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makeyoumine69 · 1 year

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I Wanna Feel You in My Bones

◥ PAIRING: Sugar Daddy!Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader

◥ SUMMARY: Patrick decided to show you how to train more effectively, but he didn't tell you that it would involve sex.

◥ WARNINGS: NSFW │porn with feelings, oral (both receiving), clothes ripping kink, vaginal sex, creampie, fingering, nipple play, body worship, teasing, heavy Daddy kink, mild degradation kink, spanking, overstimulation, dirty talk, pet names, sensual baby Patrick himself.

◥ WORDCOUNT: 2.5k

◥ A/N: I kept this in my drafts for too long! Many thanks to the amazing anon who sent me this request, and my dear @thesirenrealm for the gif set she made for me!💞 Hope you like it! *hugs*

◥ SONG REC: Tame Impala - New Person, Same Old Mistakes🔥

◥ LINKS: [Sweet like a Cupcake Masterlist] [Main Masterlist]

Your heavy breathing bounced around Bateman's fashionable living room as you tried your best to finish the damn stomach crunches he asked you to do.

"No, no, Cupcake," Patrick scolded, standing near his audio system and watching you from above. "That doesn't count!"

Huffing, you glowered at him, small droplets of sweat running down your aching abs. "W-what? Why?!"”

“You are slacking off…a lot.” Smirking, he got closer and leaned down to touch your belly.

"Well," you stammered as his cold finger caressed your skin, painting invisible lines across it. "I'm not as physically fit as you."

"That's why you need to work harder," Patrick said, pressing his palm against your stomach and licking his lips briefly as his tantalizing gaze roamed shamelessly over your tense body. "'C'mon, baby. Move!"

Desperately, you let out an exhausted whine before you obeyed and did a few more crunches, feeling your muscles tighten like a string.

"Good girl," Bateman crooned, holding your bent legs to keep you in place. "Keep going, you're almost there."

“You’re not helping!” You muffled as you seemed to reach your limit.

"Really?" A small chuckle echoed in your ears. Shaking his head, Patrick knelt beside you and lifted your hips up to smack your juicy ass. "Next time I won't hold your legs. No one helps me when I work out, you know."

You wriggled in his grip, trying to slip out, but that only encouraged him to drag you closer. And then his powerful arms were already pulling your leggings off, tickling your bare skin a bit.

"Patrick..." you gave him an innocent look, pressing a finger to your half-open lips. "I'm too tired."

Sneering, Patrick exposed your butt, squeezing it with his both hands. “You don’t need to do anything, silly. Not now.”

You gasped as his large palms were still playing with your buttocks, sending shivers down your spine. “G-God…you're incorrigible, m-mhm…”

No matter how weary you were, this man was evoking something primal inside your gut, something that could force your blood to rush in your veins, melting your body like a candle.

Possessively, Bateman cupped your heated pussy, not surprising how wet you already were. “Did watching me exercising aroused you that much, my slutty girl?”

Without resistance, he pushed your panties aside and rubbed your swollen lower lips to taste your sweet flavor.

“Ah, Daddy…” You mewled, watching him suckling off his fingers and touching his hard groin.

Trembling, you could definitely see the outline of his huge dick thanks to the tight gray pants he was wearing. With a quiet growl, Patrick pulled on your leggings way too harshly for just removing them and then, you heard a distinctive sound of ripping fabric.

"W-what are you..." before you could say that, Bateman's muscular hands were already working on tearing your underwear apart, not even paying attention to your angry protests. "Stop! That was my favorite!"

"Leggins or panties?" He laughed in a mocking way, tossing hunks of fabric to the floor and lifting your bottom.

“Both!”

"What a shame," his devilish smile was brighter than the sun, even his slightly sweaty locks couldn't hide it. “But don’t worry, Daddy will get you new ones.”

"But-" an electric shock coursed through your body as his heated mouth touched the delicate skin of your inner thigh, forcing your words to stick like a lump in your throat. "Aa-ahh, Patrick..."

Shyly, you covered your face with the palm of your hand, feeling the growing tension as he approached your mound. Panting with excitement, Patrick whispered: "Damn, I love the way you get embarrassed," he purred, leaving tiny hickeys wherever he could. "My delicate...mmm-little Cupcake."

After saying that, he greedily moved your hips closer, raising them higher and resting your legs on his broad shoulders, and then he couldn't wait any longer to bury his face between your legs as he began to eat your sleek pussy.

Right away you arched your back from the sharp spasm in your womb, his wet tongue swirling around your blushing clit so perfectly, so masterfully. And of course Bateman knew how good he was making you feel when he heard your sweet, innocent moans that made his cock twitch from how fucking hard it was.

“Pull up your top and play around with your nipples, I wanna watch,” he didn’t ask you–he insisted. “You’re shaking already, how pathetic.”

Sobbing, you did what he wanted and now you were balancing yourself on the edge of pure bliss, rolling your taut peaks between your fingers while his experienced mouth was sucking out all of your sweet juices.

"A-aww," you almost screamed as Patrick gripped your ass and lifted your lower body even higher, not letting you move and looking at you from above while lapping at your dripping cunt. “Oh, G-God…” that was certainly a big mistake, to stare at him back, as your inner walls were about to clench into a spiral from the eye contact you made. “Pat-Patrick, please…Take m-me…”

"Take you? What do you mean?" Teasingly, he tugged on your sore clit with a squelch, his chin glistening in the daylight with your slickness.

What an asshole.

“Stop pretending!” you hissed as he kept doing nothing, but waiting for your answer. “You know exactly what I mean.”

“Maybe I do…but I want you to say that,” with a sassy smirk, Bateman made one flat lick across your sensitive folds. “Cupcake, if you want I can lean over…and you will whisper it into my ear.”

Rolling your eyes, you felt him moving along your body. Oh shit, was he really serious?

“So?” He climbed on top of you before he bit your lower lip, pressing you down with his massive muscles.

“Mmhm,” you shrugged and whimpered beneath his solid frame as he brushed his hips against yours, to make sure you knew how stony his dick was. “Fuck me…D-Daddy.”

“And how do you want me to do this?” Bateman whispered near your cheek, and then he playfully licked your earlobe, coaxing all of your insides to cramp almost painfully. “Tell me more, baby…”

“Fuck me… just the way you like it, Daddy.”

“Really?” he continued to rub himself against you, grinning sparkly from how your hands were nervously tracing against the floor. “You must be really desperate…”

You exhaled noisily, when Patrick came back to his previous position, resting on his knees in front of your opened wide legs. Smoothly, he put off his sweaty white T-shirt, letting you admire his perfect torso–you couldn't take your eyes off of the small drops of sweat that were running down his small trail of hair and damn, that vein under his navel.

And of course, Patrick couldn't miss your foggy gaze which was hungrily tracing all around his firm frame. Arrogantly, he drew close to your neck to leave a noticeable wet mark on it before he kissed your mouth really hard, pushing his strong tongue inside as far as he could. Closing your eyes, you nearly choked, frantically clawing at his broad back, feeling his strong muscles tense under your touch.

Eventually, Bateman broke away from your lips to tease your hard nipple a bit, as he couldn't leave his favorite tits without his attention. Licking and sucking on your tip, he was literally tormenting your strained mind when he suddenly grabbed both of your hands and pressed them against his beefy tiddies, sliding them down over his abdomen to his pubis.

Panting sharply, you almost froze in place, glancing at him from under your lashes, but he only smiled at you as he got closer to your face, caressing it and tracing his long finger across your lips to make you know what he wanted. Taking a deep breath, you slowly pulled down his gray pants, exposing his glistening tip, and then you gave it a few kitten licks, causing his palms clenched into fists.

“Babydoll…” he groaned, nearly audible as you took his full length inside your mouth. Gritting his teeth, Patrick tilted his head down to see your plump lips latched around his thick shaft. “So needy…so slutty, ah-fuck…”

Soon, his pounding became more and more persistent, you even had to lean on his hips to slow him down a bit. But then, Bateman pulled his dick out from your mouth as suddenly as he pushed it in, leaving behind a thin trail of your saliva.

“Gosh, Patrick…” you muffled, hungerly catching the air. “You’re insane.”

“Yes, (Y/N),” he mused husky, prodding his leaking cock against your wet little hole. “I am.”

A loud, uncontrolled moan escaped your lips before you realized it as he fucked you slowly but deeply, his solid hips meeting yours in perfect synchrony; his languid breathing was all that mattered to you now, even your own gasping was nothing compared to his, especially when he towered over you, demanding in a stern tone: “Let it out, Cupcake.” Gently, Patrick placed his arms under your shoulder blades, hugging you tightly to keep you closer and never stopping to thrust into your spasming pussy.

Shuddering with every push he made, you submitted to his will, again. “Please… k-kiss me…”

Domineeringly, Bateman clasped your chin to open your lips even wider as your wet tongues slipped against each other in a sensual dance of pure lust. God, you were so close, the way he drilled into your tight inner channel was almost brutal, yet so delightful, his ferocity and almost affectionate caresses making you sink into emotions you never knew you could feel.

“Pat…Patrick…” You cried out, as you couldn't take it any longer.

“I know, dear,” growling, Patrick looked into your hazy eyes before pushing himself as deep as he could, his heavy balls hitting your ass made you almost squirm. “Mm-mhh…wrap your legs around my back…I need to feel you closer.”

His sudden words took your breath away because he sounded so sentimental and desperate - he was already fucking you so hard and it was still not enough. There was no more thinking as you hooked your hips around his loin, crossed them and then let yourself go. The next second you were cupping his firm ass and Bateman couldn't resist sneering in ecstasy, even with his messy hair he looked so perfect.

Everything about him seemed to be perfect, the way he treated your body was not an exception. Seizing the moment, when your legs only started to shake, Bateman pulled out of you abruptly and went down on you again, swiping your clit with his hot tongue.

“Aa-ahh, Daddy…Aa-www…” Your voice waved as you climaxed so intensively, you had to grab on the mat beneath your quivering body.

“Mmm…” Patrick moaned against your cunt, tightly holding your legs to prevent them from closing, his fierce mouth never stopped devouring your tender flesh.

“A-awww, f-fuck…ah!” Still trembling, you yelped with how his thin curling fingers were suddenly stimulating your G-spot, prolonging your orgasm and forcing you to gush like a fucking whore.

"Well, well, well... look who just cummed so hard," Bateman rejoined, stuffing his fingers into you to the knuckles, your sleek flavor almost floating on his Rolex, which he always wore, but he didn't care. "Jesus, are you going to flood my apartment?"

His mocking words only urged your inner muscles to clench tighter around his fingers, you thought you were going to faint as you felt yourself so light-headed and completely devastated. But yet, you managed to lean on your elbows to see him licking off his fingers and lazily stroking his soaked cock.

“What about you, Daddy?”

Patrick brushed his sweaty hair away, unable to stop a broad smile from appearing on his tense face as his wild nature craved a sweet release – it yearned for you. "Oh, you're so lovely, Cupcake," he beckoned with his finger, and you followed him as if hypnotized. "Do you want to take care of me, honey? Make Daddy feel so good?"

You nodded, barely breathing, but the tantalizing sight of his twitching cock gave you no chance as you let the longing heat in your body take over, forgetting everything, there was only you and him and your ravenous need to meld together.

Without saying a word, you allowed him to sit you on his firm knees and ring your legs around his back, and then you shrugged when he bottomed out, because you were already so worked up that it even hurt.

"Mmm, Patrick..." you huffed into his ear, keeping up the pace and riding him more deeply. "You're so b-big...Gosh...Ahhh, please...fill me with your seed!"

"Ahh, you want my cum?" He squeezed your waist, controlling your movements and helping you a little as he fucked you from below.

"A-aawhh...yes!" you bounced on his beefy shaft, desperately hugging his strong shoulders as you let him wreck you like a toy. "I want it all...till the last d-drop...p-please."

With a guttural sound, Bateman grabbed your ass, rammed deep but sloppily into you, and the next moment you felt his hot liquid pumping you from inside, painting the walls of your womb white; his fingers digging almost painfully into your soft skin as his orgasm hit him hard.

A little while later, you were both still writhing in pleasure, his strong arms wrapped around you like ropes, as if he was afraid you would disappear like a mirage. Panting, you looked down at him, pulling away his brown tresses to see his peaceful face, now so flushed from the heat. Mesmerized, you didn't even realize that you were literally admiring his perfect features, tracing a finger along his cheekbone while his eyes were tightly shut. But when he suddenly opened them, your blurry gazes met and you felt as if you had been caught doing something wrong. But was it really that wrong or was it just in your head?

"Cupcake..." Bateman let out a sharp breath before leaning in to kiss you on the lips, wiping away all thoughts, leaving nothing but the illusive sensation that this man belonged to you, completely and irrevocably.

Afterwards, Patrick pressed his forehead against yours and you were so afraid of ruining the moment that you stayed still in his embrace, listening to his rapid heartbeat.

Unfortunately, that did not last long as he got up and left you on the mat while he removed his pants completely. Huffing, you watched him stroll around his living room completely naked, and holy hell... he was still so hard. You gasped when you heard him talking with his casual, arrogant intonation:

"When you remember how to walk, join me in the shower," he said as he headed toward the bathroom, his solid hips swinging with each step. "But don't make me wait too long."

The last vestiges of his vulnerability faded with him as the sound of the door closing echoed in your ears. Still, it helped you wake up from your naive reflection on his candor.

You wished you could just stop thinking, you wished you were free, you wished you never met him.

#american psycho #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x female reader #patrick bateman x you #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x you #slasher smut #patrick bateman smut #patrick bateman headcanon #christian bale smut #christian bale x reader #patrick bateman reader

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lvrcpid · 1 year

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DEPENDABLE - adventures with tuk!..gone wrong

cw // blood?? tuk crying cause she hurt her sister :(

the sun rose upon the horizon bringing in a new day. ney’ite rolled over on side to find her younger sister, tuk , wide eyed and looking at her sister with wonder in her eyes. today was the day ney’ite promised to take tuk on another adventure, this time, further into the forest. “tuk..go back to sleep, i told you later hm?” ney’ite pushed herself up and laid her little sister back down, getting up and grabbing her bow and arrow, it was her turn to hunt AGAIN. ney’ite rolled her eyes before walking out into the bright sunlight, her yellow orbs glistening in the light. with a sigh ney’ite made her way down to the sea, successfully avoiding the sharp branches of the trees and bushes.

“ite think fast!” neteyam threw an orange at his sister, frowning and letting out a quick “awh man!” when she caught it. “teyam, you do this every morning. got anymore tricks up your sleeve?” she flashed a grin before finishing up her breakfast, tuk waiting behind her like an excited puppy. “going somewhere?” a deep voice called from beside her. it was dad. “oh hey dad, i’m taking tuk out to teach her how to shoot a bow.” jake raised an eyebrow before shaking his head “absolutely not” ney’ite felt a pang of dissatisfaction. he always said no when it came to tuk. “daddy pleaseeeeeeee i promise i’ll be good right ite!?” tuk turned around to face her sister who gave a quick nod. “we will be fine. swear to eywa” ney’ite smiled at her father. with a sigh jake shooed them off “be safe. i’ll be there to come and get you all if you’re not back by eclipse.” tuk grabbed her sisters hand and pulled her outside, beginning their journey.

“ney’! do you think i’m gonna hit a fish my first try?” tuk said, holding her sisters hand tightly. “i’m not sure tuk, if you do i’ll do something special for you” ney’ite smiled and pointed to a pond. “there’s fish there, wanna go try ?” tuk eagerly took the bow and arrow from her sister and got into the position she was taught. tuk had just pulled the bow back when she heard a twig snap. just then tuk stood up straight and let go of the bow by accident, the bow bouncing from the tree and landing in another target, ney’ites shoulder. “fuck!” ney’ite let out, stumbling away from tuk , gripping onto her bleeding shoulder, it was lodged in there and hurt like hell. “ite im sorry!!” tuk yelled, the 8 year old immediately busting into tears. ney’ite felt herself getting dizzy but quickly stumbled over to her sister . “hey h-hey it’s okay it was an accident okay? i’m not mad.” she comforted the little girl before grabbing the bows and her arrow and most importantly, tuks hand.

the pair lugged back to their home before lo’ak let out an “oh shit! i’ll go get mom and dad!” he ran past the pair while ney’ite turned to her little sister “tuk turn around” she turned the little girl around before pulling the bow out, slowly and agonizingly. ney’ite let out a blood curdling scream before tossing the bow on the ground. tuks crying only got louder as their parents burst into their home. neytiri shouting for kiri as jake quickly rushed over to his eldest while lo’ak grabbed tuk, attempting to comfort her. “hey dad..” ney’ite let out a tired laugh “at least it wasn’t tuk right?” she said before passing out.

ney’ite shot up in a cold sweat and quickly hissed before looking at her shoulder. kiri must’ve patched her up. bless her heart. “you’re awake!” tuk jumped on her sister and hugged her. “i’m sooooo so soooo sorry” tuk nuzzled her sister before smiling up at her “oh tuk it’s okay, i’m not mad” ney’ite smiled before seeing her mom walk over to her. “hi ma” “ney’ite..how are you feeling?” she got down to her level and felt her forehead “im okay ma, just glad to be alive-“ “yeah cause if you would’ve died i would’ve brought you back to kill you again!” kiri came into view with a smile on her face “ahh im so scared” the family let out a big laugh and thanked eywa that ney’ite was safe and well.

