#help ive been singing this all morning | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

trashmouth-richie · 1 year

Text

Eddie x fem! reader [vol i, vol ii, vol iii, vol iv]

⚠️trigger warnings: mentions of a exual assault, accusations, mentions of domestic abuse, teenage drinking, panic attacks etc

w/c: 7.9k

a/n: s/o to all my favorite people helping me continuously with this series! @agentmarvel @sweetsweetjellybean @jo-harrington !! 💋💋💋💋💋

You’re spinning, spinning, spinning. If you couldn’t smell your own hair products on your pillow, you would swear that you were in a dystopian world, twirling like a frisbee through a pink blossomed sky and being caught in a three headed cat's mouth.

It’s true, hangovers get worse with age, but you were only twenty one— and they’re supposed to go up from here? What happened to ‘the best years of your life’? Whoever said that should be shot and killed on site. Stupid bastard.

Opening your eyes seems like the worst idea you could do, so you don’t. You slowly let your other senses bring you back to reality. You recognized that you were in your bed. Something soft is wrapped around you and judging by the feel of the fabric between your fingers it’s your robe.

A pungent smell of sour bile presents on your breath, one whiff of it and it’s instantaneous: vomit.

Fuck, that would explain the burning in your throat and the graveling dry sensation in your mouth

Pieces of the puzzle that was last night start fitting into place in your mind.

The drinks. The shots. The food. The clinking sound of ice in Steve’s Bloody Mary as he tipped it back and the ice swam towards his teeth, is like nails on a chalkboard.

Oh Christ how there had been so many drinks. Damn Robin and her mischievous ideas for wanting to do shots. Memories of the fiery tingle of the top shelf vodka Steve insisted on having, hitting your lips is enough to make you pass out.

The hollow feeling in your stomach gets queasy as you remember the greasy bar food served at Louie’s. Your stomach quenches, clutching around itself, ridding its salmon colored lining of the disastrous evening.

But nothing comes up. Just heaving dryly in your bed as tears escape your eyelids and your feet hit the floor. Throwing your body into a whirlwind of dizzy flips— your brain swimming in a sea of Diet Coke and Malibu, membranes bursting with the carbonated bubbles.

You’ve never needed a toothbrush more than you do right at this very second. You stand and the world feels like its raging war on your head. Pulsing and throbbing, like a concert was playing in your head and the guitar solo never ended.

You open your door and are met with the thought of how the fuck did you get here last night? Fuck it, you’d ask questions later, for now you needed to empty your bladder and brush your teeth.

As soon as you lay a hand on the bathroom door, Eddie emerges from his bedroom. Sweatpants are riding dangerously low on his hips and purpling hickies decorate his neck. He’s rubbing his eyes but when he catches sight of you he smiles lazily.

“Holy hell,” Eddie quips, eyes scanning over your body. You robe is hanging loosely off one shoulder, it’s crooked but the tie is in place covering your lower half. They land on the wild mess of hair atop your head, “normally I’d say good morning but it’s—“ he leans back into his room to look at his alarm clock, chuckling at the realization, “—two in the afternoon.”

You don’t fight Eddie for the shower, too tired and weak to argue. You fumble through the medicine cabinet finding the ibuprofen and the Disney cup with the swirly straw on the sink, filling it and taking the slick coated medicine. Swallowing harshly, your throat still raw and aching.

You settle for brushing your teeth while Eddie is in the shower. He’s singing Teen Spirit and getting louder and louder. The circles of the vigorous brushing of your teeth mixed with Eddie’s singing are making your head pound. A long look in the mirror leaves you suddenly feeling embarrassed, as if you needed to look drop dead gorgeous at every single minute you’re around him.

What the hell is going on?

“Please,” you beg, spitting the last bit of toothpaste into the sink, “for the love of everything holy— stop.”

The screeching noise of the shower curtain rings being pulled back pull your head up as you see Eddie half naked, torso covered in soap and your loofah in his hand, the dripping curls on his head turned to long waves with the weight of the water.

“Don’t act like I don’t sing like an angel, sweetheart,” he says with a wink, “besides, lying is not good for your health.”

The suds are traveling south, further and further and further downward, your eye fixated on one particular bubble as it pops right at his belly button.

You train your eyes on his, your cheeks heat from your staring. You reach up and shut the curtain.

“I wasn’t saying you sound bad—I just feel like my head is going to implode.”

Eddie thinks for a minute, “want me to sing you a lullaby? I’d put your baby ass to sleep just like I did last night.”

A million different scenarios flood your mind of what happened last night.

Did you kiss him? You remembering staring at his lips, the soft pillowy pinks, the way his tongue peak—

Oh fuck.

Are the hickies on his neck from you? His Adam apple bobs as he swallowed.

Shit.

Did you sleep together? Blankets, over your head.

What the fuck?

Where are your pants? You can’t even remember what pants you were wearing.

Where’s your car? Did you drive home?

Did Eddie pick you up from the bar?

Did he see you puke? You faintly remember puking on the floor of the front seat of a vehicle.

Your head continues to spin as you sit on the edge of the closed toilet seat. Suddenly feeling violated and disgusting.

“Tooty?” Eddie’s voice rings out.

This time you’re the one throwing open the curtain. Ignoring him as he shields himself with your loofah and his arm. “Jesus Chr—!“

“How fucking dare you!”

“What?!”

“You fucking pig, how could you do that to me!”

“Do what!” Eddie yells back

Your tossing shampoo bottles and bars of soap at his naked body, he’s surprisingly agile, dodging every one.

“How could you sleep with me when I was that drunk?! Jesus Christ I can’t believe you! Why would you do that to me?!”

Tears well in your eyes, you can’t believe that someone you once trusted, and were getting used to trusting again, after only being able to confide in three people over the last five years, would do something so vile, so fucking awful.

“After everything we’ve been through? I’ve known you since I was a kid Eddie! I get drunk one time and you take it upon yourself to forc— “

“Tooty!” Eddie hollers, turning the water off to the shower and stepping around you out of the way to grab a towel, he wraps it around his waist and turns to face you again.

“I didn’t do anything to you.” His eyes are wild but filled with hurt, he lowers his voice, and backs away from you. “If you don’t believe me, call Harrington. I talked to him after I carried your drunk puking ass to your own bed last night!”

“Then where are my pants?! If you ‘didn’t do anything to me’ where are my pants at?!” Eddie heads into the kitchen and pulls the short overalls you were wearing off the back of a chair, still damp from the wash. He tosses them towards you and they land at your feet.

“I washed them because you barfed all over them and I thought you would appreciate them being cleaned instead of in a vomit covered ball on the bathroom floor!”

Your accusations sting his eyes, and burn his nose.

You blink rapidly and rack your brain, the blurry sight of Steve’s car covered in puke comes into view. You struggling to get your clothes off alone in the bathroom. One? Or maybe two girls yelling at him as his back is turned to you, Eddie’s honey dripped voice talking to you as you throw up into the toilet, cheek nestled against the seat. And finally, the feel of his chest on your cheek as he carries you to your room, arms and hands never touching you inappropriately.

Before you can apologize Eddie is thrusting the cordless phone into your palm, Steve’s voice faintly heard from the speaker. He turns with a huff and not another look towards you as he slams his bedroom door shaking the frame.

Shutting your bedroom door, Eddie hangs his head, his forehead and one palm on the door, a small smile gracing his lips. His head is spinning, he’s not drunk, in fact he only had one beer tonight, right before their set started.

What is this feeling inside of him? Butterflies in his stomach? Nah, that shit was juvenile. He could only pray that it was indigestion, nothing a couple gulps from a Pepto Bismol bottle couldn’t fix. But he couldn’t deny it.

The instinctual gut feeling of needing to protect you rang true all day. He was ready to fight everyone and anyone who talked ill of you. He just couldn’t help himself. He hadn’t felt this protective of someone since his own mother. He didn’t even feel this way towards Chrissy, and they dated for almost a year.

He pulls his head from the door, wondering if he should have put you on your side so if you vomited in your sleep you wouldn’t choke. He shakes his head, removing his hand slowly down your door, letting his fingers hang to his side.

What is this? Why is he acting like a parent? He rubs his eyes and turns to go to bed, your wadded up overalls in his peripheral vision. Would it be weird? Him washing your clothes? It’s not like your panties were in here it was just the overalls. He could be a good guy, he could be a decent human being, for you— he’d be it all.

Stomping down the dingy, murky basement steps he quickly throws your overalls into the washing machine, adding way too much powdered Era but figuring it was better than having them stink like puke. Slamming the metal lid closed with a wonky bang, he trots back up the stairs.

Stomach grumbling and realizing the only thing he had to eat all day were the poptarts he packed for work, he opens the fridge. Inside sitting on a shelf is a fading spaghetti stained Tupperware, on the lid is a sticky note, and written in your beautiful loopy handwriting:

“Got off work early and made the Tater tot casserole. Warm it up in the microwave for a minute thirty, hope you had a good show tonight. -T ”

You didn’t always love when your clients canceled last minute, it meant money gone from your pocket and an annoying increasing anxiety building in your gut when bills showed up. But today, you could actually enjoy the sun's rays on your shoulders for a bit as you drove down the streets of Hawkins, stopping at Bradleys Big Buys to get a pound of ground beef and a can of cream of mushroom soup.

Pushing the cart through the aisles you found the two items you came for, hoping to make it home early so that you could make the casserole before Eddie played tonight, or maybe he could enjoy it when he got home.

Cooking for someone was a labor of love, the simplest act of kindness anyone could offer. That’s what Karen Wheeler had taught you when she would spend her Saturday’s teaching you and Nancy how to cook good hearty meals that would last a while so you wouldn’t starve in college.

“And someone enjoying the food you cook? Girls, that’s the best feeling in the world.”

She wasn’t lying. Even that first week with the lasagna when Eddie had basically came in his pants with every bite, you felt a skip in your chest.

It was the least you could do after he gave you a sense of calm whenever he was around. You didn’t trust many people. Not after what happened. In fact Nancy, Steve and Robin were the only people you could put any sort of hope in.

After browning the ground beef with an chopped onion and mixing the canned ingredients together, you season the mixture with salt, pepper, and garlic powder. One last wipe around the bowl with your spatula and it was good to go. Spreading the mixture into a greased 9 x 13 inch pan and added shredded cheese, you line the tater tots across in horizontal rows and toss it in the oven, covering the dish with tinfoil.

Steve confirms everything that had happened. Even down to the minor details of you calling him ‘Steeb’. You feel stupid. Your stomach sank when he said that Eddie had stayed up all night making sure your overalls were clean and that you weren’t choking on your vomit.

“He’s a good dude, Tooty,” he explains, “he’s a perv and a complete douche most of the time, but he would never in a million years do that to someone, especially you.”

“…I know.”

“But do you?” Steve prods, “you said so yourself that he kinda looked out for you, almost better than your own brother did.”

“He did— but that’s just because I was with Chrissy’s brother and he was dating Chrissy.”

“That doesn’t matter, what does matter is that he’s a good guy— someone trustworthy. Make it right.”

With that Steve hung up.

You sit on the couch, head in your hands, feeling like a big pile of shit for what you did. Eddie wouldn’t understand. How could he? You blatantly accused him of doing something that you know in your heart and in your soul that he never could have done. Tears drop from your eyes and into your palms. You allow yourself to cry, something you hated doing, for a few minutes. Angry with yourself for the wrong that you did, but also hurting from the past. When your eyes were puffy and snot was sliding from your nose, you call it quits. Fanning your face you realize you still haven’t taken a shower yet this morning.

Making your way to the bathroom, you turn your head towards Eddie door, Steve was right, you needed to fix this.

But how?

The shower was exactly what you needed. The scald from the water was helping ooze the booze from your pores as your dehydrated body soaked it up. Eddie didn’t deserve your harsh words, your accusatory statements, the way his face fell in horror when you screamed at him was burned into your memories, something you saw whenever your eyes were closed. You sit on the floor of the shower. You couldn’t tell him what was going on, you were stronger than that. You didn’t need his sympathy, his pity parade, you would get through this on your own just like you always had. You may have been wrong and and you should probably apologize but you dismiss the idea. What the hell does Steve Harrington know about it?

Eddie bangs on the door, bringing you back to reality.

“What?” You holler out.

“Hurry up so we can go get your car before you accuse me of stealing that too.” His voice is angry and hurt. Finishing up in the shower you leave the bathroom to see an impatient Eddie huffing around the living room, looking at his empty wrist as if he wore a watch and throwing his hands in the air.

“Christ will you hurry the fuck up? I’ve got places to be.”

“Oh fucking relax,” you pout, slamming your door and toweling off. You settle for a pair of denim shorts and a cotton t-shirt. When you reach for the comb to untangle your hair you hear obnoxious honking.

He wouldn’t.

Eddie is sitting in the van laying on the horn. Grabbing your ratty white keds you fly through the house, grabbing your purse and combing your hair as you fling yourself through the door. The pavement is hot on your feet, an exceptionally warm day for September. The hot sun and humid temperatures are the worst mix for a hangover.

Indian summer in full swing.

“Fuck I’m right here, knock it off!” He’s staring at you with dead eyes, hand planted on the horn until you slide your ass onto the cracked leather seat.

Without another word he throws the van in reverse and reaches a hand over to your headrest twisting his body, the cut off flannel he is wearing isn’t buttoned, the powdery musk of his deodorant burns your nose.

Nothing has changed with the old van, tape decks are still littered across the dash, stumped out in the cup holder are a mountain of cigarettes and joints. Too many pine scented Little Trees hanging from the rearview doing a horrible job of hiding the smell of weed. Judas Priest screams through the speakers. You place a foot on the dash to get your shoe on when suddenly you are lurching forward. Eddie taps the brakes.

“No feet on the dash.”

