his tall figure appeared in the corridor leading to the living room. YN watches silently as he takes off his shoes and coat, placing them on the rack by the door. Home at seven p.m. sharp, just like any other day. Just like any other day, dinner is at the table. 
He never said thank you. Instead, her closet grew bigger with countless dresses, bags, and shoes—sometimes even brand-new jewellery. YN didn't mind it; she loved it—the jealous whispers of other women at the events about how lucky she was. She didn't have to sleep with a big, fat old man to get the latest fur coat or the most exquisite diamond necklace.
At least a few times a month now, Coriolanus would wake up in the middle of the night, screaming. This night was one of those: YN woke up from the constant turning and tossing in the bed. She doesn't know how he didn't figure out why; it was easy to guess his food contained something to make his sleep far worse—YN made sure of that. Maybe he just didn't have the heart to admit his weaknesses, even to himself.
''Hey,'' she whispered, getting out of the warm covers. YN tiptoed over to Coriolanus' side of the bed, careful not to bump into anything in the dark. ''Hey, wake up. Are you okay?" she asked, gently shaking him awake. 
Coriolanus jolted upright, his eyes wide with fear as he gasped for breath. He wasn't; of course, he wasn't. Yn would have lied if she said she didn't find it hot to see him like this—sweat glistening on his forehead, his chest heaving. 
''You were having a nightmare again.''
He looked at her with the eyes of a lunatic, still not over his dream. ''What did I say this time?"
''You were mumbling something about birds and songs, I think? It didn't make much sense." 
He doesn't recall that she mentored the 10th game too. Without much success, of course, but one thing she did remember was a girl from District 12 who liked to sing. Coriolanus remembered her too; it was evident from the fear that crossed his eyes.
''Excuse me,'' he said, his voice still shaky. ''I need a moment.''
YN watched as he stumbled towards the bathroom, his hands twitching. As much as her husband wanted to hide those parts of himself, he couldn't. Not from her. 
There was nothing else to do but wait. YN climbed on the bed, turning her back to the bathroom door. Coriolanus would only come out when he thought she had fallen asleep. She learned to control her breath when she was just a little girl; it saved her life once, when a rebel pointed a gun at her small frame, meaning to shoot. He didn't—what use was it to waste a bullet on a non-breathing child?
Surely, after some time, the blonde man stepped out of the bathroom. For a few minutes, he listened to her steady breathing before sliding under the covers and pressing his body against hers, his large hand covering her shoulders. Coriolanus wasn't gentle; YN wasn't sure he knew what the word meant anyway, but he was careful. His arm around her chest wasn't tight—just enough for him to bring her closer.
As much as YN wanted to turn around and face him, she didn't. There was no point—like any other human, he hated the feeling of vulnerability. Instead, YN focused on the warmth of his body. Coriolanus Snow was a god more than a human, and real gods were never kind. The only currency they recognized was blood.
-
The annual party for the victor of this year's games. The first year Coriolanus Snow worked as a head gamemaker, his creation was a bloodbath, a spectacle of violence and despair. He did a good job—an excellent one, even—and one of the greatest stars of today's celebration was him.
They needed to dress the part in clothes that exuded power. And so they did. Coriolanus's suit was ample—purple velvet with gold embroidery—the colour of Roman emperors. The colour of the winners. The suit hugged his broad shoulders perfectly, suiting his white hair. Gold cufflinks, gold rings—he looked like a sovereign among men. It was risky to do so right in front of the current president, but who was Coriolanus Snow if he was not confident in his success? 
YN wore the gown from the matching collection, a floor-length masterpiece. The deep purple colour was a stark contrast to her skin tone. And jewellery, of course—she came from the Fabius family for a reason. The lavender diamonds on her necklace and earrings. They were rare—the rarest—even. Only a few violet diamonds have been mined in the past seventy years.
It was all anyone talked about behind their backs. Whispers, rumours, and so much venom dripped from the mouths of Panem's elite—that's what they were hoping for, anyway. The Snows were just as shamelessly rich as they were powerful. 
That's why they now sat at the President's table, just a few faces away from them. Coriolanus smiled to himself - not even the President's wife could compare to YN. Not in fashion, not in elegance. He had an impeccable taste - even a person far away from politics could see that.
''A toast!'' the President stood up with a glass in his hand, turning to face the Coriolanus. ''I am sure many of you know who was the mastermind behind the games this year - it's my pleasure to introduce Coriolanus Snow to those of you who don't. However, not many know his story of success. From a dirt-poor background, when his greatest possession was his family name, he worked hard to achieve the position he holds today. Let us raise our glasses and celebrate his remarkable journey to success and the country of Panem - the land of opportunity!''
YN cursed under her breath as she listened to the crowd cheer for her husband. He remained stoic - the only thing that gave away his fury was his eyes - they grew as dark as the sky outside. She didn't bother to calm him - this fire was impossible to put out. The President made a fatal mistake with his speech - she knows. But the true fear crept into her heart when she saw the President's wife pass Coriolanus the dish. 
Cabbage.
Under a fancy sauce, it could be transformed into a delicacy fit for their circle. But tonight, it was his last straw. The colours changed on the face of Coriolanus, from white to all shades of red. His fists clenched, and veins pulsed on his temples. The room fell silent as they observed.
''Oh, I am so sorry,'' YN chipped in. Quick, something. ''I have a terrible allergy to cabbage.'' 
The President's wife looked concerned. ''Oh, I didn't know.''
YN made her eyes water, throwing a coughing feat for more dramatic effect. ''I think I need to step outside for some fresh air." 
She felt a warm hand on her back. ''Let me accompany you, just to make sure you're alright." her husband announced, carefully leading her towards the exit. 
-
The first thing he did when they reached the women's bathroom was break the mirrors in a fit of anger. Shards of glass scattered across the floor as he paced around the room like a caged animal. YN watched as shouted and hit the walls, sitting on the bathroom floor. Beautiful one - the tile was a lovely shade of pink, contrasting with the chaos unfolding before her. 
After a good few minutes, he finally calmed down and sank to the floor beside her, his face buried in his hands. Her husband, her hauntingly beautiful, pathetic husband - oh, what a sight. He looked mad, maniac, even; his blonde hair was far from its usual perfectly styled form, falling on his tear-stained cheeks.
"What do you think of me?"
His voice is hoarse, a few notes down from a honey-like. She likes it better, YN thinks - nothing of the fasçade he was trying so hard to uphold. No, just a raw hunger with a mix of equally raw despair.
"I think you are an animal, Coriolanus."
She smiles, watching his expression change. He suspected it, of course - her husband was a smart man. Still, he can't believe it - his head twitches in her direction, his gorgeous bottomless eyes shining under the weak light of the only surviving floor lamp.
"What?" he asks with such a loss in his voice YN has to fight the urge to bring him close. Not now, she thinks. It's not the time. 
"A hungry, desperate, sick, sick animal with nothing to lose."
Coriolanus gets closer abruptly, clearly angered - she can't let him leave now. His arm shouts to find its place on her neck, long, slim fingers forming a circle around her throat. "You think I am after money, don't you?"
"No, no," a yelp escapes her lips, bordering a hysterical laugh. "Only fools are after money, Coriolanus, and you are no fool."
YN watches as he loses his grip a little, calmed by her words. What a pitiful, fascinating creature was her husband - one word of reassurance and he is willing to let thousands of cursings slide.
"What is it, then? What did you fantasize about in your small dull head?"
He still doesn't believe her. YN is surprised at how quickly it becomes boring. 
"You want power."
Clap - the grip on her neck is tight again.
"That's why you choose the fear. People forget the hand that feeds them, but the one who beats? Never."
The frown on his face falls a little, and through the gritted teeth escapes something like a curse. "You talk an awful lot about me," he notes. "What are you hungry for?"
"You."
He laughs. That was a deep, chest laugh - YN thinks she never heard him laugh so sincerely. "You want my love? Don't lie to me, YN," he taunts, pressing a little harder on her neck.
"Not love. Love is easily swayed, is it not? No, I want you."
Coriolanus looks at her as if he never done so before. Well, he looked thousands of times, but he didn't see. His eyes study every expression in hers, every part of her face. "A hungry dog is not a loyal dog," he finally masters.
There is a certain silence after his words. YN gulps, desperatly trying to help her dried throat - the blood from his hands ran down her neck onto her exposed chest, leaving sticky, dark trails behind.
"Feed me, then."
He kisses her. He puts a force behind it, watching her hands fall on his chest for some kind of support. Coriolanus kisses her until there is no air in YN's chest anymore, and she has to push him away to take a rushed breath. 
They were going to be just fine.
After all, they both never bet on losing dogs.
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prettyboyeddiemunson · 5 months
Text
what’s your favorite scary movie?
summary: porn star eddie is doing a halloween film with his costar, one that involves a certain mask.
pairing: porn star eddie x porn star reader
word count: 5.9k
warnings: being filmed, daddy kink, use of a realistic plastic knife (nothing weird with it, though), unprotected sex, creampies, choking, brief oral sex (m & f receiving), mentions of anal, breast play, anal fingering (f receiving), degradation, rough sex, kinda dubcon
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a/n: im aware halloween is over, but its always Halloween in my mind! also, sorry if anything like this has been done. I just returned to tumblr, and haven’t read many fics here in like 8-9 months.
18+ ONLY. minors do not interact or follow, or you’re getting blocked.
————————————-
Ring! Ring!
The phone next to you was ringing its familiar ringtone, and you looked at it with an eye roll. Unknown number, typical. You were acting the part of someone who didn’t like spam calls, but you hated them just as much in real life, too. You turned your attention back to the TV, ready to forget all about it and delete any voice mail they may leave, when it began to ring again. The same number popped up, and you killed the call. They called again, and again, and after the fifth time, you’d finally had enough.
“What do you want?” you asked irritably.
“y/n,” a deep voice came over the phone. “How nice to catch you.”
“Who is this?” you asked. 
“That doesn’t matter,” he said, and you could hear a grin in his voice. “I was lonely, and thought I would give you a call.”
“Very funny,” you said. “Tell me who you are.”
“What’s the fun of that?” he asked. “Isn’t mystery supposed to be more fun?”
“Is it?” you asked. “You’re probably just someone I know, trying to play some kind of weird joke.”
“Am i?” he asked. “I don’t think I know you at all.”
“Then how did you know my name and my number?” you asked. “Answer me that.”
“Maybe I have my own methods,” he said. “Ever think of that?”
“Ha ha,” you said with an eye roll. You hung up, but the same number called again and you picked up. “Yes?”
“That wasn’t very wise of you,” he said dangerously. “You didn’t even let me ask my questions.”
“They’re probably something really fucking gross,” you said. “I’m not in the mood.”
“Now, now,” he said, tsking. “What do you take me for?”
“A pervert,” you said.
“You’re right,” he said with a dramatic sigh. “But that isn’t why I’m calling you.”
“No?” you asked with a chuckle. “Coulda fooled me.” 
“What’s your favorite scary movie?” he asked, and you could almost hear the grin in his voice.
“What the fuck?” you asked, sitting up on the couch. “What kind of question is that?”
“Are you going to answer it?”
“No, now goodbye–”
“Hang up again, and you’ll regret it.”
The threatening tone of his voice gave you pause. “Who is this?”
“What’s your favorite scary movie?” he asked again.
“Whatever,” you said, and dared to hang up. It didn’t last long until he called again, and you rolled your eyes as you answered. “What?!”
“I’m sorry for disturbing you,” he said. “I just wanted to talk to you.”
“I’m not gonna entertain you,” you said. “You’re a fucking creep.”
“Just answer my question and I’ll leave you alone,” he said.
“Fine,” you said with a sigh. “I really like Psycho, Halloween, Friday the 13th, The Exorcist.”
“I know you like Friday the 13th,” he said, and he laughed evilly on the other end. “I can see that you’re watching it right now.”
You froze, sitting bolt upright. “What did you just say?”
“Never mind that,” he said. “Do you have a boyfriend?”
“No..” you answered automatically, looking around the darkness of your windows for any signs of life. “How do you know what I’m watching…?”
“Just a guess,” he said.
You got up and turned on all the lights, looking around again to see if you could spot someone. “Look, I need to go–”
“Don’t hang up,” he nearly shouted.
“Look, this isn’t funny or cute anymore,” you said. “I’m really uncomfortable, so if you could please–”
“You look really sexy in your pretty lingerie,” he said. “I mean, I think that’s what it is. You’re wearing that pretty pink babydoll with a thong. You like to tease people, y/n? That isn’t very nice.”
“Fuck you, creep,” you said.
“You didn’t ask what my favorite scary movie is,” he said.
“I don’t care!” you cried. “Leave me alone!”
���It’s The Strangers,” he said, and you could swear his voice sounded different now. More echo, closer somehow. “You know, that movie where those people break into that house.”
“I’m–” you began, and your back collided with someone as you backed away. 
You played the part of terrified really well, and you could see the cameraman giving you a thumbs up as you kept the facade. You turned around slowly, shouting in surprise when you came face to face with a man in a mask. He was in all black, and the rest of his mask was black as well, except for the face. It looked like a ghost, its mouth agape in some kind of eternal shock. In his hand was a knife, but you knew it wasn’t a real one. It was plastic that was made to look like the real deal, something the director found at a joke shop for a little bit of nothing. You shrieked and tried to run away, but he grabbed you and held you against his back as he stroked your hair in a near-loving gesture.
“Shh,” he said in your ear, trailing the knife down your arm. “It’s okay. I’m not here to hurt you.”
“Could have fooled me,” you said, feeling yourself already starting to get wet as you felt him hardening against your ass. “Why are you here, then?”
“I was hoping maybe I’d get lucky,” he purred, moving the knife between your breasts as you shivered. “You’re so much hotter up close.”
“And what do YOU look like under that thing?” you asked, your voice conveying the whole “stall him” vibe that the director wanted you to go for. “It’s not really fair that you see me and I can’t see you. If you’re really not gonna hurt me, then why won’t you show me?”
“I’ll show you,” he said, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. “If you do one thing for me.”
“What?” you asked, turning your head so that you could look at him slightly. 
“Show me those pretty, perfect tits,” he said in your ear, running the knife between them again. “Outside of that baby doll.”
“And what would you do for me in return?” you asked, turning around in his grip and looking into that mask. “Let me live?”
“Maybe,” he said, looking you up and down. “But first, I’ll just show you my face if you do. Let’s start there, yeah?”
You smirked at him, lowering the thin straps of the baby doll and biting your lip. “You’re probably some total asshole under there. I mean, who calls random women at nine on a Friday night, stalks them, then breaks into their house?”
“Keep going,” he said, his eyes on your breasts. “Show me.”
“You’re a real pervert, you know that?” you said.
“And look what you’re doing,” he said smugly. “Giving into me.”
“You came here to kill me,” you said. “I know that to be true, but it seems like you changed your mind. Why?”
“Because why would I waste such a good set of tits?” he asked. “And I know that pussy of yours is also perfect.”
You swallowed, but smirked as you pulled the baby doll down. You exposed your breasts to him, and heard him suck in a breath. That wasn’t scripted; it was his genuine reaction. You bit your lip again, smiling as you stood before him. He took the knife and dragged it over one erect nipple, causing you to shiver and moan slightly. That also wasn’t scripted or an act, and you knew that whatever happened from this point onward, it was going to be genuine. Well, aside from the basic acts they wanted you to perform on each other, but the reactions? It would be all you, and him. 
“Like what you see?” you asked, shaking them a bit as he groaned.
“Fuck yes,” he said, his ringed hands coming up to grope them. You moaned a little, head tipping slightly as he massaged them in his hands. “I guess I need to hold up my end of the bargain, too, huh?”
“Mmm hmm,” you said, mewling as he gave your nipples a soft pinch. “Shit…”
He stepped back, and you whined at the loss of contact. He lifted the mask with one hand, revealing his face underneath. You acted as though you were surprised to see just how sexy he really was, and his pierced tongue came out between his lips with a devils-horn gesture at the top of his head. You smiled, moving closer to him and running your hands down his chest as he looked you up and down again. Soon, he was grabbing your head forcefully, and drawing your lips to his in a passionate, hard kiss. It turned sloppy, your hands wandering and his, too, finding purchase on your hips as he squeezed. Your tongue played with his piercing, and you could feel the presence of the cameraman in front of you both as you made out. One hand tangled in his hair, the other palming the big bulge that was forming in the front of his pants. His hands came up, grabbing your breasts hard as you moaned into his mouth. He tugged your lower lip between his teeth, moving away to start kissing down your neck. 
“You feel so big,” you breathed, mewling as his teeth found your sweet spot. “Fuck…”
“You have no idea,” he said, pulling your body to his before grabbing your ass. “I want you so bad.”
“Come on,” you said, taking his hand and leading him into the living room. You pushed him down on the couch, straddling his lap before grinding against his dick. “You know what I want you to do?”
“What?” he panted. 
“Want you to rip this thing off of me,” you said in his ear, tugging the lobe in your teeth. 
“Oh?” he asked, grabbing the back of it and tearing it down the middle. “Like that?”
“Mmm hmm,” you hummed, kissing his neck as he moaned. “And I want you to put the mask back on.”
“Okay,” he said, smirking before his face disappeared beneath the Ghostface mask again. 
“You know what else I want?” you asked, moaning as you continued to glide along his clothed erection.
“Hm?”
“I want that big, thick cock down my throat.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Mmm hmm.”
“Then what are you waiting for?”
You could hear the smirk in his voice, and it would have infuriated you under any other circumstances. Right then, though, you were too turned on to care. You moved from your spot on his lap to slide to your knees, keeping your eyes on him as you did so. You palmed the bulge in his pants again, feeling how hard he was and suppressing a moan. He watched you from beneath the mask, both of his arms stretched along the back of the couch as you pulled his pants down. His breathing picked up a bit as you put your mouth over his cock through his boxers, and soon, you were pulling those down, too. He was exposed to you now, all nine inches of his thick, pierced, flushed erection at your mercy. As per the script, you teased him a little, sucking on his piercing before swirling your tongue around his slit. He mewled, panting as you took the tip in your lips and sucked eagerly. His arms remained on the back of the couch, not moving yet as you started planting messy, noisy, open mouthed kisses all over the entire length of his cock. You moved farther down to take his big balls into your mouth as well, sucking on them with a moan as you jerked him off skillfully. He was panting a little more heavily now, and you traced his large vein with your tongue as you made your way back up his length.
“Don’t fucking tease me,” he growled.
“Sorry, uh…” you said. “I don’t know what to call you.”
“You can call me Daddy,” he said, reaching down with one hand to stroke your cheek. “And what shall I call you, huh?”
“Anything you want,” you said with a wink, spitting on his cock and jerking him off. “Such a big dick, fuck.” 
“What did I say about teasing?” he asked, tilting your chin up with the knife.
“Sorry, Daddy,” you said, opening your mouth and taking his entire cock.
You gagged for a moment until you got your reflex under control, which was something you’d gotten good at in the business. You could feel him in your throat, stretching, his piercing at the back of it as you drug your head up, then back down. He was moaning above you under the mask, his head tipped back as he tangled a hand in your hair. You looked up at him, bobbing your head slowly as you gripped his base in one hand. You began to jerk him off in time with your movements, ignoring the camera man as he came around to get some close up shots. It felt as if he wasn’t even there, that’s how into it you were starting to get. You could feel your pussy throbbing, wetness settling in the thong you still wore as you sucked him off.
“Fuck, baby,” he moaned, tugging on your hair as you hollowed your cheeks. “You’re so fucking good at that. You’re a filthy little cock slut, aren’t you? I mean, who else just gets on her knees for a man she’s just met, especially one who broke into her house to hurt her?”
You responded by twisting your wrist, eyes still on him as you sucked him off messily. Drool cascaded from his dick and onto the floor below, and your throat was starting to hurt a bit from his piercing. But he was so hot, THIS was so hot, and you couldn’t bring yourself to stop. His hips bucked upward with a loud moan, and you choked as more of his cock went down your throat again. He stroked your cheek tenderly, before yanking you off of his dick. Spit bridged your lips to the tip, and you looked up at him in surprise. Was this scripted? You couldn’t quite remember, but either way, it sent a fresh wave of arousal to your cunt.
“Rub my dick across your tits,” he said. 
“Those are one of my biggest insecurities,” you replied, but did as he asked as he moaned filthily. “But you like them, huh?”
“Fuck yes,” he panted, watching as you sucked his tip again. “You’re so hot.”
“Thanks,” you said, and you continued to alternate between rubbing his dick over your breasts and sucking him off. After a little while, he forced you to stop by grabbing your jaw. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re gonna make me cum if you keep that up,” he growled. “Did I say I was ready to cum yet?”
“No, Daddy,” you said, reaching out to jerk him off. “But I can’t stop worshipping this huge, perfect dick of yours.”
He grabbed your wrist and pinned it to the couch, causing you to whine. “Let me make you feel good.”
“You already did,” he said, grabbing your spit-soaked chin in one hand and forcing you to look up into his mask. “Now, it’s my turn.”
“What do you mean?” you asked, trying to take him into your mouth again, but you were greeted by a light slap to your cheek. “What?”
“I said stop it,” he said, pushing you away as he got up off the couch. “Sit up here for me.”
You whined, but did as he said. You sat down on the couch, watching as he lifted the mask again. He kissed you hungrily, sloppily, one ringed hand squeezing your jaw before it found your throat. He choked you for a moment, and you moaned as his hands found your breasts. He massaged them skillfully, his rings cold against your heated skin, his fingers rubbing your nipples until they were hard buds. He pinched them, tugged on them, swiped his fingers across them, all while you moaned hotly in his mouth. He grabbed his plastic knife, running it over & between your breasts before dragging it over your waist and stomach. 
“I’m going to show you just what I’m capable of,” he said, kissing down your neck after leaving a series of hickeys in his wake. He nipped at your collarbones, before he found your breasts. “You have the hottest body I’ve ever fucking seen.”
“All the other girls you broke in on weren’t as hot, huh?” you asked.
“Not even close,” he said, pulling one of your nipples in his mouth and sucking generously. “Such an amazing set of tits.”
“Fuck…” you whined, one hand in his hair as he tugged your nipple in his teeth. You knew the cameraman was probably getting a pretty good shot with that; Eddie was skilled, he knew what he was doing and how to work a woman’s body. You were reacting to him, wetness pooling in your thong, and you spread your legs for him as you grabbed one of his hands. “I want you to touch me. Please, I need it.”
“So needy, princess,” he said, giving your other nipple the same treatment as the last. He drug the knife down, running it over your cunt as he smirked. “I’ll bet you’re soaking wet for me, aren’t you? You’re such a depraved fucking slut, you know that? Putting out for me like this, soaking that pretty thong for me.”
“Touch me the right way and find out, asshole,” you challenged, and you could feel him grinning against your breast. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” he said, smiling up at you as he started to kiss his way down your stomach. They weren’t gentle, tender kisses; they were needy, hard, bruising. You knew you’d have some marks there tomorrow. “Just that you think it’s so funny and cute to be calling me names right now, when I’ve got the upper hand.” 
“Who says you’ve got the upper hand?” you asked, and he slapped your thigh hard as you yelped. “You didn’t have to do that!”
“Shut up,” he snarled, kneeling in front of you and spreading your legs as wide as they would go. He peeled off your thong, and the cameraman moved behind him to get a shot of your pussy. “Fuck, look at that. So fucking pretty and so goddamn wet.”
“I can’t help it,” you said, shivering as he ran the knife over your bare cunt. “Daddy…”
“I’m going to make you fucking scream, baby,” he said, and he immediately began to devour you.