#avatar #avatar x reader #tuk avatar #avatar x older sister!reader #thisissocute #tuk best little sister ever #jake sully x reader #neytiri x reader #neteyam x reader #loak x reader #kiri x reader #awotw

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lokisgoodgirl · 2 years

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Asgardianese : Clandestine F*cks [Avenger!Loki x Fem.Reader] 18+

Part of the Clandestine F*cks Collection A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: (23) Wanda has good intentions, Megan not so much. Can copious amounts of Lokigasms shake away the blues? Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Language. Smut. Oral (F) PV. Mild violence. Mild Angst. Secret relationship(ish) (w/c 3.7k)

Loki had screwed your fears away. He did it last night, twice more after the turret room at the Plaza. You had arrived at the door of his rooms after speaking to Wilson and Lang in the garage. Begging for their cooperation in the face of the insidiously spreading truth of your relationship. Begging for their silence. The evening gown had pooled around your ankles by the god of mischief’s bed, leaving it crumpled on the floor before slipping wordlessly between the cool sheets. His needful moans of passionate desire, his delicate promises of forever in your ear against the darkness had blessedly silenced your troubled minds. For a time. He made love to you once more at the break of dawn, spooning into you gently with melting kisses and soft murmurs at your back as you woke. And now, he was doing it again.

“Love…” he murmured quietly against your shoulder, “Is there anything I can do?” Loki sucked soft kisses down your arm, smiling as you twisted onto your back and shuffled beneath him. “Don’t get sent back to Asgard, that would be nice.” You smiled weakly as he shook his head with a mirthless chuckle. There was nothing he could say to that. And you both knew it. He kept his keen eyes on yours as his face lowered to your stomach, kissing a trail down the centre with moist lips. You moaned softly, cum from your earlier lovemaking still sticky between your thighs. Like a gymnast he manoeuvred across your body, his gaze glinting as he tried to rouse a feeling stronger than sadness from your heart. With every person who knew your secret, the stakes grew higher. But Loki would be damned if his lover’s mind was occupied with something other than his devotion in his own bed. His long fingers wound around your ankles, pushing them backwards, sliding the soles of your feet towards your ass. The sound of soft classical music floated on the morning stillness as his mouth latched to your pussy, caressing the centre like a luxuriously warm bath. You sighed against the pillow, closing your eyes as pure pleasure overtook your anxiety, every swipe of his talented muscle edging it further away. Loki lapped at a leisurely pace, every moan of his name from your lips making you feel closer to a dream than a state of lucidity. His hands massaged your thighs, controlling your thrusts as you rocked against him, feeling his chin burrow between your ass-cheeks as he dove deeper. It wasn’t lust blossoming in every swirl of his godly tongue between your soaking folds, it was love. Muffled groans sounded against your wet skin as he stopped to kiss your inner thighs, his nose burying in the corners of your pelvis as he inhaled the mix of sex and sweat gathered there.

“You are perfection” he whispered, before fastening his lips around your delicate clit. His tongue lapped purposefully over the nub, coating every centimetre in devotion as his grip tightened on your thighs, pulling you closer. The passion in every wide lick was tangible, your rising pants chiming with the soft sighs he made against your pussy with every bob of his head. You ran your hands down his thick forearms, pulling at his elbows with a whimper. Loki groaned knowingly, those beautiful eyes opening to meet yours. Like a static shock you suddenly saw what your life would be without him. A cold bed. A cold heart. Forever grieving the path you could have walked, the one with him by your side. His brow furrowed, sucking gently as he sent you over the edge of a devastatingly slow orgasm. Climax crested through every nerve in your core, blossoming glacially through your body like blood in water. You arched your back, crying his name as tears pricked your eyes. It was too much. And yet, it would never be enough. -- You slipped from Loki’s rooms under the guise of catching up on work. Space to think was what you needed. And if there was one thing Loki wasn’t conducive to, it was providing space to think.

Saturday morning 7am meetings had been cancelled indefinitely after a strike by the team, reclaiming their weekend lie-ins. The Tower would be quiet, and you intended to make the most of it. Morning sun shone brightly through the common room windows as you made your way to your favourite sofa and settling with your book. It had been a while since your free time had been taken up by anything other than Loki. This was just what you needed, time to breathe. An hour passed. Maybe two. The clang of the elevator broke you from your concentration, glancing towards the metal doors. They opened, revealing Natasha and...Megan. You rolled your eyes, looking back to your book. You watched them out the corner of your eye as the kettle boiled, trying to block out the whine of Megan’s voice as she wittered on about some inane TV show. The scrape of chairs sounded as they sat at the table, strong coffee making the air smell faintly like cigarettes. “So it’s true? Huh, I didn’t think much of it honestly, I try to stay away from gossip.” Natasha’s curt tone sparked your interest, your ears pricking from across the room. “I mean...he doesn’t like anyone to know about us. He’s a very private person. As you know, I’m sure. But yes...he’s ammmazing, if you know what I mean.” Megan drawled the words, her voice like nails on a chalkboard as her cackle bounced around the walls. “Huh.” Nat quipped. You didn’t turn, but you could sense the scepticism etched across her face. “Yeah he’s obsessed with me. It’s super-hot. He wanted to fuck me right before his evaluation last month...right in Tony’s office. Can you believe that?”

Nat hummed, a pause before the light thud of her coffee mug setting back on the table broke the suspense. “Do you know, I actually can.” she chuckled, making your stomach flip. There was no way this bitch is actually telling people she’s fucking Loki. There’s no way, you thought.Rage was building in your belly, the final nail in the coffin of your worst fears threatening to spurt from your mouth with every passing word. “And I’ll let you into a little secret…” Megan said, loudly. “When he’s super turned on, like...about to shoot his load, he starts talking Asgardianese…” You frowned, turning your head a fraction towards the table. Megan caught your eye. She’d been waiting for a sign of your interest, sealing it with an exaggerated wink. You whipped back round quickly, eyes focused on your book as your breathing became rapid, the words blurry. The elevator doors pinged, opening to reveal Wanda in her dressing gown. “Happy weekend, bitches…” she sang happily, her bare feet padding towards the kitchen. She poured a glass of water, spying you curled on the sofa. Wanda frowned, making her way over as you shot her a weak smile. “Morning boo, you OK?” she said quietly, concern etched across her face. Your brow creased, making the smallest tilt of your head that only a best friend would register. She perched on the edge of the sofa, grinning widely and blinking several times as her performance began. “So...tell me, what are we talking about?” Nat’s eyebrows rose, her coffee cup hovering beside her mouth. “Megs was just telling me about how her secret lover speaks ‘Asgardianese’ when he cums…” she goaded, bringing the mug to her lips with a smirk. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” Wanda snorted, squeezing your hand. I got this, it said. “You wouldn’t say that if you heard Lokes in action…” Megan cooed, immediately bringing her palm to her mouth in mock-surprise. “Oops, I’ve said too much. Silly me. Must be all the orgasms messing with my brain.” She giggled. The sound made you want to vomit. You felt Wanda fizz with anger beside you. You had told her everything that Megan had done. With every word that passed – her offers of murder had increased both in frequency and sincerity. Wanda had been giving out fucks like they were candy and now...she’d run out of fucks to give.

You prodded her thigh behind the cover of the armrest. Hard. Don’t, it said. Please. “You liar.” she spat venomously, standing abruptly and striding over to the table. Natasha spat out her coffee, speckles hitting Megan in the face as the colour drained from her overly-contoured cheeks. Wanda’s hand reached out, grabbing the chest of Megan’s cheap blouse in a tight fist and drawing her to nose level. “You clown-faced, weasel, bitch. Where do you get off lying about sleeping with someone huh? Someone who can’t stand you, no less.” she hissed, as Nat’s eyes widened. “You’re pathetic” Wanda sneered, “throwing yourself at him at every chance you get.”

She released Megan roughly back down into the chair with a careless thud, enjoying the look of broken pride on the woman’s face as she clamoured to re-gain control. “I dunno what you’re talking about.” she huffed, smoothing her hair. “And how dare you question me about something so personal.” Wanda laughed mirthlessly, her eyes flashing. “Uhhhh because you’re a toxic shit-stain of a human? Because you make people uncomfortable? Because you crossed every boundary Loki put up that screamed 'I'm not fucking interested'?” She turned to Natasha, folding her arms. “This one came on to Loki literally right before his six-month evaluation, got knocked back and then tried to suck his fingers...I mean…” Wanda turned back to Megan, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “Who the fuck does that? Really.” Natasha observed Megan stoically, assessing her features with intrigue as she monitored her reaction. The accused was flushed, smoothing her skirt repeatedly as she floundered under the unexpected interrogation. “You seem awfully sure that I’m not having sex with him. What makes you so certain? Because you’re wrong so...like, I deserve to know.” Wanda snorted again. “You don’t deserve shit. You certainly don’t deserve the fact you don’t have brain damage from Laufeyson smacking you into a wall by now.” Her lips curled. “Or maybe he did. It would explain this conversation.” You laughed in spite of yourself. Megan rolled her eyes as the elevator doors opened again. “As I have petitioned many, many times Lang, strawberry is a far superior sensory experience to that of the much bally-hoo’d chocolate. The tang of the strawb in contrast with the sweetness of the pastry. It truly puts the ‘tart’ in pop-tart, my friend.” Your heart stopped as a beaming Thor pulled the wrist of an incredibly sleepy looking Scott across to the counters, punching in the code to his snack cupboard. “Believe me. By all the gods, it is indeed a tasty treat.” “I’ve had pop-tarts man. Jeesh...” Lang groaned, rubbing his eyes as the glare of the sun through glass stung his sensitive retinas. Thor’s laugh boomed, making you flinch. “Ah, but not the hallowed straw berries variety it seems. Truly the superior...superior…” he trailed off, suddenly realising they were not alone. “Good morn, ladies…” Thor grumbled, suddenly self-conscious as the women’s stares burned into him. “Just grab the frickin pop-tarts and let’s go man.” Scott tugged the god’s sleeve, sensing the peril. “No, it’s fine. I want them to know.” Megan postured, straightening haughtily in her chair. “I have no issue with people hearing my truth before haters like her try and dull my shine.” Wanda raised her hands in mock-defeat, lowering her sword for Megan to impale herself. She cleared her throat.

“Thor...Scott...Loki Laufeyson and I are in a relationship. Well, a secret relationship. He’ll get mad if he knows I’ve spilled. So it’s just between us, but...yeah. I feel like in this circle of trust, y’all should know. Since someone made things super uncomfortable by calling me a liar.” She stared daggers at Wanda. Thor and Scott’s eyes widened in unison, each casting a glance towards the other before their expressions morphed to forced neutrality. The bulky god leant haphazardly against the counter-top, accidentally crushing the box of strawberry pop-tarts. His face reddened exponentially as he fumbled against the crumbs.

Scott had put his hands on his hips, making inexplicable lazy circles as he looked to the ceiling. “Wow that’s really somethin’...wow, that’s brand new information I am shook.” You felt a stab of guilt, Scott's brain clearly going a million miles an hour from last night’s revelations and how they slotted into this horror show unfolding.

You realised with alarm that while Thor and Wanda knew that the other knew about you and Loki, Scott had no idea. And they had no idea about him. That aspect of your situation had escaped you at midnight in the garage of the Tower while you pleaded with Lang and Wilson to keep your secret. Cautiously, you raised your hand. “Um...I just wanna say maybe we should leave this conversation for now, clearly Megan is working through some stuff.” You needed to get everyone out of here. Immediately. Megan huffed. “Who asked you, Y/N? As if you have anything to add to this or any conversation. What do you even do on the A-Team, anyway?” Wanda’s hand shot out, pinning Megan against the chair. “You say one more lying word about Loki's cock, or about my friend...and I will make it look like an accident” she hissed quietly, her eyes flashing red. “How else would I know about the A-Asagardianese when he c-cums” Megan choked, her face turning an alarming shade of purple beneath Wanda’s crushing hold. “It’s Norwegian, you stupid fuck” Wanda shouted. Megan’s bloodshot eyes widened, words forming on her lips in a low whisper. “Ohmygod...it’s you.” she stammered to Wanda between laboured breaths. In a flash, Thor wrestled her away; shaking his head as he turned her to face him. “She’s not worth it, Lady Maximoff...leave her be, we know the truth that’s what truly matters.” Megan stood, "you'll regret this..." she hissed to Wanda, before running into the open elevator doors and smashing the buttons until they closed, her eyes ablaze with spiteful anger. There was a collective sigh of relief at her departure before Natasha cleared her throat. “So what is the truth, exactly? Someone's screwing Laufeyson, that much is obvious. Someone who shouldn't be, I'd wager.” There was silence. The four of you frozen in your last positions as though she was a T-Rex, that you were rendered invisible by remaining still. “Do I need to raise this little incident with Steve?” Nat raised an eyebrow, running her analytical eyes over each of you in turn.

A red-faced Thor looked at a seething Wanda, her shoulders still clutched in his grip. Scott's eyes widened, searching the kitchen like he had landed in an alternate reality. The gazes switched awkwardly before somehow, they all landed on you at once. Including Natasha’s. “Oh…” she hummed thoughtfully. “Well that fits.” --- Your footsteps echoed against the tiles as you paced towards the gym. The only place where there would be no-one on a Saturday. Well, no one but the one person you wanted to see. You swung every cubicle open one after the other, satisfied there were no prying ears. As if it fucking matters anymore, you thought. You sat on the bench of the changing rooms, alternating between wanting to scream and wanting to cry. He would be here at any moment, and you didn’t know what to say. The door swung open. Loki wandered inside, rubbing a damp towel over his face before he saw you, his brow furrowing. “Darling?” he said, cautiously. “What’s happened?” You burst into tears. Within seconds, you were wrapped in his strong arms; sobbing into the fabric of his gym shirt. “Natasha knows...there was a fight and Wanda...and she guessed. Megan was saying these things and it just...and your brother...I tried, I just…” Loki stroked your hair, humming gently into your ear. He let you get it out, before pushing you softly away. “Are you finished, love?” he murmured. You nodded, wiping tears and snot as your breaths evened. He kissed you deeply, his tongue massaging against yours like an anaesthetic. You could taste the tears which had gathered on your lips, winding your hands in his sweat-dampened curls. He pulled away, cupping your cheek. His piercing gaze was full of determination, a burning promise. “Like you said, there is nothing we can do. She knows of the need to keep it to herself in light of…the situation?” You nodded. He sucked his lower lip between his teeth, releasing it with a low hum. “Well then, it sounds like you handled it admirably. We are in the hands of the gods, it seems.” He smiled softly, kissing you again. “I want you, Loki” you whispered against his cheek, letting your hand run down his torso to the waistband of his sweatpants. He chuckled. “Darling...I really don’t think you’re-” “I mean it.” you said quickly, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “Please, I just need to feel you...I, can’t explain it. I just...please?” Loki sighed, observing his wilful mortal with amusement. “You know I can never resist when you beg, love” he said, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth despite himself. “But I must remove the thrill of the act, I am afraid, given the circumstances.” His hands glowed, an aura of seidr melting into the air as he sealed the room from intrusion, rendering you invisible. Inaudible. “Even if Rogers himself interrupts us, he shall be none the wiser” he smirked, his smile faltering as he ran his eyes over your face. “Tell me what you need, darling.”