You set your face in a scowl, words bitter on your tongue, “yeah, cause my shoe is really going to hurt the value of this piece of shit. I’m just putting my fucking shoe on since some asshole with a small dick complex couldn’t wait five minutes.”

A mocking chuckle escapes Eddie’s throat, “you really are such a pleasure to be around, how did I get this lucky?.”

“And you’re such a prick,” you seethe, bending over and tying your shoe, “why did you even answer my ad in the paper? All we do is fight because you fucking hate me.”

He’s had enough, slamming his foot onto the pedal, Eddie turns towards you and spits, “Do you really think of me like that? A predator? Someone who would move in with you just to violate you the second you pass out?”

“No I—“

“All the years you’ve known me, you think I’d just up and turn into a fucking rapist?!”

“Jesus Christ Eddie!“

“No, I wanna know, right now,” he turns to you, eyes angry and filled with hurt, “do you get off on this shit? Treating people like they’re nothing? Automatically assuming the worst about someone because of where they grew up? I’m not like that Tooty, I’m not like my—“ he stops himself, pushing his tongue to his cheek, “you are not the girl I knew. I don’t even fucking recognize you.”

“The girl you knew was fourteen, Eddie! My biggest problem back then was wondering who I could convince to buy Boonesfarm for the weekend rager, shit changed. I changed! I had to adapt to shit that was way out of my control. And you don’t even know half of it!”

“You’re right, I don’t and I bet if I were to ask, you wouldn’t even tell me, so fuck it, where am I going?”

“What?”

“I can’t read your mind, where is your car parked?”

You tell him. And as soon as you pull alongside Louie’s and beside your car, you realize you don’t have the keys.

“Open the door. Get out.” Eddie spits in a condescending tone.

Looking at him and smiling, with an extra side of cunt you sing, “I don’t have my keys.”

“Of fucking course.”

Lighting up a cigarette and cranking the wheel Eddie flies through Hawkins. He misses the turn on Kerley to get back home. “Missed the turn,” you announce, putting your other shoe on.

Eddie takes a deep breath and sighs lips tight in a line and exhaling through his nose. “Groceries.” He says through gritted teeth.

Pulling into the grocery store parking lot, Eddie parks, taking up for spots, a tire in each one, before the van even stops moving he’s already out and slamming the door, flicking his cigarette across the parking lot. The heat of the day already high.

Finishing lacing up your other shoe you run across the parking lot to catch up to him. He already has a cart and is whizzing through the aisles before you finally see him. Reaching into your purse you unfold the list and take a look at it.

Dunakaroos

Twizzlers

Gobstoppers

Spaghetti o’s

Bologna

Mayo— NOT MIRACLE WHIP! And no it’s not for that.

Lotion, yes for that 😉

the soft bread, not the brown one.

Carton of reds

Case of Busch Light.

Sunny D

Red kool aid

Hot dogs

Cocoa Puffs

Sliced cheese

Baby food since you think I’m a child (just kidding, don’t be mad)

whatever chips you got with that salsa the one time

My milk— not that skim shit you drink

Your milk— the skim shit

Mac n Cheese

“What kind of a fucking list is this? Most of this shit is snacks.”

“Oh for fucks sake, what are you pissed about now?” Eddie says, dumping two bags of marshmallows into the cart.

You’ve never met a twenty-six year old that ate like he was dining at Willy Wonka’s Factory every night.

“Not a single fruit or vegetable!” You say, waving the list in his face.

“I smoke green, I don’t eat it. Unless you wanna make some pot brownies, I’d eat the shit out of those.” He throws a box of brownie mix into the cart for good measure.

You yank the cart from his hands and turn around, heading back to the produce aisle. He huffs when you place a paper bag of apples neatly in the cart, whines when the bananas sit by your purse, and almost passed out when the tomatoes and a head of lettuce make their way into the cart.

“You’re such a baby! Literally an overgrown man child in the flesh.” He’s walking in front of you mimicking you and whoops! The cart may have slipped out of your hands and made a fleeting dash towards his Achilles tendon, banging against.

“Ouch, Jesus Christ!” Eddie groans under his breath, holding his leg he glares towards you, shooting daggers.

“It slipped,” you smirk.

He scoffs and turns on his heel walking away. You finish in the produce aisle, looking through the boxes of noodles and calculating what you could make for dinner this week. Eddie comes back arms full, you only see his hair sticking out on each side of the three boxes of cereal, a 10 lb ham and seven tubes of cinnamon rolls. He drops them all into the cart with a heavy thud.

After crossing everything off the list and getting a few more things despite Eddie’s protesting exhales, you have a cart full. He seems to have calmed down by the time you make it to the beer fridge, taking two thirty packs of Busch Light and putting them on the bottom of the cart, he rips the side of one of them open and takes a can out. Cracking it open in the middle of the store, downing it. The light colored lager is spilling down his chin, into the collar of his open shirt. He tosses it into a lady’s cart as she’s walking past, wiping the foam from his lips and belching loudly.

You roll your eyes, “You can’t wait until we’re home?”

“What?” He says, looking at you with a stupid grin, “I’m gonna pay for it.”

Waiting in the checkout aisle he cracks another one as he unloads the groceries onto the conveyor belt with one hand. Tossing most of the items onto the belt and grabbing another beer and chugging it. The checkout lady puts her nose in the air and huffs a disapproving grunt.

“I was thirsty.”

“You’re so imp—” your insult is cut short when your eyes sweep over him.

It had been a full two years since you had seen him last. His blonde hair was combed to the side like it always was. The blue of his icy eyes still burned holes through you like dry ice to the exposed skin. The navy blue suit jacket and white Oxford shirt with a red patterned tie and the tan khakis he was wearing suggested he was coming from a late Sunday brunch after church. Awful crippling memories of spending hours ironing those pants to make sure the creases were perfect cloud your memory, you unconsciously hold the two fingers on your left hand, the ones that held misshaped triangle burn scars.

You don’t realize that Eddie is talking or that you’ve stopped moving until the shape of his curly head shakes in front of you. Your breath is hitched in your chest, you feel small. Physically and mentally.

Two years without seeing the face that was the sole purpose of most of the fear in your life. Two years without seeing the demon grin and crazy twitch in his eye. You were frozen in place and your blood ran cold.

It was evil in its truest form. Standing in the checkout behind you— stood Chad Cunningham.

Eddie couldn’t make heads or tails of what was going on. Putting the grocery sacks in the cart, he turns to look in your line of vision. He doesn’t recognize him at first. But the strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes ran in the Cunningham blood. He was with a woman, who was so obviously pregnant she seemed like she was about to burst. Judging from the horrific way your eyes were bulged out of your head and the way your body was almost catatonic, Eddie figured it was time to get the fuck out of here. Reaching in his pocket for his wallet he paid the cashier and impatiently waited for the change, keeping his eyes on you.

You were trembling with fear. Not from the sudden run in with an ex but something much deeper than that. Eddie places his hands on your shoulders and looks into your eyes, “let’s go sweetheart,” he whispers gently, he crowds behind you and puts a small hand on your back, guiding you forward towards the automatic doors. Eddie keeps his head on a swivel for Chad.

The woman who was with him was waddling towards the bathroom, his eyes never leaving your body. As soon as she was out of ear shot, Chad puffed out his chest and said, “Lookin’ good honey bun, I will say though, the downgrade,” he points to Eddie, “..yikes.”

The nickname made your skin crawl. You never liked it, and he knew that. He only said it to get a rise out of you, which was successful. “See you soon,” he gloated, smiling with perfectly straight teeth, eyes never meeting his smile.

You don’t make it five feet outside before the shock wears off and the tears stream down your face in salty waves. Eddie takes control of the cart with his left hand and ushers you forward with his right, minimal pressure on the small of your back as he keeps his head on a swivel, dark curtain of curls crowding his eyes as he moves his head around.

Unlocking the doors he helps you in, buckling your seatbelt and saying he’d be back in thirty seconds. The back doors of the van fly open as Eddie all but tosses the groceries into the back. At thirty seconds exactly, Eddie is back in the van, starting it and roaring out of the parking lot.

He still didn’t know what happened with Chad, but it wouldn’t take an absolute idiot to know that it was bad. Really fucking bad. He looks over to you and your head is stuffed into your shirt, your knees under your chin and you’re rocking back and forth on the seat.

“Five minutes, Tooty— we’ll be home in less than five minutes, okay?” Eddie says, frantically. He’s trying to stay calm. Trying to be the voice of reason, composed and serene. But he is horrified. Scared to death at how you responded to seeing Chad. How your body froze up and your face looked as if you weren’t breathing. Even now, hearing you gasp for air as your body shook and swayed with each turn he made. He slams on the gas, pausing slightly at stop signs and ignoring any yield signs.

He parks in the driveway, coming around to help you out of the van. Just like he did last night, he carries you, only this time you remember it. Your body is shaking violently, chest racked with sobs. His chest is wet with tears from your face being buried into it. He’s whispering to you that everything will be okay. Opening the door he kicks it shut with his boot. He brings you into your room and sits you on your bed, you’re cradled in his lap, like a parent would hold a child. He caresses your head, holding you closer to him. His warm breath in your hair grounds you. You feel him lean forward grabbing on your nightstand for something, the phone.

He dials the number without even thinking. Waiting impatiently on the other end as a familiar voice answers.

“Hello?” Steve breathes boredly into the phone.

Eddie sighs with relief, “Harrington, it’s me.”

“Oh God, listen dude I don’t know what to te—“

“Shut up, Steve.” Eddie interrupts, “listen—something, happened.”

Steve almost chokes on his popcorn, frantically firing off questions. “What? What’s going on? Is she okay? Are you okay?”

“Ye—no, I mean—“ Eddie is stuttering and trying to explain, “we ran into Chad at the gro—“

“I’m on my way!”

The line goes dead and Eddie hears dial tone. He sets the phone back in the holder and wraps a blanket around you. Your heart is racing and you can’t even form words. You haven’t had a panic attack in over a year. It feels like the world is crashing in on you, the walls are tight and shrinking, the whole room feels smaller by the minute. Eddie’s voice is gentle and soothing, like a warm cup of coffee on a cold winter morning.

“Can you take a deep breath for me?” He murmurs, “try to match your breathing with mine.” He remembers what he was taught as a kid. His emotions always ran high and Wayne would have to settle him down, get him to take deep breaths.

He’s rubbing soft circles into your back. Rocking you back and forth. You try to speak but all that comes out are gasps and the whirling noise of sharp intake of breath.

Steve and Robin make it to the house in record time, running to your room and taking everything in. Your disheveled appearance brings Steve to his knees in front of Eddie. Grabbing your hand and squeezing letting you know it was going to be okay.

You slide off Eddie’s lap and lay on the bed, curled in a ball. Robin lays beside you. Brushing your hair from your face with her fingers.

Steve pulls Eddie out of your room with great force he didn’t want to leave but he didn’t know how to help.

“I’m sorry— fuck man, I’m sorry for calling you — I just— she just locked up. She couldn’t talk, she couldn’t move!” He runs his hands down his face, trying to will the tears away. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“Hey, give yourself a break, you got her home, she’s safe,” Steve says patting Eddie on the back, “so explain what happened.”

Eddie begins explaining from when you both got to the grocery store. He goes into detail how distraught you seemed, how your body was rigid and full of fear. The burn of tears threatening to spill from his eyes has him blinking quick before they fall. Steve listens intently, face warped with shock and disbelief.

Throwing his head back and running his hands down his face Steve lets out a loud exhale and throws his hands on his hips, “fuck I hate that guy.”

“Yeah he seems like a fucking psycho,” Eddie agrees, “but what the fuck is going on?! I mean yeah they dated but, I don’t stiff up like that when I run into Chrissy or Trish.”

A shiver runs down his spine as he thinks of how upset you were, your body crumbling with fear the minute you made it into the van. Anxiety trickling through your body like electricity to a wire. He hated to admit it but he was scared for you.

Remembering the groceries in the back of the van, the two guys brave the sweltering heat to retrieve them. Eddie starts to put the items away, Steve rolls his eyes watching him put the canned items in the small cabinet designed for spices, the endless snacks he purchased thrown on the counter nestled up against the flour canister and slamming the lettuce into the fridge like a bowling ball.

Eddie could give a rats ass where the things went, he was worried and getting a headache from wondering if you were going to be okay. Half thinking he should find where good ol Chad lived and pay him a nice little visit. Only three tires slashed and the insurance won’t cover it.

Throwing the groceries sacks in the garbage and making his way to the living room, sitting down on the couch, he sits with his elbows on his knees, bouncing them in quick repetitions. “So are you gonna tell me what’s going on or should I put a paper fortune teller on my fingers and we can decide what’s wrong with Tooty with the help of crayola markers?”

The wailing cries and sobs have dissipated in the last half hour, only Robin’s soothing words can be heard now.

“Dude, it’s not my place to say,” Steve says, “it’s one thing to tell you about her parents and Kevin, but this—“ he takes another deep breath, running his hands through his thick tufts of hair, “this is 100 times worse than that,” Steve explains lowering his head.

“…But you’re right, you’re her roommate and you should know what happened.”

Eddie nods his head slowly, silently agreeing with everything Steve had said. Standing quickly and pacing around the living room, his mind is running a million miles a minute. The fight you two had didn’t matter, the only thing that mattered to him in this moment— the only thing on his mind for the past twelve hours— was you.

Steve stands and runs his fingers through his hair, placing his hands on the waist of the old fading green gym shorts he was wearing. “I’m gonna go talk to her, and when you guys are done, I’m gonna make you guys something to eat. I’m sure you idiots haven’t eaten today given the timing of when shit hit the fan.”