You had never been eaten out like that before, either off camera or on. The way his pierced tongue moved through your cunt, so skillful and hungry, had you moaning loudly. You usually had to fake your moans, or at the very least, over exaggerate them. Not now; right now, every single noise that fell from your lips was genuine. He was devouring you, his tongue flicking your clit with every drag upward, his hands gripping your thighs tight enough to leave more bruises. You reached down to grab his hair, and he moaned as you pulled it roughly. His piercing dragged through your saturated folds, slowly and teasingly, before he pressed it tightly against your clit. More wetness soaked his face, and his fingers soon joined the mix. The cameraman was getting some great shots, and Eddie began to fuck you roughly on his fingers while his mouth did its magic.
“Fuck, you’re so good,” you gasped, rutting against his face as you clenched around his fingers. “I need more.”
“More?” he asked, his free hand dragging the knife over your thigh. “How much more? I’m giving you all I can, you greedy whore.”
“I want more,” you insisted, your eyes nearly rolling back as he started sucking on your clit. “Please…”
“Is this what you want?” he asked, gathering some of your wetness on the fingers of his free hand and pushing a finger inside of your ass. “Huh?”
“Yes,” you gasped, looking down into his big brown eyes as he started to eat your pussy again. “Fuck, please…”
He took his fingers out of your cunt, instead focusing on your ass. He shook his head back & forth rapidly, growling, his eyes still trained on your face. You kept looking down at him, playing with your breasts as his tongue swirled your clit. You tugged your nipples, and soon he was slapping your hand away with his free one to take over. He squeezed it, massaging it, pinching the nipple as hard as he could. You cried out, and you could feel the familiar sensation in your lower stomach that indicated an orgasm was imminent. He kept going, lapping at your pussy as if his life depended on it, shaking his head occasionally, using his piercing to his advantage. He began to fuck you on his tongue as he fingered your ass, moaning as more of your taste flooded his tongue.
“So fucking good,” he mumbled, moaning as he reached down to jerk himself off. “I’m going to fucking cum just from eating your pussy.”
“I’d rather you cum inside of me,” you said. “I wanna feel that big dick in my tight, wet pussy right now. Wanna feel you pumping me full of cum, and feel how good you are inside of me. Please.”
“You’d rather cum around my dick?” he asked, raising a brow at you.
“Mmm hmm,” you said. “But you gotta put the mask back on.”
“Tired of my face already?” he teased, pulling his finger out and putting the mask back on. “Alright, have it your way. How do you want me to fuck you?”
“From behind,” you said.
“Just like a disgusting fucking whore, huh?” he asked, slapping your ass as you stood up. “I’m going to make you feel so fucking good, baby.”
“Then do it,” you said. “Stop talking about it and just do it already, asshole.”
He slapped your ass hard, leaving a large red handprint in his wake. You yelped but giggled, wiggling your ass toward him as he spanked it again. He held the knife to your throat, pulling you up by your head as his mouth found your ear. You could feel his giant cock throbbing against your ass, and knew he was close already. But if everything you heard about his reputation was true, you knew that didn’t mean anything. He could apparently hold off for quite awhile, even that close, and you were looking forward to having him inside of you. In fact, you needed it more than you ever needed anything. You were tired of doing films with men who had average or below average dicks; they didn’t do anything for you, and you always had to fake it. But with Eddie? You highly doubted you would have that problem.
“Keep calling me that and I’ll slit your fucking throat,” he said in your ear, pressing the hard plastic a little more firmly to your throat. “You’re in no position right now to be a fucking bitch.”
“I think I am,” you said, grinning smugly at him as you pushed back against his cock. “You’ve got me right where you want me, right? So, instead of making empty threats and being a douchebag, why don’t you just fuck me?”
He slapped your ass hard again, dragging the knife across your throat ever so gently. “You’re fucking lucky I think you’re so hot. Otherwise, I would be ending this right fucking now by cutting you wide open.”
“Fuck me already!” you said. “You’re–”
You were cut off by a loud moan as you felt him pushing inside of you. You cried out as his thick length stretched your pussy, and you could feel his piercing deep inside. He held onto your hips to anchor himself, bending you over the couch as he pushed himself deeper. You nearly screamed as you felt that piercing on your cervix, but it hurt so good. You reached down and squeezed his hand, and you could tell that he was trying hard not to break character to hold your hand. He had to know how it felt, and you could tell that he was holding back, even still. The director seemed not to notice, though; he just instructed his cameraman to get a shot of his cock buried deep inside of your pussy. He was almost fully inside, and it took you a minute to adjust to how it felt. Never had you been this full, never had anything felt so good, and you weren’t sure how long YOU would be able to last. He was moaning behind you, and you felt his dick twitch. That caused you to moan filthily, and you looked behind your shoulder into his masked face, a smirk on your own.
“What are you waiting for, Daddy?” you asked, biting your lip. “Fuck me.”
He started to thrust, keeping them slow and shallow at first. The cameraman looked up questioningly, and the director simply shrugged and instructed him to keep filming. You moaned, feeling that piercing against your cervix again with every movement inward. He kept hold of your hips, and soon, he was fucking you a little harder. You knew that he was making sure you were okay first, something that he seemingly didn’t do with any of his other costars. Maybe he found a soft spot for you, or maybe the rest of them were used to taking dicks his size. Either way, you thought the gesture of going off script was rather touching, and you looked back at him with a smile. You couldn’t tell if he was reciprocating, but the sharp thrust inside of you somehow told you that he was.
“You’re so fucking tight and wet,” he said, starting to absolutely DRILL you as you nearly screamed. “Listen to that, can you hear it?”
You could. As he fucked into you harder, you could hear just how wet you truly were for him. His fingers dug into your skin, his breath in your ear, and you just moaned as you clenched hard around him. That caused him to groan, and you smirked as you did it again. This brought another loud crack to your ass, and you yelped as the knife made another appearance at your throat.
“Stop doing that,” he growled. “You needy bitch.”
“Sorry,” you said, but did it again.
He stopped thrusting, putting the knife down to grab your throat with his hands. He choked you for a moment, chuckling darkly as you kept clenching around him. He began to move again but kept his grip, letting go only when you started clawing at his hands. He reached around to grope your breasts, rubbing the nipples as he absolutely pounded you against the couch. He was panting and groaning, the sounds filling the air as the cameraman got another shot of him fucking into you. You could feel your lower stomach tightening, but you weren’t ready for this to be over yet. Fuck, he felt so goddamn good; you never wanted it to end. You would have been content going on forever just like this, with him inside of you as you whined desperately. He knew you were getting desperate, too; he reached down, rubbing your clit in hard, fast circles as you cried out. You clenched again, his hands now on your shoulders as you braced against the couch. He drilled your needy, soaking cunt, each bump to your cervix causing you to moan even louder.
“Cum for me,” he said. “Show me just how much you fucking love what I’m doing to you. Show me what a greedy whore you are for my cock.”
You moaned, and were shocked to see that he was pulling out of you. The director was about to intervene, but Eddie was pushing you onto your back on the couch. He lifted your legs to his shoulders and pushed inside of you again, causing you to moan hotly as he filled you up again. The director stopped and instructed the cameraman to keep going, and you looked up into his masked face with a look of pleasure on yours. You arched under him, writhing, your hands finding his clothed back and digging your nails into the fabric. He pounded you hard, the new angle causing him to hit into your sweet spot. He didn’t use his entire cock this time; instead, he decided to get creative, and fucked directly into your G-spot. The feel of the piercing against it was so fucking good, and you tore at his dark shirt as he pounded against you.
“That’s it,” he cooed, the strokes of his cock remaining shallow and deep as your mouth fell slack. “Cum around my cock, princess.”
“Fuck,” you whined, your jaw still open as your head tipped back. “I’m gonna cum so hard, Daddy.”
“Cum for me,” he coaxed, his fingers rubbing hard circles on your clit again. “Do it for me. Show me how desperate you are to let some stranger fuck you like this.”
Tears began to leak out of your eyes. They weren’t bad; it was just so much, so overwhelming. You could tell that he was having doubts, so you sat up slightly to bury your face in his neck. He groaned, thrusting harder before pushing you back down. He pinned you to the couch, both of his large hands holding you down as he mercilessly pounded you. More tears leaked from your eyes, and he laughed wickedly under the mask.
“What’s wrong?” he taunted. “Is my dick too big for you, you disgusting slut? Can’t take it all?”
“No, i can,” you said, trying to get out of his grip. 
“Then take it and cum for me,” he coaxed, fucking you as hard as he could. “Go ahead, show me you can do it.”
It didn’t take much more for you to cum. A few more strokes of his cock, a few more swipes with his fingers, and that was it. You screamed in pleasure, and none of that was exaggerated or fake, either. You squirted around him twice, and the director was staring in awe as the cameraman caught everything. You kept arching, moaning, bucking up against him as he continued to pound into you. He was panting above you under the mask, moaning as you felt him twitch inside of you. He was fighting hard to keep going, but you knew he was going to lose that fight very soon. You reached down and took his knife, holding it up with a smirk.
“You wanna hold this to my throat again?” you asked. “Maybe that would get you off.”
He took it and did just that, holding it on your throat as he pounded you. You moaned, clenching around him, bucking your hips up against his thrusts to aid him. He looked down at your breasts, then back to where the knife was held to your throat, and you felt him twitch twice. You knew it was coming and, sure enough, it did a moment later. He came hard inside of you, moaning through it, his head bowed as he allowed his orgasm to take him over. He continued to thrust until it was done, stopping and nearly collapsing on top of you before pulling out. But he wasn’t finished, and you already knew what was coming because of the script. He pulled you to a sitting position and opened your legs, eyeing your dripping cunt as he rubbed the knife between both of his hands. 
“Look at that,” he said, running his fingers through your sensitive pussy before he knelt in front of you. “I made such a mess of you, didn’t I?”
“Mmm hmm,” you said, moaning as he lifted his mask. “What are you gonna do about it?”
“I think you know,” he said, dragging the knife over your thigh again before he started eating you out once more. “I’m nowhere close to being fucking done with you, you fucking slut. If you think that I am, then you’d better think again.”
“So much for scary movies, huh?” you asked, moaning as he began to devour your pussy even more desperately. 
“I think this is much better,” he said, eating you out more feverishly. “You know what we should try? You know, since you’re such a filthy girl.”
“What?” you asked, moaning as he fucked you on his tongue.
“Giving it to you up the ass,” he said. “I think that would be fun, don’t you agree?”
“And cut!” the director called.
You whined as Eddie broke away from you, standing up as he helped you. The director was coming onto the set to talk to the cameraman, both of them seemingly pleased with what they’d gotten. Eddie sat the mask and the knife down on the couch, grabbing a water as someone on set offered one. He handed it to you, and you accepted it with a big smile. You took a drink, and Eddie’s hand was on your shoulder in a comforting gesture. He pulled his pants back up and gestured for someone to bring over your clothes. You slipped them on once they did, and Eddie wrapped your jacket around your shoulders for you with a smile. 
“Are you okay?” he asked. “I mean, I didn’t hurt you or anything, did I? I tried to be as careful–”
“No, I’m okay,” you assured him. “Really. I just wasn’t used to someone that big.”
“A lot of the women aren’t,” he said with an apologetic grin. “I always ask them to let me go in slow and careful, but they never really let me. I guess they don’t want to shatter the illusion. It’s just…you were crying, and i was so scared that i was hurting you.”
“Well, I can promise you that I’m totally fine,” you said, taking another sip of the water. “Do you think we did well enough for them?”
“Oh, I think we did,” he said with a chuckle. 
“Something tells me they’ll be asking us to do another one together very soon,” you said. 
“In that case,” he said, smiling as he leaned closer to you and offered an arm. “How about I buy you dinner? I know I’ve worked up a hell of an appetite tonight.”
You grinned, taking his arm with a nod. “Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”
____________
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1K notes · View notes
humanityinahandbag · 1 year
Text
Eddie's April Fools joke would be him bringing Steve a baby that he's watching while he volunteers at the foster center (because kids aren't as judgemental as adults and he can actually do some good without getting nasty looks or whispers about satanism and murder behind his back).
He'd show up at Steve's door and hold out a wide eyed, rosy cheeked, somewhat confused baby like, "Steven, I know it's been a few months since our night of passion, but she's yours. I'm taking you for all you're worth!"
And it's such an obvious joke. Such an obvious prank. He'd just been taking this kid out for a walk and getting some fresh air.
But jokes on Eddie, because Steve wouldn't even think before lighting up, reaching out, and snatching the baby to his chest like oh aren't you so sweet, do you want to come inside? Yes you do!
Eddie tries to explain that it's a joke, but Steve just grabs his hand and squeezes it tight and the words die on his tongue.
"Bah phhhfp," said the baby, giving Eddie a look like, dude, you've got it bad.
Steve didn't drop his hand. His fingers were warm and strong against Eddie's. "Where'd you find her?"
"... foster?" Says Eddie. "I'm uh. I'm watching her?"
"And you brought her here?" Steve's eyes crinkled at the corners. His smile was sunshine.
Eddie opened his mouth. Closed it. Nodded. And then nearly fell backwards when Steve brought the hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to his knuckles.
"Glooof," said the baby, staring at Eddie. You're an idiot if you don't make a move right now.
Thankfully, he didn't have to. Not when Steve was giving him a tug over the threshold.
"C'mon. Let's get you both inside. I think she needs to be changed. You got a diaper bag hiding somewhere under all that leather?"
It was meant to be a joke. It doesn't land as one. Because somewhere in Steve's head, the paternal switch is cheering, lit up so brightly. Free baby? And the person he liked brought him the baby?
Well. Then there's only one real solution to the problem.
(For Eddie, that solution hits him just as quickly. Especially when the guy he's been in love with since the sixth grade is holding a baby to his chest, shirt speckled in spitup and drool, making coffee the next morning, smiling across the kitchen at Eddie so softly and sweetly. Well. He was done for long ago. Might as well fall all the way.)
Ten years later, Eddie and Steve are sitting on a park bench watching their daughter April try to sacrifice her stuffed bunny on top of the jungle gym.
"You do realize that she was supposed to be a joke, right?" He'd say to Steve, a little teary eyed and so unbelievably happy.
"Jokes on you," Steve would reply easily. "Because I kept you both."
Jokes on him indeed.
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lizzieisright · 8 months
Text
Tranquility
dom!reader x sub!Abby
Summary: You want to help Abby relax and show her she doesn't have to control everything, sometimes she just can let go.
Tags: dom!reader, fingering, praise, consent checks, Abby doesn't really notice she is subbing, very light and vanilla, Sylvia Plath's quotes.
wc: 3.7k
MINORS DON'T INTERACT I'll hunt you for sport 
-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-
You don't jump into power dynamics right away when you get together: Abby doesn't even think about it too much - she just assumes since between the two of you she is the killing machine, big strong scary Abby Anderson, she'll be in charge like she is everywhere else. And you don't seem to mind, even though you had the sex talk way prior to having actual sex (I can't bottom every time if it's something you want, you said to her, and Abby agreed: she liked topping but she could bottom just fine). 
So the thought of power dynamics doesn't come to Abby at all, until one day. 
You are too good at reading Abby's mood - for some reason you can notice even the small shift in her. It's a superpower that creeps Abby out sometimes, how you can recognise her feelings and act accordingly. You don't make a scene out of it, you don't take care of her like she is a child who can't regulate her emotions, but you're there through it all. You're not scared of her anger or her tears, always calm, and for the first time in years Abby feels like she can rely on someone. Can trust someone fully. 
And today Abby is on edge. She is tired, angry and frustrated - the plan for the next supply run isn't safe in her opinion. Abby likes her plans to be foolproof, "if you think they're smart enough think again and dumb it down" type of fool-proof. Everyone said Abby was being ridiculous about it, and maybe she was, but it doesn't make her feel any better. 
And you obviously notice it. You watch her from the couch as Abby walks around packing, huffing every two seconds in anger. 
"I saw that plan, Abby, it's good. Everything will be fine. Manageable if something goes wrong."
"Jamie is on the team, and this idiot will get us in trouble." Abby growls. "And then someone will have to clean up his mess and someone will get hurt and it will slow us down-"
"Okay. Okay, Abs, stop." You put your book away. "Come here, you need to relax." You pat your lap and Abby stares at you before laughing.
"What, you want me to sit in your lap?" Abby asks sceptically. 
"Yeah." You pat your lap again. Abby is unsure and she feels ridiculous: she is not a lap dog, she is a fucking German shepherd.
"I'm too big to sit in your lap, baby." 
"Do I look like I give a fuck?" You deadpan. "Big girls need to sit on their lover's lap too. Come here."
Abby blinks. She likes that she is big and tall - it makes her feel powerful, but it comes with a cost. She doesn't get to feel small. And you asking her to sit on your lap opens something so desperate in her she gets scared. Abby knows she won't feel small, but she wants to try anyway. Abby tentatively makes her way to you, still unsure how it will work, but you tug her lightly and she straddles you. Abby feels like she is a giant on top of you, and she doesn't really remember where to put her hands. She settles on your shoulders.
"This is awkward." Abby assesses, frowning. 
"It's not. Sit, Abby, I can feel that you're hovering. I'm not going to break, I'm not made of dust." You push at her thighs so she can spread them and finally sit. You seem pretty happy with this, hugging her by her waist and pressing her closer to you. Abby is getting used to this, but it still seems ridiculous to her. She is used to tugging you to sit on her lap, not the other way around. 
"Am I too heavy?"
"I like feeling your weight on me. Makes it feel real." You grin and stroke her back. "Really, relax. I can read to you if you want."
Abby doesn't really know what to do. She has no arguments against you, and your lap is very comfortable. As well as being this close to you, feeling your body, your breathing, your warmth. 
"Yeah, okay. We can do that."
Abby does what you usually do when she reads: she puts her head on your shoulder and lets you snake your arms around her. 
"Good." You comment and hold the book with one hand while you stroke Abby's back with the other one. 
You are warm and your smell is comforting, so Abby puts her nose into the crook of your neck and breathes in.
"Yeah. Breathe. Deep big breaths." You say offhandedly as you look through the pages. It's weird. Abby feels safe and taken care of and it feels good, but it is too unfamiliar to be comfortable with it. 
"Would it be too childish of me to say: I want? But I do want: theater, light, color, paintings, wine and wonder. Yet not all these can do more than try to lure the soul from its den where it sulks in busy heaps of filth and obstinate clods of bloody pulp. I must find a core of fruitful seeds in me. I must stop identifying with the seasons, because this English winter will be the death of me-" You've read out loud and Abby suddenly resonates with the first line. Would it be too childish of her to say: she wants your care? 
"What is this?"
"Sylvia Plath's diaries."
"She sounds dramatic." Abby murmurs into your neck while you are caressing her back. Fuck it feels so good. She is so safe. 
"Bitch is all over the place sometimes. But she is a poet."
You kiss Abby's head and she leans into your touch, surprising herself. She isn't usually… needy, but right now something is different. The sudden safety of your arms around her, your calm voice and familiar smell makes Abby feel dangerously vulnerable. 
"You feel pretty relaxed." You notice as you now stroking her head, putting all annoying baby hairs behind her ear. 
"Yeah. It's so weird though."
You chuckle.
"In what way?"
"Usually it's you who sits in my lap. But this is good. Just weird."
"I think the word you're looking for is unfamiliar."
"Are you a thesaurus?" 
You laugh and kiss her forehead. Abby nuzzles her nose into your neck and your breath hitches. 
You know Abby doesn't mean to get you horny with her breathing, but you are getting horny. 
"Come here." You tell her and Abby lifts her head just enough for you to kiss her. She is warm and welcoming, doesn't rush anywhere and you are not rushing either, just enjoying the kiss. Abby relaxes into you and it surprises both of you - she isn't a person who gives up control easily. Hell, the whole thing started because Abby couldn't deal with people not doing everything like she told them to. But you feel how she puts more weight on you and you buck your hips into her. 
"Okay yeah. Still weird, but good." Abby pants into your mouth. You dig your fingers into her ass and press her into your crotch. "Oh fuck."
"Wanna make you cum." You say, panting yourself as arousal takes the hold of you. "What do you think?"
Abby looks at you with a lifted brow. 
"You think I'm going to say no?"
"Well." You kiss her jaw. "I don't plan on letting you do anything at all, so, maybe take a moment to think about it."
Abby stares at you as your words settle in. She will what, just lie there and do nothing? It sounds wrong, it sounds like she is going to be out of control, but also…
Also it sounds like the sweetest sin she could commit. 
"If you're not sure, we can stop. Like, fully. Or at any point you want to." You stroke her cheeks with your thumbs as you watch Abby. You know she is apprehensive about this idea, but you want her to relax fully and forget about everything. And you know you can give it to her if she just says yes. 
"Yeah. Yeah, okay. We can do that." Abby smiles bashfully and you kiss her, so fucking grateful for how brave she is. 
It's one thing to stare death in her face and win, and the other thing to stare in your lover's face and decide to trust them completely. And any other day Abby would have chosen death, but with you the danger can't get safer than this. 
So Abby lets herself relax into you again and just enjoy your touch. 
"Thanks." 
Abby chuckles, but it turns into a gasp as you move your lips down her neck while your hands are tugging on her shirt. Abby helps you take the shirt and the bra off, and you just caress her sides, looking over her. 
Abby knows you like how she looks, but having your attention like this makes her nervous. Your eyes are so dark with hunger Abby wants to look away but she doesn't, as sudden greed for your love washes over her. You look at her like you want to devour her. 
"Pretty." You sigh as you smile. "You're so pretty, Abs."
"I don't think pretty is the right word."
"Beautiful?"
Abby huffs but can't help her smile.
"Gorgeous?"
"Stop it." Abby says, playfully stern. "You're so sappy, god."
You grin and kiss her again, shutting her up - if you say she is pretty, she is, and whatever Abby thinks of herself is totally irrelevant. Your lips make a trail from her neck to her shoulder and you gently kiss her freckles, listening to Abby's breathing closely: it gets heavier as you move your kisses down, and these small sighs are the greatest encouragement you can get. 
You slowly move one of your hands up and cup Abby's tit, kneading her doughy flesh as she gasps. 
"Feels nice?"
"Yeah." Abby murmurs and runs her hand over your hair. It's still hard to let go so she tries to occupy herself in some way. She gently massages your neck and you kiss her just above her nipple. "Yeah, this is nice."
"Good. Let's take your pants off, I need them out of the way."
Your intonation makes Abby throb in her pants - it sounds so commanding and for once in her life she doesn't want to fight it, no, she wants to obey - it's easy with you. Safe. 
Abby stands from your lap and you help her take her pants and underwear off, making a small pile on the floor. Abby reaches to tug your shirt off, but you gently push her hands away. 
"Relax, baby. Don't worry about anything, okay?" You tug her back into your lap and sigh so happily when you touch her bare skin. "Your job right now is just to be pretty. Can you do that?"
Abby is conflicted: you don't sound patronising, but it should sound patronising, shouldn't it? She stops for a second to understand her reaction and you just watch her. You know Abby needs some time to process what is happening, so you continue caressing her back and her pretty ass that makes you drool while Abby figures out how she feels about your new behaviour. 
"Well I can try." Abby shrugs and you smile. 
"Thanks. I wanna call you princess, you know?" You kiss her neck and leave a hickey on her collarbone. 
"Call me what?" Abby laughs in the middle of her gasp at how ridiculous it sounds, but it's not a bad laugh. It's just embarrassing. "I'm no princess, (y/n)."
"Would you actually mind if I called you that?" You kiss her breastbone and Abby watches you. 
"Don't think so." Abby pants and looks at you impatiently as you finally move your lips to her tits. 
"Princess." You murmur and look into her eyes while her cheeks become bright red. "My pretty princess." You suck on her nipple gently and Abby gasps, squeezing your shoulders. The pet name turns her on - a lot of things turn her on right now even though they're weird and embarrassing.