You pulled your t-shirt over your head, casting it to the floor. The tight leggings you wore peeled from your limbs, underwear abandoned. He did the same, ridding himself of those sinful grey sweatpants. “Tell me.” he murmured, gently taking your hand in his. He pulled you flush against his bare chest, letting your cheek rest against the firm expanse of pec muscle as you thought about your answer. “To know you love me. And for you to tell me...show me, that everything is going to be alright. I know you can’t promise but I-” Loki kissed you abruptly, his mission accepted. He guided you gently into the communal shower, timing your thud against the white tiles with a press of the nearest control. Blessedly hot water spurted from above, showering your naked bodies as Loki’s searching mouth travelled down your neck. Your back arched against the wall, his long torso pressing against yours; small rivers of water beginning to form in the valley of your naked cleavage flush against his skin. “You are my purpose, now” he murmured in your ear above the sound of the shower, his hands lowering to effortlessly lift you. You wrapped your legs around his hips as the steaming tile smacked against your back, allowing yourself to forget. “I never thought I would love, not like this.” The words melted into the wet skin underneath your ear, his adoring cock entering with a soft push of his hips. You moaned gently, pulling the arms wrapped around his shoulders tighter. “There is no ‘leader’, no ‘council’, no ‘authority’ in this universe that can keep me from you…” he snarled, bottoming out, one of his palms spreading against the wall. “There is no king I will not slay to stay by your side.” “Loki…” you gasped, as his manhood pulsed firmly inside you. Short strong thrusts slid you up the tiles with every slap of his hips, his tongue slipping inside your mouth. Wet strands of his hair trailed your neck as your fingertips grasped against his soaking skin, savouring every perfect moment as he fucked you softly against the wall. He moaned your name repeatedly, wistfully. The sound made your heart weak as you closed your eyes, letting the water wash away your fear. “You think the part of me that would smite whole worlds for what I am owed died the day that they brought me here, darling?” he whispered darkly. The firm roll of his cock made you clench around him, the malice in his voice making your stomach churn as the coil tightened. “I may be an Avenger, but I am still a god.” He threw his head back with a growl, the stream of water falling on his face as he grit his teeth. A thundering groan rolled from his throat as he braced himself against the wall, stirring his enormous length in the depths of your hot cunt. “If they try to take me from you…” he continued, the words tinged with venom, “I will unleash chaos that they have never known.” He lowered his jaw, eyes smouldering with determined lust. “I will burn cities to the ground, love. I will make them feel my rage. Cast them to the depths of unimaginable insanity before you are taken from me. Before my life is taken from me. My love…” he muttered. Loki’s breaths grew short under the weight of his promise, the tightness of your walls snug around his desire.

You whimpered, clutching the sodden hair soaked to his shoulders. The pleasure was indescribable, every hit of his pelvis against your core edging you over the brink. The slow but devastatingly heavy thrusts pushing you towards climax like a penny levels machine at the arcade. You tried to speak, but no words were forthcoming. Not even his name. “I know, darling...I know” he cooed, as you arched against the wall; senses overloaded. You had wanted to forget. And he had delivered. You looked at him with desperate eyes, wet hair plastered around your furrowed brow as you came loudly over his godly cock. It felt so right. So part of you. “Yes, kitten...that’s it, I’ll look after you.” he murmured, his narrowed eyes studying your features screwed up in ecstasy. “My good girl, coming for me so well, aren't you?” Your head fell back against the tiles, the ebbs of your moans falling away as he kissed down your neck. Droplets of water rolled down your breasts as he lifted your knees higher around his waist. “Will you let your lover sate himself now, darling?” he purred coyly, enjoying the cock-drunk smile that flickered across your lips. You hummed approval, tightening your thighs against his ribs. “Gods, I love you” he murmured, as he withdrew from your channel, teasing lightly at the sticky entrance before filling you once more. You gasped, opening your eyes. There was something about Loki when he was wet that was exceptionally otherworldly. The jet black of his soaked hair plastered to the alabaster skin, the blue-green of his irises so bright against dark lashes, droplets clinging to the fan. Small beads of water ran seductively down his cheekbones, flirting with his jawline before falling from the edge to the pools below. His thrusts were longer now that he chased his own release. Towards his own forgetting. The solid length of manhood took advantage of every inch of your pussy, squeezing out your tight hole and back inside with every flick of his hips. You groaned against the wall, the warm pressure of his body heaven against the cold tiles. Without warning he spent himself inside you, the guttural moan from deep in his chest accompanying the final few thrusts as he collapsed against your neck. For a few moments, the two of you clung together; buried in the primal simplicity. The warm water from the shower head fell on your shoulders as he moved you beneath it, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs as he kissed you desperately. “I meant every word.” he growled darkly against your lips, the faucet stream pattering relentlessly against your skin, pooling in puddles beneath his feet. “I know” you said, feeling something new blossoming in your belly. Stronger than the fear of discovery. Stronger than the gnawing dread of losing Loki. Stronger than the hatred of Megan. Something stronger than even the orgasms your lover so diligently bestowed. Hope. -- Tags @lokischambermaid @lady-rose-moon @mochie85 @xorpsbane @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @michelleleewise @fictive-sl0th @tbhiddlestan83 @peacefulpianist @peachyjinx @123forgottherest @loopsisloops @vbecker10 @wheredafandomat @thedistractedagglomeration @peaches1958 @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @thesinsoflust @muddyorbs @holymultiplefandomsbatman @joyful-enchantress @mcufan72 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @mrsbarnes32557038 @maple-seed @five-miles-over @handsaroundmyneck @yelkmelk @trickster-maiden @mistress-ofmagic @ladymischief11 @marygoddessofmischief @goblingirlsarah @mischief2sarawr @sititran

#loki x reader #loki x yn #loki x you #loki smut #lokismut #loki laufeyson #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki x female reader #loki x reader smut #loki x yn smut #loki x you smut #loki x female reader smut #loki oneshot #loki series #loki imagine

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aalyssah · 1 year

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Nightmare

Pairing: Solo Sikoa x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff!

Word Count: 764

A/N: @reignssupremacyy I hope I met your expectations! Hope You Enjoy!

You ran through the woods, bare foot, tears streaming down your face, as you yelled for hell. "Help! Anyone, Please!" You saw light from a house down through the trees. You were so close. So close to freedom, until you were snatched by a strong grip. "You thought you could escape?" The man who was once your loving father teased you.

“After everything I've done for you, you think you can run away?" The anger in his voice scared you even more. He dropped you on the cold floor, pulling an axe from the ground. "You're nothing. You're useless to me, that's why you should've died instead of your Mom!" He raised the axe to kill you and just then, you woke up.

Breathing heavy and tears in your eyes were evident as you just woke up from that nightmare. Solo sat up, turning on his lamp, looking scared for you. "Hey, what's wrong?" You shook your head, not wanting to talk about it. Solo tried touching you, but you flinched away, smacking his hand.

His jaw tense as you fought him. All he wanted to do was help you, but you were being stubborn. "What's wrong? What happened?" You kept shaking your head ignoring his questions, making him mad. You never told him about your father, especially after your Mom died.

The way he treated you was terrible. He always blamed you for your mothers death because she died while giving birth to you.

Usually Solo wouldn't have such a short temper, but it was currently, 3:47 AM in the morning and he has to go to the gym in 2 hours and he has a match tonight and you woke him up without telling him the reason.

He huffed out, rubbing his forehead. "Look, there's obviously something wrong with you. You wake up from breathing heavily, crying, and sweating and you wonder why I'm concerned?" You just sat there looking at him, with a blank expression.

That pissed him off even more. "Just tell me!" You flinched at his yelling. "I-I said don't w-worry about i-it!" Your voice cracked at almost every word as you told him. "No, tell me what's wrong." He was really pushing this 'issue'. You didn't understand why he wanted to talk about it, even after you told him 'No'.

"Your being, so useless right now. If you don't wanna tell me, then just sit here and cry like a bitch." With that being said, he turned the lamp off and pulled the blanket back over him. You sat in the same spot, frozen in hurt. You bite your lip, hard.

You were biting it so hard that if you bite any harder, blood would draw from it. You couldn’t hold back the sobs that came out your mouth as you thought back to what he said. ‘Your useless!’ and ‘Cry like a bitch.’ The tears fell as your mouth opened, letting out sobs.

You tried to cover your mouth, but it didn’t work. You wiped your eyes furiously, trying to stop the tears and to shut up, so Solo won’t yell at you again, but it didn’t work. All you could think about was your father and it killed you. Solo on the other hand, laid in bed with his back turned, guilt filling his body as he hears you cry.

He didn’t mean to make you cry, he was just frustrated. He sat up and turned the lamp on, looking at you. He took in your red eyes, and the snot coming out your nose. He sighed and walked to the bathroom getting tissue, before wiping your nose. Your breathing picked up as he touched your body, slightly, which made him feel even worse.

“Baby, I’m sorry, please.” You shook, sniffing as you wiped your eyes once more. “I-it’s done. It was m-my fault.” You did a little chuckling, brushing it off, but Solo wasn’t gonna end it this soon. “No, it’s my fault. I yelled at you instead of being patient, knowing something happened.” He held your hands in his, his thumb finger rubbing across your knuckles.

“I’m sorry, for being so rude and I understand if you don’t wanna talk about it, just please forgive me.” You forgave him the moment he apologized. You pushed your head in his chest, surprising him. His arms wrapped around your frame, holding you gently against his chest.

His hands scratched your scalp helping you go to sleep. “It’s alright, go back to sleep. I’ll be here when you have another nightmare.”

#solo sikoa #solo sikoa imagine #solo sikoa fic #solo sikoa smut #solo sikoa x reader #wwe fluff #wwe smut

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ahqkas · 8 months

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001. THE MAIDEN VOYAGE OF RMS TITANIC

❛ i can't help but feel somewhat like my body marred my soul. handmade beauty sealed up by two man-made walls ❜

PAIRING! simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS! Onboard the RMS Titanic, social boundaries blur as a high-class woman's gaze meets that of a man from the lower echelons. In an instant, their eyes lock, kindling an unexpected fascination that lingers until their next encounter

WORD COUNT! 2.6k

WARNINGS! nothing major, the plot is building !! mean mother and bad relationship w her, brief mention of death

NOTES! ahhh so excited for this series even though idk if someone's interested enough to read the whole thing ,, enjoy the journey and thank u for sticking around if u do !!

SERIES M.LIST! NEXT PART!

The sky is nothing but a canvas of light, letting the artist use their talent and imagination to create something unique for a human's eye to catch and cling onto, like a child to its mother. The sight was something natural, yet it still warmed hearts of people around. Even though the eye is plain and the beauty of the nature is too brilliant to be seen by it, it still manages to capture a lot of attention and curious gazes of those who show enough interest and let themselves be pulled in. Just like the beauty of the glorious ship, Titanic.

The world is simple, but the beauty of it is complex and difficult to crack.

The giant of a boat robbed many of their breaths away and caged them with her unforgettable appearance like a simple flower in the meadows. She was constructed of thousands and hundreds with the deepest care to make her look as appealing as she was pictured to be, to steal away hearts with all of her glory. The luxurious ship was meant to be an eye catcher, so that's what they made her to be. Many men even died in the process of her building, but their sacrifice was worthy the heart shaped stares she was bringing upon herself. They put their tears, their blood, and their sweat into perfection and now she was swaying on the gentle waves in the deck of Southampton, England, waiting to outshine the stars themselves. The unsinkable ship, as they said. The ship of dreams.

The distant singing of seagulls wavered through the air along with the chorus of chaotic goodbyes of people who already boarded the ship to their loved ones below, shouting about how they're gonna miss them or how they'll bring a gift from New York once they return home to their awaiting embrace. Lingering words and held breaths painted a canvas of poignant parting, heartbeats echoing their farewell. It was messy but sweet at the moment, the promise of returning in the air as the last warning of departure was echoing in the air from the captain.

Goodbyes were bittersweet yet freeing sometimes, and you wished you could say your goodbye to the life you've been living since the day you were born. The cause of your anguish was simply because of your social status, standing between the snob and rich people like you belonged in the place like them.

You didn't.

You weren't like your mother, who only respected and liked people with the same social status like her (the high class, or better said the first class) and you certainly weren't like her in the way she couldn't even look in an eye to a person with a lower class than her. She spoke of them lowly, like their hands have never touched gold and silver like hers did every day. She thought of them lowly, like she was something more than them in the society.

You weren't like your fiancé, König, who you could learn to love in the depths of your big heart if it wasn't for his constant actions to please your mother. He wasn't really that bad but he wanted to fit in and that changed his way of thinking and acting. He started agreeing more with your mother on things he didn't before and the way he did things resembled hers in some way. You couldn't like him anymore after he changed and that left you fluttering your wings in the golden cage your mother trapped you in with her mindset.

However, you were like your father. He was an old man, but he wore his heart on the sleeve of his expensive suit and the words he let out of his mouth were carefully thought through before he let them reach the ears of others. There was nothing but kindness in his blue eyes full of wisdom and he made sure you'd take all the good from him once he was long gone. John was the opposite from your mother, he didn't think differently of other people and treated them all with the same kind of respect until they did something to change his mind. You couldn't put a finger on the thought of how your courteous father ended up with someone as nasty as your mother. It seemed like everyone who walked upon the planet got their piece of love, the question was in which form you'd receive it and if you accepted it.

The voice of your mother, fake sweetness dripping from it like the sticky ice cream had streamed down your tiny hand once the sun shined bright and the warmth of the weather was too much for the cold treat, reached your ears and it sounded like a chalk on a board. Many would say the singing from the gulls was annoying and unpleasant to ears, but you supposed they haven't heard your mother's voice yet.

"At least act like you want to be here, [Name]. You're a lady so act like it. Smile."

Her judgmental words always knew how to get into your heart. No matter how thick walls you built around the muscle to protect it, her cruelty found its way to pierce a path and get through. The words of almost inhumanity made your poor heart bleed, then heal enough for you to forget how mean she can be before they attacked again and that process repeated and repeated without any signs of stopping.

'Who said I even wanted to be here.'

You could only thought in your head because according to her, it was unlady like to speak your mind up and another lecture from the woman you called your mother would only bring you a headache.

'With you from all the people.'

König placed his hand on the small of your back in a silent plea to keep moving forward and you did so, slowly continuing in your path of exploring the ship. His touch brought you comfort in the young days where you've been in love and all over him but those days were long gone. If only he didn't betray your trust like that. And again, you could only blame your mother for that. You saw him nod his head at your mother's words and the urge to push his hand away was stronger than before.

John was walking in front of you with your mother's arm in the crook of his elbow, his other hand resting lovingly at the top of hers, thick fingers occasionally brushing against her knuckles from time to time. He was a gentle man and when he loved, he loved hard and to no end. A personality trait you always admired in the old man.

The man looked over his shoulder at you and König, his eyes twinkling with amusement and excitement while he sent you a wink before he turned his attention to your mother once again. "Give her a break, my love. This was all a sudden opportunity so understand she's a bit . . . well, let's just enjoy the trip."

The old man was all over the opportunity of being on the surface of the giant Titanic and he made clear everyone around him knew it. His love for big ships and ocean was as old as his love for your mother and the excitement he held in himself now was like a child's on Christmas. You didn't want to ruin this moment for him so you forced tight smiles at the people you passed by as you walked on the wooden floor. You had to admit though, even you were robbed of your breath when you saw the unsinkable ship for the first time.

The corset of your dress felt like it was tightening with every step you took and the thought of suffocating there on the spot was welcomed into your restless mind. It would be better than the play pretend game you were showing to people around you and most importantly, you'd be free to fly away from the cage and never return back.

You wanted to turn around, say you didn't feel well or that you forgot to unpack the paintings you took with you, come up with something to convince your parents and fiancé to leave you for a moment so you could clear your head.

A friendly breeze welcomed your uneasy mood as it calmed and ran along your skin like a gentle touch of fingers drawings shapes on your face. You closed your eyes with minimal effort as they felt heavy and let yourself enjoy the simple moment of nature. The salt air entered your nostrils while the wind caressed your skin, your thoughts finally shutting off as the voices and footsteps of your family became more and more distant.

It was just you and your heart now.

Your head moved on its own the moment you felt shivers run down your spine, making you shudder and tense your fingers as they gripped onto the railing you and König were leaning against. The feeling reminded you of an innocent animal, watched by a sinful carnivore. A prey stalked by its predator. Your eyes opened by an instinct and connected with ones that made you feel that way.

And your breath was taken away just like before when you saw Titanic for the first time this day.

Within the Titanic's elegance, an enigmatic stranger appeared in your sight. Shadows clung to him, whispers of intrigue trailing his steps as he returned your stare. Curiosity beckoned, locking gazes and weaving a connection impossible to break and it’s not like you wanted to end whatever was happening.

You weren't a stranger to unwanted attention, you received it all the time as a little kid who danced ballet for the selfish eyes of your mother and you received it even now years later when people saw you with the large man of your fiancé by your side. The attention was all but wanted and you had the urge to hide from that but his attention on you felt somehow different. You didn't feel the tinge of egocentric gaze from him and you certainly didn't feel like he thought any better or worse of you. You were simply just a stranger to him, one that seemed to catch his eyes.

It's probably because it wasn't a look of judgement on his masked face, but rather one of curiosity and intrigue and you welcomed the sudden attention in. The owner was a man, a large one, though he wasn't as big as König, it was clear he was still towering over most of those people amongst him from the C-Deck. Even from the distance you could sense the mystery he was giving off and that made you curious yourself. He wore a dark colored jacket with the hood over his head as he was leaning against a railing like you, his wandering gaze never leaving your form. The weather was fine, warm enough for you to feel good in the short sleeved dress, so the hood threw you off a little but what caught your attention the most was the mask. The skull patterned clothing was hiding his nose, jaw and lips from your gaze as you drank in the appearance of the stranger. He was intriguing and if you could, you'd crack the mystery of him.