Eddie nods again, biting the fingernails on his right hand until they bled, a habit he hadn’t done since he was a teen, facing possible jail time for destructing private property when he spray painted, “Your mom swallowed EM’s monster cock” on the front doors of Hawkins High. He was pacing, itching for a cigarette. Pulling the pack from his flannel breast pocket he goes outside and sits on the concrete steps, lighting up.

Three squashed cigarette butts sit next to him on the step before Steve finds him. Eddie stands and stubs the cigarette out blowing smoke out of the crooked twist of his lips away from Steve’s face. The nicotine helped take the edge off but he was still anxious, fidgeting his rings.

“H-how is she?” Eddie asks apprehensively, “can I talk to her?”

“She’s better, taking deep breaths and relaxing as best as he can, she’s gonna explain everything, just give her space— let her talk and don’t ask anything until she’s finished.”

“Yeah, ‘f course.”

“Alright. Robin is gonna help me make supper,” Steve says holding opening the front door, face in a grimace he jokes, “wish me luck.”

Eddie was the one who thought he himself needed the luck, he was scared shitless that you were afraid of him.

He walks gently to your room and knocks softly on the door with one knuckle, palm facing him. He remembers just hours ago how he was standing at this very door, and how very different he felt then.

“Come in,” Robin chirps.

Eddie takes a quick breath holding it as he steps foot into your room. You’re sitting on your bed cross legged, blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Your eyes are red rimmed and tissues surrounding you, a cemetery of drying tears. You look at him and muster a smile, a twitch of your lips raising at the corners.

“Well, I’m needed as a sous chef in kitchen a la Harrington,” Robin says brightly, standing from the bed and skipping towards the door. When she passes Eddie she touches his arm squeezing and giving him a reassuring nod.

Eddie stands with his hands stuffed in his pockets as the door clicks shut. You both don’t say anything for a while, you’re twirling the end of the pillowcase in your lap and he’s burning holes with his eyes into the carpet.

“I’m really sorry, Eddie,” you say quietly, “I’m—“ your voice catches in your throat, sore from the the wailing, “I’m hoping that when I’m done telling you, you’ll be able to understand..”

He nods and leans against the wall. Hands wrapped around his triceps.

“Before I explain— I just need you to know that only Robin, Steve, Nancy, and her parents know about this— not my parents, or Kev or anyone else— and now you.

Eddie’s face is full of concern, he whispers an “okay,” and you continue.

“I can’t remember but I’m pretty sure that you and Chrissy started dating around the same time that Chad and I did, and as you remember I’m sure, Chad and I were together almost all the time. When you graduated, and my sophomore year was the year my parents moved away— things changed with him. He was suddenly callous about everything, needing control of who I was with and when. Mostly he was pissed that I was staying with the Wheeler’s. He always thought I was cheating on him with Mike.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, the Mike Wheeler he knew wouldn’t know what to do if a chick laid butt naked in his bed. Probably piss himself.

You work the corner of the pillow case in your fingers as you keep going, “The first time he hit me was on a night that I told him I couldn’t hang out because Mrs. Wheeler wanted everyone home for supper. He called me a slut and told me that I should just go and fuck Mike already even though he knew I wasn’t.”

Eddie’s eyes flicker with anger when you admit that Chad hit you, his fists clenched together tightly. With your head down and looking away from him you continue, your voice wobbly.

“We didn’t even have sex yet, at that time, I wasn’t ready. After he hit me, I thought we should break up. He followed me around, begging me to take him back and like the naive kid that I was, I did. He would be sweet for a few weeks, and then it was like a flip would switch and he’d back hand me for giving Lucas a pencil during History, pulled my hair out in chunks when Mike brought me to school, he even choked me until I passed out when Dustin sat next to me at lunch. He was extremely jealous of everyone around him, and couldn’t handle seeing anyone he didn’t ‘approve of’ be near me. He hated that I worked at Family Video, he would show up almost every shift and wait in the store for me to clock out, even threatening to kick Steve’s ass on more than one occasion. He finally gave up on that when I told him Steve was dating Robin, just so I could go to work in peace.”

Eddie’s gut is rolling, the anger boiling in his blood, his nostrils are flared, it is taking everything in him to not react the way he wants to, a simple trailer park style beating to Chad’s car, his face, whatever would hurt the little prick more. Heads would fucking roll if Eddie ever got ahold of him.

“It didn’t end there. Like I said, we weren’t having sex because I wasn’t ready, I had enough shit going on with my parents up and leaving and buying all the concealer that Melvald’s carried to cover up the bruises.”

You take a shaky breath, fighting back tears for as long as you could. Chewing the inside of your lip and un crossing your legs, bringing your knees to your chest you continue.

“Af—After prom our junior year, we were driving around and he was drinking, I just wanted to go home but he didn’t. He parked way outside of town on the south side, on some dead end road… I mouthed off to him about how cliche it was to lose our virginities on prom night and the next thing I knew,” your voice pitches to a high volume, your lips are tight as you remember the pain you felt in your head from him knocking you out, the way his hands were groping your body, “I was waking up to him on top of me, and inside of me.”

The dam breaks, the tears fall from your eyes like rain in the spring time. You throw your head back against your headboard and sniff loudly, your palms pressed to your eyes.

Eddie doesn’t know what to do, he’s afraid if he tried to comfort you it would only cause you more pain. Against his better judgment he stands and walks towards the bed, scooting across the lavender bedspread he sits across from you, reaching for your ankle and tenderly squeezing it, letting you know that he was there.

“I’ve never felt more alone in my entire life then when I was dating him,” you sniffle and reach for the tissues, blowing your nose loudly, “Eddie, this went on for years, it didn’t fucking stop. After senior year, he didn’t want me to go to college, because I would be too far away from him, and we argued and he kicked me out on the opposite side of town with two swelling black eyes. By the time I made it back to the Wheeler’s, my eyes were almost shut. That night, I told Ted and a very hysterical, Karen everything, and they called the cops. Of course, Tim Cunningham was the state prosecutor at the time, so it didn’t go far— Hop did what he could but there was never any judgment made against Chad, and everything was over after that.”

“I went to beauty school with Nance, and when we moved back home, I was living in the little apartments off of Sawmill Road, he found out where I was and broke in, luckily Steve and Robin were my neighbors so they heard everything and came running before he could hurt me.

“After that.. Ted and Karen bought this place for Nancy and I and last year I saved up enough and bought it from them. Last I heard, Chad had moved to Indianapolis and was working for his uncle at the law firm until he finished school. I haven’t seen him in over two years— anyway,” you finish, wiping your eyes, and blowing your nose once more, “that’s the story.”

Eddie doesn’t know where to begin, he partially is taking the blame for what happened to you, knowing that if he were there, if he had stuck it out with Chrissy maybe he could have seen the signs, maybe he could have stopped it before it ever started, maybe he could have put that little fucker in his place and made him think twice about ever touching you again. He’s full of regret, full of shame and turmoil as he thinks about how you must have been feeling this morning.

“Oh, Tooty.” Eddie starts his eyes glistening with wetness, heart aching for you, “I’m so sorry, Jesus Christ, I— I don’t even… Fuck! I should have been around.”

“There wasn’t anything anyone could have done— he’s a lunatic.” You take a breath and look down at his hand on your ankle, abandoning the thought of reaching for it at the last minute, “I know you would never do something to hurt me, or anyone— I’m sorry about last night Eddie. I just, I don’t ever get drunk enough to not remember what happened. Not after the shit I’ve been through. ” You fold your arms into your self, wrapping around your ribs, in a small voice you whisper, “and today when I couldn’t remember, I was fucking terrified—going right back to how I felt that night when I was sixteen.”

In the van today, he fully intended on chewing you out, making you feel about three inches tall. He had been accused of many different things during his teenage years. Hell he even spent a night or two in jail after fighting a guy in Indianapolis when he threw a beer at Gareth. But one thing Wayne taught him was to respect women. Sure he wasn’t the average guy, his lever leaned a little further towards pervert than most. But he would never hurt a woman. The way you looked right now scared him. Like you were afraid to be near him. Unsure if he would scream at you or worse. And it broke his heart.

“Sweetheart,” he says, leaning forward, finger dipping under your chin and tilting your head up so you were looking right at him. A fresh brim of tears clung to your lashes, “as long as I’m here, being the thorn in your side, pain in the ass, good looking mother fucker that I am— you don’t ever have to be scared again.”

You shutter, body exhausted and giving in, letting the tears fall.

“Promise?”

Your doe eyes are wet and staring into his, the swirling chocolate of his eyes, melted as he looks into your soul. Shedding any walls around his heart, baring himself of his discretions, his eyes are deeper than the galaxy. You swear you’ve never seen anything prettier in your life. You can feel your frigid heart thawing for the first time in years.

“Always.”

You never thought a single word could have so much meaning, a sense of security washed over you with Eddie’s promising word. A silent devotion from his eyes of keeping you safe and out of harm's way. You felt your soul open up to him. A higher power bringing you closer to him. You reach down and grab his hand. Rubbing the rough knuckles and tracing the rings on his fingers. An angel’s smile dances on Eddie’s lips. He decides right there, in that moment, that he would be whatever you needed. For as long as you needed him. Because he needed you.

///

SEE YOU IN VOLUME VI

a/n: hope you enjoyed this, it was a little rough but the next chapter is pure fluff 💋

#eddie munson angst #eddie munson #eddie x you #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #honey i’m home

2K notes · View notes

hearts4kaulitz · 10 months

Text

2005 / YOUNGER BILL KAULITZ HCSbill

bill kaulitz x gn! reader

you and him definitely go to see movies together no doubt

like you’ll be sitting in ur room at night and youd get a call from him asking if you could sneak out so yall could watch the newest movies (— sometimes he brings tom)

if you try and brush his hair he will like fall cause theres so much gel in it.

its really funny but takes FOREVER to get out.

if hes frustrated enough he’ll ask you to help him wash it out. (— in a sink weirdo)

y’all probably have karaoke nights like you two are singing ur hearts out to some song

tom and the rest of the band doesn’t appreciate it, you two have DEFINITELY gotten a noise complaint more than once.

he would also paint your nails alot

if you have a problem with biting your nails he’d try and keep you distracted by doing anything.

“ YN! YN! look what i made! ” and he’d show you the most basic drawing ever. he really wouldn’t even try on it but its the thought that counts

if you dont know german he would teach you some.

bill could sit there for HOURS just teaching you words and sentences.

he would be so proud of you

sometimes he just walks by you and says something like “guten morgen” just to see if you remembered and if you did he would pretend he didnt care but its so obvious hes all giddy cause he taught u something

if tom has a girl over or is like talking to one on the phone you two would pretend to be the girl and tom right infront of his face so he’d get flustered

yall would laugh your ASSES off if he started to stutter.

you two have sleepovers anytime you can. if hes not at your house, your at his. theres no in between and no going back

if he did like you he would definitely ask you to sleep over more often and ask you to watch movies with him. anything really

if you were to fall asleep first he would move next to you just so he could play with your hair or just hold you close

in the mornings he pretends like he has NO idea why yall are like that even though it was literally his idea.

also he does ur makeup alot.

like you would be laying on the couch with ur head turned in his direction with his hands cupping ur face so he can get better angles and whatever.

you can tell he just likes to hold your face though.

younger bill seemed like sucha cutie patootie im crying omg

OMG I DISAPPEARED AGAIN.

im so sorry i’ll probably write a fanfic based on one of these hcs tho 😭😭

im so sorry ill try and be better at posting ive just been having HORRIBLE writers block

#x reader #kaulitz twins #ynstories #bill kaulitz #ao3 #bill x reader #tokio hotel #hearts4kaulitz #tokio hotel x reader #tom kaulitz #tokio #bill kaulitz smut #gustav schäfer #tom x reader #bill kaulitz fanfic #bill kaulitz x reader #gustav schäfer x reader

461 notes · View notes

sukunasweetheart · 7 months

Note

I just realised Sukuna gives me Bowser vibes and I can't help but imagine him singing Peaches to reader 😭

New crack au where Sukuna is a king with too much time on his hands and keeps kidnapping the princess of a neighboring kingdom, reader.

The king and queen of that neighboring kingdom become so confused when they see that she's been returned safe and sound. They only know Sukuna as this terrifying tyrannical guy but reader is like "nah we had sandwiches for snack time and he showed me his cool sword collection."

✦ stella .ᐟ

its crazy bc ive thought abt this before, how he has similar vibes to sukuna,,, wild, i know (no bc u cant tell me that bowser and sukuna dont have the same features?? bro i swearrr hear me out) this idea is so cute ngl

Imagine he intended to kidnap you just for the funsies just to get under his neighbouring country's skin but you end up comedically falling for him while being held so comfortably captive with the sandwiches and sword collection

"Can you show me your other sword while youre at it, please?"

Sukuna: 😳😐?

Imagine trying to court him openly after he returns you that the whole kingdom gets invested in the love story-

Your sickeningly sweet love letters 💌 the people read the copies of them in the morning like a gossip magazine

He never gives a reply back 💔 and then things turn for the worst when one of the princes that you rejected the proposal of in the past comes attacking your country to force you to marry him...

Here comes sukuna out of the blue swooping in with his soldiers to fight him off, bc he likes doing what he does best - waging wars and coming out victorious

But the at the end he personally comes to visit you, wearing a fancy cloak and everything else a king would wear

"I've come to take your hand in marriage, princess."

He decided that getting to rule a second country all the while getting to fight off your other admirers sounded like a good time to him (also charmed by your poems, but he wont admit that)

Now, there is a grouchy, almighty ruler and his giggly wife who is a sweetheart

#dont even ask me abt what this is i just thought of it on the spot #idc its cute #😭 king sukuna pls #i want his hand in marriage fr #poe answers #sukuna x reader

362 notes · View notes

frostbitebakery · 12 days

Note

Anything from Who Ordered The Resurrection Special please?