You play with her other nipple and Abby presses closer to you, so you let your restraints go and use all your strength to move her closer to the point where her back is arched. Abby sighs, surprised - obviously Abby knows you are strong (not as strong as her, but strong nonetheless), but she never actually experienced it. Maybe you can make her feel small. Maybe you can make her feel like no one else could before. 
You slowly move your hands up Abby’s muscular thighs, caressing every line with your fingertips - Abby is too hot for her own good, and the hungry monster that lives inside you claws at your chest, desperate to have its way with Abby and make her forget her fucking name, but you’re patient. You would never push Abby into something she isn’t ready for, especially in sex, but you want to show her an alternative. Show that she can let herself forget her fucking name and it will be safe. Because god knows Abby needs it.
Abby watches your hands in anticipation and you smirk at her when you place your hands on conjunctions of her hips, caressing her hip bones with your thumbs. Abby is soft here, but her V-line makes her look sharp and hard, and it gets to your head. 
“I fucking love how strong you are, you have no idea.”
“I think I have a pretty good idea.” Abby chuckles, but she is impatient, so she grabs your hand and moves it down to her pussy. 
“Hey, don’t spoil the fun.” You scold her playfully and bring your hand back. “I’m not going to keep you waiting, princess. Relax.”
Abby feels how her face burns when you call her princess again, but it gets her wet, so impossibly wet there's probably a dark spot on your pants under her. Abby grinds her hips down, searching for some friction, and you push your hips up to let her have it. Abby shudders as her clit grinds down on your pelvis and her hands clutch your shoulders almost painfully as she tries to set a pace of her hips. 
"This is so hot, Abs. Fuck." You tell her as you watch her get off just grinding on you. You grab her ass and help her grind harder and Abby whimpers quietly, and your brain barely holds back your filthy mouth. You want to tell Abby how good she is, how she is doing such a good job getting herself off, but you hold it back for now. 
The friction is not enough and you know it, so you lock her in place with one arm around her waist, praying she'd listen to you, and snake your other hand between your bodies. 
Abby is so fucking wet your eyes roll back into your scull from how hard it turns you on. 
"You're so wet, princess." You murmur into her ear and Abby whimpers again. "You okay?"
Abby just nods and it clicks. Abby is getting overwhelmed, but she clings to you so you figure out it's a good overwhelmed. 
"Do you like it when I call you princess?" You ask mostly to make sure, but it sounds so seductive to Abby, a little mean maybe but in a good way. 
"It's embarrassing." Abby admits and squirms around when you cup her pussy. Finally. 
"Do you want me to stop?" You ask gently and look in her eyes, serious. Abby looks back, but her eyes are glazed over, she is too horny to care about being embarrassed by this point. 
"No. Don't stop." Abby grinds against your hand and you press her closer to make her stop. 
"You wanna cum already?"
"You keep fucking teasing me." Abby says, annoyed.
"I'm taking my time." You kiss her cheek and part her folds carefully, circling her clit with two fingers and Abby buries her head into your neck, moaning. You stroke her back to soothe her, but your fingers only get faster, the pressure is featherlight and it drives Abby crazy because it will get her to cum way too fast, and you know it. 
"Yeah, that's right, princess. Relax and enjoy, yeah?" You can't stop talking now, desperate to praise Abby and make her feel safe in your arms. "Does it feel good?"
"I- I can't fucking-" Abby moans between her words, clinging to you harder as your fingers get her closer to her release. "Icantfuckingthink" Abby says in one breath and you barely make sense of it.
"Oh princess, don't. Don't think, okay? Be good for me." You pay closer attention to her reaction, not sure if Abby would like it, but she is too out of it now. She whines - fucking hell Abby whines - and presses closer to you.
"Yeah, I'll take care of you, I'll make you feel good." You promise her and slide your fingers down, gently pressing at her hole. Abby arches into your fingers, trying to get them inside, and your heart melts. "You're so cute, fuck. You want my fingers?" 
Abby growls at you, refusing to talk, and you chuckle. 
"Just nod for me, okay? Or shake your head."
Abby takes a second to process your words and then she nods. 
"Good girl." 
That makes Abby open her eyes in shock and her walls clench around nothing to push her slick into your hand, and you can tell she liked it. 
"Can I call you that, princess?" You slowly push your fingers inside and just move them to feel how soft and hot Abby is. She suddenly grinds down on your hand and you kiss her shoulder. "Nod or shake." You remind her. 
Abby nods, her embarrassment totally forgotten by this point: she feels small, safe and taken care of, and the way you talk to her only makes it better. Your stupid spidey senses let you know when to check in with her and Abby never knew it could be this way - that giving consent can turn her on so much because you ask for it like you're dirty talking to her. 
And you are so close and you hold her so tightly Abby feels grounded even though she is so overwhelmed she can't think anymore. She just feels, her world only exists in the tactile plane now, and your voice carries her away. 
"Yeah, don't think, princess, I want your head empty and your pretty cunt stuffed with my fingers." You murmur into Abby's ear and she buries her face in your neck deeper as you curl your fingers inside her. Abby moans quietly and you feel how you lose any self-control you had before. 
You pick up the pace, catching the balance between overwhelmingly fast and not fast enough just so you won't disturb Abby's delicate headspace, and you just listen to her. Abby is not loud, never been, but that what makes it so magical - every sigh turns into a quiet whimper the longer you fuck her, and then you feel it, how Abby clenches around your fingers, her orgasm coming closer. 
"You're close, princess, I can fucking feel it. Do you feel it? Does it feel nice when you're so tight around me?"
"Yeah." Abby says in a hoarse low voice and your teeth fucking ache because you want to sink them into her so much. 
"Fuck Abby." You kiss her temple and suddenly you're fucking her so hard Abby gets tense in your arms, overwhelmed. "You have no idea what you do to me."
But Abby is not listening to you because you turn your hand just enough so you could thumb her clit and-
"Fuck!" Abby shrieks and closes her thighs on you as she cums. You stop moving your fingers inside her to enjoy how she pulsates around them, but you continue thumbing her clit."Fuck-fuck, stop-" Abby asks when it becomes too much and you obey her. 
Abby is panting hard and you just kiss her neck and shoulders, waiting for her to calm down, but you can't help yourself so you start slowly moving your fingers in and out. 
"You feel amazing around my fingers, princess."
"Fuck, don't stop, please, don't fucking stop-" Abby whispers and hugs you around your neck. You’re more than happy to oblige, and you can’t help your mean smile as you move your fingers slowly but thoroughly, getting a feel of every centimetre of Abby’s walls. 
It doesn’t take more than a few minutes for Abby to whimper and shudder in your arms again, drenching your hand up to your wrist, and you gently kiss her to help her calm down. Abby is limp on your lap, her head comfortably tucked in your neck as she pants. Abby feels exhausted but ridiculously happy, giddy even - you opened something in her, something that freed her vulnerability fully. God, Abby always knew she could trust you, let you watch her back, but the thought she could be so vulnerable and small with you never crossed her mind.
“Do you want to nap, baby?” You murmur in her hair and Abby hums in agreement. “Okay, let me put your shirt back on, yeah?”
Abby reluctantly lets you put the shirt on her and wrap a blanket around both of you as you adjust your position so you’d be lying down while Abby would be on top of you, so it would be comfortable for her to rest. You open your book again while Abby’s breathing evens out.
“I am watching a pale blue sky be torn across by wind fresh from the russian steppes. Why is it that I find it so difficult to accept the present moment, whole as an apple, without cutting and hacking at it to find a purpose, or setting it up on a shelf with other apples to measure its worth or trying to pickle it in brine to preserve it, and crying to find it turns all brown and is no longer simply the lovely apple I was given in the morning?”
The present moment, whole as an apple - Abby doesn’t have to worry about not accepting it, lulled by your voice and your warmth and your smell - after all, the present is all she has.
1K notes · View notes
avocado-writing · 2 months
Note
Could I request headcanons for Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor react to overhear his gn crush saying how they're sure it's unrequited love as much as they love HIM?
OH so soft! yes absoloutely, enjoy!
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Astarion
now to be fair. he is a bit smug to overhear that you love him.
but he's also... touched? that you, lovely you, would feel that way about him?
obviously he's been trying to seduce you and everything, but he's pleased to hear that it's worked, but why does he feel so warm? happy?
maybe he waits until a casual moment between the two of you, when he feels like he can confess and it isn't too heavy, and he just lets out a little "I love you too, you know."
you stop. he can hear the way your blood pumps.
"...oh..." your eyes are wide, looking at the floor.
he takes your hand and it makes you look up at him, and then he brings you in for a kiss.
he can feel how relieved you are. and he's so happy to be part of something real, something requited.
Gale
overhears you and wants to say something about it immediately, but won't interrupt in person...
so he just uses a Sending instead.
"I hope you don't mean that, because I am desperately in love with you. only a fool wouldn't be."
you freeze and your eyes flit over to where he's standing, face as open as a book with his love for you.
you excuse yourself from your conversation and he follows, seeing how embarrassed you are, you tell him he wasn't meant to hear you, you just had to get it off of your chest...
he takes your hand and pulls you in for a long kiss. if you won't believe his words, maybe you'll believe his actions.
you melt into him. just melt, and the two of you stay together like that.
longest that Gale's been quiet for ages...
Wyll
he does interrupt, because he can't stand to hear you talk about yourself like that.
asks for a private word.
takes you to a seculded location and sees how uncomfortable you are, tilts your chin up to look him in the eyes, wants you to see the sincerity when he speaks.
"I'm sorry if I gave you the impression I did not love you. I do, in fact. most ardently."
he will tell you about the moment that made him fall in love with you, all the things you do that make him fall a little deeper every day.
as he speaks he watches the way your body relaxes, your eyes get hopeful.
when he finishes speaking you press your lips to his in a kiss, and it's the sweetest first kiss imaginable.
Halsin
he's an old elf at this point. he hasn't got the patience to let you wallow in uncertainty.
if he hears you say you love him, and he feels the same, he will let you know immediately.
finds an excuse to have the two of you be together. maybe to gather firewood.
when you're alone he will instigate physical contact - brushing your hair out of your face or something like that
when you respond positively, he will move to cup your face, look properly into your eyes.
"my heart. I need you to know that whatever you feel for me, it is reciprocated a hundred times over. you make my blood stir in a way I had quite forgotten..."
you should kiss him now. he will return it. the two of you will spend some time alone together in the forest, getting to know each other more intimately...
Dammon
oh, Dammon. he's so shocked.
him? you love him?
wants to make a big gesture but doesn't know how. probably asks Karlach for advice.
in the end he smiths you a special piece of jewellery and gifts it to you the next time you're together alone. maybe he even invites you on a date specially!
he tries to get to the point about how he feels but rambles on... eventually you reach out to hold his hand and it gives him courage...
he gives you the jewellery and sees your eyes light up. he offers to put it on you. fingers linger on your skin.
"you know, I lov..." "I know, Dammon. I know."
you can't stop beaming. he's never been happier.
Rolan
annoyed!
why can't you just be upfront with him about this! he obviously loves you back!
oh... loves you? hmmm. that's news to him. but of course he does! you're brilliant! how can't you see that?
has a couple of drinks one night for courage and then goes to find you. it is not an eloquent confession.
"I overheard you the other day! and I want you to know I feel the same way! about you! love, that is >:("
you stand there, fucking bamboozled, before dragging him in by the collar for a kiss.
he smiles so hard and you can feel it as your lips meet.
"silly boy," you sigh, fondly, and kiss him again before he can complain.
Zevlor
another old man who doesn't want to waste time.
he loves you. of course he loves you. there's no point hiding it, if there's a chance the two of you can be happy.
when he has a spare, quiet moment with you, certain nobody can overhear, he speaks sincerely.
"i do not know what I could offer which would make me worthy of your love, but I swear I will work every day until I am."
oh, he is so sweet. you collapse into his arms for a kiss. your strong, brave paladin <3
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cryptidghostgirl · 2 months
Note
Hey so uhh, it said requests are open so I'm gonna shoot my shot ig. I have this fic idea but I'm a shit writer so here it goes.
Alastor x reader but the concept is that the reader is Alastor's shadow.
Now, hear me out: Alastor is said to be a powerful demon since his manifestation in hell, we know that it takes demons quite some time to accumulate their power before they become overlords.
If "The Radio demon" was an alias was that operated between more that one person, then it would make sense as to why and how he rose to the top very quickly (assuming we ignore the fact he made a deal with someone).
That and Alastor's black appendages and shadows seem out of theme for a demon who's primary power is based on Radio.
As for how they met, it could go two ways. Either with Alastor, a man hungry for power, strikes his first deal with Shadow!Reader to get them to do his bidding. Or Shadow!Reader offering Alastor their services after realizing that he has a lot of potential. Either way, their partnership blooms into a sort of kinship between the two of them.
Do with this concept whatever you want with it, I just wanna get this concept out in the world in the hands of someone much more capable of writing than I am.
Enjoy!
A/N please always shoot your shot. this is such a fun idea,, thank you so much for entrusting it to me. I've decided just to write their meeting for now but may continue it later on. I hope you like it!!
The Thing (Alastor x Gn!Reader)
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Warnings: Mention of cannibalism and the Donner party. I think that is it.
Word Count: 1,752
Master Lists:
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Click here and leave a comment if you want to be added to any taglists or send me an ask about it.
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There was a secret, one that no one knew, one that would tear the demon realm apart at its edges if anyone found out. The illusive Radio Demon and his shadow were, in fact, just that: the illusive Radio Demon and his shadow.
Y/n was master of the immaterial, shifting forms and shedding skins the way others change their clothes. When Alastor arrived in Hell, they had long since been established as one of the many demons to be aware of.
Rumor runs rampant everywhere but especially in Hell where in controls, combines, and divides. Y/n was just that, a rumor. Never the same face twice, never in the same place twice. No one even knew their name, simply referring to them as the thing or the hunger. They snatched sinner's souls from their grasps and devoured them whole. An urban legend, a ghost story only here, all the ghosts were real.
Alastor was as observant in death as he had been in life, it didn't take him long to catch sight of the shadow. Though he had only been in Hell a few days when it had first appeared, he could tell it had nefarious intent.
The thing was a good actor, almost good enough to fool him. It lay in the reality of his own shadow, following his moves perfectly. However, no one is perfect and every once in a while, there would be a little slip. The first one which had caught Alastor's attention was when he had taken a step forward and it had gone the wrong way, quickly righting itself and following after the mistake.
Alastor pretended not to have noticed, but he remembered. He lay in wait for another such occurrence. It was not until two days later, when his shadow gave him four hands rather than two with no apparent explanation such as an odd angle to the sun or another body near him, that his thesis was confirmed. There was, in fact, something following him.
It stuck like glue to the heels of his shoes. Alastor was quiet, Alastor schemed. He had trapped it in a pure white room which he had fixed lightbulbs in from all sides. When he had turned on the lights, he had turned on them, arms crossed and foot tapping expectantly.
The shadow had looked this way and that, searching for a place to hide. When they realized it was no use, they had pulled themselves from the floor into three dimensions and faced him head on.
"Who are you?" Alastor had asked before quickly reevaluating his question, "What are you?"
It moved like liquid in the air, twisting and dissolving at its edges. Bubbles, or what was almost bubbles, what looked like bubbles, rose to the surface of it's body and as they popped, a demon began to take the shadow's place.
"I am everything."
They were many voiced. When they spoke, it sounded like a crowd of people saying the same thing in unison. Alastor stared at the demon, unamused. They were a full person now, about a head shorter than him and seemingly very calm considering he had them trapped. Then again, Alastor had only been in Hell a few weeks by this point, not nearly enough time to work up the sort of reputation he was hoping for.
"Is that a bad pickup line?" Alastor asked, "Am I supposed to ask what you mean and you'll say something like 'I could be everything to you?'"
The demon raised their eyebrows, shaking their head.
"It is the truth."
A tense silence fell between the pair. Alastor broke it with a sigh, rubbing his temples in irritation. He hadn't really known what to expect from this endeavor save an event to break up the monotony of his days. The demon was not delivering.
"Yeah, alright."
"Who are you?"
"You've been following me for what, two weeks? And you don't know?"
The demon shrugged.
"I was trying to be polite. It has been a while since I have spoken to anyone."
"Sure. Well," Alastor turned to the door, pulling a skeleton key from his pocket, "this has been interesting. Enjoy eternity alone in a well lit room."
Alastor opened the door. The demon made no move to follow him out of the room, no move to escape. They simply watched him in curiosity, their head tilted slightly to one side. Alastor hesitated, his body blocking the exit and his back towards them. He watched them over his shoulder as a thin black smoke seemed to emanate from the outline of their body.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
An empty threat, barley even a threat to be honest. Alastor stepped out of the room, closing the door firmly behind him. Once he was sure it was locked, he slipped the key back into his pocket. He made to leave, intending to go out on the town in a desperate attempt to find entertainment. Barley two steps forward, and shadows began to pool on the floor before his feet, blocking Alastor's path.
He watched in a mild interest as the demon pulled themselves from the shadows, taking on a different face than they had worn in the room. Now they were broader, taller, stronger. They looked mean.
"I told you."
"Is this what you meant when you said you were everything?"
The demon nodded once. Their wide eyes were unblinking, unchanging, as their form mutated again. A spider demon now with many arms and a lanky figure. Alastor raised his eyebrows.
"So, you let me catch you."
"I was bored. No one ever notices me until it is too late, except you."
"I find that hard to believe. You were easy to spot."
The demon's eyes widened slightly at this, something similar to surprise but halfway to fear.
"Like I said, Alastor the interesting." they mused after a moment.
Alastor bowed his head slightly in recognition of the title.
"I could take your soul, destroy you. Why were you so willing to risk all that? Surely a bit of entertainment can't be worth that much to you."
He was trying to get a gage on the creature, and he knew they could tell. It was a mild threat, one he couldn't follow through on even if he wanted to. Sure, he could maim the creature, cause it great pain, but beyond leaving them formless for a few days tops he was powerless. He knew that, but he didn't know if they did. Either way, the situation would play out to his advantage. It would either give him more information, or the upper hand.
They considered the situation for a moment before answering. Alastor couldn't figure out if it was because of their interest in him, for fear of him, or some third, other undefined motivation. No matter what it was, he didn't care. This was the most engaged he had felt in weeks.
"You aren't an overlord. You can't make a contract."
"And you are?"
"No."
"Too weak?" Alastor teased and the demon glared at him.
"Far from it. I don't like being seen."
"But you're letting me see you."
"I am allowing you to see a face. It is not mine."
Alastor fell silent. He had figured that the demon before him didn't have a true form, or if they did, that it was shadow. Things were becoming curiouser by the second. He was no longer regarding his attempts to trap the demon as a waste of time.
"So, you want power but anonymity. Those things don't go hand in hand."
"I know. You want fame and lack the power. Another unmatched set."
Alastor's ear twitched at that, displeasure running through his veins and clouding his sight. His hand tightened where he held his microphone.
"I have power enough."
"What use is a Radio Demon with nothing to broadcast?"
"Are you suggesting a deal?"
The demon smiled a smile that was too big for the face it wore. Alastor had to admit, they were unsettling. He understood the rumors.
"I've heard of your... reputation shall we say? But if you think I will trust someone who's face I have never even seen, you are dead wrong."
"Was that a joke?" the demon tentatively asked after a moment.
"Not on purpose but I supose so."
The thing seemed to roll the idea over in their mind as their form changed once again, this time becoming a demon with the body of a shark. They seemed not even to notice they were changing as their eyes flicked back to Alastor's.
"You want information. Then you will be open to the idea of a partnership."
"This was your goal all along, a partnership as you put it."
A statement, not a question. The demon smiled, their eyebrows slightly raised.
"Oh, was it now. At least I had an end goal to this little... situation."
Alastor scoffed, looking away. They were right. He had come up with no ideas past capturing the thing that had been following him. He was in the dark. They had everything figured out.
"Show me your real face. Then we can talk."
"Alastor Hartifelt. Died 1933. Louisiana famed radio host and serial killer cut down in his prime by a hunter who mistook him for a deer."
"Are you trying to intimidate me?"
"Not at all."
The demon shifted once again. It took them longer to find form this time, remaining as a black cloud for a few moments before at last settling on an almost human body. They were shorter than he had expected, smaller too and decked out in what seemed to be colonial dress. They held a hand out to him.
"Y/n L/n. Died 1846. Newly wed and member of the Donner party."
"Cannibalism." Alastor mused, gently taking their hand in his.
He had expected them to be cold, immaterial. He had expected his hand to slide right through theirs. Instead, the demon, Y/n, was warm and solid to the touch, just like anyone else. They smiled, mouth full of needles.
"We all take what we are given."
"I suppose."
Y/n dropped his hand and crossed their arms. Despite their stature, they radiated authority and poise. It was almost impressive.
"If you will be the face, I will be the force."
"No soul binding."
"I couldn't if I wanted to. Not an overlord."
Alastor looked them up and down. His smile grew.
"Not an overlord yet."
----
tags:
@willowshadenox @i-love-jafar @elfyeet @reader3 @lazygirlfanfic0-0
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bigwishes · 8 months
Text
Tummy Trouble
Connor flexed at himself in the mirror, he'd been lifting for years but still was no where near as big as he dreamed to be. He looked at some of his buddies in the gym that had gotten bigger than him taking roids but Connor didn't want any of that crap, he wanted to get as big as he could naturally, without risking his health.
Still he couldn't help but wish he was so much bigger.
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Connor was on his way out of the gym when someone stopped him.
"Hey bro," the man grabbed Connor by the arm
Connor turned to see a unbelievable tall man who was insanely muscular. The straps to his tank top where barely visable between his shoulders and traps, the length of his tank top wasn't quite long enough to cover up his entire torso and his gym shorts looked more like spandex underwear. Connor was both turned on by the sheer size of the guy and turned off, he was clearly a roid head.
"eer, hey man"
"hey bro you look real fit, are you training to get bigger?"
"yeah man, as big as I NATURALLY can" Connor made sure to pretty much shout naturally at the guy, he'd had too many roid heads try and sell him gear in the locker room before but never had one brave enough to try it out the front of the gym
"aw yeah man, nice nice, look I got a sample for you"
"sorry man, Im not into enhancements or roids or whatever"
"you got me all wrong bro, no roids, its free gym gear we are giving out some clothing samples and asking for feedback for payment"
Connor's face turned bright red with embarrassment, now he seemed like some entitled asshole who thought he was too good to even talk to anyone not natural.
"bro I'm so sorry, I just, normally when a guy like you asks me if I want a sample in the gym" Connor began to stumble over his words trying to back peddle realising he basically just called this guy a roidhead without proof
"a guy like me?"
"yeah, eerrrrr, ya know big and..."
The giant man began to laugh and slapped Connor on the back "I'm just fucking with you mate"
Connor let out a sigh of relief
"but hey mate, so you're all about the natural look yeah? but you also wanna be a massive tank?"
"yeah man, look I know I might be dreaming but I wanna be fucking huge, like you, I just don't wanna take any enhancements"
"I think I got something for you mate, here"
The giant handed Connor a small carboard box with the words "Big and Bulky" written in bold black letters and a gift card for $100 Food delivery service stapled to the top.
"Free of charge mate, put em on when you get home and I'm sure you'll be feelin like a freak in no time" The giant man winked.
Connor took the gift and continued to thank him multiple times trying to make up for the fool he'd made of himself just moments before. He got in his car and sank in his chair. He opened the box seeing a pair of briefs, he couldn't exactly try them on in his car, he thought it'd be better to just come back with some feedback tomorrow.
----------------
Connor stepped out of the shower and dried himself off, he began his normal flexing routine in his mirror but thoughts about being staying lean and small invaded his mind fairly quickly. He contemplated if staying natural was worth it if it meant he'll never get his dream body. Pushing the thoughts to the back of his mind Connor slipped on the briefs he was gifted earlier and......they felt like normal briefs. He couldn't work out how these were made special for athletes but at least he got a food gift card out of it.