You couldn't see well in the distance he was standing in but you were pretty sure his dark eyes never left your figure, even as you turned your head away from him and broke the eye contact. The contact was intense, something you've never experienced before and to your surprise, you wanted more of it even though it sent shivers down your spine. It was like he was pulling you in and you didn't fight against it.

König sent you a concerned glance from the corner of his bright eyes as he stood next to you with his arms crossed on the ship's railing. "You okay? It seemed like you zoned out for a bit here, Schatz."

You turned your head towards him, ignoring the way you still felt his eyes on you before giving your fiancé a tight smile that wasn't convincing at all. "I'm fine. Just tired, I suppose."

"You should rest. We have a dinner planned tonight and your mother will throw a fit when you show up all distracted."

He was right, of course he was, and you didn't like the way he was talking about her. It was like he already made his mind up about his soon to be mother-in-law and the picture of her was pink and sweet. Just the opposite of what she truly was.

You feared she had König wrapped around her finger.

"Okay," you mustered a dismissive reply to his concerns, your head turning oh so slightly in the direction of the masked stranger and your breath hitched in the back of your throat when you caught him looking at you again, his eyes trained on you like you'd disappear if he blinked. The gaze he was offering you felt like he was appreciating you and you felt truly wanted for the first time in your entire life.

What a strange man.

The stranger below was staring off at the A-Deck, his brown eyes drinking your appearance in as you walked away with the large man from Simon's sight and he fought off a disappointed sigh that threatened to spill from his covered lips. You were enchanting like that, a gentle breeze fluttering the short sleeves of your dress with a peaceful expression on your pretty face as you appeared in his life. A sight indeed.

A Scottish man next to Simon waved his hand in front of his friend's face, his own sporting an expression full of cheekiness as he grinned. He wasn't dumb and he saw the way Simon was looking into the distance of the deck above, his eyes trained on one woman in particular. Simon has never acted like this, no matter how the women were attractive or how many drinks he had that night.

"Aye, mate, I think we're losing you there."

Simon Riley was simply down bad, as the Scottish man would say.

A nudge to Johnny's ribs caused for his teasing eyes to pull towards their another friend, Kyle Garrick or rather Gaz as he preferred to be called, as he shook his head in a manner to mock Simon's sudden interest. "You can forget about her right here, pal. She's clearly off limits, one way or another."

All three of them knew to what exactly was Gaz indicating. You were standing amongst rich people and the expensive dress you were wearing that shined in the sunlight with its brightness was of an enough proof. You didn't and wouldn't talk to people like them, whenever you decided on it yourself or because your high status didn't allow such action without having eyes turned on you. And then there was the person next to you, the huge mountain of a man who seemed to care about you with such delicacy Simon was almost pissed off. Of course you'd be taken.

"People like her aren't friendly with people like us."

Simon knew Gaz was right but his mind and heart still wanted to reach for you, to get to know the persona he suddenly became intrigued with.

"Whatever."

But his thoughts were filled with you to the brim, the image of your face imprinted behind his eyes like the finest painting ever painted. It was clear he wouldn't forget about you in some time. And maybe it was for the better.

You didn't know that simple indirect interaction would have a huge effect on your life, both his and yours.

TAGLIST ! @lols-wdym @taylor-clifford-65 @ananas26t @poohkie90 @razzles-boiler @kaysav608 @blvebanisters @sanzuandmikey @snowy-skyways

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gamebunny-advance · 6 months

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1010 Malt Shop - Green Plushie

It's done. It's finally done. 1 week of blood, sweat, and tears (mostly blood), and he's done.

But I don't have a good enough camera nor photography skills to really capture his true charm ;w;

(Boring self reflection + more pics under the cut)

Anyway, this is the project I've been working on lately. No particular thing really prompted this. Like most things I do, it was started on a whim and finished with will power. I don't really have much experience with plush making or sewing, so despite his obvious faults, I still think he turned out pretty nicely for an amateur.

As per usual, I didn't have enough foresight to document the process, but I can nonetheless talk about the experience and point out some details of it.

Firstly, he's a pretty large lad. Here he is compared to the official DJSS plush and one of the test prints I did of "Melon Float."

Counting his straw, he's about 16 inches tall. I wasn't counting on him being so big, so I don't really know what I'm gonna do with him now...

I say this took a week, but I probably could have quartered that time if I had a working sewing machine, but since I didn't, the majority of the time was spent just sewing the thing together. (Btw, pattern over here.) The only fabric details that weren't hand-sewn are the circle/stripe details on his pants and shoes, and the bow/buttons on his shirt, which were all glued on.

The base pattern didn't come with any clothes, so I just adapted the body patterns into clothes. Structurally, he's basically wearing a second skin~ I did think about making the gloves for the sake of accuracy, but at that point, the only skin he'd be showing is his face, and I wanted to keep some soft parts out since his clothes are so stiff. They're so stiff, they can stand on their own and be stacked on top of each other without falling over.

(The plush has a harder time standing than his clothes do...)

Speaking of the clothes, let me say right now that it bothers me more than anyone else that the paint details don't color-match his pants. I was so high on the euphoria of starting this project that when I was out getting supplies, I saw some glow-in-the-dark paint and thought it'd be a great idea since he's a robot and all. The color on the bottle looked close enough at the time, and the original plan was that only the face would be painted with the other details being felt, but on top of me forgetting that effects paint takes a long time to build up layers, the green also dried differently than I thought it would, so it threw everything off, but I didn't have the patience to suck it up and repaint everything with a better color match. I did try to add a light gradient with my pastels like in the original art work, but it turned out so light that it's barely perceivable and totally not worth the clamminess I get when I touch chalk.

I think the most time-consuming part was his hair. While sewing the body together took 2 days, the clothes 2 days, and painting 1 day, the hair took about 3 as I had to figure out essentially how to do it myself on the fly. The first day was mostly trial and error. I did find a couple of online tutorials about how to get this loopy yarn hair, but the ones that I found both required tools that I didn't have. Eventually, I figured out a way to make it work, but I feel like it was less than efficient:

Basically, his hair is made with chunks of yarn that are tied together, and each chunk is individually sewn into place. I didn't count, but I think there are 13-14 hair chunks total to give him a full head. I do like how I made his bangs uneven to mimick how I draw his hair, but I couldn't quite pull off having his distinct hair-part and I couldn't figure out how to give the illusion of half his hair being straight without it looking weird. (I did try cutting the loops to let the strands be straight, but I didn't like the look of it, so I kept them all loopy).

This is a weird thing to say out of context, but I'm especially proud of the back of his head. Originally I was just going to paint on his undercut (which I'm glad I didn't because this paint REALLY hardens the cotton), so I got the bright idea to sew on individual strands of yarn for it. I think the effect is great, but I would not wish it upon my worst enemy, because to get the effect, I had to sew on each. strand. individually. The day I made the face poll, and said that was going to be a break day? I wound up doing this instead, and it took just as long to sew in those 20+ strands of yarn as it did the rest of his hair.

To segway into that poll, as you can see, I went with option 2 with some slight edits. Just the white/green eyes looked a little plain to me, so I added my usual dark pupil and added a green-star glitter to the center. I'm the one that has to live with this thing for the foreseeable future, so I made some executive decisions. Unfortunately, there were a few errors while painting, which you can clearly see in the above pictures OTL. I did try to seal off my painting areas with tape, but it still bled and stained in a few places. I don't really know if it's possible to clean the stains without ruing the rest of the face, but if you have any ideas, I'd love to hear them.

There are a few extra details that I guess are worth pointing out: he's actually wired. I put in some armature wire so he'd be able to move his limbs despite the stiff felt but... I didn't secure them that well, and the wire for his arms got displaced, so I currently can't bend them ;3;. I'd have to open him up again to replace it, and I REALLY don't want to undress him again to get to his back. The worst thing about this plush is that his clothes are so stiff that he's actually very hard to dress.

The wire in his legs is mostly still in place, so he can at least (kinda) sit.

I think the last thing worth talking about is the ice cream accessory. It was really simple to make (it's just air dry clay over foil + extra pieces), but it's cute, so I wanted to point it out~

It's a hair clip, so it can be taken on and off. Theoretically, it could be worn by a person, but it's a little heavy to be wearing it all day~ The camera/lighting really blew out the colors, but I think it turned out to be a nice creamy french vanilla color like I really wanted~

Other details like the glitter on his eyes/cheeks can't really be captured on my shitty ipod camera, but rest assured that he is pleasantly sparkling~

I think my biggest takeaway from this project has been materials: I thought that using felt would be a great alternative to having to buy an entire yard of fabric for a one time project, but besides the paint, it was the hardest material to work with. If I have to pick and choose, next time I think the body will be felt, and the clothes will be cotton, or maybe I'll actually invest in some fleece, so it can be soft all the way~ Since the clothes are removable, I could theoretically make him his default sailor suit and just replace the straw with his proper hair loop to convert this into a "canon" design plush, but we'll see what the future holds. I did get the felt colors to make my *other* babygirl, but given this experience, I may hold off on making him until a much later date.

#gbunny makes #plush #nsr #no straight roads #green 1010 #1010 #1010 malt shop #short story time: so I think i've said this before #but i originally started the malt shop series because i just wanted to make a pink white!1010 and it just evolved from there #and i wanted a pink version of him because in the off chance that i ever decided to 'make' something of him #i wanted it to fit in with the rest of my things #which are mostly pink #well the day finally came when i wanted to make something #that said #i made green because 1: i thought the contrast would actually work better for my pink things #since green and pink a complimentary colors #and 2: all of green's hair accessories would give me more things to make #and thus more skills to use/improve on #since it's my first 'original' plush i wanted to practice as many techniques as possible so the next one can be even better!#this experience has taught me that i DEF need to sew in his head accessories BEFORE the hair #and if i'm going to add an undercut using this method #I also need to do that before the hair #i'm telling you. sewing the base was the easiest part #it's all the hair that was the biggest hurdle for me

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lowkeyerror · 2 years

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Saving a Killer

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 519

Warnings: Dark themes, murder, descriptions of violence, descriptions of graphic injury, death.

Summary: In Y/n's small town there has been a recent string of murders. While walking home late one night, she runs into the killer. It's not who she thought it would be.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

There wasn't any peace in Y/n's rural neighborhood. How could there be, when people were dying? When there was a murderer on the loose.

They did their best to prevent it; curfews, metal detectors, and police everywhere. This behavior only puts the citizens in a higher state of paranoia.

Y/n tried not to think too hard about it. Y/n tried to rationalize that she couldn't be murdered. No one had a motive to kill her, so she should be safe.

Citizens were frightened, but refused to take many precautions. They fought against every protective measure put in place. As a result, the curfew was lifted, and nightlife raged on.

This meant that Y/n was back to being a closer at work. She walked to and from your job most nights. However, with a string of murders happening in town the thought of walking home alone scared her.

Nonetheless, her fear didn't kick in until it was too late. She closed up shop by herself, and it was time to walk home.

Y/n kept a brisk pace and her eyes straight ahead of her. The cold sweat that covered her body was uncomfortable.

She had almost made it home when she saw it. Her hand clasped over her mouth to keep from screaming. Y/n was frozen in place with wide eyes.

What she had seen was a man stab a woman. Her adrenaline was going, this man had to be the murderer. Flight or fight took over as she saw the girl's body hit the floor.

She ran towards the man, not stopping as the image of him got closer. Her body collided with his and the knife flew out of his hand.

His head bounced off the concrete and his body was still.

She shook violently on top of the man. Panic crept up her veins as she saw his blood begin to pool on the sidewalk.

Y/n jumped when she felt a hand land on her shoulder. It was the woman who she had thought to be dead.

" I- I think I-"

The words died in her throat as tears began to cascade down her face.

" You saved my life."

She began mumbling to herself," They're going to put me in jail. They'll think I'm the killer. I-"

" I'm not going to let them throw you in jail," the woman says.

Y/n looks up at her. There's something unsettling in her beautiful green eyes.

" How?"

She grabs the man's stiff body by the ankle and begins to drag it while clutching her stomach wound.

Y/n stops her," W-what are you doing?"

" Do you want to ask questions or do you want to stay out of jail?"

She doesn't look at Y/n, but continues dragging the body. There was a grimace on her face as she tugged the body.

Y/n's hands were trembling, she had so many questions, but instead of asking them, she picked up the man's body.

" W-where are we going?"

There was a spark in her eye as she looked at Y/n.

" Follow me."

#lowkeyerror #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #lowkey error halloween special

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mycurrent-hyperfixation · 2 years

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Take A Chance On Me - Chapter Twelve (Eddie Munson x Reader Series)

Series Summary: Corroded Coffin is lacking only one thing that could help them win the upcoming Battle of the Bands; original songs. So when a new band comes to town with a lead singer that looks all too familiar and a repertoire of original songs up their sleeves, Dustin concocts a plan that will get you to spill all of your songwriting secrets to Eddie. It’s just a few dates, right?

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Masterlist

Word Count: 9.1K

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Reader, Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, 10 Things I Hate About You AU

A/N: Ok so I haven’t received any replies back from Tumblr about my account being unshadowbanned but I’ve just realised that my messaging feature has returned so I’m hoping that means that I’m back up and running again. So this post is a bit of a test. Thank you all so much for hanging in there with me. Only one more chapter to come after this. As always, love you all!

In the end, the four of you scrambled your way backstage with just as much urgency as Eddie had, although hopefully with a little more decorum. There was only one part of the night still yet to be performed, and having one of the two bands late to the announcement of the winner likely would not look good no matter the outcome. As you rounded the corner into the green room, your eyes immediately came to fall upon Eddie, the chiselled stature of his back facing you so that for just a second you couldn’t quite help from stopping to admire his frame. The sight caught you off guard, and a heat rose to your cheeks as you realised what you were doing, hastily turning your head away.

“You owe me big time, Munson,” Gareth groaned from the corner, his head resolutely held within his hands as he hunched over in his chair.

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie said nonchalantly, his tone somewhat distracted. “Whatever you want, man.”

It was clear that Eddie was yet to notice your presence within the room, and as you entered further you caught sight of the dopey grin that was spread wide across his lips. His eyes were half-lidded, his gaze staring at seemingly nothing at all as he packed his guitar back into its case with an efficiency that led you to believe he wasn’t paying much attention to the action. It was as if Eddie were off in his own world, only broken from his reverie as Robin quite unceremoniously threw herself down onto a chair, the legs scraping against the floor an announcement of your presence.

Eddie’s head whipped up, his hair floating around him as he did so. He looked almost startled, as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t have. But when his eyes met yours it was as if the tension in his body left all at once, and the return of the dopey grin had you fighting off one your own. Neither of you spoke as your attentions drifted back to your own groups, and yet whenever you snuck a glance up towards Eddie, his eyes were always already on you.

Robin’s leg bounced persistently against the floor, and if you were not busy fighting the surge of your own nerves, you might have had the heart to tell her to stop. The air in the room grew quieter the longer the time stretched on, all of you waiting to be called onto stage. In the end, the stage manager appeared after only ten minutes, and yet the wait had felt like a lifetime. Each of you fell into step behind one another, lips held tightly shut, hands slightly shaking.

This was it; the culmination of weeks of performing and practicing and writing and rewriting songs. The pinnacle of all the blood, sweat, and copious amounts of tears that had been poured into it all. It was the conclusion of the betrayal; the final outcome of the lie and whether or not Eddie Munson had learned enough about song writing from you to score higher in this final round.

The thought made your gut twist uncomfortably. The thought made you want to simultaneously reach out and grab Eddie’s hand within your own and also turn right around and punch him square in the nose. But what had been done was done, there was no way to change any of it now. There was simply the announcer, a folded piece of paper in his hands; the folded piece of paper that held your fate upon it.

The air in the wings was practically unbreathable as the eight of you stood in silence, awaiting your final cue to enter onto the stage. You held your gaze resolutely with the floor, trying to get your breathing under control and knowing that the sight of Eddie Munson standing before you would only make that harder. When you felt a hand slip into your own, you whipped your head up to find Robin offering a kind smile, and although you smiled gratefully back, you could not quite quell the disappointment that it was not his hand within yours.

“Whatever happens out there,” Robin said softly so that only your band could hear her. “We are still awesome.”

You squeezed Robin’s hand, hoping that the gesture would be enough to translate your gratitude for you were quite positive that if you were to speak in your current nerve-wrecked condition nothing would come out. You wanted to say something, wanted to comfort the girls and wipe their anxiety away in the way that only Robin’s goofiness could achieve. But as a silence overcame you all, it was clear that simply doing this, being in each other’s presence, was enough.

In the end you were only pulled away from each—Robin’s hand still in yours, your other arm having come around to latch onto a less than willing Meg’s shoulder whilst Vicki curled into Robin’s other side—by the stage manager, who was efficient and clear in their instructions for you to begin lining up to head on stage.