DO I! :D

“The war is over. What now?”

Ryloth’s mountains rise on the horizon with the setting sun.

Obi-Wan rubs at the corner of his eye, leans back on his other hand. The grass is tickling against his skin. Kashyyk’s vegetation has always been so soft and lush; it’s a balm that almost, almost makes him smile. “I’m afraid we’re not out of tasks to do yet, my friend.” Perhaps his tone is too sarcastic, too downtrodden. But the exhaustion is clamoring up his every nerve and muscle and strand of thought.

“You’re right,” his Commander agrees softly, small chuckle rounding the vowels, echoes of it flowing back from the cliffs. Geonosis is not a good resting place. “Even death can’t keep you away from work.”

It sounds too serious for a joke. “What do you mean?” he asks and turns his head towards—

Goda shakes him by the singed shawl, breath burning and fire. “The one who should have been didn’t care and now everyone is paying the price.” The hole in his gut sizzles, melts, and Obi-Wan frantically pulls at the bandages. “Stop them before—“

“Goda, please, hold on, yes?” They’re alone but they shouldn’t be. It had been carnage the last time. Goda pushing Obi-Wan into a fighter with his last breath, voice cold and droid-like when it wasn’t drenched in despair.

Goda’s glove smells like death as it brushes against Obi-Wan’s cheek. “We weren’t ever meant to be, were we?”

“Who—? Commander—“

“Your men.”

Obi-Wan wakes up.

Day 2

Wolffe hauls the backpack higher up on his shoulder, pulls the cap deeper into his face. “Sinker owes me. I’ll rig up the IV once I’m back.”

“I’m sure Nurse Rosa appreciates the nickname.”

Wolffe holds up his hands. “She’s the one who came up with it.” He slaps Cody’s shoulder before turning to the front door. “I’ll get something to eat, too,” he says, stepping through the door and into the faint morning light.

Cody leans against the door, closing it with his weight, and lets himself sigh deep and even.

Their plan is to put an IV into the zombie for electrolytes until his organs can handle digestion. Wolffe gets some supplies from the hospital since going there is still out of the question even though the zombie has drastically healed since the first moment he appeared. It’s not leathery skin stretched over bones and gnarled limbs anymore. He had almost looked fresh faced when Cody had helped him into a loose t-shirt and sweatpants. Very fresh faced. It’s easy now to imagine what he’ll look like once he’s fully alive again.

Cody’s cheeks turn warm and that’s enough of that.

Maybe Cody’s family is in a unique position when it comes to… the stranger side of life, and as a firefighter he’s certainly seen enough shit one can’t explain that easily. But he’d rather not make tinfoil hats in a padded room while the zombie is whisked off to be sliced and diced.

“Hel…lo…”

Perfect timing. Cody looks up to his unalive guest standing in the doorway of the guest bedroom, looking lost in Cody’s borrowed clothes. “Oh, hey, you’re up!”

“…there.”

Cody blinks. “Where what?”

Cody has to think about that one for a minute. Which might give Obi-Wan the wrong impression about his family and Cody’s relationship to them but he’s not exactly thinking about them day and night anymore. Not now that they’re all adults with their own lives.

“My siblings mean everything to me,” Cody lands on, tipping a finger against the red MFD mug. “They didn’t have it easy growing up but they worked hard and,” he huffs out a laugh. He isn’t cynical usually but working hard to achieve dreams and success hasn’t been cutting it since before he was born. “Our father had some helpful connections so they could at least get a foot in the door.”

Cody refuses to publicly acknowledge the reality behind those connections for his siblings’ sake. He dug deep to uncover the truth behind Bly suddenly getting the scholarship of a lifetime, the top notch medical school of the country personally inviting Wolffe into their program.

Fox had fucked off to the Navy following his dream of reenacting the beach football scene in Top Gun. So it was up to Cody to ensure their father’s shady business wouldn’t bite them in the ass in the long run. Ponds had already paid the highest price for that. Boba—

“Boba is the oldest,” Cody starts, smile tugging at his mouth despite everything. He’s currently in jail for murdering my second oldest brother, Cody chooses not to say.

Obi-Wan tilts his head in interest but Cody moves right along.

“You met Wolffe,” he continues, grinning at Obi-Wan’s sigh. “Yeah, he has that effect on people.”

“I’m not here to hold people’s hands, Dr Koone,” Wolffe says reasonably.

The medical superintendent looks down at his hand being held by Wolffe and raises a bushy eyebrow around the breathing mask contraption covering most of his face.

“This means nothing.” Wolffe about had a heart attack when he got the news of the gas leak explosion rendering his mentor comatose. “It’s not my fault you like to live in a medical drama.”

Dr Koone pats his hand.

Wolffe sighs. “I’ll have Boost fluff your pillows. He’ll sneak in your ER novels.”

“I actually am not sure what Bly does,” Cody says slowly. “She got a bunch of doctorates hanging in her garage and her favorite hobby is making slime.”

Bly punches the end call button on the touchscreen with a growl. “No one lets me do anything around here!”

Cody blows on the spoonful of sauce before taking a careful sip. “They’re not going to fund you your own CERN, Bly.” A bit more oregano should do the trick.

“The things I could do with it!”

The alarm is about to go off and Cody stops it before the first beep. “Drain the spaghetti, please.”

Bly takes the huge pot over to the sink, hitting the cold water. “They act like I’m one inevitable lab accident away from becoming Doofenschmirtz.”

“They aren’t wrong.”

Bly whirls around, hands over her heart. “That’s the nicest thing you ever said to me, Codes.”

“I love you no matter what doesn’t count at all, does it?”

His sister scoffs out a laugh and waves him away. “I already knew that, idiot.”

Cody shakes his head and announces to the station that lunch is ready.

“After Fox’s stint in the Navy and fulfilling that dream, he went on to the next one,” Cody explains and pauses.

“Please give a warm welcome to our special guest tonight,” the club host says into the mic. “His unapologetic attitude towards life and its wonders has firmly established his name in the poetry community worldwide.”

Cody is about to clap when he notices everyone around him snapping their fingers.

“I swear, all your lives are made purely out of 90s tropes,” he murmurs to Bly.

“You would know, old man.”

Fox slinks onto the stage in a tight fitting black turtleneck and board shorts, and grabs the mic. “Pain.” He stomps onto the floor once. “Spite.”

The crowd goes wild.

#my wips #who ordered the resurrection special #Goda means honor in Latvian

53 notes · View notes

honakito · 3 months

Note

Plz akito kiss hcs ..

⠀⠀ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏⠀⠀ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏⠀⠀ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏are you wearing lipstick on purpose ? ?

LIP MARKS - prod. honakito

posted as : request

chars : s. akito , y. kanade

type: x g/n ! reader

scenario : kisses with them ( headcanons )

notes : that is so cute im gonna give u a smooch. now this MIGHT be similar to others posts but everything in this context is unintentional,,, so no i am not a copycat ,, tho, enjoy!!

notes 2 : i wrote kanade too even tho she wasnt in the request because i also want to write other characters ,,,, because as much as i want this to be an akito blog i genuienly CANT </3 id get bored and theres no SPICE in that what the fuck,,, also i flunged my math comp today (even tho i have the highest grades and like general grade in class with a 9,94) i got a like 55 this is not my first time the 55 has cursed me i cant escape ,, so now ive been ghosting everyone that has asked me for my score im genuinely so embarrassed ( this is also NOT the first time ive did this )

date : 19 / 01 / 24 - 20 / 01 / 24

s. akito

akitos lips are soft. like genuinely so soft.

hes probably had them chapped for a little while , due to practicing in the sun a lot. before you started helping him on it. i guess it payed off , so , so well.

so now , after helping him treat them, his kisses got somehow better.

its like theyre more tender and passionate now. maybe its his way of getting back at you for giving him tips and buying the necessary things he needed? pretty much. yeah definitely.

small fact : he still kept the things you bought him for his lips , neat and clean on his desk. ‘ im keeping those for when they get dry again, not for kissing you better. they heavily influence my singing, y’know? ‘ - thats his excuse anyway.

usually, they arent that long. in hurries, he usually just leaves a small peck. a kiss on the forehead, even. tho he only does this when no ones watching , not too fond of pda because of three certain someones. the most he can do in public is a quick kiss on the hand, on one of the rings you wear, if you do actually use jewelry.

but in private , its like a switch flipping. hes initiating it a lot more, each kiss lasting two times more than usual with one break slipped in there somewhere. mostly on the lips, but doesnt limit there. hed kiss you all over your face occasionally , if hes feeling mischievous. or in comfort. depends on the context.

and about hand placement — definitely on your waist. he likes it alot. in an innocent way, ofcourse. in general, he just likes it. wrapping his arms around it from behind you , hugging you and resting his face on your shoulder. akito himself doesnt know why.

so basically — his kissers are tender , passionate , and depend on his mood. hes a pretty simple guy.

y. kanade

if akitos lips were soft, then kanades are heavenly, if taken care of properly.

her lack of self care is there, ofcourse, even worse if it wasnt for honami. but with a little bit of your help, i feel like shed eventually get better — and that includes skincare and just beauty in general.

she has dry lips, due to working a lot during both mornings and nights , so she doesnt really have time to take care of them — or she oftenly licks them to the extent of it. it doesnt take a lot of chapstick to get them nice and soft, tho.

theyd DEFINITELY taste like soy cup noodles, argue with the entirety of usa. or collectively agree. i dont care i know im right.

her kisses arent special, but they hold a lot of sentimental expression to both you and kanade. for her , leaving you quick pecks anywhere on your face is a way to express what shes feeling. is she proud? is she happy? did something happen? does she need attention? you’ll only know through her quick kiss on your cheek.

she cant last through really long kisses tho — poor girl runs out of breath so fast. thats why you both settled in quick pecks.

and hand placement during those? your cheeks or the back of your head , running her hands through your hair. doesnt matter if youre taller (which is likely) , she’d initiate it (rarely long) by gently cupping your cheeks and bringing your face closer to her.

summed up — shes a decent kisser. just dont suffocate her during your time.

does anybody wanna be on my taglist…. ive been considering doing one ,,

dividers arent mine ; credits to the rightful owners on TUMBLR

#written : surpassed angelic #akito shinonome #kanade yoisaki #akito shinonome x reader #kanade yoisaki x reader #project sekai #pjsk x reader #pjsk #akito vbs #kanade pjsk #project sekai colorful stage #pjsk x you

73 notes · View notes

lemmetreatya · 1 year

Text

movie director!onyankopon isnt much of a man who welcomes the limelight with open arms. he loves his career, don’t get him wrong, but he will always prefer behind the camera as opposed to in front of it.

you on the other hand, loved the cameras. the flashing lights, the throat splitting screams, the pure gluttonous feeling of simply being worshipped. it was all very comfortable with you and you wouldn’t change it for the world.

even better, because movie director!onyankopon loved to worship you — whether it be squeezing and massaging at your flesh during prem nights or whether his hand be hooked right under your thighs during interviews. the way his eyes lit up and his billion watts smile appeared whenever the interviewer spoke about you or how he never failed to sing your saccharine praises. movie director!onyankopon was obsessed with you in such a healthy and loving way that it was almost sickening.

“ony…”

moans of his name were so easy falling off of your lips. even whilst kissing him with reverent fervour and your back cold against the front doors to your house, it was still his name you ought to call.

movie director!onyankopon slides the both of you across the wall of his hallway. needy boy didn’t even want to allow you to get inside properly and ditch your clothes. he was just too, too eager for you.

“you looked so good out there tonight. fuck, ive been waiting so long to just consume you”

movie director!onyankopon gathers you from your ass as he lifts you up with ease, his strong build showing as he’s able to plonk you down onto the waist lengthed drawer within the hallway that was lined with prized awards.

oscars, tonys and grammys — didnt matter! swipped to the side as movie director!onyankopon is in a hurry to have a taste at you. worship you the best way he knows.

“sorry, ive just got to have you.”

“like id ever tell you no.”

movie director!onyankopon tugs your dress upwards but its a struggle. the material made it hug your body so perfectly that the practicality of removing it was tailored to be done from the top, but movie director!onyankopon didn’t have time for that! eventually he got your dress to pool just below your stomach but your panties are in the way and he’s just too impatient to go over this again.

“fuck it…” he mumbles as he crouches down onto his knees and only slips your panties to the side, his fingers taking no liberties as he delves two fingers straight in.

in the process, you lean your head back in pleasure. however, unaware but within that bliss, your head accidentally collides with movie director!onyankopon prized possession — andy warhol’s original chanel no. 4 painting.

movie director!onyankopon hears the crack of the canvas caving in and he knows he’s going to be so pissed about that in the morning but it doesn’t fucking matter. right now he has the closest thing to a god to needs attending to.

“oh my god! ony, im so sorry!”

you try writhing your body round to see the damage but movie director!onyankopon is hooking you in place with his free arm.

“dont worry ‘bout it.” he mumbles, face already between your legs. “ive got way more important things to worry about right now.”

if you had any other objections then they weren’t voiced. the addition of movie director!onyankopon’s mouth suckling at your clit while his fingers pumped long and thick inside of you made you quickly forget the issue at hand.

“shit, shit, shiiiit.”

with your hands coercing the back of his head further between your thighs, you couldn’t help but sinfully smile at how nice it felt to be worshipped. how nice it felt to have someone prove their words in practice. how nice it felt to feel like a deity.

#onyankopon smut #onyankopon aot #onyankopon x black reader #onyankopon x reader #onyankopon #aot imagines #aot x black reader #aot imagine #aot headcanons #aot x you #attack on titan

381 notes · View notes

mybabygirlelsa · 5 months

Text

Elsa in Frozen III / IV

I've been thinking about Frozen 3 and 4 a lot lately (surprise, surprise) and while I am beyond excited about the epicness we're promised, what I really want to see (and hope they will show us) is Elsa being the dork we all know she is. Don't get me wrong, Frozen 2 did have such moments; but now Elsa is truly, actually, properly, fully free to be herself. And just thinking about it makes my heart burst.