Connor picked up his phone going to take a photo whilst he looked good in the light when suddenly a golden light began to shine off the waist band of the briefs. It was like sunlight was coming out of the fabric itself. He saw the letters B....I.....G slowly appear and he watched in the mirror as his body began to swell. His shoulders broadened, chest expanded with every breath, his arms began to swell up and soon his pecs and arms were competing for space. His thighs became tree trunks and he had to readjust his package so it didn't get crushed between them, even his feet began to grow outwards. Soon it all slowed down and all Connor could do was stare at himself in amazement.
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Somehow, by literally magic he had swollen up into the size of his dreams. he couldn't help but start flexing and even licking his own bicep. A small noise, like a shop bell interrupted his self worship as a tiny slip of paper was ejected from the top of the box. Connor picked it up...
"Thank you for choosing Djinn.co transformative clothing, the transformative clothes you have chosen will permanently change your body, no need to workout to stay in shape never loose muscle keep the body of your dreams... NOTE: Your attendant for the day was Big Guy Bob he has added extra command words to your transformative clothing, we here at Djinn.co only print two command words on our clothing however your interaction with Bob had him convinced you deserved more"
Connor was amazed, surely this was a dream, there was no way he had stumbled into a pair of magic transforming clothes. As Connor was caught up in this thoughts light began to shine out of the other side of the waist band, the Connor felt his body start to get bigger. A part of him thought he should take the underwear off but he wanted to get bigger, he wanted to be a giant like the guy he met today. Another light began to shine from begin but Connor couldn't see. He flexxed in the mirror looking at the letters B...U....L....K....Y appear on the waist band. He flexed as hard as he could expecting to see his muscles to double in size again.
Connor's muscles became slightly large but nothing really changed. He dropped his arms to his side hearing his stomach make a slight gargling noise.
"awww, is that it, nothing even hap-"
*FWOOOMP
Connor almost fell forward as suddenly his six pack expanded into a loose gut. Hair quickly coated his entire body and he started sweating worse than he normally would at the gym.
"WHA...M...MY ABS...MY SIX PACK WHAT THE FUCK"
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Connor rubbed his new tummy on the verge of tears.
"oh god...what the fuck do I do with this thing"
His stomach let out a loud hungry growl as if almost to respond to him.
He picked up his phone and used the gift card to order some food, as if on auto pilot he spent the entire $100 instantly and even dropped another $100 from his own bank account on food.
Connor just stood in the mirror staring at his new belly disgusted. He had all the muscle he had dreamed of but felt his gut, pecs and ass wobble as he flexed. Soon the doorbell rang and Connor went to go grab his bags of food.
Bringing the bags in from inside and placing them on his kitchen bench his hands instantly dove in grabbed a handful of fries out the box without even taking the box from the bag, without realising he had stuff half the box of fries in his mouth, salt fell from his lips into his new forest of chest hair and he simply wiped his salt covered hand on his brief whilst opening a bottle of off the shelf protein shake. He began chugging it down and could feel little bits slips from his lips and into his new beard. Connor picked up all the bags and moved to his couch.
Connor blinked awake as if from a trance, all around him were empty plasic bottles from protein shakes and soft drinks, multiple empty fry boxes littered the look around him and he noticed his chest hair was tangled with salt, some burger lettuce and dried protein shake, his briefs were also covered in stain from where he had wiped his hands. He slid his briefs off noticing 3 words painted on the ass he didn't notice appear. "SWEATY, HAIRY, SLOB". Connor rubbed his new gut and tossed the briefs to the side.
His stomach began to gurgle and it sounded like a water cooler. He watched as his loose gut started to become firm.
"oh...god...whats happeneing now"
each time Connor inhaled his stomach felt worse
"I....god what the fuck"
A small ding noise interrupted Conners panting and panicing as another small slip of paper magically was printed out of the top of a closed chip box. Conner leant forward and read it.
"Hey man, Big Guy Bob here, today you expressed wanting to become a natural tank, so I made sure you got a pair to turn you into an absolute unit but I know you were worried about people thinking you might be on roids, just look at today you were so quick to think I was on them, so I added some key words to not only turn you into a huge tank but to turn you into a huge slob, enjoy the size bro"
Connor groaned as he tossed the note to the ground.
"FUUUUUUUCKKK IM SO.......BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPP"
the pain subsided and his stomach went soft again. Connor stared at his enormous body in the reflection of the black glass of his TV.
"mm...mmaybe i can cut?" Conner said aloud, completely unaware of the cupcake he was stuffing into his mouth as he spoke...
-----------------------------------
I hope everyone who wanted me to write a weight gain story is happy with this one, this is probably as far as Ill every go with this kinda stuff but yall voted on it and I was happy to write it.
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souliebird · 13 days
Text
[[and then I met you || ch. 17]]
Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit
Summary:
A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.
pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16
Words: 4.3k
ao3 link
banner thanks to the wonderful @theradioactivespidergwen
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“No.” 
Minnie plants her little feet firmly on the sidewalk and pulls her hands out of your and Matt’s grips so she can make her point by crossing her arms over her chest. A pout starts forming on her face and you have the feeling this is as far as your daughter will be going.
Across the street looms Clinton Church and you can understand why your daughter does not want to go anywhere near it. The building is as imposing as it is grand with its traditional architecture half shadowed in the morning sun. There is light reflecting off the many windows, casting little glares that you are sure Minnie can interpret in multiple ways - including eyes looking down at her. 
Try as you might, you can’t imagine what else your little one must be picking up from the building. Is there someone praying inside? Or chanting? What sort of terrifying noises is the building making? How many rats are scurrying around the grounds, hissing and eeking and becoming unseen monsters? 
How many real monsters are there? 
Right now, the only monster you know of is the one in your chest named Anxiety. It is roaring inside you and causing all sorts of ruckus. 
You know Minnie can pick up on your upset, and it is probably influencing her, but no amount of breathing exercises or chamomile tea is going to relax you. 
Meeting someone’s parents is always going to be nerve wracking under any circumstance - but meeting the mother of the man who fathered your child? Who already has a unique and slightly estranged relationship with her son?
Frankly, you’d rather give birth again. 
To make matters worse for your over analyzing, Matt's mother is a nun. 
You have never interacted with a nun before, and your mind has been nonstop screaming that you are going to make an absolute fool of yourself. You are convinced you are going to say something dumb - like Jesus is stupid or some other blasphemous thing. 
You don't even know what counts as blasphemy, but you know your mouth will find a way to make you want to sink into the floor and disappear forever.
You are on the same page as Minnie and don't want to take another step toward the Church. 
“No?” Matt questions, tilting his head down towards his daughter. He looks a bit baffled, like he can’t understand why she’s taken such a stance. You know he is nervous about the meeting as well, having told you such earlier, but you don’t think he realizes how much his nerves, on top of your own, are affecting Mouse and her fear of the new big building.
“No.” Your daughter repeats, giving a tiny stomp of one foot to emphasize her point. 
“No, what, sweetheart?” He kneels down to be on the same level as her, but you have a feeling that isn't going to help much. Minnie has made her decision and trying to sway a determined, upset toddler is a near impossible task.
“I don't wanna,” she tells him, her voice starting to get whiny. She turns away from him to press herself into your leg, her pout growing even bigger.
Matt knits his brows together, confusion clear, “You don't want to go to the park?”
Technically, you are supposed to meet Matt's mother in the Church park that is between the main building and the orphanage but as far as you are concerned, all of the grounds are Church. Apparently, your daughter feels the same. 
“No. I don't wanna,” she declares, which quickly turns into the chant of, “I don't wanna, I don't wanna, I don't wanna!”
You can feel the tantrum coming and intervene, scooping Minnie up and hugging her to you. She instantly clings to you, burying her face against your neck with an additional almost screech of, “I don't wanna!”
You start to gently rock her from side to side and rub at her back to try and soothe her. You kiss her hair and promise, “We don’t have to go, baby. It is okay.”
As soon as the words leave your mouth, you feel like a grade A asshole. 
Matt’s face crumbles into heartbreak and you totally deserve to walk into traffic. He had opened up to you about his mother - about how she had left him as a baby only to end up raising him after his father had been killed - but not telling him who she was. He told you how he only recently learned the truth - less than a year ago - and how hard it was for him. 
But now he had you and Minnie and maybe, just maybe, you could all learn to be a family together.
Anxiety overdrive kicks in and a potential solution tumbles out of your mouth, “What if we go somewhere else instead? Somewhere we’ve been before?”
Matt lifts his head up at you, so you see yourself in his glasses, and for a second you think he's going to argue - insist you go to the Church playground - but then he tilts it towards where you don't want to go. You don't know what he is listening for, but after a moment, he stands again. He steps closer, a hand going to sit on your waist and trapping Minnie between the two of you. She stays nestled against you, little fist tight on your shirt, but you find yourself breathing a little easier at his touch.
“Would the office be okay? Foggy is out meeting clients and Karen is at the Bulletin today, it will just be us.” He offers quietly. Relief washes through you at the suggestion - you think the office would be a much easier meeting place.
But it is not your decision to make. You gently bounce Mouse to get her attention and ask, “Do you want to go to Daddy’s work?”
She doesn’t respond right away, but you feel her twist your shirt in her hands. You can tell she is thinking over her answer, so you wait, trying to focus on your daughter instead on how firm Matt’s hand is on your waist. It takes about twenty seconds, but Minnie finally nods into your shoulder. 
“Okay, We’ll go to Daddy's work.”
To reward her for being so brave, you press a kiss to your daughter’s hair and Matt quickly mimics you. Minnie clings tighter to you at the affection and you think she is going to remain tense and upset until you are far away from the Church.
“Okay. Wait here, I'll go tell Sister Maggie about the change in plans,” Matt tells you and you wonder if it is really okay with him. 
You know you and Minnie meeting her is important to Matt, but is the location important as well or is it just convenient? You are too wound up to ask and fearing you won't like the answer, you keep your mouth shut and focus on rocking Mouse.
Matt gives Minnie another kiss as he tightens his grip on you just slightly. It isn’t painful, but you get the impression he does not want to let go. You want to lean into the touch, your overactive mind telling you it might be nice if he never let you go, but before you can process those feelings, he is pulling away and crossing the street.
You step to the side, so you don’t impede foot traffic, and watch as he navigates past the cars and disappears around the side of the large building. Once he is out of sight, you look down to your daughter.
You want to ask her why she doesn’t want to go to the park at the Church, so you can better understand how she sees the world, but you also don’t want to put too much pressure on her. She’s already clearly upset, and you think trying to get her to answer your questions will just make things worse. 
So, you focus on making things better for her.
“Would you like your headphones, Minnie?”
That gets her to lift her head up to look at you, squinting like she’s trying to determine if this is some sort of trap. Eventually she gives you one curt nod before hiding her face again.
You are a pro at being able to maneuver to get into your purse while carrying a toddler and soon enough you are handing over neon blue headphones. She needs no help in unfolding them and situating them over her ears, and once they are on, she snuggles herself back into your arms. You have no issues or complaints with the action - you simply begin to rock her again and hope this mood subsides once you are at Matt’s office. 
You think about ways to get Minnie to interact with Matt’s mother as you wait for Matt to reappear. You think this might be the perfect time for parallel play - you’ve got a few coloring books stuffed in your purse, along with some small toys. You think it may be best to let her do her own thing while the adults talk, and that she comes over when she’s ready. 
You hope that Sister Maggie understands that would be ideal - you know she helps to raise children, so she must understand that some kids are shyer than others. Pushing Minnie to interact when she’s fussy will only result in tears. 
Possibly your own.
A few more minutes pass before Matt returns to the sidewalk followed by who you assume to be his mother. She's dressed in a gray and blue smock dress and matching habit, which is far less intimidating than the all black look you were expecting. She has an air of authority about her, holding herself tall as she walks, and you have the feeling she is a no-nonsense person.
You pray to a God you don’t really believe in that this meeting goes better than you fear it will. 
You move to meet the pair as they cross the street to you and offer what you hope to be a warm smile. The smile, though not as overtly friendly as yours, is returned and Matt does the honor of introducing you. You adjust your hold on your daughter so you can shake the woman's hand. 
“It's a pleasure to meet you, Matthew has told me wonderful things about you,” Sister Maggie says before directing her attention to her granddaughter. “And who might this little one be?”
To no surprise to you, Minnie attempts to burrow into you more at the question, smushing her face hard into your neck. You rub her back, trying to let her know everything is okay.
“This is Minnie, she's a little shy right now.”
Sister Maggie gives a knowing nod, “New places can be intimidating.” She drops her voice just slightly, in what you guess is an attempt to be comforting, and addresses Minnie, “Did your father tell you this is where he grew up?”
He did - you and Matt explained the outing to your daughter, but you don’t know how much she understood. You do know no amount of sweet talk will change her mind, even if it is about her new favorite subject - her Daddy. 
“I don't wanna go,” Mouse mumbles against you defiantly. You aren't sure if Sister Maggie can hear her, but you know Matt can. He steps forward, once again boxing in Minnie between the two of you and leans down to kiss the back of her head.
“We're not going there, princess. We're going to Daddy's office, remember? You've been there before,” he whispers into her hair. She shifts around in your arms a bit before giving another nod. You can feel her jutting out her bottom lip against your neck and part of you thinks you should call this all off and reschedule - but you aren’t going to do that to Matt.
Sister Maggie is watching your little family’s interaction, and you can’t bear to look in her direction to see what her reaction is, if she has one. Your anxiety has only prepared you for the worst.
“Perhaps we should start heading that way instead of saying where we are not going,” the nun advises after a moment and instinct and rational has you agreeing with her.
“I think that would be best.”
Matt pulls away from you and Minnie and you watch with downcast eyes as Sister Maggie offers her son her arm. He seems hesitant to take it, but he does, and your little group starts moving away from the Church and towards Nelson, Page, and Murdock.
The walk is quiet and you use the time to try and desperately calm your nerves, if only for the sake of your daughter. 
You think about Matt and what kind of person he is - he is full of love and care. He got those traits somewhere, and whether you argue Nature or Nurture, Sister Maggie has certainly influenced that. Did she encourage his Goodness? She must have had some sort of positive influence if he is not only wanting her to be in his life, but his daughter’s life, as well. 
You know some people believe family comes before anything, even if they treat you horribly, but you also know that if Sister Maggie was not a Good person, Matt would not allow her near Minnie.
He wouldn’t risk losing his relationship with his daughter. 
That is something you have no doubts about. 
As you arrive at Matt’s office building, Minnie lifts her head up off your shoulder. She wrinkles up her nose like she’s thinking hard before pointing to the plaque that state’s the firm’s name. You give her a warm smile, proud of her for recognizing it, but that only makes her squirrel away again.
This is the behavior you are used to seeing from your daughter in public - overly shy and not wanting to interact. You aren’t sure if the nerves and uncomfortableness from the church still linger, but you hope that once you are upstairs, she will start warming up a little. You won’t push her to do something she doesn’t want to do, but for Matt’s sake, you would like her to at least try talking to her grandmother.
Matt leads you all into the building and up the stairs. Sister Maggie runs a finger over the banister as you climb the stairs, giving a pleased hum, “Franklin did an amazing job cleaning this place up. Tell me that nose of yours helped in getting rid of all the mold.”
Matt huffs at the comment, “The property manager hired someone to come do that.”
“And did they get it all?” 
Matt’s mouth presses into a thin line and you already know the answer. 
“No, we spent a weekend getting the rest of it.” 
You stop in front of the Nelson, Page, and Murdock office, and as Matt fishes out the key, you look up and down the hallway, mulling over what is implied.
“You cleaned the whole building?” 
“Oh no, we couldn’t get permission from the other businesses to do that, but we did what we could to the public space and our offices. People feel comfortable here now.”
The door is opened and as you all file in, Matt suggests hanging out in the conference room. It has a nice window and plenty of space to sprawl out, so you have no objections. 
You set Minnie down as Sister Maggie and Matt head into the other room. She instantly clings to your leg, practically hiding behind it. You pet her hair a few times before pulling her away just enough so you can kneel down to talk with her. As soon as you are at her level, she is trying to get into your arms again. 
You let her hug onto you as you let her know what is going on, “Hey Mouse, do you remember earlier when I told you we were going to meet Daddy’s Mommy?” She nods but says nothing, so you continue on. “That is her. She wants to talk to me and Daddy and you and get to know us so she can be part of our family, too. But you don’t need to talk if you don’t want to, okay? I have your coloring books and you can color while we talk.”
That gets her to pull back just a hair and peek up at you with big brown eyes, “What are you gonna talk abouts?” 
You smile at the question and gently run your hands over her back, “All sorts of things, but we’re going to end up talking about you.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you. If you don’t want us to talk about you, you can tell me, okay? We’ll talk about something else.”
“But I don’ gotta talk?” 
You nod, and let your bag fall off your shoulder. Minnie’s new zoo themed coloring book and crayons are easy to pull out and you offer them to your daughter. She lets go of you to greedily take her toys and hug them to her chest.
“You don’t need to talk,” you confirm. “Do you want to sit at the table, or do you want to sit on the floor?” 
Minnie considers the question, and you take advantage of no longer being hugged onto to stand up. Your little one peeks towards the conference room, then back up to you, and declares, “I wanna sit on Daddy’s lap.” 
You feel so much pride over your daughter making such a bold decision. 
“Okay, let’s go ask Daddy if you can sit in his lap.” You know Matt would never deny her, but you do want to drill in making sure Minnie asks permission first.
She waits for you to lead the way before following you into the conference room. Matt and Sister Maggie are sitting opposite each other, and Matt has already scooted his chair out and is holding his hands out to help Minnie into his lap. 
“Daddy!” 
She hurries to him and gets scooped up and crushed into a hug. She hugs back best she can while holding her coloring book.
You take the chair beside Matt and finally allow yourself to look at the nun across from you. She’s watching Matt and Minnie with an almost unreadable expression, but there is something soft behind her eyes - like she’s been keeping it repressed for years. 
But then she catches you looking, and the softness is gone, replaced by that All-Knowing Nun look you’ve seen in movies before. 
“How old is she?” Sister Maggie asks, and you can’t help but flush at her directness.
“Almost four, her birthday is on the 28th,” you reply, forcing yourself to not completely avert your gaze and hideaway. 
She raises her brows before turning her sharp gaze to Matt, accusing him with, “You did not mention her birthday was coming up.”
He has the decency to look a little bit ashamed, “There were a few other things to cover, first.” 
The older woman shakes her head, “Priorities, Matthew. I may be new to being a grandmother, but you know well I have raised plenty of children and we have never skimped on birthdays. We may not always have the money to spoil someone, but we do well to make sure they know they are loved.” She looks back to you, “Do you have plans for the day?”
“Oh, um, the zoo. We’re going to go to the zoo,” you tell her.
Beside you, Minnie has slipped down into Matt’s lap, so she is sitting. She has started to flip through her coloring book, examining each picture before making her decision about what to color. At the mention of the zoo, she quietly mimics you, “Going to the zoo.”
Matt breaks into a smile at the words, looking proud as can be that Minnie spoke around his mother. He wraps his arms around her middle and you have the feeling he wants to crush her to his chest again but is resisting. 
Sister Maggie seems to know Minnie isn’t speaking to her, but just in general, and keeps the conversation to you, “That sounds like a lovely birthday. Zoo trips are always a delight with the kids.” She tilts her head slightly to the left before continuing on, “Matthew said you do not have a support network.”
“That isn’t what I said!” Matt quickly says, before turning his head towards you, “That isn’t what I said.”
Sister Maggie scoffs, “It is what you meant, and it is not a bad thing. You more than anyone know what it means to have a support network. Now,” she says your name gently and offers you a somewhat kind smile, “You are welcome to come to the Church and use any of the services we offer, and you may come by anytime you need, day or night. We will always have our doors open for you.”
You stare across the table as you process the words she has said. Shame and embarrassment course through you at the idea of Matt talking about you. You know you’ve never really had anyone to turn to, but the thought of others discussing such matters makes you want to crawl into a hole and cry. Yet, on the other hand, the mere offer of being welcomed at the Church has you spiraling in all sorts of good and overwhelming ways. 
But of course, instead of being thankful, the words that tumble out of your mouth are, “I’m not religious.” 
“That changes nothing,” she says simply and somehow, sits up straighter, “I have been given a second chance to know my son and through this a blessing of a granddaughter. I will not run from these responsibilities again and -”
“Daddy,” Minnie suddenly says, cutting Sister Maggie off while pouring all her crayons out on the table, “Pick a color!” 
Matt’s cheeks turn pink at the interruption, and you try to not slide down in your seat. You know you can’t expect your daughter to sit there quietly, even if she’s being a little fussy, especially if Matt is around. She’s a toddler. 
Matt clears his throat and asks, “What colors are there, sweetheart?”
“There’s green, and blue, and purple, and red, and orange, and yellow,” she lists off, holding up each crayon as she does.
“Let’s go with red.”
“Okay!” Minnie picks up the chosen crayon and begins to carefully start coloring in a gorilla. 
Since she spoke up on her own, you try to engage with your daughter to bring her out of her shell, “Can you tell Daddy what animal you’re coloring?”
You expect her to answer happily - after all she loves explaining things to Matt and she’s been learning all her zoo animals.
So of course, she does not do that. She whips her head around to look at you, and with the sternest little voice you have ever heard, barks out, “I don’t gotta talk!”
Your first instinct is to laugh at the outburst, but you bite down on your lip to control yourself. The urge passes quickly, and you decide you should praise your daughter for setting her boundaries, “That is right, you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. I’m sorry.”
She narrows her eyes at you for a moment, clearly judging you, before turning back to her artwork. 
Only then do you allow yourself a chuckle. 
To your surprise, Sister Maggie laughs as well. “Well, she is certainly a Murdock.”
That gets your attention and you and Matt both let out a curious, “Oh?”
“That little glare was all Murdock. I have seen it so many times from Matthew, who got it from his father,” she says and there is almost a fondness in her voice. “I expect the hands on the hips pose is genetic as well.”
Your eyes go wide at that. Matt’s father has never been brought up in depth before - you read the news article about his death in an online archive, and he was almost brushed over when Matt told you about his mother. You assumed, like your own parents, it was a sensitive topic. 
“I..didn’t know that,” Matt starts slowly, and you can practically feel the emotion bubbling inside him. Without considering it, you reach across the small gap between your chairs and take his hand, squeezing it. He instantly squeezes back. “I don’t remember him ever doing that.”
“I suspect he tried to not let his frustrations show around you, but it is something I remember clear as day - Jack with his hands on his hips, glaring at the refrigerator because it dared to lose power during a blackout,” Sister Maggie tell him, before she motions to her eyes, “They may not be the same color, but that look is the identical.”
The room goes quiet, save the noise of Minnie scribbling. You keep your hand around Matt’s, trying to communicate you are there for him in his love language. He starts to roll his bottom lip between his teeth, and you wait for him to react before you do. 
“You…,” Matt starts after a few more moments, voice almost warbling, “don’t talk about him. You don’t talk about him like that - what he was like.”
“Yes, well, I’ve never had reason to,” Sister Maggie says. She places her hands on the table in front of her, clasping them together, and she looks like she is about to give an interview. “But that has changed, clearly.” She looks from Matt to you, “Matthew said you were looking for family history. I do not have much from Jack’s side, but I can tell you what I do know, and I keep my own meticulous records. I believe reviewing these things, medical and non-medical, together, will…help us heal.”
You look to for his reaction. His mouth is parted, and he looks like he is going through his own emotional rollercoaster. You know how important family is to him and how dear this information must be to him, so you make a decision.
You lace your fingers with his and smile at Sister Maggie and ask, “How did you meet Jack?”