When you did as you were told, you were the last member in your band to join the line and Eddie the first in his so that in the end he came to stand directly behind you. And maybe he was standing just a little bit too close since you could feel the heat emanating from his body and could hear his breath so close to your ear, but you did not pull away. It was oddly comforting in a way, having his solid presence so close behind you so that for just a moment your nerves seemed to ebb slightly. You felt like leaning back, pressing yourself into him where maybe his arms would come up and wrap around you. But you continued to stand where you were, too consumed in trying to calm your racing heart to allow the thought too much traction within your mind.

“Good luck out there,” sounded from right beside your ear, said in barely above a whisper and yet still you jumped away in surprise.

Eddie was smiling down devilishly at you when you turned to face him, and you hit him in the chest lightly in response to try and distract him from the way you knew your cheeks were reddening. And maybe if your hand lingered there for a little longer than it should have, neither of you mentioned it.

A silence blossomed between you now, one that was not really a silence at all since there was the chattering of your band right beside you and the whispering of Eddie’s band right beside him and the screaming of the crowd as the announcer eventually made his way on stage. But it was still a silence nonetheless as you continued to stare up at Eddie and as he continued to stare down at you, neither of you quite knowing what to say and yet both of you wanting the conversation to continue.

“Whatever happens out there,” you found yourself saying before you had even made the decision to do so. There was a seriousness to your tone now, one that you could tell Eddie noticed, his back straightening, his head inclining down just slightly closer to yours in what you assumed was an attempt to hear you better. “Whoever…whoever wins.” You swallowed thickly and averted your gaze to the ground, unable to look at Eddie’s captivating eyes any longer lest you lose your resolve. “It’ll be well deserved.”

And you stuck your hand out towards him.

You didn’t really know why you did it. The gesture was awkward, stiff, and became even more so when Eddie, after a few seconds hesitation, slowly reached out and engulfed your hand within his. When he shook it, you cringed slightly at yourself.

It had been a peace offering, both the sentiment and the handshake, and yet now it had just seemed to make everything more awkward. Because you hadn’t meant any of it, and you thought that maybe there was a part of Eddie that knew that as he looked down upon you and as you continued to look at the floor. You hadn’t meant a single word even though you had so hoped that by speaking the words into existence some part of you might come to believe them. But in all honesty the mere thought of Eddie winning made your skin crawl. The thought of the announcer calling his band’s name instead of yours made your blood boil. The thought brought back all the distrust and resentment that you had felt towards Eddie over the past few weeks, and even though you knew it to be wholeheartedly unfair, the feelings persisted.

There was a very real chance that Eddie was going to win, and you were quite well aware of that fact. But there was also a part of you that knew that Eddie deserved to win, that his band was just as good as yours even if you had been the one to help him with his song writing. Because deep down you knew that Eddie had not really stolen anything from you; he had not gone into your notebook and copied your lyrics as Gareth had attempted to do, he had not coerced you to write songs for him. Your tips had been said in passing; small, off-handed things that most people would have forgotten about the very moment the conversation changed topics. And the truth of the matter was that you had intended for them to help Eddie when you had uttered them, even though you knew he was your rival. You had intended for them to help him and so you could not hold it against him when in the end they had.

When you finally turned your gaze back up to meet Eddie’s, there was something knitted between his brow as he stared back; something soft and gentle and altogether quite comforting. He knew, you were quite sure. He knew you were lying and yet he gazed upon you with nothing but kindness behind his eyes. The sight made you want to turn away, it made you want to walk away from him, and, just slightly, it made you want to cry.

So when you felt the soft touch of Eddie’s pinky finger coming to wrap tentatively around yours, you couldn’t quite stop your breath from hitching in your throat. The touch was delicate, hesitant, barely there at all really, and yet you found yourself leaning into it slightly anyways.

“Whatever happens out there,” Eddie echoed. “It’ll be well deserved.”

And the emphasis and the surety and the sheer certainty in his voice had you furrowing your brow in confusion.

---

Eddie watched nothing but you as all of you began to shuffle your way on stage.

He paid no mind to the blinding stage lights when he stepped out into their threshold. He completely missed when the announcer introduced Corroded Coffin’s name, his voice reverberating around the halls. He barely even noticed the throngs of people cheering, some for him and some for you, and yet all just as deafening in their delivery.

Because you were right there in front of him, walking with a slightly tentative step in your gait that he knew was because of your nerves. You were right in front of him and your hair was moving around you as you walked and your hips were swaying slightly with every step and he was catching the remnants of your perfume as he stepped into the space that you had just briefly occupied.

And maybe he was walking just a little too closely behind you, because when you eventually stopped where you had been told to stand, Eddie had to halt suddenly lest he crash right into you. You turned to look up at him briefly when you noticed his proximity, and Eddie quickly tried to hide his reddening cheeks under his mane of hair before you could notice. He stepped back a little further, joining the space where his own band resided, and tried to resist the urge to look back at you once more.

“After weeks of seeing groups of talented bands competing to be the best,” the announcer spoke into his microphone, his voice ringing relentlessly around the space until it had been repeated back to Eddie an infinite number of times. “We have finally whittled it down to the last two.”

The crowd erupted in a deafening roar and Eddie fought the urge to cover his ears.

“These two bands have consistently blown us all away with their original songs. I’m sure we all remember these lovely ladies’ introduction to us with their song You and Your Hand.”

The crowd screamed again and Eddie whipped his head around to catch the tail end of your beaming smile. The sight of it warmed his heart so that now his own lips were upturning just ever so slightly.

“And then not even one round later Corroded Coffin pulled their original song ‘Na Na Na’ out of nowhere. Seriously, boys, I think you blew out one of my ear drums with that one.” The crowd laughed and Eddie couldn’t quite stop the proud smile that erupted onto his features. For just a moment, he thought that he felt the heat of your stare upon him, but when he glanced back towards you out of the corner of his eye were you looking resolutely out towards the crowd.

“These two bands have performed spectacularly and, more importantly, consistently throughout this whole competition. We have never before in the history of this competition had a final where the scores were so close.”

Eddie could feel himself sweating now, and he so wished he could blame it on the heat of the stage lights. But he was nervous, there was no use in hiding it. He was so painstakingly nervous and he absolutely hated it. The thundering of his heart, the quickness of his breath, all of it was making him feel a little bit sick and he so wished that the announcer would just cut to the chase and read out whatever name was written on the paper he was holding.

But the man was content on playing out his theatrics, apparently revelling in the suspense he was building that felt almost so thick that it was making it hard for Eddie to breath.

You weren’t standing all that far away from Eddie, maybe only a step or two. And yet the distance felt closer to a mile for you were just far away enough so that Eddie could not reach out and grab your hand as he so desperately wished to do. He wondered whether the crowd would notice if he took a step closer, maybe just to brush the back of his hand against yours, to feel you against him in any way that he could have you. But he knew that there was a journalist lingering amongst that crowd of people, one that had already written about a relationship you likely didn’t want published and one that would likely have a field day if Eddie were to enact any of his ideas to get closer to you. So, begrudgingly, he remained where he was.

Finally, after the announcer had concluded his preamble which had stretched on for what had felt like hours, he brought the paper that lied within his hands upwards, almost as if he had just remembered that he was holding it. There was a glint in his eyes now, as if he knew that the suspense he was curating amongst the room was slowly killing Eddie inside.

“So it is my greatest pleasure to finally announce the winner of this year’s Battle of the Bands.”

Eddie glanced briefly one last time over towards you and found your gaze captivated by the piece of paper held within the announcer’s hand. You were perfectly still, not even a breath escaping your lips. When Eddie looked downwards, he found your hand clasped tightly in Robin’s, your grip so tight that your knuckles had gone white and Robin’s hand had begun to grow red. He grew almost jealous at the sight.

“The winner is…”

The room seemed to still, and Eddie wondered for the briefest of moments whether time had stopped completely, for there was not a sound heard nor a movement made by any of the multitude of people in attendance. There was only the thundering in his chest, so loud it seemed to be the only sound that filled the hall, and the raggedness of his breathing which seemed to be occurring so shallowly that he wondered whether it might just be more practical to stop breathing altogether.

When the name was uttered, it seemed to echo out around the hall relentlessly.

Eddie closed his eyes.

And he smiled.

He was not surprised. He had resigned himself to losing the very moment he had heard the crowd sing along to your lyrics. But in truth he knew that a part of him had always known that you would beat him. He had known from the very moment he had first seen you upon that stage at the Hideout, singing ABBA of all things. He had known it from the original song you had played straight after, something that was so very different to what he normally considered good music and yet which had had his head bobbing along to the beat and his attention hanging off of every lyric, nonetheless.

And the strangest thing was that he was happy about it.

He was happy about losing because he got to see the way your face ignited with elation, how you practically squealed with joy and then engulfed the closest of your bandmates in a bone crushing hug. He was happy about it because the crowd erupted into the most deafening of roars—one that made it hard to resist the urge to cover his ears—that showed that they loved you almost as much as he did. Almost. But mostly, he was happy about it because you deserved it. Because if he was going to lose to anyone, he would quite happily lose to you every time.

There was of course the blossoming of his disappointment, and where he had expected it to shoot through him like a bolt of electricity, it instead seemed to course through his veins slowly, a languid battle that overtook his body an inch at a time until it engulfed him completely. But even then the pain was never at the forefront of his mind, merely an ache that throbbed in the back of his head like a dull headache.

When it happened, it took Eddie wholeheartedly by surprise so that the ache was almost completely forgotten in the blink of an eye. He had been watching you, basking in the glow of your happiness as you had engulfed each of your bandmates and then hugged them again. And maybe it was because you were simply caught up in the throes of it all that you had simply seen another figure close by and decided to hug them as well, but the next thing Eddie knew your arms were coming up to wrap around his neck and his breath was hitching in his throat in surprise. He stilled, quite sure that if he were to even breath the hallucination that he was obviously suffering from would end. But then you pulled away slightly, just enough to look at him, and even though there was the tiniest glimmer of surprise behind your eyes when you realised who was before you, you did not pull away.

Tentatively, afraid that you would leave should he make any sudden movements, Eddie moved his hands to engulf your waist, and when you buried your neck into the crook of his shoulder Eddie was quite sure he might pass out.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered into the shell of his ear.

And you were. Because you could see the look of disappointment behind Eddie’s eyes even though he was smiling widely, and the sight was hurting your heart.

“You deserve this,” was all he said back, and the sincerity behind his voice made you want to cry. And then as if it were instinctual, as if the action was so practiced it had become autonomous, Eddie squeezed his grip around you and lifted. You squealed slightly in surprise at finding yourself being suspended in the air, but then there was the feeling of Eddie pressed tightly against your body, the touch of his breath against your neck, and for a moment it was like the world fell away.

Eddie thought that he could spend the rest of eternity within that moment; with your body pressed against his, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, your hair tickling his skin slightly. He breathed you in deeply, intoxicated by the intensity of your scent, having not smelt it so close since the night at his trailer. To Eddie, it was almost as if the hall was empty, as if the two of you were not standing beside a multitude of your friends. The roaring of the crowd disappeared until it was simply the two of you breathing into each other’s ears. Your chests were pressed together, and Eddie was quite certain that whilst he could hear his own heartbeat thundering within him, he could hear yours, feel yours too right up against him beating just as fast as his was. It made him smile, all of it made him smile so widely that his jaw began to hurt slightly.

In that moment, Eddie felt as if he had spent an eternity with you wrapped within his arms, but in reality he knew that it was likely only a few meagre seconds. When he dropped you gently back down to the floor, he did so hesitantly, so desperate to make the embrace last for as long as you would possibly allow it to. But when your feet eventually touched the ground once more, you released your grip from around his neck and Eddie followed suit, trying to ignore the ache in his heart as he did so.

He glanced upwards only briefly and found the entirety of your band and the entirety of his band staring at the two of you intently. And then, beyond them, there was the crowd also staring incessantly and screaming about something that he was quite sure was unrelated to the announcement of the winner. A monstrous blush flooded his features instantly, consuming his cheeks in their entirety so that Eddie had to turn swiftly away at the same moment that you did. He faced his band instead, knowing that they would likely torment him about the blush later and yet knowing that that fate was better than facing the crowd. When he looked upon them, Gareth only rolled his eyes.

“At least try to look sad,” Gareth groaned.

Eddie did not respond, knowing it was highly unlikely he would be able to fulfill that wish. His smile was too persistent for that.

---

The hallways of the venue were remarkably silent in the wake of it all.

It was calming now that the screaming of the crowd had subsided, the silence that lingered in the air making it so much easier to breath. And yet even though the racing of Eddie’s heart was beginning to slow and he had finally managed to get his breathing somewhat under control, he so wished that he could go back to that moment on stage. He thought of little else as he followed his bandmates back to the green room; the feeling of you pressed so tightly against him, the scent of you so intoxicating and so tantalising that he had never wanted to pull away, the way you had smiled up at him when he had finally released you, so wide and so full and so devoid of any hatred that that little spark of hope within him had grown slightly bigger.

In truth, he had wanted the moment to last forever, but as your groups had finally trickled off stage, the crowd still roaring behind you, Eddie had paused in the hopes that he would find himself lingering within your presence for just a little while longer. But you had been enraptured by your band mates, all of you talking so enthusiastically that your laughter echoed right down the hallway, and Eddie had not wanted to ruin the moment. So he had left, fighting the urge to whip around whenever you laughed, and tried to keep himself from staring at the doorway when he had entered the green room and packed his things away.

Eventually, when your band finally meandered their way into the room, still chatting away idly, Eddie could not quite seem to stop his heart from falling when you did not enter alongside them. He thought of the possibility that you had gone back to the bathroom, and then became quite distracted as he remembered the interaction the two of you had shared within that space only hours before. Briefly, he considered making up some excuse and then going to find you. But he thought the action bordering too close on stalkerish and so resigned himself to staying where he was.

But then as if Robin Buckley had the power to read minds, not even a second after a small sigh had escaped Eddie’s lips, she called out to him, “She’s gone to get some air outside.”

Eddie’s head whipped up to meet her gaze, a dark blush erupting onto his features at having been read so easily. Robin only smirked back in response.

“Okay…cool,” Eddie heard himself saying and then cursed himself for how timid he sounded. He was not some lost puppy who needed to trail after you wherever you went, no matter how much he wanted to. So he fought the urge to rush from the room immediately, knowing that you had likely escaped the confines of the venue in an attempt to seek out some solitude. He tried sitting down to get his mind off of you, but his foot only began to tap incessantly on the ground. He turned to face his bandmates, trying to force himself to tune in to whatever conversation they were having. It worked for a while, although in truth he never did quite follow whatever they were talking about before he found his head turning towards the door once more, hoping that you would walk through it. He stood, paced a few steps pretending to grab something or another from across the room before returning back to his seat, his leg immediately returning to its fervent bouncing.

“Please put us all out of our misery and just go,” Robin called out once more.

Eddie looked towards her, knowing that his cheeks were returning to their reddened state, wholeheartedly embarrassed now that he realised that every pair of eyes in the room seemed to be fixated on him.

“I-” he began, not knowing quite what to say. He turned to his own bandmates, not wanting to utter the words that would ask for their permission to depart, and yet needing the confirmation anyway. They had just lost, and the loss had been a group experience. He could see the disappointment etched across all of their features, the sadness that lingered behind their gazes. It would be unfair if he were to leave them, he realised, unfair to show that his mind had processed the loss and had come to terms with it a long time ago. So he turned to face them fully now hoping to show that he would stay, that he would hurt alongside them. But just as he resigned himself to his chair once more, Gareth spoke up.

“You’re pathetic, man,” he said, but there was no venom behind his voice. Eddie turned to glance at him, finding Gareth’s lips upturned ever so slightly, betraying his amusement of the situation. “Go,” he continued, paired with a roll of his eyes.

Eddie stood abruptly, the smile that spread across his lips seemingly unstoppable as he looked down at his bandmates. With a fluid motion, he leant over to ruffle Mike’s hair, revelling in the look of disgust that covered the boy’s features as he did so.

“I’ll be quick,” Eddie said, already beginning his scramble from the room.

“That’s nothing to brag about,” Gareth jeered back and Eddie, who barked out a bout of laughter, flipped his middle finger at him before he retreated through the door.

Eddie practically skipped down the hallway. It was nice to joke with Gareth again in a way they had not done in a while. Things had grown awkward between them ever since that night at the Hideout, and although Gareth had offered some semblance of an apology not long after, the awkwardness had lingered.

The night air was cool as Eddie practically ran through stage door, his eyes immediately scanning the surrounding area for your figure. When he did not find it immediately, his smile faltered, something uneasy washing over him at your absence. He walked further into the carpark, spinning around on his heels as he peered into the darkness. A panic was slowly starting to trickle into him now, inching across his skin, heading straight for his heart. But just before it set in, a silhouette caught his eye, and the sigh of relief that escaped his lips echoed in the air around him.

Just beyond the limits of the carpark lied a stretch of grass slightly overgrown in some areas and slightly dead in others. Yet you were lying down upon it, your gaze fixated up to the stars above you, and for just a moment Eddie stopped to marvel at the sight.