Like, I imagine this idiot being absolutely unhinged.

She does competitive swimming against the Nokk, and cannonballs into piles of snow/leaves with Bruni. She takes naps with the Giants, and dances with Gale. She goes around the Enchanted Forest singing songs and having snowball fights, which she loses because she plays fair. She races barefoot against Honeymaren and Ryder while they're riding their reindeer. She makes horrible puns that she delivers with winks and finger guns, she sets up silly pranks that everyone finds twice as amusing because of her blissful maniacal gremlin giggles. She plays hide-and-seek with the Spirits, and climbs trees just to land cat-like behind Anna to spook her when she visits the Forest. She makes snow slides for the children, and they have so much fun with it, that she joins in the game, too. She sends thousands of letters to her sister to tell her about all the new fish and birds and animals she's encountered, and then makes forts in the Castle Library to read all about them. She brings new flowers for Anna's study every week, which she spent days picking because she wanted only the best for her little sister. She's still terrible at charades but now she jokes about it. She talks to Kristoff about reindeer endlessly, mentioning the names that she assigned to those in the Forest, leaving him confused but happy to converse with his sister-in-law about something that he loves. She brings the Northuldra chocolate. She gets up every morning to watch the sunrise, and stops whatever she's doing to watch the sunset. She hides little snowmen all around the castle for Anna to find when she's having a bad day. She counts how many leaves fall from Olaf's favorite tree to help him keep track. She sneaks carrots to Sven. She randomly lies on the ground to sunbathe. She makes bets with Anna about where it will snow first, and whoever wins gets to put the carrot on the snowman they build wherever it snowed.

She's this sweet, fun-loving, mischievous, and happy person that everyone wants to be around, because she's so fucking interesting and fun and smart and kind. She's the person she was forced to hide. She's having the fun she missed all those years, and she does childish things just because she can, because she's finally free; free to explore the world and learn new things, free to feel her emotions. She's finally free to show herself.

And she's overjoyed to be alive.

#just thinking about this makes me emotional #she deserves all the happiness #i want to see her happy #i want 3 hours of her just enjoying life #she fucking deserves it #frozen #frozen 3 #frozen 4 #elsa #i love her so much

51 notes · View notes

vamossainz55 · 2 years

Text

Yours. (1.8k) || Carlos Sainz Jr x Reader / Requested

helloooo, so i decided to combine these two reqs together. i hope it makes sense. i don't really have the 'she fell first' but carlos is definitely head over heels obsessed w reader in this one. also closest thing to spicy time ive publicly posted but borderline smut so pls read it with that in mind. the tiktok sent by anon made me feel things 💀. anywayws i hope i was able to encapsulate both requests and if not pls feel free to resend it and i'll write it again <33

warnings: 18+ technically, mentions or or*al, nothing more extreme and just sexual tension in general lmao.

enjoy!

______________________

Carlos is obsessed with you, every single little thing about you drives him crazy.

Your beautiful eyes and long lashes that are always giving him doe-eyed looks, your lips and the way they twitch into a smile whenever you’re holding back a laugh, and don’t even get him started with the sweet little noises that leave them whenever he slowly trails kisses down your neck, shoulders, chest, to where you usually want him most.

He could stare at you for ages for all he cared, because every single thought in his head revolved around you. He’s not even embarrassed to admit it, letting you know every day, every hour, every minute. As long as you were willing to listen to him he’d let you know, shower you with every single praise possible, because that is what you deserved. You always laughed it off, told him Sure Carlos, whatever you say. But little did you know that he meant every single word of it. Always.

You slowly shift in his arms which finally makes him break out of his thoughts. His arms tighten around you to pull you closer as he gently brushes one of the strands of your hair behind your ear before giving your forehead a kiss. You’re still asleep and he can’t help but nuzzle his face into your hair, taking a moment to breathe you in. Your legs are tangled with his and the memories from the night before are still fresh in his mind, and he lets out a deep and satisfied breath. He lays there for a while, what feels like hours. With you everything slowed down, it was like he was stuck in his own little bubble, his own little dream.

His body betrays him once his stomach grumbles though, and it takes him all his will power to slowly pull away from you. He gently places a pillow in his place and tucks you back into the covers before he’s quickly slipping on some boxers and hurrying to the kitchen. He opens the fridge door slowly, shivering at the gush of cold air that envelops him as he grabs eggs, bacon, and a few other things to prepare for you.

He catches himself in the reflection of the window and he can’t help but to fix his own hair, trying to undo your mess from the night before. Once the pan he had heated up was warm enough he starts preparing some of the bacon, happily sighing as the sound of it sizzling invades his senses. He takes this time to brew the coffee and open both the window and the balcony door to let the summer breeze come in, singing to himself one of the songs you had been playing on replay during every drive. The sound of birds and the gentle ocean waves flow perfectly into the apartment and he goes back to the stove, checking on the bacon before leaning back against the island.

It had been a week since the summer break started, and he had been flooded with questions from the reporters about what he was gonna do, the plans of the summer, and what he was excited about the most. Of course he said to take some time off, to enjoy the sun, and to have fun, but what he was excited about the most was small moments like today. It was waking up in the morning with you still in his arms, being able to enjoy cooking you breakfast, and more importantly, getting to see you like this right now, dazed from the sleep and last night’s activities.

“Morning.” You say, walking out in Carlos’ Real Madrid shirt. Your hair is tied up lazily and you stumble into his arms, stuffing your face into your chest.

“Good morning princesa,” Carlos says, kissing the top of your head as he wraps his arms around you. He can’t help but gently run his hand down the curve of your back, humming.

“Last night was good, no?” He asks, you pull away slowly from the hug and he can’t help but smirk when he notices all the marks littered on your neck. You fix your hair a bit and nod, smiling up at him again with those big eyes and he can’t help but lean back down to give you a kiss.

“Very good,” You promise, hand already trailing down Carlos’ chest. Carlos tsks, grabbing your wrist.

“Breakfast first mi amor.” He says before lifting your hand and you smile and shake your head before letting Carlos twirl you. You laugh as you spin in circles, and you continue to spin as long as you can before you feel a bit dizzy.

“Enough, enough,” You say, smiling from ear to ear. Carlos gently lets go of your hands but holds your hips instead, soon hoisting you onto the kitchen counter. You rest your hands beside yourself before Carlos is going to take care of the food.

It’s not until you’re both seated, quietly eating breakfast when Carlos speaks up. “Happy anniversary cariño,” He says with a smile. It’s not like you hadn’t said it to each other -you had the night before at midnight- but you smile and blush regardless.

“Feliz aniversario,” You say with a smile (and a little help of google translate), and you can see the way Carlos lights up.

It’s later that evening that you both go out to celebrate. You were much less amused than Carlos when you notice all the marks littering your neck. It takes a lot of concealer and powder to cover everything, and even then you still feel like it wasn’t enough. Once you’re done with your make up and head to the closet, you feel strong arms wrap around your waist from behind before lips are once again gently grazing your neck.

“Babe,” You say fondly, craning your neck away. “I just covered everything, don’t you dare.” You say and smile when Carlos lets out a small complaint before letting go of your waist. “So what should I wear?” You ask, because frankly you had no idea. The driver had promised to surprise you on the anniversary date so he had completely hidden the plans from you. Of course you let it slide, until now, when you realized you really didn’t know what to wear. Your boyfriend was already wearing a sleek black suit so you knew you had to dress up. Had you even brought anything really fancy?

“I actually have your outfit sorted.” he smiles before sneaking to the back of the closet and opening one of the drawers. He takes out a black bag that makes your brows furrow, it’s only when he comes closer that you realize it’s a versace bag.

“Carlos,” You say, shaking your head as you gently take the bag from him. You had tried refusing his gifts for ages, but one thing you both learned during the past years was that Carlos absolutely loved spoiling you.

He watches you curiously peak into the bag before pulling out the box inside. You gently set the bag down before Carlos helps with the box. He holds it for you as you slowly open it to peak in and your eyes sparkle at the sight.

“Carlos, this is beautiful,” You breathe out once your eyes land onto a beautiful red fabric. He slowly helps take it out and you gently unfold the dress to see it in its full beauty. The shade is stunning and your hands gently run over the small sequins that are in the front dress, over the chest area. The dress then curves down into a corset style before the fabric flows back down to the floor.

“I want to see you with this on mi amor,” Carlos says, gently lifting your hand up to his mouth to pepper kisses onto your knuckles. You smile and lean closer to give him a lingering peck before you’re turning to go change in the room. You stop when Carlos clicks his tongue though, turning back to face him. “You can change here,” He says, and his voice is low and hungry and you can’t help but feel your cheeks heat up from the way your knees go weak for a second.

His eyes are following your every movement, watching you slowly slip off your shirt before you move for your shorts. The way his tongue slips over his bottom lip drives you crazy but you push yourself to slip the dress on.

“It feels so good, the fabric is amazing,” You say, slowly pulling the straps over your shoulders as you pull the dress up. Carlos hums and nods, soon coming close to you. Both his hands hold your waist as a way to tell you to stand still and you comply with his request. Soon he is zipping your dress up, eyeing your back as he did so.

“It looks beautiful on you,” He says with a smile, stepping away to get a full look at you. He smiles and gestures you to spin with his finger and you smile as you follow his instructions, doing a quick twirl.

“Perfect,” He says, slowly coming close before giving you a sweet kiss on your lips. “I got you new shoes too,” He says, slowly pulling at your hand to go back to the bedroom. You can’t help but shake your head, amazed at how much your boyfriend liked spoiling you.

Soon you were sitting down on the edge of the bed, watching your boyfriend slowly take a pair of valentino stilettos out of their box. He’s leaning in front of you, gently running his hand under your calve to get you to stretch out your leg. Once you comply he gently slips it on your foot, smiling when he sees it fit you perfectly.

“Do you like them?” He asks, looking up at you with his large puppy dog eyes and you can’t help but lean down, cupping his cheek before giving him several kisses.

“I love them Carlos. I love you. Thank you,” You say in between kisses. He only pulls away to slip the other heel on your foot and you gently run your fingers through his hair, murmuring another thanks.

You think he’s about to get up but he holds you by the ankle instead, gently peppers kisses over the inside of your ankle. You might had forgotten how he had looked at you whilst you were getting dressed, but he definitely hadn’t.

“Carlos,” You murmur, letting out a shaky breath when he begins to trail his kisses up. Your other hand makes it into his hair as well feeling his tongue swipe at your skin as he only moves closer. He uses his hands to gently push your legs apart, ducking his head under your dress shamelessly. His kisses are wet and sloppy and his stubble is rubbing your skin just right.

“We need to go soon,” You breathe out, and despite your words, your grip is tightening on his hair, not wanting to let go.

“Let me give you one more present before we leave baby,” He says, and how can you say no to that?

fin.

interested in reading more? check out my masterlist

my reqs are currently open!

811 notes · View notes

blingblong55 · 1 year

Text

Tear you apart- 141 +König, Keegan, Graves

Fem!Reader, Siren Au

This is based on a request:

For context:

You have your second life hidden from those at base, thankfully your kind has evolved over the years and you can shape shift into a human. However your powers remain. The ability of you to attract anyone whether it is sexually or romantically is strong. For example ever since you got to work with the task force, you've noticed how they are all enchanted by your beauty. How you always call to them even when you don't mean to. Unlike the descriptions of sirens you were more on the kinder side than most, you only used your powers to help your team, family and friends. You never harmed anyone unless needed to.

After all, every man that ever describe you hade one notorious name at hand: she was a temptress, a jezebel if you please.

These have been their personal reactions to such abilities:

Price:

A week after he met you, you lured him in.

You were singing, thinking nothing of it, when he walked in he was in trance.

He didn't talk, his eyes glistened and as you smiled at him thinking he needed something, he got closer to you.

His pupils dilated once he touched your skin

"price?"

"You..are the most beautiful woman ive ever seen!" he was in awe, whilst you were seriously creeped out by him.

Then it hit and you looked deep in his eyes, "go back to your office."

But he didn't listen, the longer he heard your voice the longer he was bewitched and he wanted to remain by your side.

So you waited and waited, soon he was out of trance, confused and lost.

Gaz:

One time by accident you had to lie to him. He had asked about your life outside of the military, but his questions were very concerning, he was onto you.

So you sat him down, your voice calm, "my life is a mystery, I know." your lips close to his ears,

His eyes stared at yours, a slight glisten appeared on them.

"But what matters is you, isn't that right?" He was speechless just nodding and smiling

"Good, how about we don't ask about me and let's only think about work and other stuff yeah?" Your eyes now on his,

He leaned in, "tsk tsk, it'll be no good if we kiss" you shook your head,

By the morning he was out of trance, but everywhere you went he would follow.

Always willing to protect you, he was now a devoted soldier to you and your needs.

Keegan:

He was always quite before you showed up on base

Always keeping to himself, but soon when he heard you laugh and talk, he was soon being seduced by you

One time when he saw how the sun shone on your soft skin, he approached you.

"You are beautiful." His hands reached out to you.

You knew was what going on, so you grabbed his hand and let him to you room.

"don't do anything stupid, you hear me sergeant?"

He nods, but is dumbfounded by your beauty. He looks at you with great love.

You tried your best, but he too followed your around ever since, and if it were to your cruel fellow siren, he'd been dead the minute he approached you.

Soap:

This man had heard about sirens his whole life, but never did he think they were true, so he never took precautions.

And unfortunately he too was bewitched by your singing. That particular day you felt home sick and started singing a melody that had been previously used to harm sailors.

