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#nothing here makes sense and i love all of it
beejunos · 1 day
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UNKNOWN TO ME AND YOU | Alastor x reader
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Summary: As Alastor's shadow starts to act strangely, hidden feelings are brought to light.
This wonderful story was written from @lustylita's wonderful idea! The story is completely theirs; I just had the pleasure of putting it into words. Their original post can be found here.
Tags: Alastor x gn.reader, hidden feelings, angst
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The last couple of weeks have been very strange to you. 
Well, stranger than the hotel usually was. 
Over the past few weeks, you have helped your best friend, Charlie, with her little passion project. The Hazbin Hotel - your only chance at redemption! 
While you couldn't say that you inherently believed in her dream, you would have been a poor friend if you hadn't tried to help her—emphasis on tried. Growing up within Hell's elite, where someone always handed you everything on gold platters, didn't foster any usable skills that could help run a severely understaffed hotel. The very thought of having to clean your own room had almost immobilised you.
Did you really need to vacuum the walls and the ceilings every week? How did the cleaning staff back at your parents' manor even do it? The manor was huge! 
Thankfully, you had not been forced to clean for long because shortly after Charlie had opened the hotel for business, an unwanted guest had come knocking at the door. Alastor and his somewhat reluctant companies, except for Niffty, who seemed to thrive in the chaos, quickly made themselves at home in the hotel. 
The same night they arrived, you and Vaggie had sat Charlie down in their room and begged the princess not to let the radio demon stay. After all, the tales of his deeds had even reached your family's manor in the Envy ring of Hell. But Charlie had been persistent, saying that maybe by staying in the hotel, she could change his ways. You loved your friend; you really did, but sometimes you wanted to shake some sense into her violently. 
There was nothing you could do about the radio demon and how he just took over many of the work duties you had at the hotel. Waltzing in as if he owned the hotel, he had taken one look at your work and deemed it unsatisfactory. 
"No, no, let me do it, doll!" he would say condescendingly, making rage lick up your spine, "We would want this to be done well for Charlie, now, wouldn't we?" 
You had lost count of all the times you fantasised about grabbing a chair and introducing it to his face. 
He made you feel incompetent, and worst of all, he was right. Most of the work you had done that he had redone was of better quality, more detailed, and better planned. If you had been a weaker demon, you would have given up, apologised to Charlie and gone home to your parents, but so, if the heavens would be your witnesses, you were going to crush that smug little bastard of a sinner! 
And so began your imaginary battle with Alastor about who could be the best executive producer. If you had asked Alastor, he would not have had any clues about what you were doing, only that it finally seemed like you were taking your job seriously. That said, he still did not like you. You were a spoiled little demon brat who had never worked a hard day in your life, and worst of all, you were sloppy with your work. 
But time kept ticking. The days passed, the hotel was filled with new residents, and somehow, you and Alastor were able to work together. Nevertheless, you only managed to do it by never being near each other, which worked wonderfully for you because the man could actually be quite okay when he was silent and on the other side of the room.  
You could have continued to live like this for as long as Alastor decided to live in the hotel. There was just this teeny tiny thing that perplexed you. 
Alastor's shadow liked to be around you. 
It had begun quite innocently with the shadow coming over to you one night when you were sitting in one of the armchairs by the fireplace with yesterday's newspaper in your lap since you had started to do the crossword puzzle on the back of the paper. You had been staring at the same clue for what felt like an hour, and you just couldn't figure it out. Out of nowhere, a shadowy finger had tapped on the clue to get your attention, and when you looked up, two empty holes for eyes had looked back at you with the biggest twisted grin full of teeth you had ever seen. 
"Fuck! Don't do that!" you whispered forcefully, not wanting to disturb the peace and quiet that finally had fallen over the hotel lobby. "What do you want?" 
Prepared to be bothered any second now by the radio demon, you got even more confused when the shadow started doing pantomimes. Why in the seven Hells was it swimming across the wall?
You looked on as the shadow began to swim back to you, tapped on the clue and started to swim again.
"Swimming? But it has nothing to do with activities! It is something about effort," you said as the shadow returned to you. Since it could not speak, the shadow just started to nod its head and tapped on the clue again. 
"Is it a word derived from the word swimming?" you asked hesitantly as the shadow continued to nod. 
You turned back to the clue before you—a word for no effort needed and swimming.
"Swimmingly?" you asked the shadow, who gave you an even bigger sinister smile and nodded again before it disappeared up the stairs. Again, you were left in the lobby with only the crackling fire as a company, looking over at the stairs after the strange entity that was Alastor's shadow.
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The next couple of weeks just grew more and more strange with every day. Out of nowhere, Alastor's shadow started to just interact with you. It began as innocent waves to you behind Alastors back, and at first, you wouldn't wave back, but when you saw how sad the shadow got if you didn't return its greeting, you started to wave back to it. On a few occasions, Alastor had caught you in the act, which quickly prompted you to swat the air around you as if you were trying to get rid of a fly.
When the waves weren't enough for the shadow, it started to appear around you, helping you in various ways. Once, it even helped you find some important paper you needed for your job that you were convinced Alastor had hidden from you. 
It turned out that Alastor's shadow was much more pleasant company than its physical part, and you often welcomed the shadow's help with your crosswords during the evenings.
However, you were again thrown for a loop when the shadowed behaviour started to change. It began to interact with you even more, seeking you out during the day and staying for long periods at a time, just hanging around you or observing what you were doing. 
One day, it had even brought you a blueberry muffin from the bakery you liked across town. You had no idea how it had even done that. For all you knew, shadows were not physical things and could not interact with the physical world. However, you were promptly proven wrong when Alastor's shadow took your own shadow's hand and pulled you down the hallway to show you the roses that had started to bloom outside of the hotel. 