With each step, the gravel underfoot crunched together so that Eddie’s presence was announced long before he made it to your side. And yet the more he walked the more he found his heart beginning to race and his skin beginning to sweat despite the slight chill in the air. There was a large possibility that this was a bad idea, Eddie thought. You had come out here to find solace in the silence. You had come out here to be alone and Eddie was about to ruin that for you. He thought for a moment about turning back around, about heading back inside and leaving you to your solitude, for maybe you were yet to notice his approaching footsteps. But just as the thought crossed his mind, your head poked up from where you were lying, your gaze meeting his, and the small smile that spread across your features when you looked upon him made something warm spread through his heart.

“Hey,” he said into the silence of the air, his voice coming out far softer than he had intended.

“Hey,” you said back before you were leaning your head back onto the grass, your gaze returning to the stars.

Eddie lingered where he was, wholeheartedly unsure as to what to say or what to do now that the silence had settled itself over you once more. He could sit down beside you, there was certainly enough room to do so, but he wondered for a moment whether you would want him to, whether his presence would ruin the peace that you had sought out.

And then, because your entire band could apparently read his mind, you spoke once more.

“You can come and sit…if you want.”

Eddie hesitated for just a second, knowing that his cheeks were now ablaze and the smile the spread across his lips would look strange in the stillness of the situation. Tentatively, Eddie closed what distance still remained between the two of you, lowering himself down to the grass where he joined you in looking at the stars. And maybe he misjudged the distance between you just slightly so that his side came to rest gently against yours, but he could not quite pull himself to readjust his position further away from you, and you made no comment about his closeness.

The stars were beautiful, the clouds few and far between so that their light twinkled for miles all around you. And yet Eddie found himself distracted from the view, too busy thinking about how warm you felt beside him, how your hand brushed his before you brought it up to rest across your stomach, how you could likely hear how hard his heart was beating.

The silence was surprisingly nice, so comfortable that Eddie found his breathing becoming more laboured and his eyes beginning to droop. It always surprised him how comfortable he became within your presence, no matter how long he had known you for now. It almost made him sad when you eventually broke the silence.

“Do you know any constellations?”

He almost laughed. When Eddie had come out here he had expected a multitude of conversations to ensue; about the performance, about the competition, maybe even about whatever it was that the two of you had become. But this was somehow better, the mundaneness of your question, the normalcy of it all, so that Eddie felt as his smile grew wider.

“Um,” he mumbled, finally turning his attention to the stars. “You see those three in a line,” he said, pointing above him. You hummed in affirmation and Eddie felt the slightest of vibrations from your body against his side. “That’s Orion’s belt.”

“It looks like a belt,” you said, your voice so soft Eddie thought it almost sleepy.

“That’s probably why they called it that,” Eddie said, letting out a small chuckle. “You see that really bright one?”

You hummed again.

“That’s Sirius.”

You shifted slightly, and for just a moment Eddie thought that you had crept just infinitesimally closer to him. He could feel your hair now as it brushed against his neck, tickling his skin. He could hear you breathing, soft and content and somewhat comfortable in a way that he so wished that you were. He turned to face you, the inclination of his head slow and hesitant, afraid that you would notice and turn away from him. But your gaze was fixated upon the stars, their glow reflected in your eyes so that Eddie felt he could look at you like this forever. It made him want to say those three words again, and he could feel them bubbling up within his throat before he swallowed them back down hastily.

“I don’t think I ever thanked you,” you said.

“For what?” Eddie responded, utterly perplexed, for he had done many things to you in the past few weeks and none seemed to be worth thanking him for.

“For letting me use your guitar…at the semi-finals.”

“Oh,” was all Eddie could think to say because now you were turning to face him, that glint still bright behind your eyes so that for just a moment Eddie seemed incapable of intelligent thought. “W-well you would have lost otherwise and-”

“I thought that was the point.” You voice was resigned now, almost defeated in a way. “The point of the plan and everything…for me to lose.”

“No,” Eddie hastened to say before he took a second to ponder over his words. In truth, he had never put too much thought into the idea, but he was positive that he had never wished for you to lose. “I-I wanted us to win, I guess. And I know that for us to have won it would have meant that you would lose but I guess I just never thought about it like that. The plan was,” Eddie hesitated, pausing to swallow the saliva that had accumulated quickly within his mouth. “God, the plan was so fucking stupid.”

“I’ll agree with you on that one,” you said, and your voice was so much more light-hearted than Eddie had expected it to be so that he was surprised to see a small smile upturning the corner of your lips.

“I’m glad that we lost in a way,” Eddie said. You quirked an eyebrow at the statement, the disbelief clear in your taunting smirk. “It wouldn’t have felt right if we had won over you, not when you helped me so much.”

“I never wrote any lyrics for you though. Not for the songs that you played at least. That was all you.”

“Y/N.” Eddie’s tone was serious now in such a way that it rarely was so that you found yourself listening intently. “None of those songs would have ever been finished if it wasn’t for you.”

He could see it now that you had turned towards him, the slight sheen behind your eyes illuminated by the stars, and he so wished that he could somehow turn the conversation back to when it was meaningless and fun.

“Especially that last song,” Eddie found himself saying. “All of my scratched records and therapy bills gave me a lot of material to work with.”

The bark of laughter that escaped your throat echoed out into the empty space around you. Eddie watched on as you laughed, the smile upon his lips growing until its wideness could go no further.

“I never scratched that record!” you exclaimed. You shoved him away playfully but there was no real force behind the push so that Eddie remained close by your side.

“I mean, come on,” Eddie chuckled. “You might hate me but sabotaging a man’s records is going too far.”

He had meant it as a joke—said it as a joke—and yet the way your smile fell from your lips had Eddie’s own smile soon following. In the blink of an eye, the air had seemed to change, and so for just a moment Eddie wished he could travel a few seconds back in time and kick himself before he ever made your smile disappear. You turned your gaze back up to the stars, a silence coming to linger over the two of you.

“I don’t hate you.” The words were calm, resolute and unwavering in their delivery as if you had thought long and hard on the subject and had come to your conclusion. “I think it’s hard to hate a whole person.”

Eddie’s heart pounded within his chest, a strange mixture of happiness and nervousness bubbling up within his throat so that he found himself unable to speak. You had said it so coolly—those four simple words—that for a moment Eddie thought that he had dreamt it all, that he had merely wished for you to respond just as you had so that he had hallucinated it into existence.

“I hate the part of you that hurt me,” you continued, and Eddie scarcely allowed himself to breath, hanging upon your every word. “The part that lied.” And then you were turning towards him, and your gaze was so captivating and so unyielding that now it was Eddie that felt like turning away. “But I think that that part of you is gone now, dying almost.”

There was the slightest hint of something in your voice—forgiveness, perhaps—and Eddie could not quite help from closing his eyes at the sound of it, hoping to hear it better. He leaned his head forwards just slightly so that his forehead grazed with yours. And although the touch was light, barely there at all, it was enough to have his heart thundering and his breath hitching.

“That’s what I wanted to say to you back in the wings,” you said, your voice barely more than a whisper in your newfound proximity. “The song we played…it wasn’t about you. Not this you at least.”

"I kind of knew," Eddie found himself saying. "You never looked at me whilst you sang, so I thought...well I hoped..."

When he reopened his eyes, you were staring intently at him, and for just a moment Eddie thought that his heart must have stopped completely. There was a glint behind your eyes now, something almost close to surprise, as if you could not quite believe that Eddie had remembered something you had told him in passing so long ago.

Now, it felt almost as if the air was building to something, preparing for something. As if the tension were climbing and rising, just waiting for something to push it all over the edge. And Eddie was so breathless from it all; his head practically spinning, his heart racing. The pressure felt like something akin to a movie; the tension that fills a room right before a bomb goes off, a pressure almost as if a western standoff were occurring, one cowboy waiting for the other to draw his pistol. One wrong move, and everything would come crashing down, and Eddie was so viscerally aware of this that he could feel his hands beginning to shake.

“Can I kiss you?” The words tumbled from his mouth of their own volition, and a deep blush arose to his cheeks at the blatancy of the question. But Eddie thought it pertinent that he ask lest he misjudge the situation for something that it was not. He could not risk pushing you any further away from him, no matter how desperate he was to reach across and pull your face into his.

You remained silent for quite some time, pondering the question, all the while Eddie was slowly dying inside. His breathing had stilled completely now, scared that he would miss whatever response you were to give him.

“No, I don’t think so.”

Eddie had been expecting the rejection, although he had thought that your negative response to his proposition would hurt, that he would become embarrassed and rush to leave. And yet as he looked upon you there was the slightest upwards curve of your lips, something devilish laced behind the glint of your eyes.

“Okay,” he breathed.

Whatever it was that you had expected Eddie to say, it was clear that you were happy with his answer, for your smile widened just slightly. Eddie felt as your hand brushed against his own, and whilst that touch was enough to have his breath hitching in his throat, it was the tentative way that you interlaced your fingers with his that had him feeling suddenly dizzy. He looked down to where your hands were conjoined, as if making sure that what he was feeling was indeed real.

You were close now, so close that it would simply take a slight inclination of his head for your lips to brush. But he moved no closer, abiding by your wishes even though he could scarcely pull his eyes away from the fullness of your lips sitting so temptingly before him.

“We should probably head back inside,” he heard you say, his gaze transfixed by the movements of your mouth, your voice barely above a whisper.

“If that’s what you want,” he said in response, and the breathlessness in his voice made him blush slightly.

But for just a heartbeat longer you stayed resolutely by his side, and that hesitation made Eddie’s resolve to abide by your wishes that much harder. The shine of the moonlight was dim, but it was enough to see the curve of your jaw, the slight lift of your hair as the breeze wafted through it, the silhouette of your body laid out before him. He wanted nothing more than to close that final distance that still lingered between the two of you, the space so small that he could feel your breath against his cheek. He wanted to smash his lips to yours, to grip your waist and pull you closer to him until your bodies were flush against one another. He wanted nothing more than to devour you within that moment.

In truth, Eddie was not quite sure how he managed to muster the strength to remain where he was, and so became almost grateful when you eventually pulled yourself away from him. You stood, brushing your hands over your clothes and then through your hair to rid yourself of the grass that had clung to you. For just a second, Eddie allowed himself to linger, content in the sight of you standing before him before he begrudgingly followed suit.

The carpark was practically empty now, only a few stray cars intermingled between your own. When you began the walk back to stage door, Eddie hastened to follow although your pace was remarkably slow, and Eddie allowed himself to hope that your hesitation stemmed from a part of you that wished to prolong the moment. At the thought, a small smile curled its way forcefully onto Eddie’s lips, and he turned his head slightly away from you in an attempt to hide it.

Eddie stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans as the two of you walked, desperately trying to rack his brain for something else to talk with you about. He needed to think of something stupid, something meaningless that the two of you could discuss and that would hopefully allow him to attract a laugh from you. But then before Eddie could speak, almost as if the world was hellbent on ruining whatever kind of ease the moment had brought the both of you, an all too familiar voice called out across the carpark.

“Well if it isn’t the lovebirds!” Eddie watched as you froze in place, your body stiffening instantly. “Having a little celebratory quickie in the carpark, are we?”

Eddie felt his hands ball into fists by his sides, clenching them so tightly that a sting erupted from where his nails were biting into his skin. The carpark was poorly lit, but it was almost like he could see that arrogant smirk just from the boy’s silhouette. There were two other boys standing by his side, both of them snickering away. Eddie was going to punch that smile right from his face, he had decided. He was going to stalk the length of the carpark and connect his fist repeatedly with the boy’s face for all of the unwanted advances and misogynistic comments that he had made towards you.

And just as Eddie was about to step forwards, just as he was about to put in motion the very plan that he so wished to play out, you were stepping away from him. He could do nothing but watch as you walked over to the boy, your posture surprisingly calm and your face sporting some semblance of a smile, even if it were painstakingly fake. But the boy seemed to not notice the forced strain of your lips or how the smile never seemed to reach your eyes, for a glimmer of surprise flashed across his features before the smirk was fixated back in place.

“Finally come to your senses then, darling?” he continued. “I’ll show you a way better time than this freak.”

When you finally paused before the boy, your smile was still fixated in place as you looked up at him, and for just a moment Eddie considered the possibility that he had misjudged the situation. Maybe you were interested in this slimy pig of a man. Maybe you had gone over to him with the intent of conversing, maybe even with the intent of going home with him, for you did look awfully relaxed standing before him now. So Eddie held his breath as he watched you, so wishing that he was wrong and yet knowing that he could do nothing about it if he wasn’t.

You said something, although you were just slightly too far away for Eddie to hear properly. But whatever you said caused the boy’s smirk to waiver slightly, and Eddie felt a glimmer of hope arise within him. He wanted to step closer, partly because he wanted to be there if you needed him and partly because his curiosity was burning to hear what you were saying. But before he could take a single step you were moving again, bringing your foot up.

In one swift motion, you kicked the boy right in the crotch.

Eddie winced when your foot found its mark, feeling almost bad for the boy as he crumpled to the floor and howled in pain.

“If I ever see your face again and if I ever hear you say another word to me or my friends, I will make sure that whatever hopes and dreams you have about passing down your misogynistic little genes won’t ever come true. Got it?”

The boy nodded, his eyes held firmly shut and his features scrunched in pain as he breathed deeply, his hands holding his crotch. You turned to face Eddie once more, making as if to leave, and the smile that was spread across your lips—far more genuine and real than the last one he had seen—made something warm erupt within him. But then, suddenly, almost as if you had forgotten something, you turned back around and connected your foot once more with the boy’s crotch, albeit with a little less force this time.

“And that’s for touching my guitar!”

You were turning back towards Eddie now and your movements were quick as you practically ran the distance to him, a noticeable skip to your step. The smile that spread across Eddie’s lips at the sight of your approach was unstoppable now as he stifled a laugh, unable to stop the swelling of his heart as you neared him and then passed right by in your haste to get back into the venue. You were escaping, he quickly realised, not wanting to stick around for when the boy regained his composure. But then as you were passing him and as Eddie was about to follow, your figure was suddenly brushing against his, your hand somehow finding his in the haste of it all until Eddie found himself being pulled along behind you. The laugh escaped from his lips now, and his heart felt almost as if it were about to break out of the confines of his chest when you turned momentarily to flash a smile back towards him. The sight had Eddie’s breath leaving him all at once; the wildness of your hair as it cascaded around you, the hint of your laughter reflected within your eyes, the lights spilling out from the opened stage door behind you making you almost look ethereal.

This couldn’t possibly be real, Eddie thought briefly.

But the feel of your hand held securely within his own said otherwise, the sound of your heavy footfalls echoing around you along with the laughter that fell from both of your lips. When you pulled Eddie into the confines of the hallway that branched off from stage door, he could not help but notice when your hand did not leave his, even when you reached behind him to shut and lock the door upon your re-entrance. And although your scramble to get to safety had been hurried and although you practically flung Eddie into the hallway space behind you, your momentum making it hard to stop, Eddie was still quite unsure how it was that the two of you came to stop in this position; your back pressed into the wall, Eddie’s hand that was not held within your own coming up to support himself right next to your head. Your bodies were close now, so close that with every ragged inhale as the two of you tried to catch your breath your chests would brush lightly against one another.

Eddie was essentially caging you in to the wall, he realised, and if you had not looked so delicious like this and so surprisingly at ease, he might have found the strength to pull away.

“I can’t believe I did that,” you said, and although your voice was slightly shocked, the smile upon your features was still fixed firmly in place.

“That was, like, the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” Eddie heard himself say, and maybe it was the adrenaline pumping through his veins now or the way you blushed slightly at the comment, but he was not embarrassed by his words. His voice was low as he said it, something close to a growl lingering beneath, and if you could hear the lust laced behind the words you did not mention it.

Now it was just your pants that filled the air, somewhat more resigned now, and Eddie thought to himself that he had never heard a more heavenly sound in his life. It caused something to stir within him, something that he could not let himself ponder over when he was standing this close to you. So he turned his attention instead to your smile, having morphed into something slightly more relaxed now; the slope of your cupid’s bow, the slight parting of your mouth, the fullness of your lips. But his attempts were in vain as the feeling continued, and Eddie thought it quite a good idea that he pull away, that he put some distance between the two of you before his desire began to manifest physically and before you noticed it.

But before he could pull away, knowing that it was quite likely that he would not be able to muster the strength to do so anyway, your voice filled the silence.

“Come to my show on Friday,” you said, your voice a little bit breathless as you stared straight up at Eddie, your gaze unwavering.

All at once, the proposition made Eddie’s heart soar, the thundering of his heartbeat returning all at once alongside his blinding grin. But at the same time there was a part of him that wanted to groan in annoyance, for it meant that he would be resigned to a whole week away from your presence. But to be allowed by your side in any capacity after what he had done was a miracle in itself, and Eddie was perfectly well aware of that as his smile grew somehow wider.