Your sweet melodic voice called to him, fortunately he only stared at you, never did he look away.

His lazy smile plastered all over his face, "I'm all yours." he repeated over and over.

You tried shushing him, and then a soldier came near you, Soap went feral, the poor soldier ran away and you held soap in your arms.

His head soon was placed on your chest. You hummed and he calmed down. "Stay near but don't you dare fight." you demanded.

His hands wrapped around your waist, this was the same trick your grandmother used on many men, she too was one of the kind sirens back home.

The same situation happened over and over, and you knew how to tame his needs to kill for you. Just a sweet hum and he was fine.

Philip Graves:

This man was the first victim to fall for your beauty.

He never stopped talking about you to others when he was away

He was the one of the dangerous ones from all of the other men that fell into your temptations.

The first time that he fell victim to your beauty was a year ago, the moon light shined just right on your skin, and his eyes glistened the second he met yours. He walked up to you.

His hands wandered around your face, he was enamored.

And to no prevail he was going to stay your most loyal soldier.

Like Soap, you had to hum his killing instincts away. Always near him not for your own safety but for his and those who got close to you

There have been multiple occasions where you have had shadow company hide bodies, and many more times where have had to tie him up, just to keep other safe.

Ghost:

This man was a fool when it came to your enchanting looks.

As you watched the other men crumble in your presence you wanted him to do the same.

It was cruel but this would be the only way to keep him safe from Graves and Soap.

But after failed plans you gave up, until one day while at the field.

You really did think that you were dying, and as a tradition, imposed by relatives you started to sing the melody you had been taught was only meant for a sirens death.

He went through extreme measures to keep you safe, "I'm here." he said covered in blood.

You later learned that Graves was no longer your most loyal and dangerous solider, it was Ghost.

When you sing the song of death, your devoted slaves will back away and by instincts will look kill those that are a threat to you, they won't be harmed when you try healing. So be smart when choosing.

König:

He was your favorite, his gentleness and sweet charm attracted you to him.

But it was your beauty and voice that had made him reach out to you.

It all started when you were humming, he waited outside and when soap walked out, you saw the same glisten in his eyes.

"You called?" his soft sweet voice sending shivers down your spine.

You never wanted him to fall in the traps of your charms

"Please..no you too!" he was too good for you, but here he was a month later, holding a mans head on his hands. The same man that disrespected you minutes before.

"Only for you." he held your hand and walked you out of the bar,

And as time progressed his actions always balanced eachother out, he was always doing kind actions that would make your military job easier, and there were times where you also had to tame him.

Humming a tune as his soft sniffles left his mouth, "you are mad right?" "never" your hands combing his hair.

-----

It's only just a crush, it'll go away It's just like all the others it'll go away Or maybe this is danger and he just don't know You pray it all away but it continues to grow

-----------------

A/N: I adored writing this one! idk if this is what anon had in mind but I hope you enjoyed it!! <33

104 notes · View notes

mitskiluvers · 1 year

Text

some random st headcanons ive been brewing here

- els favorite game is monopoly. she’ll beg will and jonathan to play it with her every saturday... they always end up saying yes ofc ofc

- robins and steve cant eat vanilla ice cream without gagging because of their job at scoops (and the russians. they usually connect the two)

- will doesnt know how to paint girls. hes always had an easier time drawing guys growning up (drawing mike)

- lucas snaps his fingers when he gets really nervous

- steve is a hardcore ABBA fan, nancy catches him belting to mamma mia one night and constantly blackmails him for it

- after max wakes up, she cuts her hair (a little like els in season 3) ... impulsively, ofc...

- mike is TERRIFIED of spiders. will always has to kill them for him.

- nancy has a collection of skincare products. she always gives little samples for robin to use aswell. robin never does, but shes happy for the gesture

- when everyone meets vickie, nancy is really really stand offish. she HATES vickie, and no one knows why (steve thinks shes just jealous of how close her and robin are) (hes correct)

- robin and hopper get really close. they solve mysteries together and what not in s5

- lucas has a crush on daphne, max teases him about having a type

- joyce is amazing at cooking

- erica and holly both mutually agree that they look up to nancy. el and max overhear them and suddenly they are involved too... they have their own nancy wheeler club and robin supervises

- in the mornings, robin is extra clumsy. nancy thinks its the cutest thing, robin always finds herself hurting with bruises

- dustin is an amazing singer.. they find out when they catch him singing “beat it”

- mike is a little spoon i dont care. when hes with will he always ends up falling off the bed

- also, mike puts the milk first cuz he likes it soggy

- dustin and lucas find out they had crushes on eachother in 4th grade and laugh about it to this day

- will and mike get eleven’d so hard. ALL THE TIME. whether its paring them up together for literally anything, or using her powers to push them together. she does this even before mike and her break up.

- will and el give people death stares in public for no reason

- mike always comes to see max 3 times a week to help her get her memory back. he tells her about most of the events in s2, but leavs out the parts where he was mean to her. he wanted a fresh start

- dustin, nancy, steve and robin make eddie a grave in the two day time skip period.

reblog with some of your headcanons

342 notes · View notes

heart4reigns · 11 months

Text

OPERATION: TOGETHER, roman reigns and cody rhodes (iv).

← previous chapter | next chapter →

warnings: curse words, alcohol mentioned [the characterization you read in this fic doesn't represent them in real life (please separate fact and fiction)]

tags: (y/n) and cody finally getting along, do i smell jealous? yes i do!! twins in action once again, roman and (y/n) doesn’t argue in this one

THE sound of your alarm woke you up. the first thing you noticed when you opened your eyes was your clothes. you were still in yesterday's clothes. you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as memories flashed inside your mind. you remembered the events from last night. drinking with cody, opening up, finally accepting his friendship, throwing a tantrum at roman, and then crying your eyes out... it was indeed a wild night for you. you cringed at the memories, trying your best to push them away.

to say the least, hangover wasn't really a problem to you as you were used to drinking back when you were younger. now all you had to do was face the day, acknowledging all your doings from yesterday. it was 7 in the morning and you had to go to the arena to check on the production for today's show.

as you exited the room (with your fresh set of clothes), you felt someone tap your shoulders. you turned around and saw the same face you saw yesterday. "hi." cody smiled. you didn't know to respond as you once again remembered last night's fiasco. "how's your head? i have some tylenols if you want." you shook your head. "i'm good." was all that came out of your mouth. "if you say so." there was silence between the two of you.

"and why are you awake? your show starts later." you asked him. "i was gonna drop my costume and probably get some breakfast, i heard there was some good breakfast tacos near the arena... cheat day for me." he couldn't stop rambling. "what about you?" cody returned the question. "going to the arena to check the stage." cody's eyes lit up. "then let's go!"

once again, there you were–in his car, listening to him singing along to a country song that you have never heard before. "we can check out the taco spot together after this if you want to come... i'm not forcing you to go with me though. it's all your choice." you furrowed your eyebrows as he kept on rambling. "okay, fine. just because it's actually a good place. i've had it before."

the two of you arrived at the arena. you parted ways with him since he was going to deal with costumes and you were going to check with the logistics. "i'll text you later." you said to him, earning a nod. "let me know if you're done! see you!" you walked away from him, scanning the arena. the ring was already finished, you slid inside checking several spots.

"haven't seen you in awhile." you looked up and saw your boss, paul. "oh, i've been busy." you admitted. "yeah, i heard from the twins that you were pushing everyone to their limits." paul said. "it's gonna be one of their biggest feuds in years, of course i want it to be perfect." you pulled on the ropes, checking if they were strong enough to hold the wrestlers physique. “i’ll be here to help you tonight, don’t worry son.”

the two of you talked about the progress until a certain bleached-blond wrestler waved at you. you face-palmed as you saw him walking up to you. “are you done?” he asked. “yeah, i was just about to call you.” paul looked amused. “oh, making friends now?” he chuckled. “shut up, i can’t just have my boss as my friend.” you rolled your eyes. “anyways, see you tonight. i’m bouncing.” cody followed you to the parking lot, bidding goodbyes to his boss.

you paid for the food, insisting it as an emotional compensation for last night’s fiasco. cody devoured his breakfast like there was no tomorrow, not acknowledging that you were still sort of embarrassed by your outburst last night. “if you wanna apologize for last night,” he chewed his food. “you don’t have to, it was fun actually.” you still didn’t get him, but you were getting used to his presence.

“fine.” you muttered, taking a bite of your food. “but that doesn’t mean i’ll go out drinking with you again, rhodes.” he only grinned as a response. the two of you ate in silence. cody was about to say something before he stopped himself. “shoot the question before i throw this taco at you.” you glared at him. “never mind.” the wrestler shrugged his shoulders. “say it.” you threatened him with your fork.

“i don’t know… it’s quite personal.” he hesitated again. you knew he was going to ask about roman. “yes cody, i despise roman that much.” you stated. “to be fair, you have every reason to hate him.” that caught you off guard. “your feelings are valid, i just don’t know exactly what happened to you guys. but, hey! i’m all ears if you wanna talk about it.”

his sentence felt genuine. no matter how many times you tried to deny it, cody was a good person. he was actually trying to be your friend without taking you for granted (as far as you know). you sighed as you put down your food. “what happened between me and roman was in the past. you heard all those rumors and so, about how i cheated, about how we ‘mutually’ broke up, about all those shit… it wasn’t like that.” you confessed.

“he took me for granted. end of story.” even cody knew that the break up wasn’t your fault at all. it became a locker room gossip at first, but people never actually found out what happened between roman and you. “oh…” was all that came out from his mouth. “if you wanna dig up my past, then fine. but this is coming from me, the real source–roman reigns is a fucking dickhead when it comes to loving someone.” you drank your water, leaving cody flabbergasted. “right, don’t worry (y/n). i believe you.”

truthfully, you didn’t need people to believe you. you just wanted people to know that you were in fact still hurting. “i don’t need you to pick sides, he’s gonna be your partner in the ring for a long time.” he shook his head. “no, no. of course i’ll still work with him, it’s just… i just want to be friends with you (y/n).” he admitted once again. “what is it with you, rhodes? do you want a push? do you want something else?” you chuckled. once again, cody sighed in relief when he heard your chuckles. “not at all, i just wanna be friends without wanting anything in return. jesus, (y/n).” cody groaned.

you felt bad. this man was the first person to slowly crack you open after your break up. “i’m sorry. i’m not used to it.” you finally gave in and apologized. “it’s okay to put your guard up, but i’m serious right now-“ his sentence was cut off by a person standing in front of your table. “h- hi, can you sign my shirt?” a little boy approached cody. his eyes lit up in excitement. “hi buddy, sure!” you were trying your best to not crack a smile. cody took the sharpie and signed his shirt. “i wanna be like you when i grow up.” your heart melted.

“thank you so much, i can’t wait to watch you tonight!” the fan was having the time of his life. “i’ll give the best performance for you!” he waved at the fan and faced you again. cody saw that you were slightly smiling at the interaction. you had a soft spot for kids, especially the ones who were interested in your wrestling. you were once like him, having hopes and dreams of being a wrestler. that was until you were pulled by your dad from the ring. that was why you had so much passion for your job.

“as i was saying,” he was backtracking to his past sentence. “i’ll be there if you need anything. you can actually count on me, (y/n).” he smiled and you couldn’t help but to mimic his expression. you were smiling. “i made you smile!” his eyes widened in surprise. “shut the fuck up before i kick your ass, rhodes.”

showtime came and you were monitoring from the backstage. you had your earpiece in, ready to go. 30 minutes before showtime, you thought. you quickly ran to the locker room, briefing the talents for tonight. you knocked on the door, breathing heavily. “(y/n)?” to your luck, it was roman who opened the door. the man was wearing a t-shirt and his black trainers, his usual setup. his hair was still down, curls grew longer than usual. you mentally slapped yourself, “30 minutes before showtime, tell everyone to gather around.” without wanting to argue, roman nodded at your command. “okay.” you went to the other side, getting your other talent. “cody, open up!” you knocked. “it’s unlocked!”

he was already in his ‘promo’ suit and damn, he looked good, you thought. “my eyes are up here.” you smacked his shoulder. “30 minutes before showtime, let’s go.” he nodded and followed you. the bloodline was already there; jimmy and jey messing around like usual, solo gazing out, paul heyman fixing his suit, and roman was just standing there.

“right. now that everyone is here,” you paused for a second, pulling out your papers. “i don’t want anyone to fuck up. deliver your lines like usual, like we practiced. i won’t be taking any excuses.” everyone nodded in unison, trying to get on your good side. you were in your working mode, meaning no one dared to mess with you. “once again, if you fuck things up, you’ll be dealing with me.” your tone was cold like usual. paul (not the wiseman) popped up in the room. “why does everyone look like they are going to cry?” he asked, earning a glare from you. “that’s my cue to shut up.” paul laughed. “have fun tonight boys, don’t let her scare you! she’s harmless!”

the night went on and you were monitoring the cameras. “switch to camera 17.” you said to the earpiece. “right, ms. (l/n).” the staff replied. “i’ll be moving to sound, if anyone needs me just talk to me through the earpiece.” the crew nodded as you made your way to the sound room. “rhodes’s music in 5.” roman was delivering his lines and cody was supposed to interrupt him, like the script played out. you saw cody standing on the side of the exit door, he was fidgeting. “yo.” you patted his back. “calm down, you’re a professional. you can do this.” your words got into him, he flashed you a smile. “that’s the first compliment i got from you, thanks (y/n).” “don’t fuck up or it’ll be the last compliment i’ll be giving you.” still so professional, he thought.