“Ah, yes, now that is a colorful story…” 
a/n: maggie is v hard to write
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stylesispunk · 3 months
Text
Waiting room
Joel Miller x f! reader
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summary: A few years ago, Joel saved your life and you have loved him ever since but he didn't reciprocate your feelings or that's what you thought. word count: 2,5k a/n: I didn't write a chapter for "The Not so Invisible String" series but wrote this. I would appreciate receiving reblogs and comments. Happy reading!
Dividers by @/cafekitsune
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"What happened to me?" you questioned, your curiosity seeking answers.
"I found you," the stranger replied. "You had slept for two days."
In two days, you changed the rules of the game.
In two days, Joel came across with his humanity when he found you laying on the ground after being beaten up by some smugglers.
And what a plot twist you were.
You were so young and naïve when the world broke into a mess, and the reminisces of your old life before were just fogging memories threatened to be erased completely by the clouds of your head. You had forgotten your mother’s voice, the taste of the cookies she baked on Sunday’s afternoons, and the essence of her perfume enveloping you in embraces you were never going to get back.
You still craved a lingering, real sort of comfort that hadn’t come. In this world, emotions make you weak, and being weak means you die.
The closest thing to caring you received from someone was from Joel. The day he found you, he treated your wounds, he prevented you from dying by starving himself, and he fed you with his food.
“I broke my rules for you.” He peeped once you recovered, but still, he let you stay.
Through the months and years, you had become accustomed to the idea of him and Tess being the only people you could trust; they were older and wiser than you, a perk but also a source of constant disappointment over the idea of you being seen as the foolish, weak kid.
You felt a burden. You were a constant troublemaker, getting into trouble with everyone who seemed to mess with you, but under some eyes, you were still Joel’s girl, just that you really weren’t. You just idealize the idea of it.
Because every time somebody hit you, he was there, and if that wasn’t love, what the fuck was it?
You knew that there was something between them beyond a simple partner-in-crime relationship. They weren’t what you would call lovers, but there was unspoken language between them you couldn’t decipher, not because you were a fool but because you weren’t a part of them.
Because you weren’t important,
You didn’t know if Joel cared about you coming back.
You were just someone Joel found almost dying.
Whereas for you, he was the closest thing you felt to home.
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"Where were you?" his voice called out in the middle of the dark room, breaking the silence of the eerie night.
“God, you scared me,” you answered. "I thought you were asleep."
"You know I don't go to sleep unless I know you're here." His voice was so sharp it could cut in half.
Liar.
“You are asleep other times,” you acknowledged, trying to remove your boots without whimpering as the pain settled in your bones. “And I'm here. You can go to sleep now," you hissed, out of frustration but also from the pain emanating from cuts.
"No."
"Well, I'll go then," you replied.
“Come here, show me,” he demanded.
“No.”
“Come here,” he repeated, frustrated this time.
“I said, “
“Now!” the raised tone sent shivers down your spine, forming a lump in your throat.
You were there, not moving, and he was closer. The dim light in the room cast eerie shadows as he examined your face, his fingertips tracing the evidence of the scars painted on your skin.
The cut on your bottom lip throbbed with each breath. A bruise, vividly purple, marred the skin around your eye, testimony to the violence that had been part of it and the cut on your nose, which seemed to be broken.
Not only do you face hurt, but all your body is carrying the consequences of a beating you didn’t think you deserved. Your bones felt crushed under the pressure of the emotional turbulence going on in your head.
And Joel’s touch, his gentle touch, so delicate yet full of fury, not towards you but at the merciless people that forced such a wound on you. You winced as his fingers grazed the tender skin; his silence was so loud.
“Who did this to you?” he muttered, frustration lacing his voice. The sharpness of his earlier tone softened under your teary stare.
“It doesn’t matter,” you replied.
“It does to me,” he retorted.
“No. Joel, let me be alone. It hurts; my body was hit, and I would be dead if it weren’t for you,“you sobbed.
“For what?”
"For you," you admitted through a shaky breath, the weight of the truth bearing down on you. The room seemed to shrink as you uttered those words, exposing a vulnerability that had remained buried beneath the facade of strength.
Joel's eyes softened, and the fury in his touch transformed into a gentleness that contrasted with the brutality of reality outside. In that fleeting moment, it was just the two of you, suspended in a fragile moment.
His voice, now a whisper, carried a mix of concern and disbelief. "For me?"
“The only reason I’m not dead is because of you. Can you believe it?” You chuckled. “One of the men there recognized me as Joel’s girl, who I am not, and then they stopped. Not even because I’m a person, but because I am associated with a man.”
Joel's expression tightened at the revelation, a flicker of anger passing through his eyes.
“Let me clean your wounds, “Joel began, his voice a gentle plea to attend to your wounds.
"No. I don't need your fucking help," you interrupted, frustration lacing your words, tired of being the dog at Joel’s door waiting for him to notice your loyalty and devotion.
"Yes, you need it because you're a fucking naive baby acting restless and so careless." Joel retorted, frustrated.
“"I have no one. My life is just a waste of air for this damn world, so why should I care about my well-being?" you shot back bitterly, the pain in your voice mirroring the bruises on your body.
"Because I care about you," Joel admitted, his words a brief glimmer of hope. However, before you could fully grasp the weight of his confession, he extinguished any expectations. "You have Tess and me; we share our roof with you."
"Exactly. Your place, not mine," you argued, a stark reminder of the boundaries that confined your sense of belonging.
"Your point?" Joel challenged.
"You found me once and brought me here, okay? Thanks for it. But that doesn't mean I have your respect," you asserted, the frustration bubbling to the surface.
"My protection is not enough." Joel questioned, his patience wearing thin.
"It's not," you replied with conviction.
"Then you can go and find your own fucking place."
"That's what I'm doing. I'm leaving the QZ. There may be a place that fits for me," you declared, the decision firm in your voice.
Joel's silence echoed through the room, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. But you offered none, maintaining a stoic resolve as you walked away from the confrontation.
"What? Where?" he finally managed to utter, a mixture of confusion and concern etched on his face.
"Goodnight," you replied tersely, your voice carrying the weight of unspoken emotions. The darkness of the hallway enveloped you as you retreated towards the bedroom. The door creaked shut behind you, leaving Joel standing in the dimly lit room, grappling with the echoes of your departure.
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The room was shrouded in darkness, and you lay on the bed, the events of the night replaying in your mind like a relentless loop making fun of you for being so foolish, but despite the physical exhaustion, sleep eluded you, and your thoughts continued to wander through the tangled maze of emotions.
And Joel, of course, whom you were leaving behind tomorrow morning before he could even notice you were going to disappear.
As you lay there, the door creaked open, and Joel entered, carrying a small bottle and a cloth. The soft glow of a flashlight in his hand illuminated his face, revealing concern and remorse for his previous attitude.
"I brought something for the pain," he muttered, his gruff voice softened by a vulnerability you rarely could see. You remained silent, acknowledging his presence with a nod.
Joel approached, his movements deliberate as he poured a few pills onto his weathered palm. "Take these. They'll help with the pain and help you sleep."
You reluctantly accepted the medicine, swallowing it down with a sip of water from a nearby bottle. The bitterness lingered on your tongue.
Joel then reached for the cloth, dampening it with water. Gently, he began to clean the wounds on your face, his touch surprisingly tender. The initial sting of contact faded, replaced by a strange mix of relief and discomfort.
"Joel,” you said, but he didn’t answer and focused on tending to your injuries.
"Joel," you repeated, a little more assertive this time. His name hung in the air, yet he remained silent, his attention fixed on the task at hand. The rhythmic motions of cleaning your wounds seemed to be his sole purpose.
You took a deep breath, the weight of unspoken words settling heavily in the room. "Joel," you said once more, this time with an edge of urgency, attempting to draw him out of his concentrated silence.
He finally looked up, meeting your gaze. "What is it?"
The room felt hot with tension as you hesitated before finding the words. "I appreciate this—the medicine, cleaning my wounds. But it doesn't change my mind about leaving.”
His gaze held yours, an unspoken plea for understanding. "You're hurt; you can't go so far in your state," he replied, a touch of concern in his voice.
"So what?" you retorted, frustration bubbling to the surface. "If I have to die outside, I will. I don't care. I'm just tired of this life."
Joel's eyes narrowed, his expression shifting from anger to concern. "What would make that thought go away?" he asked, his question cutting through the defiance in your tone.
"What?" you responded, caught off guard by the unexpected question.
"What would make life worth living?" he repeated, his gaze unwavering. The weight of his inquiry settled in the room, demanding introspection.
The silence that followed was heavy, the question lingering in the air as you grappled with the complexities of your own desires and the harsh realities of the world outside that broke any chance of achieving the dreams you had when you were a child.
The silence stretched, becoming a tangible force in the room, until Joel's desperation cut through it like a blade. "I'm waiting," he said, his tone laden with urgency.
"To have someone," you confessed, your voice carrying the weight of unspoken longings.
"How?" he pressed, searching for clarity in your cryptic words.
"To have someone that cares for me," you explained, the vulnerability in your voice laying bare a deep-seated yearning, a yearning you had been carrying for years.
"You have me," Joel insisted, his desperation now tinged with frustration.
"You're not mine; you're hers," you said, invoking Tess. "Do you think I don't hear you both having sex?”
His eyes widened, realization dawning on him as the unspoken truth reverberated in the room.
"Maybe my body was hers, but inside, it's here." Joel took your hand and placed it over his chest, just above his heart. "I'm craving for you."
A tense silence enveloped the room as your words hung in the air, and Joel's eyes reflected all the sincerity of his feelings slipping from his lips. Your skepticism pierced through the charged atmosphere, casting a shadow over the vulnerability that had been exposed.
"I don't believe you," you declared, a note of disbelief in your voice.
Joel's expression tightened, a blend of irritation and determination etched on his face. "You don't?"
"You're just saying those things out of pity," you accused, the walls of defense rising once more.
He shook his head, a flicker of frustration evident in his eyes. "You are whiny, a pain in the ass, arrogant, naive..."
"Stop!" you exclaimed, the litany of criticism hitting you harder than expected.
"Yet, despite it all," Joel continued, his voice a mixture of exasperation and something deeper, "you make me go crazy, and still, I want to break every single finger that has been laid against you."
The weight of Joel's words hung in the air, a revelation that cut through the tension and laid bare the depth of his emotions. His eyes, always filled with exasperation, now held a raw vulnerability.
"You don't realize that you brought sense back to my life!" he exclaimed, the urgency in his voice echoing through the room. "If you go and you die, there's nothing left for me to fight for."
"I want to be the last one you love," he spoke, his hands cupping your face, fingers tracing delicate patterns over the scars that adorned your skin. His gaze, dark and intense, held a promise that lingered in the air. "I want to be your ending."
"And I want you to be my ending," he added, referring to the weight of the words hanging between you.
A profound silence settled, punctuated only by the erratic beats of your heart against your ribs, In that moment, you felt that the confession of love coming from Joel was the last source of breath you needed to become a person again.
And then, he kissed you. With a warning written on his dark eyes, yet you didn't see it coming. He kissed you because there wasn't anything else to do. He wanted to claim your lips as them because they were his.
Joel's lips lingered against yours, the warmth of his kiss irradiated foreign feelings for you. You had never felt so loved for someone before, and as the kiss deepened, a subtle smile played on his lips, a rare expression coming from him.
He pulled away slightly, his dark eyes searching yours for any sign of resistance. His hands, calloused and weathered, gently caressed your face, tracing the contours of the scars on your face.
"You're not leaving," he spoke against your lips, with another gentle peck on them.
A shy smile played on your lips in response. "Whatever,” you replied.
Joel's confession had acted as a healing salve, mending not just the physical scars but also the emotional ones that had marked your journey through this world.
Joel's eyes softened as he caught the playful glint in your smile, and a warmth seemed to spread through the room. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace. The strength in his arms felt like a shield against the harshness of the world outside.
"You can be stubborn as hell, you know that?" he teased, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.
As he held you in his arms, the world outside faded away, and all that remained was the warmth of the embrace and the quiet assurance of shared moments.
"Get some rest," he murmured, his voice a soothing whisper. "I'll be right here."
With Joel's arms wrapped around you, the weariness of the day and the weight of the past seemed to dissolve.
In the arms of Joel, the night embraced you, and as you closed your eyes, you found life worth living because of him.
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miinatozakiii · 22 days
Text
wishing on you
park jihyo x fem!reader ; angst, fluff
synopsis: no matter what path is avoided, which turn is taken, it always leads the two you back to each other.
wc: 13.2k
warnings: alcohol ; cursing ; reader is part of twice ; men… ; kang daniel mentioned ; april's naeun mentioned ; jealousy!! ; pining!!! ; woooowww slowburn(?) ; lots of slowburn ; they're oblivious ; only half of it is proofread ; wtv else i didn’t mention
a/n: hey... sorry for the fake news, this is to make up for it. april fools!
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you’re two raspberry beers in, there’s no way you’re backing down now, especially not with your stubborn attitude. jeongyeon pours you a shot of some strawberry soju and you gladly accept with a bright smile and loud chuckle. 
how could you not drink more, to be fair, you had just won another award for fancy, you deserved this. 
half the members are laughing as you drink more, you were always one to be a heavy weight anyway, always able to take twice as much as the members could. it was entertaining to see you down another two shots of that same soju, and even after all that, you still had room to have a bit of the makgeolli that nayeon had brought. 
it’s clear that the rice wine from the eldest is what fucked you over; the flush of crimson on your cheeks made it evident that you couldn’t think clearly anymore, so was the swarm of giggles that filled the air. the members—either drunk or on the verge of that—watched you, they cheered and laughed themselves, especially jeongyeon. 
jihyo simply rolled her eyes, taking another sip of the beer that she didn’t necessarily fancy. she watched half the members laugh along with you and placed her chin on her palm, her lips turning up into a soft smile. 
momo and nayeon argue about something dumb, then jeongyeon butts in and chaeyoung starts laughing until tears start to spill. out of nowhere, jihyo feels a weight on her shoulder, then turns to see you smiling and all flushed. 
your eyes seem like they’re sparkling, and maybe that’s the light reflecting off your eyes, or maybe it’s because the leader of your group is all you can see in your hazy state. maybe all of the above. 
“jihyo… you’re so pretty” it’s slurred coming from you, but the truth nonetheless. jihyo laughs at your statement and leans back against the wall behind you two. 
“and you— are drunk” she responds, “i’ve seen you drink a lot but this is… well, a lot” 
“i like… yes, strawberry.” you mutter against her, closing your eyes. “and you park jihyo!” you add with a giggle. 
“yeah… whatever you say.” jihyo responds hesitantly. the leader of your group giggles again, it’s the kind of giggle that brushes off a joke, but this isn’t a joke at all. you pout, then shake your head while closing your eyes unnecessarily tight.  
“you think i’m joking?” you ask, the tone of your voice sounding like you’re a kid that’s been declined candy. jihyo smiles weakly at your response. 
“you’re just drunk silly, let’s get you someplace else before you start saying things you don’t want to.” 
“hey… why don’t you believe me…” you sigh, lifting your head away from her shoulder and facing her fully. you place your hands on jihyos shoulders and firmly hold them, then affirm, “i like you, lots.”  
drunk words are sober thoughts. every word that spills from your lips is laced with the raw honesty of pent-up emotions that have been brewing inside you for years. from the moment you first laid eyes on her, you were captivated by her beauty. minute after minute, day after day, year after year, your admiration for her only deepened. you've become adept at concealing these feelings, but now, in your drunken state, all pretenses have fallen away, leaving you completely transparent and vulnerable.  
despite your best efforts to bury your emotions, they've finally bubbled to the surface, laid bare for all to see. but still, jihyo’s trying to figure out whether this is real or if the alcohol is making you say all this. 
jihyo chuckles nervously when your voice raises, afraid that you’ll draw attention from the rest—who, are all too invested in their bickering to even notice. 
“you’be been drinking quite a bit y/n, let’s get you someplace else.” jihyo says, smiling.  
she places a hand on your cheek, feeling the warmth of it leak into her own hand. jihyo takes her hand off and stands up, making you frown in the in process. 
“alright, i’m going to get going. i don’t want to drink too much, i’m already tipsy myself.” jihyo announces to the table, then looks down at you. “y/n here needs to go back to the dorms, i’m gonna take her back and take care of her before she goes ballistic.” she adds, giggling lightheartedly. 
the rest of the girls laugh, then nod before teasing you a bit. your arms find their way around jihyos torso, hugging onto her loosely as you try to comprehend the overwhelming environment. the world spins a little and you’re afraid to get up, scared that if you let go of jihyo, you’ll lose balance and fall. 
“please stay, don’t leave…” you say, clinging tighter.  
the leader of your group feels her cheeks warm up as you cling on, you’re not one to get too clingy, and even if you do, it’s rare— and reserved for your leader. 
as you follow her out the room, she holds the handbag that you entered the little gathering with, making sure it’s safe with her. 
jihyo’s hand is also holding yours, sending an electric, warm feeling throughout your body with each step you take out the building and towards the uber she had called. 
you get inside first, then jihyo follows and sits right down next to you. as soon as the door shuts, you’re quick to lean right into her again. it seems that being so close to her eases your overwhelmed, alcohol-infested senses. 
throughout the whole car ride to the dorms, you’re clinging to her and surprisingly silent, but your gaze is on her the entire time. jihyo shrinks in her place under your hazy look. 
jihyo helps you out the car and into your shared dorm; you cling onto her arm the whole time. she fumbles for her keys and manages to unlock the door, surprisingly. 
she helps you over to your room, walking past mina and nayeon’sj, then places you down on your bed, watching you lie down lazily before sighing. 
“what did i say about getting carried away.” she mutters, then walks over to your closet to grab a large hoodie of yours. she helps you put it on, given you’re probably not in the right mind to really do much on your own. 
when she slips it over you, the hood falls over your head, covering your eyes. jihyo chuckles softly before fixing it up so that your vision isn’t covered by the material, revealing your tired eyes. your gaze is fixed on her lips, almost glued to them, and your hands reach for her forearm. 
“you’re so pretty.” you mumble, making full eye contact with her now. “so pretty since i've laid eyes on you.” 
before jihyo can even process your words, she’s taken aback by your sudden movement, feeling the soft touch of your lips against the corner of her own. it's a gentle, innocent kiss, clearly not meant to be anything more—right? she feels you fall limp against her, your face falling to where the base of her neck meets her collarbone. as you rest against her, she can feel the weight of your body against hers, your arms loosely wrapping around her form. in your drowsy state, you pull her closer to you, causing her heart to quicken its pace.  
there's this weird feeling in jihyo’s heart that is amplified when you lazily mutter against her neck, still, she decides to ignore it. she doesn't feel like adding another weight to her shoulders, especially not when it involves you. 
your head hurts like crazy as soon as you wake up, and you want nothing more than to fall right back asleep. you're wearing an old hoodie and the blanket you have on is wrapped messily on your body, limbs peaking out from the cloth. 
opening your eyes a little wider and scanning the environment, you take in your surroundings. you’re in the comfort of your own room, thankfully you made it out alive. 
trying to slow your actions to adjust to the hangover, you sit up slowly, but it makes your head ring even more. you groan as you lean against the headboard, trying to recollect yourself.  
in the corner of your eye, you notice a bottle of water and a packet of hangover pills. you reach for the water bottle, taking a small sip to quench your parched throat. the cool liquid soothes your dry mouth, prompting you to take a few more gulps in hopes of easing the pounding in your head. then you grab the packet of pills, but your hands fumble with the packaging, hindered by fatigue and grogginess. you let out a small, frustrated groan of annoyance before deciding to give up on the pills. with a sigh, you sink back into bed, curling up beneath the covers and closing your eyes once more, hoping to find some relief from whatever you had consumed carelessly the night before. 
the knock at your door disrupts your attempt at going back to sleep, making you grumble. you hear the sound of it opening and hide yourself in your sheets more, trying to make yourself invisible from whoever it is that’s in your room now. 
“hey, wake up.” jihyo says—you don’t respond or budge, instead grumbling again in response.  
jihyo frowns before sitting down next to you, placing her hand on your shoulder that’s covered by the blanket. she looks at the packet of pills she had put on your bedside the night before, shaking her head at how crinkled they looked from your failed attempts at opening them. 
“i bet you feel terrible, sit up and take the pills.” she reaches over to open the pills on the bedside table. 
you roll over and jihyo sees your puffy face, squinted eyes, and messy hair from rolling around while your hoodie was over your head. she laughs at the sight, then helps you sit up against the headboard. 
“how bad was it?” you ask, earning a tilted head from your leader. 
“what?” 
“did i do anything dumb?” 
jihyo ponders, deciding to not mention the memory of you almost kissing her completely on the lips. 
“no, you were just all tired and mopey.” jihyo teases, giggling. “you drank a lot.” 
“did you take me home? i can’t remember much but i remember your face from last night.” 
“yeah, i did.” 
“sorry for the trouble.”  
jihyo shakes her head at your apology, then hands you two pills and a water bottle. “just drink, breakfast is ready.” 
something is off, something is very off.  
jihyo's been growing distant. initially subtle, it’s clear now that she's been withdrawing from you, and it's breaking your heart. you find yourself questioning whether it was something you said or did. up until now, everything seemed fine between you two, leaving you at a loss to pinpoint any specific reason for her sudden change in behavior.  
sharing a dorm with her only makes this worse. each interaction feels strained, despite her occasional smiles and giggles. it's clear that she's making an effort to keep things short and simple, adding to the discomfort and tension between you two. 
it's aggravating, the interviews and forced smiles, the way jihyo flees from your eye contact; everything kills you. the members don’t really notice, you’re still acting like evrything is alright – since it is with everyone but jihyo – and so is your leader. 
but sometihng is up, so you take matters into your own hands. 
“mina.”  
“yes?” 
mina's laid down on her bed, the blanket enveloping her as she plays on her switch. she looks at you with a raised brow, curious as to why you’re in her room at this time. 
“did you need something?” she asks. 
“can i stay here for a bit?” 
mina hums, scooting over to give you space on the bed. she watches you sit down and put your face in your hands, groaning before you lay down flat on the bed. you take one of her pillows and hug it tightly before mina sits up to look at you. 
“alright, what’s going on?” she questions, “this isn’t like you. are you okay?” 
“i think jihyo hates me.” you sigh, hugging the pillow tighter. 
“what? why would jihyo hate you? you guys seem to be fine to me.” 
you sit up again, looking at her with a pout.  
“remember last month? that night after the awards we won? the night i got drunk?” you ask, mina nods and waits for you to continue. “well, i think something happened that night. jihyo's been distant ever since and— ugh, i just don’t know. i had to have done something.”  
“all i remember is you two going back early, nothing really happened but you were really clingy.” 
“like, how clingy?” 
mina turns away and ponders, making a little “hmm” noise.  
“i was completely sober, i remember seeing you cling onto her from the waist. your arms were wrapped around her waist, that’s all i remember. you were just really close to her, almost as clingy as sana is normally—without any alcohol in her system.” mina explains, shrugging. 
“is that why she’s been distant? because i've been clingy? that doesn't make any sense.” 
“you should talk to her.” mina suggests, “it’s the only way, and jihyo is understanding, it can’t be that bad.” 
you fall back onto the bed and groan, covering your face with your hands. mina places a hand on your shoulder and shoots you an apologetic smile.  
“what if she hates me and i only make it worse?” you mutter into your hands. 
“only one way to find out y/n.” 
-- 
after sulking in mina’s bed while she played her little game for an hour, you decided to get up and do something about the problem. mina gave you a little thumbs up before you left her room, wishing you the best and muttering a “close the door on the way out.” 
you've never been so scared in your life, even the sixteen elimnations didn’t make you this nervous.  
thinking to yourself for a moment you try to think of anything that could’ve happened that night. the lack of memory only adds to your anxiety, leaving you to question if you were too clingy or overly affectionate. did you say something that crossed the line? the uncertainty gnaws at you, and the only way to ease your worries is to talk to the worry. 
jihyo hears a knock at her door, brows creasing when she looks over at it.  