“Are you sure you want me there?” There was so much laced behind the question, so much that Eddie tried to hide in his attempt at an aloof tone and a look of nonchalance. Yet he awaited your response with bated breath, and he thought that the slightest upwards curve of your lips indicated that you were well aware of this. He had dreaded asking it—dreaded your response even more so— and yet he needed to make sure that this was what you wanted.

“I haven’t decided yet.”

In the end, Eddie could only manage to pull himself away from you when the figure of Robin Buckley rounded the corner, a raging blush escaping onto his features as a knowing smirk erupted onto hers.

---

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the-silver-peahen-residence · 6 months

Note

Noo you left a cliffhanger! What happened with Davion and Rust? Did he punish him? What is he planning? Please continue to part two if you can? I need to know.

((Hello anon dear, hope your well this evening. You wish for a part two in this? Hmmm, I wasn't expecting another to continue it. Though, I might have something. Though, this part is a bit more spicy so..just a warning. But here you go.))

Silver butterfly mun/Peahen mom

((Also once more, Rust belongs to @demon-blood-youths )) <3

Davion didn't say a word nor did a thing, looking at his boyfriend/mate laying on the bed in front of him. Though, seems he was undergoing some punishment right now. Well, maybe not as a light punishment. A loud buzz like noise was heard followed by some lewd weak moaning.

"Ahhhhhhh D..Davion, p..please! Please stop t..the d..dildo! Please stop it!! Ahhhhh I s..said I'm sorry. I'm s..so sorry! I learned my lesson just please!! Please let me go!"

Rust knight was laying on his side twitching due to him being tied up tightly. His eyes were covered by a cloth but he was still handcuffed. His face was flushed red, slightly coated in some sweat but that's not causing him to moan out.

"Ahhhhhhhh ahhhhhhhh s..so h..hot..it's still mmmmmmm s..so deep in..inside!!!!! Please take it o..out...t..take it out!! It's hitting my s..spots s..so much!! Ohh f..fuck!!!!!" he begs but he was only shaking more again.

Davion had something as a punishment for Rust in case he missbehaves again. A crafted item that would tease and mess with his spots. Seems it was working as Rust was squirming on the bed tightening around it. Even if Davion was still in the room, he only looks to his treasure taking the punishment.

Even seeing Rust moaning and drooling like that was pretty inviting but he remembers he's being punished. Right now, Rust couldn't move but he was moaning out grinding his hips trying to move but he only bit his bottom lip.

"Haaaaaa...hhaaaaaa...D..davion please...please I'm...mmmmmm...I'm sorry..I'll b..be a good knight. I won't d..do anything stupid a..again..I won't!! Please, just t...take it out. Take it out and f..fill me up..it's not the same..." he begs.

"........"

"A..are you still even in the room? P..Please...I said I'm...gahhh!!" suddenly he felt it get pushed deeper into his hole that Rust screams out. He leans back against the pillow but Davion can see his reactions. His head was pressed against the pillow but he was drooling even more. "Ahhhhhhhhhh!!!!! F...fuck!! Fuck fuck fuck fuck Fuck!!!!!!"

"If I remember treasure, I gave you this punishment to see if you learned....as I said before naughty treasures don't get rewards remember?" he said in a low tone now seeing Rust shaking.

"B..but...but the...hhhhaaa...it's t..too much..I....haaaaa..."

"Bare with it, Rust. You said you would make it up to me..so you have to earn it.." he said but looks to see it starting to move making Rust scream twitching.

"W..wait, wait wait! I..It's vibrating against i..it..I..I can't...I can't hold i..it..I'm gonna..." He was trying to hold it but he only felt his body growing weaker and weaker till he twitched screaming out.

Davion looks to see his knight cumming hard on the sheets but he groans out with his own tongue hanging out as he drools. Tears seen from the blindfold as Rust was whimpering, sniffling a bit.

"Ahhhhhh...i..it m..made me cum...f..fuck it's st..still mmmmmm v..vibrating in..inside of me...." he whines even if he felt his body shaking, it felt good but it wasn't the same. He even reaches to feel for Davion now but he felt so hot from the pleasure that's when he was close to touching his hand. However, his fingers brush against Davion's crotch to tense. He was hard.

"........." This made Rust shake again knowing this was getting the Dragon excited even if he was being punished. "Y...Your h..hard....I.." he whispered now stroking against it. "I..I can be good if you wish me t..to be, Davion. I'll be a good knight....b..but please..l..let my wrists f..free..I'll be good.." he begs about to press up against him but Davion only keeps him back to trap him against the bedboard startling the other.

"!?"

"You forgot already? I said you have to earn your forgiveness my treasure. Even if your hot, wet, and hungry for pleasure..you still are going through your punishment remember? You need to earn it.." he was serious about that but Rust whimpers hearing the tone in his voice.

"D..davion p..please..please I c..can...I c..can take care of you..I'll be g..good.....I c..can....make you f..feel good too. I'll do whatever you ask, I'll d...do it. Just please..please let me f..feel you inside again. Please I...." that's when he feels his hand lower down only to grab his handcuffed wrists. Rust gasped when feeling Davion pull them above his head but he looks to Rust's red facial expression from the rougher dominance.

"............."

However, he even felt him pull Rust against his chest to look at him. His hand cupping his chin to see him. He really was out of it but he already saw his kissable lips parted seeing his sharp teeth a bit.

"You really are precious all weak and needy like this, Rust. Even from the punishments your already hungry for it aren't you?" he asked.

"..Y..Yes s..sir...." he whimpers feeling his head tilted up a little.

"..Though..how do I know you learned your lesson?" he asked but Davion sees him shaking now.

"I..I did..I did learn my lesson just please..I don't want this thing I want you. I want you to b..breed me..please....." he begs him again even with Davion holding him still. With a deep growl, Davion only smacks his ass hearing Rust yelp to twitch against him.

"Then you mean your sorry? Really sorry for worrying me like that?' he asked as Rust moans out feeling him thrusting the dildo deeper inside. Rust could only squirm but Davion kept him still letting him take in the pleasure.

"Ahhhhh ahhhhhh ahhhhhh-AHHHH!!"

"Answer me Rust!" Davion said but Rust threw his head back screaming out in pleasure.

"Y..Yes, Yes I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I won't be bad again! I won't do anything stupid to get hurt like that again! I'll behave just please, I'm so sorry!!" He whimpers shaking like he would cum. Even with Davion hearing that, he already got more excited that he was shifting to his dragon humanoid state to pick Rust up. He felt Davion pull him closer but he shook feeling the scales again.

"D..davion?" He didn't hear the dragon say not one word before he felt himself pulled again but he shook now laying back on the bed. As he was gripping the pillow, he panted. "Davi-Ahhh!!" He felt him spank his ass again but spread his legs to show he was aroused but Davion growls already holding his hips. He didn't know what is going on due to being blindfolded.

"Davion, what's the m..matter? Your n...not...Ah!" he felt it get pulled out while shaking again. He felt empty now whining to why he did that but he got his answer when feeling something hotter and thicker slam inside. Rust screams arching his back off the bed almost ripping the pillow with Davion moaning out from the increased heat.

Even without a word, Davion begins pounding into his knight hearing Rust lustfully moaning in the room while drooling. "AHHHH!! Y..YES, YES PLEASE! THANK Y..YOU, THANK YOU!! OH GOD!! OH THANK YOU!!" he twitched but Rust loved it feeling full again. "L..LIKE THAT!! FUCK ME!! FUCK ME HARDER!!" he begs with Davion holding him down seeing this.

"Haaaaa your so evil to make me that worried. How dare you be a naughty knight worrying your dragon!" he growls against him still slamming up into him as Rust screams out drooling from the rough pounding.

"Ahhhhhh!! I'm s...sorry!! I'm s..sorry, Davion! I'll be a good knight! Just please..please keep fucking me! Fuck me till you break me!" he begs only for Davion to kiss his neck with Rust holding onto him.

"Grrrrrrr...Your such a naughty treasure..your dirty naughty treasure! I should tie you down on this bed, breed you all day and night till your nothing but a moaning mess. You owe me for worrying me this much. You should be punished like the naught knight you are!" he growls clawing his sides hearing Rust hiss.

"Y..Yes sir!! I'm s..such a bad gahhhh knight! P..Please punish me! Punish me for being a naughty knight! Fill me to the brim till you do. Just don't stop please don't stop!" he moans with his tongue hanging out only for Davion to keep him pinned though he did rip the blindfold off seeing his red dazed eyes as he looked really out of it.

"Tell me Rust..who do you belong to? Who do you belong to?" he asked pounding away as Rust curls his toes not able to move but he leans his head back moaning out.

"Say it!"

"Y..You! I b..belong to you! My soul b..belongs to you! My h..hole and body belongs to you! My d..dragon! I belong to you!" he whimpers twitching when he came again. However, this made Davion lick his neck and grind against him.

"Good boy. Your mine and you'll always be mine. But were not done.." he said starting the hard thrusts again. He heard Rust moan shaking with tears in his eyes feeling this again.

"Oh fffffmmmmm!!"

"Don't worry, I'll keep going till I know you mean it. Besides, your punishment will last till you proven to me your a good boy. Till then...your going to stay here and take my thrusts no matter what." he said now seeing a weak dazed Rust while he was screaming out feeling wet. However he was begging for more that shows Rust had a long night ahead of him. Along with him saying sorry for worrying his dragon.

#OOC #scattered silver rose petals #ask answered #mun answered #silver butterfly mun #peahen mom #the mansion owner #davion and rust #the fractions of NYC #anon #peahen writer

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alostlovergirl · 1 year

Text

Pregnancy hours: part 3 to come back to me.

Summary: becoming pregnant has begun to ruin your life.

Warnings: impregnation, brutal birth, manipulation, confused feelings, abuse, taunting, verbal abuse, crying, custody problems, pain, slight gore, blood warning, violation, Stockholm syndrome ( kinda?)

Note: This is it. The end. The last part. I made this the longest one to wrap it up. I hope y'all enjoyed this little series. I'mma take a tiny break because I am really stressed out and had a mental breakdown this morning. I love you guys!

When my eyes opened, my body felt weird, like someone violated me. I lift myself up from the floor and my lightheadness hit me, making my head pound in pain. The birds were chirping and the sun was shining, but I felt like crap. I turn towards my lower body and nothing was altered; the pants were on and still tied up in the little knot that I did, but something still felt off. I felt slightly full and my tummy ached. I just try to ignore the feeling because nothing was altered and nothing was wrong. My window wasn't open and nothing had been touched whatsoever.

So, I go about my life, not worrying since it seemed like Tony had left me alone and continued on with his life. I let myself heal and enjoy life again without the threat on my lively hood. It all seemed to be going good until one day when me and Ethan were shopping at the local mall after work.

I hear been feeling sick and throwing up for the last few weeks. The pains in my gut was getting worse and worse everyday. I ended puking in a public toilet. I felt really bad because everything was hurling and my stomach felt like someone was tanking at it as I puke my breakfast up. Ethan stood outside, concerned for his best friend, pacing the ground like we were in the hospital and they told him I was dying. " hon! You alright in there? " he yelled, his voice echoing through the public bathroom and making my head hurt more. I sit against the stall door, panting as beads of sweat falls down my face from my eyebrow. " What the hell is going on?" I asked to myself, still panting.

I reach over and flush the toilet, shakily standing up with tears in my eyes. " Fuck...”, I stumble my way out of the bathroom, looking at Ethan. He looks back at me with concern all over his face.

"My God! You are paler then the moon. We need to get you to the hospital." he grabs my cold, clammy face. His warm hands calmed my nerves down and I nodded, grabbing his hands. Ethan nods and grabs my hand, pulling me to his car. I laid myself in his backseat, curled up in the sticky leather seats. Probably sticky because of the summer heat. My head was spinning so much that it seemed like time was going slower and slower.

I pass out in the back of his car.

....

When I finally wake up, the knot in my throat was tight and left a big lump right in the middle. My vision was completely blurred up and when it stops, Ethan pacing the floor comes into view. " Eth... What is going on?", my raspy voice rumbles my chest. He stops and looks at me. The fury in his eyes scared the hell out of me and his red face made me coward in fear.

"You are....pregnant...." he spoke, the quiet being penetrated by his firm voice. My boats goes numb with the coldness of the room being the only thing that crawls its way under my thin blanket. Tony... He.. He... I throw up on the floor by the bed. Ethan immediately rubs my back, trying to comfort me as I begun to shake. I put a hand on my stomach and start to scratch at it, screaming. " Hon! Calm down-DOCTOR!” he runs out the room, screaming that I was not well, but really I was trying to get this baby out of my body. His fucking baby.

I clawed at my stomach, crying and hiccuping. " Get it out! Get out of me!" I scream, breaking the skin of my stomach. I punch myself over and over, yelling at no one to get this baby out of me. At one point, I break down, heaving. " W-why...", tears run down my face as Ethan comes back with the doctors and nurses. The doctors tells me that I was already a few months along and that I was basically stuck with the baby that was invading my body. He apologizes over and over as he has to prescribes the prenatal vitamins. Ethan refuses to leave me alone again and takes me to his house with his teenage cousin that he had legal guardianship over, Thomas. Thomas was literally making himself a BLT when Ethan came in with our bags and a traumatized women following after him.

" Umm..should I go to my room..." he held his sandwich as his monotone eyes follows his upset cousin and his friend, who looked like she had been crying. Ethan looks at him and shakes his head. He pulls me towards an fully furnished bedroom. When I am fully set up and Ethan leaves, I drop on the bed and cry. I am pregnant with his baby. How did he do this and when did he do this? Did he rape me? What am I gonna do? I can't take care of a baby. I can barely take care of myself. I am in between jobs that don't pay enough and I live in a tiny studio apartment that has been invaded by an insane man. I try harder, burying my face into my pillows.

Maybe I should've never left him.. All this would have never happened if I didn’t leave him. I put my hand on my baby bump, whimpering. My body hurt and my head hurt. I need a nap. I kick off my shoes and crawl under the thick, comfortable blanket. Once my head hit the pillow, I knocked out.

....

‘Flash... flash...flash'

A camera flash wakes me out of my sleep. I shoot up in my bed with sweat beading down my face. " What the hell?!" I immediately got scared, looking around the dark, hot room. My head was pounding, droolaried on my lips, and something sticky on my face. I touch my face and- " Tony! I know you are here!" I yell out, holding out my cum stained hand. " p-please, leave m-me alone..... I don't want to be with you" I begged with tears in my eyes. I just wanted to be left alone.

.....

"You really think you can care for that baby by yourself. You are in way over your head, darling" I knew I smelt him. I go to tum on the lights, walking slowly along the creaking floor board. " Turning on the lights, darling? Go on. See what you are missing", he spoke, a condescending tone in his voice. It felt like he is taunting me, like I actually missed him. I turn on the lights and the first thing I see is his lifeless, red and yellow suit standing there. My eyes travel to a deshelved, shirtless Tony in red pj pants. My breath caught in my throat as he smirked at me, twirling a packet knife in his hands. I can't lie to my self because he looked amazing. His body still tone as ever and his happy trail leading down under his pants. His prominent bulge sat inbetween his legs. He had let his hair grow out a little bit, but kept his beard trimmed. He stands up, towering over my small frame. He walks over to me, putting his warm hand on my small baby bump. It angered me that this man could still make me wet for him. I am still under his complete control.

"Look at you. You look so damn good carrying my baby. We had been trying for so long, darling.", he spoke as if we were still together. He almost had me in his grasps again, but I push him away.

" No! No... I don't want this. I don't want you. You won't be apart of this baby's life!", I spoke with as much courage as I could muster up. I move away from him, already shaking. He looked shocked, but he laughs and laughs and laughs.

"Darling. You need me. You need my money. You can't take care of you and a baby. " he grabs my shoulders, squeezing it hard. He taunted me with a big smile on his face. " You will come back to me, princess. You are still my wife, no document will change that". Tony walks away from me, leaving finger print bruises on my shoulders. He gets in his suit. I watch as he opens the window and leaves, the smell of motor oil lingering in my room.

I am not telling Ethan about this.

.....

My body was being rearranged from the inside as tears run down the side of my face. I couldn't get an epidural because my blood pressure was dropping and they needed me to get this baby out of me. " Push! One more big push!" the doctor shouted, holding my legs open. Her gloved fingers was slightly digging into my thighs, her stressed out because my blood pressure kept dropping down. I give them one last push and scream as I feel myself tear as the infant comes out, screaming and crying. My body was gushing blood that I started going into shock. The nurses takes the baby and the wheel my bed out the room. I was in and out of this world as my sheets were soaking in my blood. Finally, I pass out.

While I was in operation, my baby boy was placed in the nursery.

...