“switch to echo, i think it’s better.” you said to the sound crew. “yes, ma’am.” paul was right next to you, muttering some words to the earpiece as well. “it’s going smoothly than expected. since this is the first time cody is in the ring with roman.” paul sighed in relief. “i think you got into their skin, they don’t wanna mess up because of you, son.” the man nudged you. “i’ve crafted this to perfection, if something goes wrong. it’s not my fault.”

everyone was satisfied with the night. it went perfectly as planned, no botches, the crowd loved it. the talents went backstage, feeling relieved that their night was done. but they couldn’t go home before you gave them the evaluations for tonight’s performance. as you entered the locker room, no one could read your expression. were you satisfied? were you ready to spit fire on them? no one knew. “good job.” was all that came from your mouth. “i’ll be expecting you all to keep it like this.” before anyone could say anything, you exited the room, continuing your job.

roman noticed that cody was stood up from his seat, wanting to follow you. at this point, he was just confused with your new friendship with cody. “what are you, her dog?” his sentence caught cody’s attention. “what?” he asked. “you follow her around, like a dog. she doesn’t need your help, you know.” roman said as he unwrapped his gloves. “i’m not her dog, i’m her friend.” cody clenched his fist. roman could only chuckle at his answer. “friend? good luck with that.” jey sighed in frustration. “that’s enough, uce. let the man be.” he gave cody a sympathetic smile.

“i don’t like him.” roman said, after cody left the room. “why?” roman shrugged his shoulders, leaning back on the couch. “man, you gotta realize that you’re no one to (y/n) now.” solo finally spoke up. “i know that.” he muttered in response. “could be anyone, but just not him… i don’t fuck with that dude being friends with (y/n). and why isn’t she bothered by him? thought she hated everyone here.”

“well she doesn’t hate us, she hates you.” “way to rub it in.”

was it jealousy? roman thought. no, he was so over you. but as soon as he exited the room, the champion saw you cracking a small smile to cody–it was in fact, jealousy.

a/n: i promise im gonna write a (y/n) and roman interaction in the next chapter (are they gonna argue or not???? who knows)

#roman reigns #the usos #wwe #wwe imagines #paul heyman #jey uso #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns x reader #wrestling #cody rhodes #jimmy uso #cody rhodes imagine #cody rhodes x reader

102 notes · View notes

winterchimez · 5 months

Text

Redemption of Love - Chapter 2

SUMMARY: Choi Chanhee—better known as the Phantom of the Opera, has dominated the Paris Opera House with his lifelong partner, Christine Daae, for years. Until one fateful day, an incident forces them to be separated and never to be reunited again.

Decades later, you have begun your journey here at the famous opera house with the help of your fiancé, Lee Sangyeon. After several performances, it was then that you would come face-to-face with the renowned phantom himself, and he is determined to never let you go again, convinced that you were his long-lost partner whom he has not seen in many years.

It is now your choice to make. To give your heart to the once-forgotten phantom? Or to stand firm and marry the love of your life.

PAIRING: phantom of the opera Chanhee x singer f!reader x fiancé Sangyeon

GENRE & WARNINGS: phantom of the opera au, angst, supernatural, thriller, crime, fluff, time travel, reincarnation, major & minor character deaths, otome, pg-13

WORD COUNT: 2,417

A/N: hi hello! it's been a while since ive updated this and i apologise for that 😭 but Chanhee finally makes his appearance in this one so yall better buckle up 👀

It was thirty minutes before the show was about to start, and everyone was getting their final bits done, doing some final touchups on their makeup, and even ensuring the props were placed in their right positions. You were getting ready as you decided to move closer to the stage and slightly peered at what was out there.

The hall was filled and packed with audiences despite still having ample time before the show began. With that, you were now a nervous wreck. You feel your legs go numb, and your heartbeat is ten times faster than you would usually feel before getting ready for a performance.

Sure, you are considered one of the seasoned backup dancers for the opera house, but never once have you had to step in for an actual lead role and perform at one of the world’s renowned opera houses and in front of thousands of audiences.

Suddenly, you felt a string of knots form within your belly. You were so nervous that your anxiety kicked to the point that you needed to wrap your arms around yourself to refrain from causing a scene backstage.

That was when you felt a hand on your shoulder; it was Avaleigh.

“Honestly, Avaleigh. This is such a bad idea, I know I shouldn’t have—”

“Calm down, Y/N. Remember the breathing exercises we’ve always done whenever we did warm-ups together before rehearsals?” Avaleigh cut you off and tried her best to calm you down, reassuring you that everything would be alright.

“B-but, what if I don’t perform the way Madame would? The crowd would surely be disappointed, especially with how she has been the face of the Opera House for a decade now.”

“Y/N, this isn’t about Madame. It’s all about you portraying your best out there. You don’t have to live in Madame’s shadows or take over her personality. You go out there and just be yourself, exactly like how you’ve proved Mr Arnaud and Mr Arquette this morning.”

With one gentle slap to your back to wake you up from your senses, Avaleigh gave you one last smile before returning backstage to reunite with the other dancers as the lights began to dim in the auditorium, indicating that the show was about to start.

That was it. The stage was now all yours as you had to step out to sing the opening act before the rest of the cast members would join you in the following act.

Taking a few deep breaths, you constantly reassured yourself that everything would be alright.

You proved yourself worthy and finally got the chance to be in the spotlight after many months, Y/N. It is truly your time to shine now.

When the lights went off throughout the theatre, it was your time to move towards the center of the stage within five seconds before the spotlight would eventually shine down on you.

You counted internally as you moved towards your spot; eventually, the spotlight shone upon you.

Sure enough, you heard a few gasps throughout the entire theatre. There was no doubt that people expected Madame Indivus to be the one up on stage, not some other actresses who would replace her at the last minute. Through the corners of your eyes, you noticed how several people began whispering amongst each other, and that just made the knot in your stomach feel ten times worse than before.

That was until you landed your eyes upon your fiancé sitting below in the first few rows close to the stage. There was this look in his eyes that just calmed down your nerves almost instantly. He mouthed a little, “you can do it, love,” before giving you his signature smile, which you always loved and would make everything seem bearable even during tough times.

Returning a smile, you lifted your head high before finally opening your mouth to sing aloud, just as you presented yourself during the rehearsals.

Slowly, you began to relax your shoulders and felt all of the tension between your joints being released. This was when you finally let loose and portrayed your best talents that you have had for so long.

Almost instantly, smiles were plastered across the audience’s faces, giving you enough confidence to boost yourself and move on as you began singing the opening act smoothly as you practised.

Maybe, I could do this after all.

The show went on fairly smoothly and quickly for the next two hours, and you and your whole cast received a standing ovation at the end of the show. With you being in the center of the spotlight, it was a sign to you that the people have accepted you to be part of the leading actresses in the opera house, and so did both Mr Arnaud and Mr Arquette, who were both sitting in one of the stalls at the side that were always reserved for them both.

Your fiancé joined along with the crowd, throwing you a rose to the stage while the rest of the audience followed, indicating that it was all a successful show as all of you bowed and the curtains were laid slowly down on stage.

Immediately, your cast members were beyond proud and happy to be working with you for the upcoming shows, and they couldn’t wait to see what the next show would be before the opera house would be off for a week.

After some light refreshments and talking amongst each other, you slowly returned to your dressing room, turning the doorknob and opening the door to see the man you have longed for.

You immediately jumped into his arms as he caught you, spinning around in a few circles before placing you back down.

“You did so well, Y/N. Did you know that you were magnificent and captivating up there?”

“Now that’s rude. I thought I was always beautiful in your eyes.” You sulked.

“Of course, I was just joking; you know how much I love you, Y/N. You outperformed yourself up there. It brought me back to when we were both young and performing together in university,” Sangyeon remarked.

“Hey, we aren’t that old yet!” You were about to gently slap the man on the arm, seemingly waking him up from reality.

“Okay okay, miss Y/N,” he chuckled before he pulled out something that he had been hiding behind his back. “I got these for you.”

It was a bouquet of flowers, not just any flowers, but ones that you have always adored, lilies.

You took the bouquet in your hand, and you couldn’t help but bring it forth to whiff the fresh scent. “Aww, Sangyeon, you didn’t have to.”

“Just so you know, I handpicked these lilies myself. They came all the way from Romania, so you bet how hard I’ve taken care of them myself during my stay there and on the train back.” Sangyeon exclaimed, lifting his head up high as if he wanted the world to know that he had done such a good deed and needed to be praised aloud.

You giggled at the sight of your fiancé being childish in front of you, which you have gotten used to ever since you both started dating. It was a little something that you enjoyed, to be quite frankly. He was a pretty goofy guy, after all.

With that, you slowly placed the bouquet down into the white vase right by your vanity area, all while your fiancé approached you to give you a tight backhug.

“Say, Y/N. I’ve booked us a fancy dinner down at Bouillon Chartier. Care to join me for some candlelight dinner?”

“Why, of course, young man.”

You both broke off the hug and linked hands as you exited the room, turning off all the lights until you heard a faint voice.

Christine…christine…

“Y/N, is something wrong?”

As much as you swore you heard it, you did not want to make it a big deal or cause a commotion. Hence, you reassured that everything was fine and convinced yourself that it was probably all because of the fatigue you had been dealing with for the day.

Stepping out of the room, you slowly grabbed the doorknob before fully closing the door, hoping it was all in your mind.

Since that day, the audience has demanded that the opera house cast you in more shows for the remaining seasons. As a result, swarms of letters began to pile up in the office, leaving Mr Arnaud and Mr Arquette with no choice but to adhere to the public’s cries and wishes. Given that Madame Indivus was not returning for quite a while, they had no choice but to roster you as the lead female singer and actress until the season ends.

With that, you have been cast and performed a handful of productions since that first day. Thankfully, your confidence got better, and so did your performance on stage. The public now absolutely adored you, and your face would be plastered all across the Opera House, even up to the streets of Paris.

Of course, you were beyond grateful for that, as it has been your dream to finally perform at the famous Paris Opera House. It was why you even took up your studies in performing arts at Conservatoire de Paris in the first place.

Undoubtedly, your times at the facility were becoming much more prominent and memorable. You were able to get close to your cast members and break the ice between them, ensuring all of you worked together as a team to give the best performance for the season.

At the same time, your fiancé was now back with you in Paris, and he was doing as much as he could to support you and the opera house with his connections to the best of his abilities. There was nothing better than having him back with you in your arms.

However, amidst your grand success in the limelight, something eerie and terrifying has also been bothering you.

It seemed as if the voice you heard the other day in the dressing room was far beyond the last. Ever since your first grand performance, the voice has become much more prominent and frequent, even getting slightly louder each time you hear it. Given that most of the time, you would be in your dressing room alone to get ready for a show, the tension and air were significantly eerie, even making it hard to breathe at times.

Making sure you weren’t hallucinating, you went about the whole opera house, asking everyone if they had ever heard a mysterious voice. To your surprise, none of them has ever heard of such an occurrence; some even mentioned that it was all in your head, and you couldn’t blame them.

You tried getting your best friend, Avaleigh to return to your room one evening to see if she could hear anything at all. It turns out that your efforts were wasted, and there was no point trying to convince her because the tension in the air shifted once there was more than one person in the room.

With that, your only hope was your fiancé, Sangyeon.

After the final performance of the season, you insisted that Sangyeon were to visit your dressing room almost immediately once the audience began to head out to the exit.

Judging from your facial expressions as he entered the room, he knew something was fairly wrong.

“Y/N, have you been too exhausted lately? Is having back-to-back shows too much for you? If yes, I could always talk to Mr—”

“Sangyeon. Whatever I’m about to tell you now, please listen closely and carefully.” You cut him off before taking a huge breath, trying to cough up the words you have been desperately trying to tell him.

“I think…that there’s a ghost in this room.”

There was a silent pause before Sangyeon eventually cracked up in a burst of laughter.

“You must be insane, Y/N. I’m sure it’s definitely got to do with you being exhausted—”

“I’m not joking, Sangyeon! I’m serious; I have heard voices since that first day!” You exclaimed, trying your best to prove your point.

But clearly, your fiancé was not having it. “Y/N, ghosts aren’t real. There’s absolutely no way that you have been hearing things.”

“Oh yeah? Then let me prove it to you.”

With that, you placed your fingers onto his lips, silencing him. The room was quiet now, and you waited a few minutes, hoping the voice would reappear.

But it was to no avail.

Sangyeon sighed before gently taking your fingers away. “Y/N, babe. Let’s just go home now, shall we? I’ll have to meet with Mr Arnaud and Mr Arquette to discuss a few matters first, then I’ll be back to pick you up.”

You sighed, disappointed that you couldn’t even earn your fiancé’s trust.

As he left the room, you started packing your things away as you prepared to wait for his return.

That was until you heard the voice again.

Christine…christine…

However, it was getting louder this time.

Christine…CHRISTINE!

What was going on?

CHRISTINE!!!

With that scream, you turned to face your mirror, which was situated right by your vanity area. Sure enough, a dark figure, wearing a mask covering half his face, emerged from the reflection.

He reached out his hands to you.

“Christine…come to me…” the voice called out pleadingly, desperate and sad, wanting you to grant his wishes.

Indeed, there was no one else in this room, and you figured that “Christine” has got to be you.

You slowly walked towards the mirror before giving a soft, gentle reply. “Are you…calling for me?”

“Yes…I have been wanting to meet you for so long…”

“Umm…but who are you—”

“It is not safe to speak here…come with me…I will tell you everything…”

Well, a little trip to find the answers wouldn’t hurt after all.

With that, you slowly reached out your hand before the figure in the mirror extended theirs so that it was peaking out of the mirror now, grabbing firmly yet gently onto yours as he pulled you in closer, guiding you to enter into the mirror.

Just like that, your dressing room was now empty, with no one around, and you were being led further down into God knows where, your vision fully clouded and dark.