“come in.” she says, then she sees the woman who opens it, stiffening upon your arrival.  
“hey ji.”  
“y/n, hi.” she says, smiling at you. “did you need something?” 
“can we talk?” you close the door, “we should talk.” 
jihyo looks at your pleading eyes, then gives in. 
“yeah, okay.” 
you sit down on the chair in front of her bed, right in front of where she’s sitting. your posture is straight, jaw clenched, and fingers fidgety. shaking off your nerves, you begin to speak. 
“have you been avoiding me on purpose? i feel like you’ve been distant, things are different than before.” 
she looks down at her hands, then back at you.  
“it’s not that i want to, y/n. i really, truly love and adore you as a member. as a friend.” the way she says friend makes your heart sting a little, but it’s fine, as long as you don’t lose her. “do you remember anything from that night after the awards for fancy?” 
you pause.  
“um, only karaoke with the rest. anything after that i... i can’t remember. i’ve been trying to because you’ve been distant since that night, did i do something?” 
“y/n, i've been talking to someone.” jihyo starts, “i haven’t told the rest, but i plan to tell them when—or if things get serious with him.” 
him.  
“oh.” you simply respond. “is that why you’ve been distant?” 
“that night, y/n. i don’t mind, you know, when you’re clingy and affectionate. it's flattering and makes me laugh but, i've also been wanting to talk to you about something else.” you nod at her, continuing to listen closely. “you kept saying these things like i'm pretty and... you even said you—you liked me?” 
shit. you think, that’s all you can think of as soon as you hear it. of course, your crush on jihyo was there, but you pushed it down because hell, you were in the same group, you couldn’t let your stupid feelings get in the way. 
“is it true?” jihyo asks you, breaking you from your short trance. “y/n, do you like me?”   
“i mean, i used to, a lot. i mean i--” 
“y/n, do you or do you not like me. i'm talking about right now, and that night, because i don’t know about you, but even if you were drunk, you tried to kiss me—you did kiss me, on the corner of my lips. even sana hasn’t been like that with any of the members.” 
shit 
“oh, oh my god. i’m so sorry, i— i wasn’t in the right mind, i don’t even remember--” 
“it’s fine, but i'm just telling you this because you know, if you do like me and all that, it’s fine. we just—we can’t. look, you’ve been there for me all these years, we’ve been there for each other and i love you and appreciate you dearly, i do.” jihyo says, looking at you all stiff in your seat.  
you feel like crying, it makes no sense to but gosh is this whole thing grueling. yet, despite the turmoil, you're determined to find resolution and mend whatever rift has formed between you and jihyo. your hands shake from nervousness, jihyo notices and reaches out, placing her hands gently over yours. she knows how to calm you down, she’s a natural leader after all. 
“being with you, especially now—it’ll make things really complicated and difficult, and if things go wrong then our relationship with each other could affect twice you know? y/n, i care about you lots, and we need to keep this professional.” 
“yeah, i get that.” you say, relaxing just barely as her thumb grazes your knuckle. “i’m sorry for kissing you and making you uncomfortable, gosh, i'm an idiot. i'm really sorry.” 
“it’s fine y/n, i'm sorry for not addressing this. i should’ve said something sooner instead of not confronting you. let's always be true with each other from now on, yeah?” 
“yeah. thanks. i really want what we had—well, what we have to just be normal. i really love you and want the best for you.” 
“likewise.” jihyo agrees, smiling. she holds your hand, squeezing it lightly before getting up. “wanna go grab something to snack on? i'm hungry.” 
you laugh at her, easing the tension. “it’s like, eleven.” 
“you act like you didn’t sneak out at two in the morning when we were trainees, c’mon, you don’t want a little treat? the convenience store is right down the street~”  
you roll your eyes at her and stand up. “alright, let me get my coat. you're paying though.” 
after clearing up things with jihyo, things seem to go back to normal.  
you two joke and laugh and have deep conversations as before, your feelings seem to die down too. along with this, she reveals more about the guy she’s talking to: kang daniel.  
he's also an idol, pretty well-known – though not nearly as much as jihyo – and it seems that he’s one to attract. but sitll, he appears to be just a regular guy, he’s really just a guy—there's not much to him. yet, learning more about him still stings a little, you know you could offer jihyo so much more. but your priority is her happiness, and as long as she's content, you're willing to set aside your own feelings. the agreement to maintain a professional and uncomplicated relationship remains intact, even though it tugs at your heartstrings to see her with someone else.  
you feel like you’re benched, relegated to the sidelines while watching your leader and daniel take center stage. there's an undeniable urge to be in the game, to replace him on the field. you can't shake the feeling that with you in the lineup, more points would be scored, the team would triumph, and everything would align perfectly. yet, for now, you're resigned to watch from the sidelines, silently yearning for your chance. 
this whole relationship screws you over, but you have other things to worry about while being an idol and friend to your other members. you can’t let him win, so you’ll pretend to be fine, even if it tears you apart in the slightest. 
you wonder if time with jihyo is worth it these days, what do you even gain out of it? 
jihyo realizes she’s made a big mistake. 
her relationship with kang daniel is public now, but as soon as it’s revealed, there’s an uneasiness in her heart. 
this is all real, the public knows it, her members know it, and especially you.  
she spends more time with you and daniel simultaneously, but there’s this weird feeling when she’s with him. while in daniel's company, there's a strange tension that she can't quite shake off, but when she's with you? it's a different story altogether.  
she finds herself laughing more freely, smiling more genuinely, and experiencing an unprecedented sense of relaxation. just being around you feels effortless and natural, it reminds her how grateful she is with you. 
everytime she’s with daniel, part of her – all of her – is itching to get away and find herself back to you. she sees you in places and people she’s not with, it’s weird, it’s eating her up inside. 
as daniel sits next to her on his couch, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close, she can't help but feel a sense of disconnection. despite his attempts at intimacy, her thoughts are consumed by you. it's a strange sensation, one she can't quite shake off. the scent of daniel's cologne pales in comparison to the aroma of lavender and vanilla from the fragrance you use.  
and there he goes again, he starts to talk and it’s always about him, he never asks her about herself much. if jihyo’s ever talking about herself, it’s always her who initiates it. you were always one to ask about her day, how she’s doing, and you were simply attentive. daniel's rambles, words, and overall attempts at conversation these days—though well-intentioned, they fail to captivate her attention like yours do. she finds herself yearning for the moments when she can listen to your voice ramble on about anything and everything, or when she can ramble to you. 
 it feels like shes censoring or restraining a part of herself to daniel, but with you? it's the complete opposite. 
it's strange, the uncertain feeling isn’t something she experiences when she's with friends or group members. only in daniel's presence does she find herself immersed in thoughts of you.  
-- 
the preparation for more and more was rough on everyone, the choreo especially was difficult. 
the choreo was exhausting, tearing the members apart at times. still, as the group you are, you all managed to persevere. 
during one of the final dance practices, you catch from the corner of your eye jihyo leaning against the mirror, lips parted, hair sticking to her forehead, and staring into space daydreaming. she puts her head down for a moment before recollecting herself and standing back up, acting as if nothing had happened.  
she stands in front of the mirror and sips on her water, staring at herself for a bit. it seems like she has a lot on her mind. 
you walk over and put a hand on her shoulder, making her jump slightly before turning to you. 
“oh, y/n. you scared me!” she says, laughing lightly. “did you need something?” 
“you okay ji?” you ask her, “you looked really dead earlier.” 
your leader doesn’t answer, too distracted by how you look at her. as she observes you, she notices the intensity in your eyes, the sweat glistening on your face, and in that moment, she's struck by your beauty. despite being sweaty and exhausted from the physically demanding choreography, your concerned expression and the tone of your voice have her speechless.  
“hey,” you interupt her trance with your voice. using the small towel in your hand, you tap away at some of the sweat on her forehead. “you need to rest a bit more, take a longer break.” 
“oh, yeah, sure.” her response is rushed, it slips from her lips without her thinking.  
you pull out a water bottle and hand it to her, urging her to take a sip. “i think we’ve got it down pretty well, but it’s your call next time we run it again. take a break for now, i noticed you were fatigued during the dance break.” 
jihyo looks at you a bit more, head tilted up just a bit to meet you. she scans your face again, brows creasing just barely as she takes in your visuals. you raise a brow at her sudden look, tilting your head a bit. 
“yeah, you should definitely take a break.” you giggle, “you look so out of it.” 
jihyo finds her cheeks warming up, it’s not from being exhausted and sweaty, something else brings a rush of warmth. 
“sorry, just tired.” 
“yeah, okay.” you laugh, rubbing away the sweat on the side of her face now with the towel in your hand. “you look funny like that.” 
your leader watches you trudge away after the small interaction, perplexed at the sudden appeal in you. she's thinking about daniel, has he ever been that attentive? now that jihyo thinks about it, he’s never really done much about her stress or worries. he'd usually kiss her once and talk about himself in an attempt to distract her from her feelings. when you really take time to pay attention to her, it makes her feel all bubbly inside—daniel never evoked much of that.  
jihyo wonders what it would be like if you were in daniel’s place. 
“being with you, especially now—it’ll make things really complicated and difficult.” 
her own words ring in her head as she watches you sit down next to chaeyoung, leaning on her and pulling out your phone to scroll.  
jihyo feels conflicted, but there’s no time for that. especially not now, not when the comeback is soon. 
you and your group situate yourselves for the inkigayo interview. minhyuk, jaehyun, and naeun are set to be the mc’s. 
everything goes as planned, they introduce themselves before twice does, overall, the interview goes just as it should, but something irks jihyo. 
the way you’re all situated makes it so that you stand next to naeun, who keeps glancing at you. jihyo can't shake the feeling of discomfort as she notices naeun’s behavior; the frequent glances, questions, and giggles directed at you make jihyo uneasy. the way you grow nervous and giggly in response to naeun’s attention strikes a nerve with jihyo, but she attempts to push down her weird feelings.  
there's a subtle tension building within jihyo, she tries to maintain her composure with nods and forced smiles. 
after the interview, all of you step out of the stage. the group gets together with the managers, but you’re pulled aside by naeun. 
about three members pay attention to the interaction: sana and nayeon, who are the ones that stand closest to you, and jihyo is eavesdropping, trying to subtly listen in. 
naeun tugs on the fabric of your top, earning your attention and a warm smile. 
“hi y/n, i’m a big fan of you—and your groups’ music.” she says, grin spread across her face.  
“oh, thank you so much.” you respond, bowing down slightly at her. 
“i was just wondering, um, i think you’re beautiful.” she says shyly, “and you seem sweet too. would it be alright if we exchanged numbers? i'd love to talk to you more.” 
your cheeks flush at the sudden question, you nod eagerly, nonetheless. naeun hands you her phone and you type your number in, making her smile brightly at you. you smile back the same. 
“thanks y/n, you’re cute. we should grab a coffee sometime?” 
“oh, yeah, i'd love that. sure, yes.” you answer.  
naeun smiles at you once more before waving and heading back to jaehyun. when you turn around, sana and nayeon are raising their brows at you teasingly.  
sana nudges your shoulder with hers and giggles, making an “ooo” sound. you roll your eyes at her, then nayeon joins in on the teasing. 
“oh she was totally hitting on you. look's like y/n has some admirers?” nayeon’s remark earns a wave of dismissal.  
“she probably just wanted to be friends and stuff, stop thinking so hard.” 
“or maybe you need to think harder. she called you beautiful and wants to take you out, basically.” hearing sana say that earns a dust of pink on your cheeks, you shove her playfully. “y/n is blushing~” 
“i’m not! stop that.” you groan, but the smile on your face makes it evident that the idea interests you. 
jihyo eyes the three of you bickering, a frown finding its way to her lips. could naeun really be asking you out? and you—are you really going to do it? the thoughts frustrate jihyo, she decides to turn away and focus on anything else, joining in on the maknae’s conversations. 
but the thought lingers in her mind: could you really be considering this? and why does it bother jihyo so much? 
daniel invites jihyo over again and everything is the same as always. jihyo steps in and he kisses her as a greeting, jihyo kisses him back, placing a hand on his shoulder. she pulls away first, she always does. 
he suggests a movie and some snacks, to which jihyo responds with a “sure,” because she doesn’t know what else she could possibly do with him these days. he sits down on his couch, turns on the tv, and pats down a space for jihyo. it's weird, she doesn’t immediately lean into his touch, instead he initiates something and jihyo tends to reciprocate. 
daniel talks over the movie playing, something about the solo he’s working on and some recent schedule changes, but the woman in his arms isn’t listening. daniel frowns, bringing a hand to her cheek and turning her face so that she’s facing him. 
jihyo almost flinches, pulls away from his touch.  
(but she doesn’t, because what would that mean for them?) 
“you alright? is something on your mind?” he asks, snapping her back to reality. 
jihyo's eyes widen slightly, she eases away from his hand, then shakes her head. 
“oh, sorry, just... the recent comeback.” 
“ah, i see, i get it.” daniel says, giving her a little look of sympathy – jihyo can’t tell if it’s genuine, though. he smirks, the corner of his lip tugs up a bit, then suggests something as he puts a hand back on her cheek, “i know a way to get your mind off things, to get our minds out the gutter.” 
and just like almost every moment with him, jihyo finds his lips on hers. she reciprocates – hesitantly – then gives in. it’s slow and whatnot at first, then daniel starts to get bold and plays with the hem of her shirt. before he can get further, jihyo pulls away, her hand on his chest and eyes partially closed. 
“daniel i—um, we should take it slow. can we continue the movie?” 
he looks at her confused, then furrows his brows. “oh, okay?” 
daniel gets off of her and fights back a frown, but still, he settles by putting an arm back around her and pulling her close. the movie still plays, it’s not the most interesting but it’s better than anything with daniel. thirty minutes fly by and the movie still plays, though jihyo’s mind is elsewhere, probably thinking of you. when she turns to the left, she notices that daniel is asleep, almost too quickly despite what had just happened. 
jihyo shrinks away from him, she fights back tears, wanting to leave and return to the dorms—anyplace where you’re nearby.  
— 
a book is in your hand, you’re reading some novel that your friend had shipped from the states. thankfully, you could read more than just literature in korean, works in english are great.  
you're hunched over a bit, reading the book that sits under the glow of the lamp at your desk until you hear a knock. when you open the door, jihyo stands there, looking terrible.  
“jihyo? what are you—hey, are you okay?”  
she sighs, then looks at you pleadingly. you let her in with no questions asked, sitting down on your bed and patting down a space for her. she sits down next to you, leaning against your shoulder, a tear spills from her right eye. with your thumb, you rub it away, cupping her face gently. 
“do you want to talk about it?” 
“later.” 
“okay. do you want to stay here tonight?” 
... 
“yes.” 
“okay.” 
you turn off the lamp on your desk and place a bookmark in between the pages of your book, then close it. jihyo lies down first, and then you slip into the sheets no later.  
“come closer, please.” jihyo practically pleads, to which you respond with a hum. 
the two of you stare at each other, barely able to see each other in the dark, but still making out features and expressions. there's no words exchanged throughout any of it, jihyo just stares and stares until she puts a hand on your forearm. and then you feel that it’s right to dip a foot in the water, placing your hand above her waist and applying a little pressure to move her closer to you. jihyo scoots over a bit, then moves her hand over your body, pushign herself closer and into the crook of her neck. 
she feels herself relax in your presence, not wanting to let go or create more distance between the two of you. the warmth in her chest is completely foreign from whatever she feels around daniel, she wants to stay in this position with you forever, she’d much rather be like this with you than daniel.  
and then she hears you mutter a, “goodnight,” the tremor of your voice sending a shiver down her spine and making her feel all tingly. jihyo thinks that she could spend years in your embrace, just this moment alone makes her think that all that time with daniel was a waste if she had the ability to just barge into your room and stay close. 
— 
when jihyo wakes up, she catches you applying a light layer of makeup. you're focused on the mirror, attentive to the detail. 
she watches you for a moment more and decides to sit up when you rummage for some jewelry in your drawer. you catch her in the corner of your eye and turn to her, smiling. 
“good morning.” 
“are you headed somewhere?” jihyo asks, because it’s only eight thirty in the morning when she checks her phone and you’re already up and running, despite having nothing on your schedules. 
“remember naeun? she invited me out for breakfast, then we were going to... i don’t know, just spend until the afternoon together.” jihyo might cry, she feels her heart sink at your words. 
you look beautiful, and the thought of naeun seeing you like this, spending time with you, making you laugh? it strikes something in the leader. she watches you put on a necklace, silently processing everything. too many possibilities and worries run through jihyo’s head. you've just held her in your arms, comforted her and slept in the same bed with her, practically tangled together—and now, you’re going on a little date. 
“hey, you alright? you look like you’re in a daze.” you say, looking at jihyo curiously. 
“sorry, just tired still.” 
“then you should sleep more.” you suggest, “sleep in, you can stay in my bed.” 
“when are you going out with naeun?” 
“soon, like basically now—oh, did you want to talk about what was troubling you? i’ll postpone or cancel if you--” 
“no, no.” jihyo says. she shakes her head and purses her lips. “go have fun, i'm just going to sleep a little more.” 
you examine her a little, narrowing your eyes at the woman in your bed and trying to pinpoint any hint of, well, anything. you can’t really pick out what’s going on or what might be troubling her, so you decide to let it go for now. 
“let me know if you need anything, okay? i’ll respond right away.” your response kills her inside, knowing that you’re out of reach, despite your words, and who else is she supposed to tell about her troubles? how she felt about daniel and you; she can’t even figure out her own feelings. 
you sit down on the bed and brush a strand of hair back, fixing her tousled hair. your eyes go from her eyes to her lips, then to her hand that you now hold. you squeeze lightly, then look her in the eye again. 
“i’ll be back in the afternoon, okay? let me know if you need anything. just because you’re the leader doesn’t mean you don’t have your own feelings. text me, love you.” 
jihyo gulps, and when you let go of her hand, she fights the instinct to reach back for yours. 
naeun shows up wearing her hair up in a ponytail. she has on a long black coat over her white top, beige slacks, and whtie sneakers. she's pretty, there’s no doubt. 
breakfast with her goes smoothly. you order fluffy pancakes with fruit, a simple latte, and indulge in two pieces of dark chocolate on the side. naeun opts for two pieces of french toast, a side of fruit, and a cup of tea. as you engage in small talk, you find her anecdotes and jokes genuinely amusing, often catching yourself covering your mouth to stifle laughter. her occasional flirtatious remarks elicit smiles from you, though you can't help but notice a slight detachment from the warmth you'd normally feel in such situations—but at the same time, this is your first... date?  
the two of you walk down the streets and find yourself in alleyways, simply talking and taking a few pictures here and there. time with her is nice, but it’s weird feeling so... normal with her. your heart doesn’t do flips, you’re not blushing as much as you figured you would, and it feels like you’re hanging out with a friend rather than on a date. maybe that’s what this is. 
naeun calls a ride around noon, saying something is on her schedule at two. you nod, understanding her reason of departure. she smiles at you, you smile back, and then she furrows her brows a bit, still grinning. 
  “i spotted some cameras around us, we’ll probably be on some headlines.” she says, fixing her bangs absentmindedly. “i’d kiss you if they weren’t here, you look adorable right now.” 
maybe it was a date. 
you smile shyly, feeling your face burn at the bold statement. “probably, that’s fine though. and thank you.” 
she laughs softly and it has a nice ring to it. “let’s see each other again sometime, i enjoyed this.” 
“me too.” 
“i’ll see you, y/n.” 
“yeah, see you.” 
when she gets into the car, you wave at her, then immediately, your attention is back on your phone. jihyo had lingered in the back of your mind the whole date, you figure it’s because she seemed to have a hard time earlier. there are no new messages other than a text from your mom, a few notifications from the group chat with your members, and texts from naeun that you never got to read—she found you right after she texted anyway, there was no need to respond. 
nothing from jihyo, unfortunately. you find it strange that you went all this time (three hours) without hearing a single thing from her. it makes you frown slightly, but you shake it off for the time being and call a ride back to the dorms. 
when you get back to the dorms, jihyo isn’t there. you're dissapointed after hearing mina tell you that she’s out for lunch with daniel, jihyo never told you she’d be out for lunch.  
mina eyes you while you take off your jacket. “you were out on a date?”  
“how’d you know?”  
“little article or something that nayeon sent to the group chat, ‘april’s naeun and twice’s y/n spotted grabbing brunch together.’” she says, reading off her phone. “nayeon and sana were teasing you as well.” 
you sigh. “of course they were.”  
“well, did you have fun?” mina asks you, raising a brow. “do you like her?” 
it takes you a moment to respond, you have to think about it. 
“she’s nice.” 
“so you like her...?” 
“maybe. i guess we’ll have to go out more to figure that out.” 
“hm.” she looks at you, it seems that she’s trying to figure out something. “okay.” 
you don’t question the uncertainty in her look; instead, you walk over to your room, deciding to lie down and reenergize.  
-- 
as your outings with naeun become more frequent, you find yourself with fewer opportunities to engage in meaningful conversations with jihyo, or anything jihyo related. likewise, jihyo's increased outings with daniel and her focus on work leave her with little time to dwell on the uneasy feeling in her chest whenever she sees another headline about you and naeun. it's not like you two are public about your relationship, of course you weren’t, the media would be at your throats. but still, your members know, and if jihyo knew you’d feel a little guilty. 
(you don’t know why, but that’s how you think.) 
the next comeback takes your attention away from a lot of things, takes your energy away, takes time away from only the two of you – you and jihyo – not anyone else. 
the distance between you and jihyo seems to grow with each passing day, overshadowed by the presence of others in your lives. there's a weird gap between you two, you seem to talk to anyone but each other these days. 
-- 
[1:05am]  
you: are you awake? 
jihyo looks at her phone after it buzzes, wondering who could possibly be texting her at this hour. she’s in the living room watching some movie, the tv there is better than her laptop. she picks up her phone, looking at your contact and the contact photo of you that she had set – a picture of you before blowing out candles on your first birthday while in twice – then responds. 
[1:07am] 
jihyo: yes 
you: what are you doing? 
jihyo: on the couch watching a movie, why are you up? 
you: just not tired. had an americano earlier. 
part of you wants to mention that it was when you were with naeun, but you decide to leave it out. you don’t like to mention naeun really, not with jihyo at least. you don’t really know why, but it feels right not to. 
you: can i join? 
jihyo stares at the phone for a bit, she wouldn’t mind your company, if anything—it's been a while since the two of you have been alone. 
jihyo: come. 
you smile at your phone, you don’t usually smile at messages. 
jihyo looks away from the tv once she spots you, you’re dressed in an oversized hoodie and shorts that cut off five or six centimeters above your knee. a smile is thrown her way and that same smile tugs at the leaders' lips.  
you settle down next to her, a small, evident space in between that neither of you want there. jihyo continues the movie, pressing the “play” button and you sink back a bit, moving your hips up and lounging against the cushion. your body moves a bit when you do so, in a way that makes it so that your shoulders are touching. the small detail makes both of you concentrate on the movie more than necessary. 
a few minutes pass, then you decide that’s enough silence. your turn your head and ask, “how have you been?” it’s a simple question, really, but it still catches jihyo off guard. 
“good, you?” 
“i’m good.” you answer, and then you look at her for a moment more. “how are things with daniel?” 
jihyo tenses up a bit, the last thing she wants to think about is him. “alright. what about you and naeun?” 
“oh, yeah we’re alright.” 
the two of you stare at each other for a bit, unsure of what to say for a bit. 
your head falls to the cushion of the couch, you lean against it, keeping eye contact with jihyo before your gaze softens.  