When I wake up, connected to blood bags, I look around in the bright hospital room. My head was light and I was completely nauseous, but what caught my attention was a very familiar voice talking and cooing at something. When I gathered enough strength to turn my head, I feel tears well up into my eyes at the sight of Tony holding my baby son with Ms. Pepper Potts next to him and his bodyguards outside the door to give us privacy. " what are you doing here?" my raspy voice fills the room and he looks up, smiling.

" Hey there, sunshine... Such a handsome man." he smiles, standing up with my child. I coward in fear as he gets close to my bed, chuckling. " mmm are you ready to come back to me or maybe I need to threaten your maternal instincts." he hums, staring me down. Was he planning to kill our child?

"How would you threaten my maternal instincts?"

"I'll fight for full custody. And I promise I will win. "

What?

He can't do that. That's my baby... That he forced me to have. I look at him. " Give me my child.", I look at him with fear in my eyes. He chuckles, humming. He looks at his son and shakes his head.

"I rather not have my child grow with you and your poor situation..."

"You can't do that", tears begun to well up in my eyes, the knot in my stomach getting tighter and tighter. "please don't take my baby..."

My pathetic whimpering caused him to laugh, holdingthe child secure to his chest. " You will have to come back if you ever want to see you child again, dolly.", that day, my child that I almost lost my life for was taken away from me. I wasn't able to see him. My heart ached for a child that I didn't want in the first place. It hurt because I knew I would betray Ethan if I went back to him. I would reverse all my hardwork in therapy if I went back to him. Every day and every night, I sat in my hospital bed for two weeks straight thinking about how to get my baby back. He even got cps on me, saying that I was poor and an unfit mother to care for my newborn.

This corrupted city agreed that I couldn't see or have visitations until our marriage license was renewed. They completely ignored the evidence of abuse he put me through for the exchange of money. They rather have big bucks then actually look at the facts.

Ethan tried as hard as he could to get my custody back, but he couldn't fight the older and richer man. He apologized over and over to me, but I was stuck in my thoughts about that night. I still have feelings for Tony and I shouldn't. He was an controlling and abusive man, but he used to be so sweet. He was so attractive and the sex was amazing. I don't want him back...I think.

Do I want him back? Do I only want him back cause he has my child? Ethan leaves my hospital room and I just stay there in my thoughts, laying down. He has me wrapped around his finger. He has manipulated me and beaten me and forcibly impreganated me, but I still want him. That night, I realized how much I wantedhim back. How much I actually missed him. I missed his hands all over me, missed the good moments, missed the sex, I missed everything about him. Maybe I need him back in my life.

....

"Please don't do this..", Ethan begged me, but nothing could change my mind. I missed my baby and I missed my... husband. As soon as I got out the hospital, I was cleaning out my room in Ethan's house. I had the renewal form, but Ethan was holding it, begging me not to leave. He was holding my legs, as I was scratching my arm. I felt really bad because he helped me get out of the situation and now I am going right back to it, but I can't be away from my baby and I can't get over my feelings towards Tony.

"I will get your child back..."

"No... Its okay. I will be fine..." pulling my legs away and snatching the form from him, I grab my suitcase. I hug my crying friend and sigh. " I should've never left him. I put you through so much...", he just tightens his arms around me, sniffling.

"Can you just call me to make sure you are okay."

I nodded, pulling away from him. I grab my suitcase, pulling it along the carpeted floor. I walk out the house and Ms.Potts stood there by a black car waiting in the driveway. " good evening, Mrs. Stark", A shock goes through my body at that name. Oh, I've missed the luxury life. Even if I was an abused housewife, he still allowed to do whatever I pleased with his money. I walked past Ms. Potts and get into the car. I scoot over to the further left, putting my head on the window. " You made a good decision", Pepper spoke as she closed the door and the car started to move.

I say nothing and allow myself to be whisked away.

....

I am woken up by Pepper and I am met by the giant penthouse/ tower. I still remember when I left, running across the grass. Now, I am back after almost 3 years. Everything moves quickly as I am taken upstairs to the penthouse. The elevator opened and I walked into the warm penthouse seeing my son, now named Spencer, was sitting in the middle of the floor, in a playpen, playing with his toys. Tears well up in my eyes and I go, scooping him up. " baby!” I wisphered-yelled, but Spencer gave me away as soon as he started giggling and squealing.

Tony walks out the kitchen, wiping his hands on a rag. He smirks. " Renewal form?".

I pull the crumpled piece of paper out my back pocket, handing it to him. He reads the paper and smiles.

"Welcome back home, Mrs. Stark."

#dark marvel #marvel #new writer #new #tony stark x reader #tony stark #robert downey jr #warnings #pregnancy

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deepdisireslonging · 2 years

Text

Power Struggle

The reader used to work for Wardlow. Now she works for MJF and he is intent on breaking her spirit. But she’s fighting back with everything she’s got.

Pairing: None

Warnings/Promises: angst, whump (reader forced to wear a shock collar), MJF is an asshole, (spoiler: happy ending)

Word Count: unknown

Note: I was thinking about this all day and couldn’t do anything else until I typed it out. Feedback is super appreciated.

It had started off beautiful enough.

Being a barista at Claudio Castagnoli’s favorite coffee stop had it’s advantages. Chatting one day about how’d you wanted to get into wrestling without the sweating lead to him getting you trained as a valet. Eventually he introduced you to Wardlow, and you two hit it off right away. There was a gentleman’s agreement that they wouldn’t meet in a match for a while. And Claudio promised to be there if you needed him.

For a while, you were happy. Wardlow appreciated your quick wit and quicker jabs against his opponents. You liked that he made you laugh and bought ribbons for your hair to match your bright ring clothes. Your partnership won Wardlow a second championship.

Then MJF began to strangle your dreams.

{*}

“I’m so glad you two agreed to my changes.” His smile was sickening.

While Wardlow cocked his head, you snatched up the contract he just signed and flipped through. A new paragraph on page three made your blood run cold.

“How does it look, Y/N?” He leaned back in his chair. Shawn Spears snickered over his shoulder. “How does it feel, knowing that if your Wardog loses our match, not only does he lose his championship, but he also loses you.”

Wardlow gripped his pen like a weapon, “Max-”

Your eyes flickered through the text. Each word worse than the last.

“Don’t hate me because you can’t read and because your girl can’t do her job. As such, I’m ensuring she gets a better education in wrestling either way.” He watched your eyes shine with tears you’d die before letting them fall. “Even if you win, Y/N is going to start working for me. Unlikely, but if you manage to retain your championship, we might be able to come to a bargain. Keep in mind,” he yawned, already bored with the havoc he’d wrought, “that clause also keeps you from enacting a rematch for six months when you lose.” He reached across the table for the hand you had spread out to steady yourself. “I can’t wait for you to see what real power looks like.”

With a roar, Wardlow flipped the table. But MJF was already gone, his mission accomplished and plenty of doubt sown.

{*}

The referee was distracted with a fake ring. Wardlow knew MJF’s tricks, and was able to disarm him of one illegal weapon. But Max brought a second. A mixture of a low blow and a sharp punch to Wardlow’s jaw dropped him. Max shouted and bounced off the ropes, drawing the ref’s attention. It looked clean. And the pin was set.

You tried to back away from the ring as MJF raised the title above his head. But you bumped into Shawn Spear’s chest.

“Where do you think you’re going, lovely?” He spun you around, making you watch as MJF placed a boot on the back of Wardlow’s neck and posed. He made eye contact with you. Spears held you in place while MJF dismounted the ring.

“I’m going to make your life hell,” you spat. When he raised his hand to slap you, you set your jaw.

“Hmm.” His hand lowered gently back to his side. “We’ll have to do something about that mouth, won’t we?” Wardlow stirring in the ring caught his attention. You winced as his strong grip started to drag you up the ramp. He included you in his pose on stage where everyone and Wardlow could see you standing by his side, and the championship over his shoulder.

{*}

Weeks passed. You did your best to live up to your promise of making MJF’s life a living hell. If he gave you an order, you did exactly as he asked, but with a twist. He stopped having you bring his morning coffee after you blasted cold air over it in your car on the way to the office. It was obvious he wasn’t going to trust you with any paperwork. You refused to give any input to his plans to rule the AEW roster. He retaliated where he wished. Your usual bright clothes “clashed” with his look. At first he let you wear muted colors, then chose completely black outfits for you to wear. Little by little, any control you had over your budding wrestling career was taken from you.

At ringside, there wasn’t much you could do, either. Spears had his back most of the time. And you were told to “stand there and look pretty” next to the time keeper’s table. It didn’t stop you from shouting your usual cutthroat opinions at MJF. The last one ended in a shouting match after he dismantled some poor competitor.

“I will break you, Y/N. You might as well accept it,” he’d said.

You never thought he’d go this far.

“Miss Y/N, you’re looking extra gloomy this evening.” His bright smile made you want to punch him.

“It’s easy to do when your forcing me to work for the least talented man on the roster.” A smile tugged at your lips when he glowered.

MJF smoothed his lapels. “So rude. And I even had a present to give you.”

“I don’t want it.”

His eyebrow arched. “Are you sure, sweetheart? I thought something inspired by Wardlow might bring a smile to your face.”

The thin, velvet rectangular box he pulled from his jacket was probably untrustworthy. He flicked it open, revealing a necklace crafted to look like a red ribbon with a small paw pendent inset with a green stone. At least it would be a pop of color. Gently, he pulled it out and circled you to put it on. Something heavy clicked behind your neck. The red band was too thick to be a ribbon. It sat it the middle of your throat like a choker. It was too tight. But when you reached back to adjust it, there wasn’t a clasp, but a lock.

MJF fiddle with a key between his fingers as he walked around to stand in front of you. “Good girl, standing there while I put your collar on.” After dropping the key in his pocket, he checked his smart watch.

You growled, “listen here, Max. I-” and then a small electric shock stopped your voice, making you gasp.

He held up his watch to show you the button on the screen. “I figured I might need something to help you behave tonight. Your friend Claudio’s teammate, Wheeler, has requested a title match and contract signing. Don’t worry, I already checked. You’re not mentioned on it.” MJF adjusted his cuff links, then reached for your neck. He grabbed the front of the low-cut top he picked for you to keep you in place. Simply so he could flick the charm. “And don’t even think about trying to get away. The range is good for up to five miles. Your job tonight is to use that sharp tongue of yours against Wheeler and the Blackpool Combat Club when prompted. Anything more, and we’ll have problems. Understood?”

You nodded, but removed MJF’s hand from your blouse.

“I want to hear you, sweet-cheeks. Say ‘I’ll behave, Max’ for me.”

Gritting your teeth, you forced out “I’ll behave-” but another zap stopped you.

“Oops. Sorry.” Max flicked the button on his screen from a red one to a blue one. “It has a setting against loud bitches. Anything above a whisper and I’ll know.” He smiled at you. “I’ll try to remember to turn it off when we get to the ring.” Turning on his heel, he called back. “Fifteen minutes till show-time.”

{*}

You did as he asked. No twists or way out this time. Not when he kept his fingers centimeters away from the screen on his wrist. Wheeler had been shocked to hear your sharp words. Even Claudio, who understood and enjoyed friendly competition, glared at you from time to time.

While MJF rambled on and the contract was passed around for signatures, you tried to make eye contact with Claudio. He ignored you. You kept your hands tightly gripped together on the table. If you reached for the collar, to adjust it or hint to Claudio of it’s use, you were afraid MJF would set it off. The only one who would meet your gaze was Mox. But your pleading eyes did nothing to even pause his angry fidgeting.

“In two weeks, I’m going to raise this championship above your head, Yuta.” MJF stood, holding the belt up high. “Regal, I hope you’ve trained your boy well. I’m looking for an actual challenge.” He threw the mic onto the table and held out his hand towards you. Your pause made him hiss at you. “Take. My. Hand.”

Shivering, you did. MJF squeezed it tight, as if to break your fingers. He led you around the table to leave. Passing Claudio, you mouthed, “help.” But with the speed MJF was going, you weren’t sure he saw it.

Backstage, he was instantly surrounded by Tony and a film crew. He made a show of checking his watch, then nodded to send you off. A few lonely steps later around the corner, you bumped into Wardlow.

“Y/N?”

With a gasp, you grabbed his arm. “You’ve got to get me outta here. Please.” Your whispers hopefully wouldn’t carry far enough for MJF to know something was up. You glanced over your shoulder to check. “I’m not going to make it two weeks, much less the last three months of his contract. He’s controlling me by-”

He sighed. “I’m trying. But according to everyone I’ve asked, the contract I signed is legal. As my valet, it sealed you in. They won’t let me fight him. And if I try to attack him like I did when he had a deathgrip on my contract, they’ll fire me.” He laid his hands on your shoulders. “Not that it did Max any good, but it wouldn’t free you.” Gently, he smoothed down your hair. “I’m doing my best. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too-”

“What could you be sorry about, Y/N?” MJF came around the corner.

You stepped back and pushed Wardlow away. MJF didn’t seem to care.

Wardlow’s lip curled towards a snarl. “She’s sorry she can’t work for me.” He made eye contact with you, holding the snarl as if to push you emotionally away. “As she said a second ago, I was the one who put her here.”

MJF slid a hand around your back to your hip, tugging you close. “That you did. Don’t worry. She’s in better hands.” He nuzzled his nose against your collar. Wardlow stormed past to the sound of MJF’s laughter and your silence.

{*}

Those two weeks passed by with MJF constantly jabbering on about how easy it was going to be to beat Wheeler. Even if the whole Combat Club could be ringside, which he was working on preventing. Your snide comments did nothing but zap you. It felt worth it. Until you poking holes in MJF’s plans made him adjust them to be fool-proof. After each zap, MJF would sit close to you to shush and hug you. He claimed all of this was training and for your better good.

The only time you didn’t have the collar on was when he had Spears teaching you how to interfere from ringside. Another aspect of your training he said Wardlow had neglected. You didn’t bother pointing out that Wardlow didn’t need interference to win a match. After Spears had run you ragged, he helped hold you in place, pinned against the apron, so MJF could put your collar back on.

By the time the pay-per-view arrived, you were a nervous wreck. You tried to remain strong, but every way out was blocked. You couldn’t even tell anyone. MJF was your constant companion. Whispering in your ear things to tear down your confidence. Ramping up the voltage to keep you completely silent when he had to leave you alone. When he trained or fought, he made sure Spears had the watch.

During the match, only Regal was allowed at ringside. You could be there, but Spears stayed in the back as part of the agreement. He fully expected you to help as needed. Spears was more than willing to punish you if you let an opportunity pass. Thankfully, one never came up. MJF used his own shortcomings to ensure his win. While Regal led a battered Wheeler out of the arena, Spears cheerily skipped down to the ring. He dragged you in behind him for MJF’s celebratory speech.

“Smile,” MJF ordered. He maintained eye contact with you as he accepted the control of the watch. The smile you managed wasn’t enough. “A real one.” He wasn’t satisfied until you dug deep for your retail smile.

But before he could address the crowd, the rest of the Blackpool Combat Club and Wardlow slid into the ring. Mox dragged Spears out one way, followed by Claudio. Wardlow tackled MJF, but a low blow reversed the power.

You risked calling out his name. One step towards them, and their scuffle activated your collar. Your scream cut short. It was more intense than anything MJF had hit you with before. Claudio came to your aid, but you are arching and writhing in pain, clawing at the collar. “The watch!” you rasped.

Hazily, you watched the two of them take MJF to the ground. Wardlow smashed the watch against the apron. When he got back to you, you were in a cold sweat and shivering with aftershocks. His fingers reached for the back clasp.

“Key. You need a key.”

Claudio was already on it. He had to practically throw Mox to one side to rummage through Spear’s pockets. But he found it. And soon, you were free.

Wardlow held you close while you shivered. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. You tried telling me, and I was wasn’t listening. If Britt Baker hadn’t seen MJF wrestling that thing on you...” He couldn’t finish.

“I’m sorry too.” Claudio sighed. “I promised to have your back. Then blocked you out when you were being forced to say those terrible things.”

“I don’t blame you. Either of you.” You wiped away your tears. “But what can I do? MJF still has control over me for another few months.”

“Not any more.” Wardlow directed your attention to the stage. “Baker raised hell when she found out what Max was doing to you. Khan tore up the contract. And now Max is going to pay for it.”

The man in question had just managed to crawl to the top of the ramp. He stopped in front of six pairs of boots. Britt Baker stood there, flanked by Kris Stratlander, Nyla Rose, Athena, Jade Cargill, and Anna Jay. Their differences were put aside. For you. MJF screamed the entire time they dragged him out of the ring.

Wardlow tilted your face up. “We would all completely understand if you want to leave. This is more than anything that should have happened to you.”

“Leave?” You accepted the help getting to your feet. “Nuh-uh. I’m just now getting the hang of it.” Weakly, you offered a real smile. “Besides, we’ve got to get your title back.”

Claudio snickered. “What if I wanted to try for it next?”

You shared a look with Wardlow. “Then I guess... let the games begin.”

((*))

Wrestling Masterlist

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