“Oh Christine, how long have I finally waited to be reunited with you.”

series masterlist

main masterlist

taglist: @deoboyznet @kflixnet @k-films @flwoie @zzoguri @kyusqult @atinycafe @hanniluvi @tinkerbell460 @cheonsafics @sulkygyu @jaerisdiction @heemingyu @lngwayup @ilovechanhee @piripurora (join my permanent taglist here!)

29 notes · View notes

anjelicawrites · 5 months

Text

The winner takes it all

Chapter VII (I, II, III, IV, V, VI)

Paring: Aemond Targaryen x reader

Synopsis: inspired by the Æthelflæd and Erik's story line in The Last Kingdom. Might be spoilerish if you haven't seen it (go watch it!!!), even though I've just stolen the inspiration and went on with the story my way.

Warnings: Canon compliant violence, Aemond losing his eye, talk of murder and family annihilation, anxiety, rage.

A/N: reader is AFAB, they/them pronouns are used (they are called “lady” and “daughter of the North”). The only descriptor is that they have long hair.

A/N 1: this is an AU. Look at me taking the canon story of Westeros and yell “Parkhour!” as I jump out of the window clutching it in my hands.

When you wake up Aemond is nowhere to be seen. He’s disturbed the bed on his side to keep up the charade of sharing it with you and you are alarmed that you hadn’t even noticed him doing so. You turn your head in the general direction of the windows when you don’t hear the usual commotion in the courtyard: what is going on? As silently as possible you open one of the windows and see that the majority of the soldiers are nowhere to be found, only a small group of them remains to guard the castle.

As soon as your handmaiden arrives, you ask her and she responds curtly

“Everyone to battle”.

Your heart sinks and sings at the same time, you try as hard as you can to hide your excitement to the woman: with the castle mostly empty, will you have a chance to escape? Your personal guard hasn’t been depleted, following you around while you try to gauge your possibilities of an escape, horseless and in a part of the country that offers no hiding spots.

Your wandering is stopped by a group of women who address you in Valyrian, their tone urgent; the more you tell them you don’t understand, the more insistent they become, until one of the members of your guard, a boy with big eyes translates for you: you are supposed to organize their work, until everyone is back, since you are Aemond’s wife. This takes you aback: you are a foreigner, your people are fighting, still those Valyrian women look up to you for guidance. With a deep sigh you start working, using the guard as your translator, while plans upon plans marinate in the back of your mind, until it’s almost evening and you realize you have nowhere to go.

Your hand abandons the fork and you have to fight your stomach to keep the food down: you are not sure if the news of your marriage has reached your people, but something tells you that it did. If it didn’t, you’d still have to deal with your husband, after your fight in the cell; if you let him hit you until he’s satisfied, he’ll probably kill you, if you kill him, you need to be smart about it. This if your new status hadn’t reached your people, if it had, you are not sure anyone will ever welcome and help you: every avenue is blocked, because Aemond made you a de facto traitor.

In a fit of rage you grab the goblet and smash it against the wall, where is followed by the plate, the cutlery and the tray; the only reason you don’t flip the table is because it is too heavy. With a roar you open Aemond’s trunk and tear through all the clothes he’s left there, until only shreds remain and you are crying on the floor, knees to your chest.

When morning comes, the servants don’t say a word, they clean your mess while your handmaiden helps you dress for the day.

With a heavy heart you realized, during the night, that your best chance of survival is for the North to succumb or, at least, for the major Lords to die in order for you to seize power, as the Queen of a free North. The first option is, probably, the more likely to happen, because the remaining Houses would never accept a Queen, a traitor Queen and if a civil war were to break, the North would fall anyway and you are still in enemy territory, your chances of seizing power null.

If the North wins, you’ll still be a traitor, that you were forced to marry Aemond will weigh nothing in the scheme of things, not when your predicament can be used by other Houses to grab what belongs to you and your family.

The Gods are cruel, aren't they? They punished you two times for having followed your heart: the first time with an unhappy marriage, the second with becoming a stranger in your own Homeland or being exiled forever.

For the two days Aemond is away, you work until your body physically can’t take anymore and your handmaiden has to drag you to bed, where you fall in a dreamless sleep and wake up in tears.

You are angry at Aemond for what he did and you miss him, cursing your traitor heart when you are awake, because the pull you feel towards him is even stronger now that you know he is in battle and in danger. You should hope for his demise but tremble at the mere idea of having to go on and live your life without him. You feel no hate towards him, anger perhaps, so much that you feel like you’re drowning in it, but you know it will fade, eventually, leaving you defenseless against those feelings burning in the most hidden recesses of your heart.

The thundering of your thoughts breaks into pieces when you hear the commotion in the courtyard and the roar of the dragons: they are back.

Against your will your feet drag you outside, where you see the familiar sea of white haired Valyrians, until your eyes land on Aemond, who stands tall, shouting orders to the people around you, still in his armor. You have to move aside to make sure the people don’t crush you in their effort to… pack? You wonder, flabbergasted, turning around to follow the commotion. They are all packing the scant belongings left: what is going on? Have they lost? You ask yourself.

You jump out of your skin when a strong hand lands on your shoulder, on instinct you turn ready to punch, only to see Aemond’s face, specks of congealed blood on his face and hair.

“We need to go, ��brazȳrys, now” he says gently

“I am not going anywhere with you until you tell me what’s going on!” you answer, dislodging his hand

“I will explain, later”

“I am sick and tired of having to wait for any explanation from you! You’d better start talking, now!” you spat, stomping your foot

“You can either come with me, dignity intact, or I can haul you on my shoulder and on Vhagar. Your choice, ābrazȳrys. Either way we are flying away from here”.

You can see the anger and tiredness under his gentle façade, the haste he is trying to hide from you.

“Fear not, dōna ābrazȳrys, we’ve won. We are occupying another castle”.

For a second you can’t breathe, black spots dancing in your vision. It’s only thanks to Aemond’s hands on your shoulders that you don’t fall on your ass, his grasp firm on the skin there as he ushers you towards the enormous form of Vhagar.

“Please don’t make me fly on her again” all your fight gone the moment you face the humongous beast again

“It’s the safest way for you to travel”

“Please Aemond” you beg, trying to find purchase on his armor: why can’t he have some pity and do as you ask?

“I can’t risk anything happening to you - as gently as he can he cups your cheeks - I know the first time was scary, but nothing bad happened, right? We will fly slowly and as close to the terrain as possible. Please, we need to go”.

It’s the gentleness in his voice that makes your resolve crumble, the light in his eye amidst the chaos around you two. Why is your heart still singing for him? Why do you care about a man who makes decisions in your life, without consulting you?

You hang your head in defeat and murmur your answer; out of nowhere your handmaiden arrives, a thick cloak in her hands and fastens it around your body.

This time you climb Vhagar’s enormous body on your own, Aemond is right behind you, ready to catch you if you fall and to chain you to the beast under you.

“I wish I didn’t have to subject you to all of this”

“Then you shouldn’t have kidnapped me”.

The ride on Vhagar is saddled with a heavy silence.

You recognize where you all are, thus understanding how much terrain the Valyrians have conquered against your people and your blood freezes cold: you thought the North would have fared better, yet they've managed to steal so much from you all!

You can hear Aemond following you, the heavy thuds of each step, still clad in his armor as he is. Both his squire and your handmaid precede you to prepare your room, someone else's room, for the night.

The fire is lit and you can see some servants carrying buckets of warm water for Aemond to use and the squire ready to help with the armor, your handmaiden helps you with your cloak and shows you a screen you can use to hide while changing clothes. When you emerge you are again in the dressing gown, Aemond in his breeches and undershirt, ready to finish undressing to enjoy the bath.

"You should ask the servants to bring you some food"

"As you can imagine, I am not hungry" you answer curtly.

Aemond can feel the physical abyss carved between the two of you and his own lack of knowledge on how to cross it. You are so close he fancies he can smell you, yet so far away, you might as well be in Essos.

"As you wish, ābrazȳrys" he says with a curt nod of his head, before entering the bathing room.

That very night, the distress sounds coming from the huge settee awaken you. In the confusion that is your half awake brain, you don't understand initially what's going on, until you manage to light some candles and you can see Aemond's body trashing on the settee, his head turning from side to side violently, his mouth open to let out howls of pain and his harms moving as if he’s trying to shield himself. He sounds so pitiful you can’t help but grab the candle and rush to his side, your hands trying to stop his flailing arms, your voice gently trying to wake him, until he shoves you away and he sits up, abruptly.

Aemond doesn’t know where he is for a second, his head whips around until he sees you on the floor, your eyes trained on his face.

“Oh Aemond” escapes your lips.

He doesn’t immediately understand, then he realizes he is not feeling the eyepatch snug on his face and notices it on the floor. He snags it with haste and wears it, even though the damage has already been done.

“What is going on?”

“It is not of your concern”.

Slowly you lift yourself up, shoulders squared you march towards him to stop between his splayed legs. He didn’t just scream his anguish during his nightmare, you could hear disjointed words of regret and fear and pain.

“What happened?”.

He has to crane his neck to look into your beautiful face. You have such an air of power around yourself, you are queenly, godly in the way you are staring at him, he feels compelled to talk, but he can’t if he looks into your eyes. He lets his head hang, arms braced on his thighs, ready to commence his story.

“We didn’t have a choice, never really. We were destined to fail the moment we were born, my siblings and I. You see, as much as New Valyria wasn’t ready for a Queen, our father had forced everyone’s hand in pledging for her. He had us, the spares, in his mind Rhaenyra was supposed to inherit though. She didn’t have everyone’s support, not with the way she conducted herself and the talks around her Velaryon children being bastards. - he spats the word - Still, many Lords were ready to back her up, promises and honor, against Aegon’s claim and Daemon knew, he made his plans to take care of the competition”.

Aemond stands, his face curtained by his long hair, forcing you to step back or he’ll crash against your frame. On unsteady feet he walks towards the window and stares into the night, hands on the windowsill.

“We were told of his plan. You see, Daemon had been the head of the City Watch years and years ago, the men were still loyal to him and they were ready to act upon his command. We beat them to it. - you notice his hands curl on the sill, the knuckles turning white - There was no other choice, not when there was a plan and a date picked to annihilate all of us”.

You are rooted where you are standing, chilled to the bone by his confession. You knew what he did, who didn’t, but to hear it from his own voice, to hear the way he’s forcing himself to keep a steady tone, hits you differently. Then another realization churns your stomach

“We are just a decoy, right? A way to shift the Lords’ attention to what you and your brother did, to ensure their loyalty with our riches”.

You can see his shoulders sag, his head falling forwards against the glass

“Conquering the North had always been in my House’s plans. My father was too much of a spineless man to act upon it. Daemon might have been capable of convincing Rhaenyra to wage war - he turns around, paler than you have ever seen him - this was going to happen under a future Targaryen ruler”

“It did now, though”

“Yes. All the pieces fell into place the moment we slaughtered my half-sister and her family. There was no other choice”.

You have to walk backwards until your legs hit the bed and you fall there, sitting ungracefully like a ragdoll, your cold fingers grabbing the bedding uselessly.

“Who is Luke?” you shoot.

This is the night of revelation, as horrifying as they have been.

Aemond audibly takes a deep, pained breath and you don’t care; he’s telling you everything and you deserve the truth, all of it, after all he’s put you through.

“One of Rhaenyra’s Strong bastards, my nephew Lucerys Velaryon - unconsciously his hand goes to the scar running down his face - he’s the one who took my eye and was never punished for what he did. His mother claimed self defense, I was never going to hurt him or his brother, I just wanted them to stop”.

The defeat in his voice forces you to look at him. His lilac eye is shot open, his mouth a thin line. You want to urge him, but you are afraid he’ll stop.

“They ganged against me, him, Jace, Jacaerys Velaryon and Daemon’s daughters. Four against one because I had claimed Vhagar before Rhaena did, because she believed a dragon could be inherited. I had to grab that rock and threaten them, they didn’t like it when I told them what they were: bastards”.

You can hear the effort he’s making at keeping his tone neutral but the emotions brimming under the surface are unmistakable: the pain and the rage you can feel, threatening to break his composure at any second.

You are not looking at him, your eyes following the weaving of the rug up to where the candles lighten it, your mind weighting all he’s told you. Slowly you understand why he’s saying that he and the King had no choice, how the pieces had fallen into their places the moment the late King Viserys had generated spare heirs. You have never believed in predestination, in the fact that one’s life has already been decided by the Gods that, even knowing the future, a person has no way to change it. You still do believe all of that but can see the domino effect the late King had caused, which landed you and Aemond in this room.

“Do you truly believe there was no other way?”

“Our mutual existence was a threat to the Kingdom. Sooner or later factions would have appeared, Daemon hiring these men just snowballed what was to come”

“Your brother could have rejected the crown in favor of Rhaenyra”

“He was still the male heir and our grandsire would have never backed down, he had invested too much in Aegon becoming King. He was the threat, he had legitimate children also, whilst everyone knew Jace wasn’t a true Velaryon, his and his mother’s position were already compromised from the start. In a way, she and Daemon had no other choice”.

You understand, the same way you did when he talked murder against your other husband, the same way a cornered animal understands fighting for its life. You are both cogs in a machine bigger than yourselves, your actions inevitable and set in motion by someone else: your hands bloody, the shame yours to carry, the true culprit as innocent as a dove.

“This is why you have to believe me when I say marrying you was not instigated by political reasons. I am a kinslayer, I am the most accursed of men. Leaving you for the wolves would have been easier and I still couldn’t. I killed Luke with my own two hands and you were supposed to be nothing more than a bounty”.

You silently stand up and walk towards him until you can gently grab his chin to look into his lonely eye.

“I understand - you murmur gently - now I understand”.

That morning the servants find you two asleep on the bed, you on your side, back facing Aemond, and him on his back, one of his hands curled around a lock of your hair.

Aemond taglist: @fan-goddess

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen

26 notes · View notes