“are we okay?”  
“what do you mean y/n?” 
“i just, miss talking to you. it feels like forever since we’ve been... alone.”  
she chuckles nervously. “i mean, i guess. the comeback has been... tiring. i'm glad we have this day off. plus, we’ve been spending time with... well, you know, our...” she wants to say lovers, but it throws her off. is lover the right word for daniel? boyfriend is, maybe, but that’s just a label. still, she doesn’t want to say that. 
"yeah," you respond, the word heavy with a tinge of disappointment. and then you stare hard at jihyo, studying her under the soft glow of the living room lights. you take in every detail—the gentle curve and sparkle of her eyes under the dimmed lights, the natural beauty of her bare face—and commit it to memory, because who knows when you’ll have time to look at her like this again. 
you realize that wow, you’ve missed this view – her, park jihyo – and part of you feels bad because you and your girlfriend naeun have spent so much time together lately, yet nothing about naeun makes you pause in place like this. your brain is tangled in a knot, you don’t know why. 
“you look really good with the red hair.” your voice is soft, it’s gentle. “you look beautiful with anything.” 
as the memory of you drunkenly complimenting her flashes through her mind, jihyo experiences a sense of déjà vu. this time you're sober, and the words you speak hold genuine sincerity.  
“thanks.” her tone appreciative. she leans into the cushion, and now your heads are at the same level, the eye contact much more... intense.  
jihyo doesn’t say half of what she’s thinking. you look great too, you always look astonishing. your current hairstyle, particularly the shorter, dark hair from this comeback, suits you remarkably well. the way the stylists style your hair, you, and just everything, jihyo tries not to stare too hard during rehearsals and filming. and now, god, especially now, now with your slightly disheveled hair, your sleepy eyes, bare face and leisured look. now with that voice of yours coaxing her to relaxation; you’re as captivating as ever. 
she feels her voice grow fainter as she answers, “you look pretty too.” 
“thanks miss leader.” you mutter lowly, which earns a giggle from the two of you. the little remark earns a dying tension that was in the air, and now your shoulders are fully touching after you scoot closer.  
your arms are linked after you make the bold move, excusing the action with an “i’m cold,” but there’s no need for an excuse because jihyo’s fine with it. if anything, jihyo’s glad that you’re all touchy like this (even if it’s just a linked arm). 
the movie that’s playing has already been ignored, acting as background noise as the two of you converse about who knows what. the only thing that matters is that you’re giggling like you used to, your cheeks are warm, and you’re starting to get a little sleepy.  
when your words start to slur, jihyo shortens her answers and talks a little less, watching as your head falls to her shoulder and feeling you shuffle into a more comfortable position. when you fall asleep jihyo doesn’t budge, instead glancing at you like you’re the most precious thing in the world and— 
it hits jihyo. there’s a striking, obvious reason that she feels the way she does towards you, why she’s been distant and hesitant with her interactions. never has her heart felt this warm or right with daniel.  
her brows crease a little when she realizes, but for now, you’re asleep and content, so maybe she should be too instead of adding another worry on top of the comeback. 
besides, she’s comfy right there with you, and you’re clearly feeling the same.  
she closes her eyes, sighing quietly, allowing one of your arms to slip behind her back and the other over her lap so you can loosely wrap around her waist. her head gently falls to rest against yours, and soon she's fast asleep, one hand nestled in your hair while the other rests against your forearm. in this peaceful moment, she finds solace in your presence, feeling content for the first time in a while. 
nayeon is still tired when she walks into the living room, but the sight of your arms lazily wrapped around jihyo’s waist, your legs messily laid out on the couch, and jihyo laid down at an awkward angle seems to wake the older member up. 
taking her phone out, she giggles, then snaps a picture that’ll be used against the two of you in the groupchat. 
(and little do you know, when both of you wake up to see the picture that’s sent, you’ll save it even if you act annoyed, both of you adding it to your favorites without letting anyone know.) 
the comeback takes up all your time and energy, having to wake up for the pre recordings, interviews, and then trying to go about your day normally like you’re not about to pass out any moment takes a toll on you.  
you've been seeing naeun for a couple of months now, of course you enjoyed spending time with her and whatnot, but when you kissed her, touched her intimately those few times or did anything romantic? it just felt... off. you didn’t mind, you’d initiate some of it, but that didn’t get rid of the fact that something was missing.  
there was the thought of jihyo doing these things with you, and you had to shake your head to get rid of that thought. jihyo doesn’t like you, not like that, and she’s with daniel. she’s probably on cloud nine with him, maybe all sappy and romantic, happy. the though of him making her feel like that makes you frown. you felt terrible when you thought like this, of jihyo – so you felt terrible most of the time – because naeun was with you, and she should be enough. she is enough, but that didn’t stop you from wishing she were jihyo sometimes. 
(all the time.) 
spending time with naeun takes a lot too, and you’re much more cranky, less talkative, and just being around her feels like it’s hurting both of you. there’s no spark anymore, even when you kiss her or when she kisses you. making out with her feels like a chore because there’s worries in the back of your mind and stress piling up. your troubles take a toll, it goes on for almost a month before naeun decides to leave what you two have as just friends. you agree without hesitation, realizing it’s the best for both of you, but you wonder why you’re not as... emotional. 
in return, jihyo knew her schedule would take the time with daniel away from her – not that she minded – which led her to make the same decision that naeun had made (but with daniel, of course. if she were with you, what could possibly lead her to break things off with you? who would ever do that?) 
when she unties the knot with daniel, it’s like a weight is lifted of her shoulders, and now the comeback doesn’t seem half as bad, it’s almost as if daniel were the reason she’s been so uptight and stressed. jihyo thinks that can’t be because—well, the person you’re with shouldn’t make you feel like that, they should make you feel relaxed and bubbly and sappy and as if your head is in the clouds. 
and that’s exactly how she feels when she gets those small moments alone with you.  
both of you are aware of the realization, yet neither wants to confront it directly, opting instead to push the mutual feelings aside.  
it lingers between you, unspoken yet palpable, as you both silently grapple with its implications, unwilling to acknowledge its weight. 
“it’ll make things really complicated and difficult, and if things go wrong then our relationship with each other could affect twice you know?”  
-- 
for the next couple of months until your next comeback, your relationship with your leader seems to creep back to its normal self.  
with the other members you’re found inching closer to the leader, it’s honestly not on purpose but by default. it just happens. 
then there’s those times where you’re alone, giggling and talking like nothing matters, like life as an idol is a breeze because really, it is when you have someone like jihyo by your side. someone you can reveal your deepest worries to, somone you can talk to without judgement, just someone you can lean on. jihyo is exactly that. 
of course the members notice, but that could just be another mina and chaeyoung situation, where you’re both close and that’s it. of course, there’s much more than just being close, hell, mina and chaeyoung are more than close these days – you’ve caught them being a little too touchy and affectionate for it to be something that’s just friends – but that’s just how they are. you and jihyo on the other hand, that’s a different case, but everyone is too occupied to really look into it, so the two of you continue to be close, closer than ever without thinking much of it. afraid to think more about what it is. 
alone time with jihyo becomes more frequent, including outings that used to be with naeun, dinner that used to be with naeun, laying in bed that used to be with naeun and... well, everything that used to be done with naeun. except each time it feels much more rewarding and tender.  
your heart does more flips than it ever did with naeun, and jihyo could say the same in regard to daniel. 
-- 
“alcohol free” is a hit, there’s no doubt about that. when there’s a hit, there's wins, and when there are wins, there is a night of celebrating. 
(karaoke for hours, drinks, more drinks, and even mrore, and then meaningless laughs and conversations between you and your members.) 
jihyo sits next to you with her second beer of the night, she can feel herself growing loose and looser. you’re still on your first beer, despite it being half full, you’re eyeing the soju on the table.  
mina's the only one not drinking, while tzuyu takes just a few sips before passing her strawberry-flavored beer to you, her eyes wary of getting too tipsy. jeongyeon, already pretty drunk, leans heavily on momo, slurring random words. everyone seems to be on their way to wasted, or simply having a great time. 
you turn to the left to see jihyo laughing away, about what? who knows. all you know is that she looks effortlessly pretty, smile lighting up the room and eyes all squinty in a way that makes your heart ache, yearn, scream, all of the above. you think that she’s looked the best this comeback (you always think that with each comeback); her cheeks are a little sun kissed from filming the music video, she seems brighter, and especially with her mid length hair, the way it frames her face so nicely, you could kiss her, maybe just a press to her cheek, and if she lets you, maybe a little more— 
nope. you can’t do that. you stop yourself from thinking further. you turn away, cheeks burning from something else that’s not alcohol, something that you don’t want to acknowledge. 
there’s the sinking feeling in your chest and now you’re a little scared that what you’ve had to drink will amplify it – it basically already has – so you slow down a bit, trying to get down from that temporary high. the pit in your stomach gets worse when you glance back at jihyo, who’s already looking at you with stars in her eyes.  
your skin tanned during the shoot, drawing some flak from a handful of netizens, but also garnering heaps of adoring, and a couple suggestive comments from others online. jihyo understands the appeal when looking at you, the tanned skin, nice features, and the dark, wavy, long hair that you’re pulling off for this album. of course, jihyo loves tzuyu, adores her really, and cares for the youngest, yet, whenever she glances your way, she can't help but think you'd fit the "visual" title just as well. maybe even better. 
she leans over a bit, just enough so that her lips graze your ear before she says, “you look cute, y/n.” 
“oh, thank you.” a giggle is added to mask the uneasiness in you before you distance yourself a bit. “i don’t feel the best, i think i might head back earlier.” 
“so soon?” she tugs at your arm, pouting. “what am i supposed to do without you here?” 
don't say that. 
you grin, it’s forced. “c’mon, you’ll be fine without me. you look like you’re having fun already.” 
“only because you’re here.” her words are a little slurred. “you make everything so... nice. yeah, that’s right, that’s the word.” 
“well, i'm glad—but i really am tired. i gotta go, you have fun okay? just think of me and... things will be nice. you're not very alcohol free.” the stupid joke is followed by a giggle, and despite how corny it is – usually jihyo would punch you lightly and roll her eyes – jihyo feels like she’s just been punched in the gut. 
you stand up and jihyo fights back the urge to pull you back, maybe into her, just close, that’s all she knows. the space next to her feels cold now, and the room feels darker as soon as you say your goodbyes. jihyo thinks it can’t get any worse, but then you move over so your lips are centimeters away from her ear, muttering a “think of me, i'll be at home” which definitely amplifies the ache in her heart. 
home, that’s where jihyo wants to be as soon as you leave the room. she wants to be with you, maybe that’s what—or who home is. 
when you get into your cab, you can’t help but think abotu jihyo more. the hurt in her face as you left, and the thought that she might like you too crosses your mind, but that can’t be, she rejected you a few years ago.  
there's still that chance that her feelings changed, just maybe she feels even the slight attraction you feel with her. your feelings never really died down, adn you realize that maybe it was wrong to get into a relationship with naeun while your feelings for jihyo were still under the surface. 
after you shower and get ready for bed – mind in a flurry the whole time – you’re bascially completely sober. you're still alone in the dorm, opting to try to organize your thoughts and conflicted feelings until you get a little notifcation on your phone.  
you reach over, squinting at the screen. 
[12:00am] 
jihyo: i wish you would’ve stayed. miss you. 
... 
[1:30am] 
y/n: miss you too. 
-- 
jihyo’s flustered and nervous, cursing at herself and practically pulling her hair out as soon as she reads the text she sent. she's at your door before you even wake up the next morning to apologize to your half-asleep self. you wave her off and mutter a sleepy “it’s fine, really,” which soothes her.  
the two of you pretend that night never happened after the apology, and then for the next year you run in circles. run around your feelings, run away from them. it's better, less complicated. 
-- 
when the two of you manage to finally come to a point in your lives where the mutual feeling isn’t eating you two up, something else decides to swoop in and bring you back to square one. 
“dates?” nayeon laughs a little. “like, wine and dine? or...” 
you laugh too because, what, a date? a vlog of... a date with one of your members. it sounds silly, but also fun at the same time. you're already on board to this “2wice date” idea that the director had suggested, and it’s one of those things that makes your job much more amusing. 
the rest of the members seem to be on board, and then you’re given the pairings, which renders you stiff in your seat. 
“nayeon and tzuyu,” the director says, making the rest of the member's giggle. the oldest and the youngest, that would be fun to watch, fun to poke at and think about. 
“mina and chaeyoung,” well, they’ve already been on dates, practically (probably) already a couple whether they know it or not. you watch chaeyoung smile like a little kid, a smile taking over. mina looks at her and a small smile tugs at her lips too. you only poke at chaeyoung. 
“sana and momo.” alright, that would obviously go fine, they’re already attached to the hip anyway and— 
the realization hits you: there’s only one pairing left. all the others are paired up, leaving you and jihyo. 
jihyo's gaze lingers on you, and for half a second you catch her eyes widening in realization before she quickly composes herself. meanwhile, you're doing your utmost to keep it together. just when you believed you had moved on from her, or at least accepted that it wasn't going to happen, all those emotions come rushing back. you're certain this revelation will keep you tossing and turning at night until the date finally arrives. 
the idea of going on a real date with her feels like cupid taking aim at your heart—but not in the traditional romantic sense. it's more like cupid wielding a gun instead of a bow, the bullet tearing your heart wide open. yeah, that's a better comparison. 
the members tease each other after everything, but out of all the pairings it’s you and jihyo who get poked at the most. you feel like your heart might burst, and jihyo feels the same. 
-- 
both of you sit on jihyo’s bed for a bit, trying to think of an idea for your date. neither of you want to admit it, but you’re both equally as giddy for this little episode. 
jihyo suggests going for a drive, some coffee, and then a garden. it seems romantic, so romantic that you wonder if it’s alright taking on this whole thing. 
“that sounds great.” you end up responding, smiling at jihyo as you say it. she purses her lips together and forms something that’s also a smile, the two of you laugh for no reason and a little spark starts a flame in your heart. 
-- 
the cameras roll, it’s time to act like you’re not about to lose your mind. you're officially on this date with the prettiest, most charming woman you know, right as that recording button had been pressed. 
“alright, let’s go for a drive.” and with that you follow jihyo, getting into the white car on the passengers side. 
you observe jihyo starting the car, paying no mind to the managers awkwardly third-wheeling in the backseat. she shoots you a smile, and all you can do is laugh, raising the camera in your hand and pointing it at her as she maneuvers out of the parking spot and hits the road. 
the car ride remains eerily quiet for a significant stretch because you simply can’t stop looking at her. jihyo doesn't seem to mind much (although deep down she does, but with cameras rolling, she has to keep her cool), and she keeps the conversation flowing, steering it towards simple, everyday topics. you manage to slip in brief responses while your eyes drink in the contours of her side profile, her beauty laid bare before you. 
“y/n, you and i. we used to spend so much time together, alone.” the sudden switch from teasing nayeon and tzuyu’s date catches you off guard. 
“yeah, especially before alcohol free, we still spend time together, no?” 
“you’ve been straying away from me these days.” of course she’s saying it jokingly, but deep down you both know that there’s a small rift starting to form as you try to run away from your feelings. “do you remember what we’d do?” 
looking out the window, you nod and say, “yeah, i remember we’d watch a lot of your shows. i never was a big movie or show person, but jihyo always managed to have me finishing multiple series’ and movies in a week.”  
the two of you giggle. “you enjoyed them though.” 
“some. you've made me sit through questionable things. it was always late at night though and i knew you had issues with sleeping, so i always said yes because i just wanted you to be well rested.” 
a small silence envelops the air before jihyo breaks it. 
“wow,” she turns to you since the light is red, her eyes appreciative. “thank you.” 
“anything for twice’s leader.” your words manage to break the ice. 
when you two get to the cafe, jihyo links her arms with yours and you almost drop the tripod holding the camera. 
your cheeks flush as you place your order, and then jihyo steps in, graciously paying for both of you with the corporate card, causing your blush to deepen. thankfully, you're wearing a mask; otherwise, fans would have a field day with this. they'd find a way to capture your flustered moments regardless, probably compiling them into a youtube compilation. 
there's a little outside area of the cafe, so of course, the two of you find your way out there.  
“it’s so pretty outside, but my date is prettier.” jihyo says to the camera, making you push her gently. 
“oh god, you’re being quite the romantic.” 
“why wouldn’t i my love?” jihyo teases, using the pet name that makes you cringe inwardly. but deep down, you can't deny that a part of you secretly adores it, even though you all pretend to be grossed out by it when the cameras are rolling. 
you roll your eyes before posing on a bench for jihyo, laughing at the way she positions herself in order to get a perfect angle of you. 
(jihyo thinks that every angle of you is more than perfect.) 
after jihyo finishes snapping pictures and showering you with compliments as if she's actually your girlfriend—though she isn't, and you have to constantly remind yourself that this is all for the sake of that little date episode—you switch roles. now, you're the one capturing moments, aiming your camera at her. you're in awe, wanting to preserve each shot you take on your little film camera, each one is worthy of being framed in a museum.  
“you’re beautiful,” you accidentally say out loud, which makes jihyo blush in return. there's no chance that’s getting cut out. 
and then you’re back in the car, but before you walked over you made sure your arms were linked, locking them tightly as if she’ll float away. jihyo gets into the driver's side and you make a small comment about being her passenger princess. 
“passenger princess?” 
“it’s a funny little thing, never heard of it?” 
"you can be a princess all the time, not just when you're my passenger, my love," jihyo says, but immediately cringes as the words leave her mouth—not because she dislikes the term of endearment, but because it feels a bit too intimate in front of the cameras. then, the two of you burst into laughter, as if it were the funniest thing in the world. you figure the more she says “my love” the more you’ll get used to it, maybe even crave hearing it when the cameras aren’t rolling and in your dorms, as normal. 
the final destination is some water garden, it’s beautiful out. the two of you find a little table to sit on and decide to have a deeper conversation there. 
your heart does a flip, a tumble, and almost beats out your chest when jihyo says, “i’ve always been really captivated by you.” 
“what?” 
“i’m serious. i mean, all of twice, they’re all special to me, but you’ve always stood out, especially these days.” 
“yeah?” 
“yeah.” jihyo affirms. 
you flash her a grin, then quickly turn away, attempting to compose yourself. deep down, you know the editors will have a field day with how much of a nervous wreck you are, but you try not to let it show. 
“you’re one of the prettiest people i've laid eyes on, you know? ever since i first met you on sixteen.” you admit suddenly, looking down. “everything about you has caught my attention since then, you’ve only grown brighter these days.” 
“is that so?” 
you nod. “i mean, everyone has been brighter. these days, everyone seems to be close and happy, i'm glad.” you pause, and jihyo waits for you to continue. “i’m just really glad we’re happy these days. i've done everything i can to keep everything from being complicated.” 
the realization hits, she makes complete eye contact with you as you say it. your eyes stare hard into hers, like daggers pointing at her. and then you look down again, playing with your hands. 
"sometimes, i don't know, i feel a little overwhelmed with how i feel and everything, but after spending time with you like this," your words now directed solely at jihyo, a shift she can clearly sense as her heart tightens. "i start to think that maybe... maybe it's okay if things are complicated. because we've dealt with complicated stuff before and managed to work through it. but sometimes i still avoid things and it makes the feelings worse. sometimes, you have to complicate things to reach an outcome that'll make everything alright. i think about that a lot, but i'm not sure if i'm wording it right. i think i want to complicate things now that i think about it.” 
you're not sure if any of what you're saying will make the final cut, and even if it does, the viewers might not grasp the real meaning. but as jihyo's eyes soften while she looks at you, you find yourself locking eyes with her again. there's a silent understanding passing between you, and suddenly, your words seem to resonate on a deeper level, shifting the atmosphere. jihyo understands, and in that moment, it's as if her heart breaks free from its constraints. 
“i think you’re right y/n. maybe complicating things is worth the trouble.” 
“yeah.” is all you can say.  
a brief silence settles, but it's far from uncomfortable. you share a smile with jihyo, and a few seconds pass before the two of you effortlessly shift the conversation back to discussing your fellow members and how both of you have grown over time. 
in that lingering silence, there's a final understanding, unspoken yet palpable. you realize that this moment, right here, is probably the most content you've felt in a while. and judging by the serene expression on jihyo's face, she feels the same way too.  
minutes later, you snap the final pictures, finding a swinging seat by the water to settle on. jihyo leans against your shoulder, and a sense of warmth and contentment washes over you. as the managers stand in front of the two of you, holding your film camera and waiting for a pose, jihyo moves away slightly and then leans her head back against you. with a soft smile, she puts up a little peace sign, and you instinctively mirror her gesture as your heads gently touch. 
a rush of confidence floods through you, emboldening your actions. you turn your head slightly so you can whisper into jihyo's ear, "can i kiss you? on the cheek." 
she turns to you in surprise, her face almost meeting yours due to the proximity, then nods with a slight flush on her face. "yes, of course you can." 
for the next picture, your lips gently land on jihyo's cheek, your hand instinctively cupping the other side of her face to draw her closer. jihyo smiles big, the happiness evident in her expression and pink cheeks. there's no doubt that once this picture is developed, the two of you will spend a good amount of time gazing at it, admiring the moment captured on film. 
“i’m happy we got paired.” you admit, the camera capturing your words. 
“me too, i'm really glad.” jihyo responds 
-- 
you and jihyo don’t talk much after the date, when you reach the dorms, jihyo is afraid to say anything really. this is the first time she’s had to think so much about, well, the two of you for the first time in a while. 
“that was a lot of fun.” you simply say trying to ease the tension. “it was lovely.” 
“i liked it a lot.” 
you nod, and look at her, searching in her eyes for something. “are you okay?” 
“i’m fine, y/n.” her tone is unsure, a little apprehensive. 
“right, okay.” you narrow your eyes at her, then sigh. “i’ll be in my room, if you... need anything.” 
jihyo doesn’t utter a word, instead she lets you walk away, watching you turn back to meet her as you step inside. 
a wave of emotions crashes over you, and a part of you—perhaps all of you—wants to cry. the date wasn't bad, but now everything feels... strange. it's not uncomfortable, but you can't shake the feeling that maybe jihyo didn't quite understand what you were trying to say during your ramblings. maybe she was just being polite, playing along, and she'll give you a gentle talk later. 
flopping onto your bed, you close your eyes and rub your face with your hands, feeling the weight of uncertainty pressing down on you. you resist the urge to tear your hair out, but the turmoil inside you remains, leaving you feeling lost and unsure of what comes next. what could possibly happen after this? after acknowledging years of these unspoken feelings, you really can’t pinpoint a— 
you shoot up from your bed at the sound of a knock on your door. you quickly run through the possibilities—nayeon is out with momo, and tzuyu has a shoot—leaving you with one answer. 
it's jihyo, it’s definitely jihyo.  
unsure why, you’re a bit scared. she's at your door waiting, all you have to do is open it and figure out what might happen next. the anticipation grills you. 
you open it, looking down a bit to see jihyo. 
“y/n.” 
“hey, are you—” 
“i can’t keep doing this anymore.” she says, looking and sounding conflicted. “after today i realized that, i don’t know, i really love you.” she pauses, waiting for you to say something, anything. when you don’t, she continues. “all these years, i was a fool for saying all that, you know, the professionalism and complications. i realize now that it only made things worse and, gosh, years, years, i've been fighting back how i felt about you. how i still feel about you and, this whole date thing—y/n, i can’t imagine waiting any longer or fighting back anything any longer.” 
everything that jihyo says seems like a fever dream, part of you doesn’t believe she’s saying all of this. you're frozen in place, staring at her with your jaw dropped a little, wanting to say something, anything, but you can’t. 
“please say something, i know you felt this way about me initially and--” 
“kiss me.” you interject, shakign your head in disbelief. “just--” 
jihyo doesn’t wait for another word from you. in an instant, she closes the distance between you, and oh my god, her lips are soft, she's perfect. it's surreal— you're kissing park jihyo, the culmination of years of inner turmoil, fighting against your own desires. everything you've daydreamed of and hoped for is finally happening, and it's even more incredible than you imagined. it's all so right. 
you close your eyes tight, afraid that if you open them she’ll be gone and this will all unfold into a dream. but you feel her hands on your cheek and it proves that yeah, this is all real. you can’t help but smile, jihyo feels it as you kiss her. she feels herself smiling against you too. 
stumbling back a little, jihyo closes the door behind the two of you before you both fall backwards onto your bed. she pulls away from the kiss to catch her breath properly, and you can barely open your eyes in the haze of the moment. but when you finally manage to, you see her smiling down at you like you're the most precious thing in the world, like you're everything she's needed this whole time and honestly, you are. 
all those years of uncertainty, but she was always certain about you. no matter how hard she tried to push it down, it was you she needed. and now, it's real—nothing is complicated anymore, who cares if it’s anything even close to unprofessional or complicated. you don’t, that’s for sure. 
you hold her in place by her hips, gently keeping her in place before eagerly catching her lips again, cupping her cheek as you kiss her deeply. you never want to pull away, never want to stay apart from her from now on.  
all those years of pining, and despite how conflicted you felt, it was all worth it if it meant jihyo kissing you now, and by the end of the night: in your arms.  
everything was worth it if it meant her in the end. 
394 notes · View notes
withlovemark · 10 months
Text
all of the moments that led me to you.
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warning: steve's black eye (nothing new), violence, mentions of blood, a fight between steve x billy
pairing: steve x reader, light billy x reader (not really, this isn't a love triangle lol)
words: 4.5k+
summary: the title speaks for itself -- a series of moments with steve harrington
an: i was going to post everything as one fic but i kind of hit writer's block in the middle of year 1985 so i'll post this for now instead and hopefully gain some inspiration to continue :)
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yr. 1984
i. the first meeting ft. dustin henderson
the words “code red” hitting your ears every five seconds, the stomping of feet running around the house, the back door opening and closing several times - babysitting is weird. not one kid is ever the same, some are easy-going, others can be a real pain in the ass. 
you hoped you got an easy kid today. one that just stays in front of the television, binging on crackers and occasionally asking for your help. obviously, you were wrong. 
if it wasn’t for the fact that it pays well while simultaneously allowing you to do some of your own studies and looking good on your college resume, you wouldn’t even be here.
but you are here. seated inside the henderson household. 
“hey y/n, can you please drive me to my friend mike’s house?,” dustin runs into the living room, an exasperated expression on his face, interrupting your reading. 
“are you okay?” you ask, worried about the kid you just met when his mother called an hour ago trailing on about how she saw your babysitting flyer some time back. and even though she knew that she had to book a date at least two days beforehand, she still asked if you could watch over her son. 
“just for today” she said, as she needed to look for her missing cat. her promise of double pay, convincing you to accept her request. 
“i’m fine, i just really need you to drive me to mike’s,” dustin says hurriedly, eyes hopeful that you wouldn’t ask anymore questions. 
“why?” you ask and the boy’s shoulder slumps, doing his best to not roll his eyes at your persistence. he’s obviously not used to  asking for permission. 
“i uhm forgot my book there and i really, really need it to study for my exam tomorrow,” he sends you a toothy grin, trying to convince you that that was all there is to it. you’re no fool. you notice the slight change in his voice, his fingers anxiously playing with his pockets, right leg slightly bouncing up and down - indications that he’s lying.
“you know your mom’s not paying for my gas, right?” you reason, not wanting to give in to his request and hoping you could just have a calm afternoon.
dustin sighs, his smile disappearing, “fine. i’ll just go behind your back and bike there and if i end up missing or in a ditch somewhere then it’ll be your fault,” he counters, personality quickly switching from the boy who said “please.” 
you sat there, flabbergasted, “are you…blackmailing me right now?” an eyebrow raising, you couldn’t believe how diabolical the curly headed boy is. 
“i’m not blackmailing you. i’m simply telling you what's going to happen if you don’t drive me,” he smiles, an almost devilish smile, tone hardening with every word and you truly do not know whether you’re terrified or impressed. 
letting out a quiet chuckle, you shake your head, “alright, c’mon kid,” you say, grabbing your car keys off the table, “but we’re going back as soon as you get it.”
——
you should’ve known not to trust him, finding yourself hurriedly getting into the back seat of the car of the last person you ever expected to interact with - steve harrington. 
pushing his forgotten red roses towards the other end of the car, you take your seat in the middle. 
“wh-what are you doing?” dustin turns from the passenger seat, facing you as steve takes in your presence, eyes on his rearview mirror, a confused expression evident on his face. 
“y/n l/n?,” he questions, finally remembering where he has seen you before, “you’re in nancy’s grade?,” he asks, more a question for himself than you. 
you nod, “steve harrington,” acknowledging his presence for the first time. 
 “why are you with dustin?” he wonders. he didn’t know much about you. only that you and nancy were sometimes studying in the library together. she’s told him before that you always get the top grades in class and she wanted to be around more motivated people like you. 
“i’m his babysitter and i’m coming with,” you simply answer his question, keeping the explanation short. it’s weird enough that you were inside the car of hawkin high’s famous “king.”
“since when did you have a babysitter dude,” steve reverts his attention back to dustin. 
“i'll explain later,” dustin reassures him quickly before turning back to you,  “and uhm, you don’t have to come, i have steve now,” he points to the guy in the driver seat like you don’t see him. 
from what you’ve heard about steve, you’re not sure you trust leaving the young boy with him. he’s known for being notorious, having bad company and overall, just a guy with the money, the looks and the popularity that somehow has every girl wanting him and every boy wanting to be him. you’re not sure how that guy can be trusted with kids.
subconsciously, you eye steve suspiciously, causing him to put two hands up in surrender “hey, i have no idea what’s happening either,” he defends, shrugging nonchalantly. 
snapping out of your daze, you focused your attention back on dustin, “look dustin, steve isn’t the one being paid to watch you right now,” you start to explain.
“hold on, you’re getting paid for this?” the older boy interrupted.
you ignore him, attention still on dustin, “if something were to happen to you, your mom would be looking for me. i’m responsible for you kid, i-,”
“fine! there’s no time,” he cuts you off, obviously in a rush. 
“you can come, just,” dustin contemplates, already regretting the words that slipped from his lips, “just don’t blame me for getting you into this thing.”
at that, steve snaps back to reality, “wait, wait, wait, if this ‘thing’ is about ‘that’ then she definitely can NOT come,” steve declared, his voice laced with a seriousness you didn’t think he could have. 
“well, are you going to drag her out of the car so she doesn’t find out about this thing?,” the younger boy replies, a sarcastic tone evident on his lips. 
“guys, i can hear you,” you piped in, eyes going back and forth between the two boys, having absolutely no clue what they’re referring to. 
“dustin, im not joking ok!,” steve ignores you, “we can’t tell people about this,” a serious expression appearing on his face, one you’ve never seen on him before, “we’ll get in trouble, you know that. besides, we shouldn’t involve anyone else into this anyway!,” he protested. 
he didn’t sound like the steve you would hear about at school. he sounded responsible, protective. he sounded like…a babysitter. 
“i know that steve, that’s why i told her to leave!,” dustin shouted. 
“well, she’s clearly still sitting in the backseat of my car!,” steve’s voice raises with every syllable. 
“can someone just explain what’s happening?” you try butting in, rolling your eyes, completely fading into the background as they continue their bickering.
“i don’t see YOU trying to do anything about it!,” dustin throws the argument back to steve, his patience on thin ice.
“she’s YOUR babysitter!,” steve points out yet again, ears turning red, veins popping and finally pushing the young boys’ limit. 
“fuCK!, we don’t have time for this steve, we really have to go NOW!” dustin shouts, losing his temper. 
steve, ready to reprimand him, before you decide you’ve had enough.
the series of “thing” and “this” has your mind spinning and your curiosity getting the best of you.  
“SHUT UP!” gaining the two boys’ attention, their bodies turning towards you, “both of you. shut. up.” you enunciate, loud and clear.  
“i promise i won’t blame you…or you,” glancing at the two boys, “for whatever the hell this thing is…just put your seatbelts on and drive,” ending their argument as you sat behind the passenger seat, clicking your own seatbelt into place. 
steve gives up, letting out a sigh, “fuck it,” before finally stepping on the gas. 
ii. the babysitters and an angry billy hargrove
you should have never picked up mrs. henderson’s call and you definitely shouldn’t have agreed to babysitting. what was the point of having your own terms and conditions when you didn’t even follow them yourself?
you should, however, have listened to steve and dustin when they told you to leave.
the day isn’t even over yet and you’re already questioning everything you knew. in a span of a couple of hours, you have been introduced to a world you couldn’t even imagine. having to pinch yourself a couple of times to make sure you weren’t just dreaming. 
everything was strange. 
you’ve spent the whole afternoon dropping meat, trying to bait something called a demogorgon. met steve’s spiked bat. got questioned regarding your relationship with billy hargrove from his very own red headed step-sister. came face to face with the said demogorgon, who, by the way, had demogorgon friends and were actually a pack of demodogs. almost died in a junkyard. walked in the dark woods just to end up in a creepy laboratory. felt the awkward tension between steve, nancy and jonathan. understood why will byers was called the zombie boy. stood behind steve while holding a random kitchen knife you grabbed from the byers’ kitchen — and to top it all off, encountered a little girl who flung the finally, very dead demogorgon through the window then unlocked the front door, all using only her mind. 
in conclusion, monsters and superpowers aren’t just a thing people read in their comic books.
“how are you holding up?” steve breaks you out of your thoughts, your eyes snapping to his voice. 
everyone else has left, leaving you the only two teenagers to act as the adults once again. 
the strangest thing of all of this was somehow, steve harrington went from being the popular jock to a guy whose simple presence can provide you comfort. everything you knew about him has changed. 
it’s amazing what shared trauma could do. 
you shoot him a small smile, “well, i definitely wasn’t expecting all this,” you look around the mess around you, “to be a part of that thing” you refer back to the boys’ banter, trying to keep the energy light despite everything that happened. 
he gives you a sheepish smile,  almost like he was sorry, regretting that he allowed you to be a part of this. 
“it’s not your fault. i chose to come,” you say, reading his thoughts and putting an end to them. 
“where did you put the demogorgon?” you continue, changing the subject, reassuring him that you were ok. at least, as much as anyone could be ok in this situation. 
“we stuffed it in the fridge,” he shakes his head, arms crossing, like he couldn't believe it himself, “‘for science’ dustin said,” steve quotes the younger boy with a grin.  
“right, of course, all the important things,” you chuckled, matching his grin as the two of you continued to clean the broken fragments that have scattered around the house. 
you thought it was over, that you could all just wait for everything else to unfold in peace but after a few minutes of silence, the kids were back on their feet, ready to "get off the bench.” you’re not sure how steve has the energy to continue arguing with them when you’re completely exhausted. 
the sound of an engine brings a silence to the house, max running towards the blinds recognizing the car that has made an appearance in the driveway, “shit, it’s billy, he can’t see me,” she says frantically, eyes meeting yours, a silent call for help. 
“i got it, just hide,” you hushly ordered, quickly making your way to the front porch. steve tried pulling you back but you were out the door before anyone could protest, resulting in him looking through the peephole. 
billy’s momentarily confused expression at your arrival wasn’t lost on you and if you were in his shoes you’d probably have the same one on, “hey sweetheart, what are you doing here?,” his husky voice taking up space in the cold, night air.
standing a couple steps away from him, his hand immediately finds a spot on your waist, pulling you closer. you placed a hand on his chest to keep some distance between the two of you, aware of the audience you have, “i’m babysitting a kid, his friend lives here,” you explain, smiling sweetly at him, hoping that he won’t suspect anything and leave as soon as he came. 
“have you seen my sister?” he asks breathily, face inching closer and closer to yours, a smirk on his lips. if it was any other day, you would have enjoyed his attention, maybe even be up for some fun. right now though, you just want him as far from max as possible. 
“no, why would she be here?,” feigning innocence, you hope he believes your lie. 
“she’s been hanging out with a couple of kids here, a bunch of bad influences,” he huffed, eyes quickly glancing around you before pulling you even closer.
“i haven’t seen her, she’s probably at the arcade, have you checked?,” you hope he doesn’t hear the shakiness in your voice. 
“you know what i like about you sweetheart?,” he muttered, placing a harsh kiss below your ear, his grip on your waist starting to dig into your skin. you know he has caught you. 
“you can’t lie for shit,” pulling you away from him, gaze darkening, he howled with laughter as you followed his line of vision, seeing four kids peeking through the window — one, with very bright red hair. 
frustrated curses slip from your lips as you shoot them an angry glance before billy grabs your wrist, dragging you right behind him as he pounded on the door, coming face to face with steve. 
“harrington, am i dreaming or is that you?,” he mocks, his hold on your wrist tightening. 
“yeah it’s me, don’t cream your pants,” steve rolls his eyes, hands on his hips like a disappointed mother. 
steve notices you wince under billy’s hold, “let her go man,” he orders, taking a step towards the wider boy. 
billy focuses his attention back on you, for a second you see a feeling of betrayal flash through his eyes but that was quickly replaced with a snarled expression, like he was completely disgusted with the thought of you. 
“is there a reason why you both are here alone?” his dark voice causes goosebumps to rise throughout your body. 
you’ve heard of how violent he can be but until right now, he has never shown that side to you. 
“what are you saying?,” you almost couldn’t recognize him anymore, breath hitching in your throat. 
“are you fucking him behind my back, sweetheart?,” billy’s voice grew menacing, “you know i don’t like to share,” he continued accusing you, his free hand coming in contact with your neck, forcing you to look at him. 
“dude, no. we’re babysitting,” steve answers for you and motioning towards the kids like it’s the most obvious answer in the world.  
“you’re hurting her,” he emphasized, “just let her go,” gently stepping closer, steve has his arms slowly reaching for you, hands up, a signal that he comes in peace. 
steve hopes billy will focus his attention on him instead, just wanting to get you out of there. he feels responsible for your safety and well-being. 
“gladly…” billy shot him an evil smirk, “you can’t trust bitches anyways right, harrington?,” he scowled, violently throwing you against the wall. 
your head makes a direct impact with the concrete, causing you to fall to the ground, a whimper slipping through your lips. you hear the kids' screams and a punch being thrown as you feel your vision slipping between darkness and light.  
you make out dustin running towards you and grabbing your hand, trying to get you to sit up. a couple of unsuccessful tries, he pleads “i’ll come back okay, just stay alive,” as he makes his way back to his friends. 
the proceeding events were all a blur and it felt like you were watching it through static television. one moment you can hear victorious cheers. the next moment, you hear something break and steve is suddenly lying on the floor a couple feet away from you, bloody faced and barely breathing. billy continuously throws his punches and the kids scream in fear. you try to get up but your body betrays you, only allowing you to reach out your arm towards the brown haired boy. 
somehow, the sound of the punches halted and billy fell to the ground. a sigh of relief escapes from your lips while the slow rise and fall of steve harrington’s chest becomes the last thing you see as you completely fade into the darkness.
the next time you open your eyes is to another set of screams, waking you up from your much needed slumber, if you can even call it that. you ignore the pounding in your head as you try to regain your vision. the first thing you feel are the strong arms in front of you, acting as your seatbelt, as you try to piece it all together. 
a couple minutes of confusion later, you finally recognize what’s happening, joining steve in full babysitter mode. the yelling of “no’s!,” and “stop the car’s!,” filling the tiny vehicle. 
“great, now they’re both awake!, i told you we should have just left them!,” mike cursed dustin annoyingly. 
“we were not going to leave them there, mike!,” dustin retorted, “c’mon guys i promised you’ll be cool, okay? just calm. down,” he softly ordered, like he was the babysitter and you two were his children. 
you scoff, “dustin, don’t fucking tell me to calm down!,” somehow fearing for your life now more than ever. 
“everyone just shut up, i’m trying to focus!,” max yells as lucas yells the directions in her ear. 
max makes a harsh turn causing a chorus of screams to rise. your hand immediately clutching around steve’s arm, face burrowing in his neck, seeking for protection, afraid of the crash that luckily never came. 
you’re not even too sure what happened the rest of the night but somehow you all made it out unscathed, besides the fact that you and steve are probably suffering matching concussions. 
iii. the heart-to-heart
in the tiny bathroom of the byer’s house, you find yourself standing in between steve harrington’s legs. his body feels familiar now, especially after you seeked comfort in each other in the dark tunnel, the two of you thinking it would be your last breaths. in some way, the miracle happened and the screeching demogorgons ran straight past the two of you, like you weren’t even there. 
you remember looking up at his golden, brown eyes. being that close to him, you noticed how beautiful they actually are and finally understood how he has charmed every girl at school. 
‘i guess it wouldn’t have been too bad dying in steve harrington’s arms.’ you thought to yourself.  
brushing those thoughts away, you bask in the moment of solitude within the commotion that is taking place behind the bathroom door. everyone reunited here, checking up on each other.
“does it hurt?” you ask him as you gently pat the alcohol covered cotton pad around his eye, cleaning up the bits of red that have stained them.
he slightly winces, hoping you didn’t notice, “i’m fine, this isn’t my first rodeo,” he assures, sending you a wink before completely regretting the tiny action, a frown briskly replacing his smile, causing small chuckles to slip between your lips. 
“you know, you should really stop getting into fights, i could’ve sworn you had a black eye just a year ago,” you remember it like it was yesterday - steve harrington walking the halls of hawkins high without his two minions for the first time, looking like he had fallen off his throne as the hushed whispers grew louder until they finally made its way throughout the school in a matter of minutes. 
you could tell he wasn’t at all the person he was trying to be and for a second, you saw yourself in him. you wanted to get to know that steve. the steve that may understand you. but that second didn’t last long. 
“so you were watchin me?” he teases, a smirk on his lips resulting in a playful shove and an eye roll from you.
gently grabbing his chin, you stare straight into his eyes, “of course i was. you’re steve harrington,” you remind him, “everyone watches you,” stating the facts before letting go and going back to removing all the dried up blood from his pretty face. 
he clears his throat, shrugging his shoulders, playing it cool, “yeah, i guess you’re right,” he says dumbfoundedly, making you laugh. 
“you’re ridiculous,” you quietly comment, a smile still on your lips. steve focuses on your light touches, trying not to wince every time you get near his open wounds. you notice his knuckles going white, gripping the toilet seat he was sitting on and ever so gently, hurried your actions. 
“there, all clean,” you softly declare as you slip from his space, turning around and putting all mrs. byer’s first aid kit back into place. he quietly thanks you, leaning his head back a bit to rest, his eyes shutting for a second. 
“thanks, by the way,” you break the silence “for protecting me earlier… with billy and all the upside down things,” you explain, looking at steve through the mirror. he nods, not entirely sure he’s deserving of your gratitude. you protected him as much as he protected you. 
“is he always that violent with you?” steve asks, an eyebrow going up. 
you immediately shake your head,  “no, he’s never laid a hand on me, i don’t know what came over him,” you say honestly. 
“why billy hargrove?” he asks, causing you to pause your actions, paying attention to him.
“what do you mean?” you reply, turning around to face him once again, your back against the tiny kitchen sink. 
“well, you didn’t leave dustin alone even though you just started babysitting him today, you care about having seatbelts on, you immediately covered up for max and just now, you took care of me when you should be taking care of yourself,” he points out, “you’re responsible and kind and you care and, well, billy is just a huge dick,” he finished, a hand flailing in the air as you stare at him, stunned at his observations.
you compose your thoughts for a while, not at all ready to have a heart to heart with steve harrington in a bathroom. 
instead, you throw the question back at him, “why nancy wheeler?” 
“you cannot possibly be comparing billy to nancy,” he replies quickly, a disapproving tone laced in his voice.
“i’m not,” you say defensively, “i’m just saying, she hurt you too but you’re still with her, you-”
“i-i don’t know if we’re actually still together,” he sadly replies, cutting you off, eyes dropping to the floor and you think back to the woods earlier that night — nancy emerging with jonathan right by her side. 
“but you still love her,” you continue, “even though she’s hurt you, you still love her,” you finish, trying to make a point.
“so, you’re in love with billy?” he concludes.
you scoff, wanting to say yes and finally drop the subject but the mere thought of agreeing with that sentence makes you visibly wince. 
“god no, i’ve been on a couple dates with the guy, it’s far from love,” earning an even more confused steve to face you. 
“i don’t know if it’s because i got my brains punched out or i really am just dumb but i completely lost you there,” he admit, a tiny smile on his lips and all you could do is sigh. 
heart to heart talk it is. 
“you’re not dumb, i just-” taking a deep breath, you prepare yourself.
“we all have our own reasons why were with someone,” you begin, “i’m just so tired of the perfect good girl image that has been imposed on me, it's like people just see me as that and nothing else,” as soon as you start, the dam breaks, flowing. 
you find yourself entrusting your deepest thoughts to him, “i can’t be fun because good girls aren’t supposed to be, i go to parties and people are confused that i'm there. you know, i even joined the cheerleading team so people can see me as something more? but all that does is fuel the assumption that i can do everything and still get shit done...that im not capable of mistakes and bad decisions. that i’ll turn out to be something great when really i’m just so damn scared all the time,” your voice breaks but before he could comment, you cleared your throat and continued. 
“i guess being with him makes people finally see me out of my stereotype” you confess, waiting for him to say something. the silence becomes overbearing and you feel completely vulnerable under his gaze. 
“oh,” steve responds, before bursting into laughter and you feel like a complete idiot, eyebrows shifting downward. god, you’re so ready to dramatically walk out of this bathroom and slam the door against his face but before you could do that, he notices.
“hey wait,” he says, gently grabbing your arm, asking you to stay as he arranges his thoughts.
“i’m sorry, i’m just relieved that you’re not actually in love with him because you deserve a lot better than billy hargrove,” he says charmingly, his cool facade still on display. 
“i know,” you agree, stopping yourself from rolling your eyes, “is that all?” you ask, still annoyed. 
“yeah,” steve starts, “i-no,” you give him time. you know that he’s having a war in his mind right now, the same one you just had. 
he avoids your gaze, thinking to himself, until finally, he puts his defenses down, “i understand you,” he confesses. 
“if it makes you feel better, it’s not at all greener on this side, i wished people looked at me less, i wish i didn’t have to go to all these parties just for people to respect me,” steve rattled on, feeling the weight fall off his shoulders with every word that falls off his lips, his facade disappearing bit by bit.
“i completely gave up on school because everyone has already expected me to fail and i started to believe them…it’s tiring having to pretend i’m this ‘king’ steve,” he quotes, “when really i am spiraling and have no fucking clue what i even want in life...i’ll probably just end up having a stupid job i hate and being as bitter as my father,” he sadly chuckles.  
“i’m just as scared as you,” he ends with a small smile, eyes meeting yours. he feels lighter after having said it all out loud for the first time and he can’t quite comprehend how he feels so safe sharing his saddest truths with you. 
but as you cast him a kind smile, the words “fuck stereotypes,” making its way to his ears, he can’t help but be thankful for the spilled truths and ajar doors. 
steve mirrors your expression and you’re glad you finally got to meet him. not “playboy” steve harrington and definitely not steve “the king” harrington. 
just steve. 
-
next: yr. 1985 (to be written)
an: a lil bridgerton reference there hehe ... thank you for reading! let me know if you're interested in reading the other moments i had planned :)
feel free to inspire me by dropping your thoughts, comments, suggestions, etc. here <3
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