It was a paradox, a mystery that intrigued you. Alastor's shadow, a creature of darkness, was surprisingly sweet, charming, and, at times, downright romantic. How could such a lovely thing be attached to such a vile being?
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It had been like any other day. Alastor's shadow had found you in your office early in the morning, going through all the paperwork that needed to get done that day. In its shadowy hand, it held one blueberry muffin and your favourite coffee mug with a sleepy bear on it, along with the text Bearly Awaken written underneath. 
The coffee had been divine because, somewhere, the shadow had learned to make a cup of coffee exactly how you wanted it.
You continued with your day in the presence of Alastor's shadow, walking together down the corridor, through the lobby, and out the front door as you chatted with the shadow. You had gotten quite good at interpreting its pantomimes and overexaggerated emotions and often found yourself laughing at any antics the shadow pulled. 
It followed you all day as you walked around the city, picking up the materials Charlie needed for her next exercise with the hotel residents. The shadow even helped you pick out the colours for the ribbons and paints. 
At one point, the shadow's long finger had brushed against yours. It had been a cold sensation, almost like being touched by mist, but that had not mattered to you as you blushed before looking away. Missing how the shadow practically folded in on itself when it saw your reaction. 
Was it possible to date a shadow and not the being it was attached to? 
The sun was setting when you and Alastor's shadow got back to the hotel. The lobby was almost empty except for Husk, who was polishing martini glasses by the bar. As soon as he saw the two of you enter the hotel, Husk leapt over the bar and rushed over to you. 
"I don't know where the fuck the two of you have been, but you need to leave now before he finds out that your back," Husk whispered to you as he gripped your arm to turn you around towards the door. 
"And you!" he said towards the shadow, "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"  
The shadow made a high-pitched whine as it stepped closer to you. You were about to ask Husk what he had meant when a loud voice boomed inside the hotel.
"Where are you?"
Husk's hand tightened around your arm as he started to pull you towards the door. You followed after him, paralysed by action, as a stone of fear got stuck in your throat. The shadow looked at you, then back at the stairs and then back at you again with anxious eyes. 
Loud steps could be heard from the hallway above the staircase, and Alastor's shadow began to be dragged towards the stairs as if by an invincible force. It desperately dug its claws into the ground, and the shadow let out a wailing scream as it looked at you with big, pleading eyes. 
Alastor was calling his shadow back to him. 
The shadow continued to fight the force of its master's call, leaving deep claw marks on the floor, and, as if a gunshot had been fired at the room, the force wholly let go of the shadow. The shadow rushed back to you, where it clung to your body like a second skin. 
"Get back here, you disgraceful thing!" Alastor could be heard shouting as a massive hand gripped the hallway doorframe and pulled itself forward. It was the hand of Alastor's most demonic form. 
Beside you, Husk had begun to shake as his claws dug into your skin.
"You need to run. Now!" he tried to push you towards the door, but it was too late. From around the corner, Alastor stepped from the dark into the light, but as he stepped forward, he shrank in size. Still, he looked terrifying. 
His eyes were a deep red with volume controllers as irises, hiding any emotions he may have had. His antlers had grown in size, sharp and imposing, making the sinner look almost regal as he sauntered down the stairs. 
"Thank you, Husker." he said, his voice dripping in venom, "I can take over now." 
Husk was about to protest loudly when he disappeared in a puff of red smoke, and you were left alone with the enraged sinner. 
"What do you think you are doing?" Alastor snarled as you started to shake where you were standing. A small whine could be heard beside your neck as the shadow clung closer to you.  
"I don't know..."
"I'm not talking to you!" Alastor's look silenced you but confused you for a second before you saw his eyes drop down to your neck, where the shadow hid. 
"Come back here and stop resisting," Alastor snarled again and stepped towards you. The shadow gave away a low whine as it clung closer to your body, and you realised it didn't want to return. In a fit of temporary insanity, you placed a protective hand over the arms of the shadow around you and stepped away from the sinner.
"No!"  
"What do you mean no? It's my shadow," asked Alastor as he looked back at you in confused rage.
"He doesn't want to be with you anymore," you snapped and turned your nose up. You stepped to the side to walk around the sinner, effectively walking away with his shadow, but as you walked past Alastor, his hand shot out, and he tried to grab your arm. But you were faster; with your other hand, you slept Alastors hand away from you and the shadow.
"Will you stop it! Don't you understand that we want nothing to do with you, so just leave us alone!" 
With determined steps, you started walking over to the staircase to get as far away from the deer demon as possible. However, you didn't get far until you felt the shadow clung even more to you as it let out a pitiful sob. Its head had fallen over your shoulder as it looked up at you with longing eyes—a gaze it shouldn't be giving you since you had just saved it from its cruel master.
"What's the matter?" you asked it as you tried to caress its cheek, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw something that you never thought you would see. 
Without a smile and ears hanging low against his head, Alastor looked at you with the same miserable longing that the shadow looked at you with. And that's when you remember something your mother used to say to you when you were a child, a long time ago. 
Our deepest desires, our most precious wishes and longings, hide in our shadows. Everything we want follows us within our shadows as the weights of our souls.  
You wanted to kick yourself for being so foolish, for not understanding until now. Maybe a small part of you had always known, but it had been easy to ignore in your imaginary rivalry with the sinner. But a shadow never lies. Even the ones who can think and act on their own. They will always mirror their owner's heart's wishes and act upon them when the host won't take charge of getting what they desire. 
"You're in love with me," you whispered. It was not a question but a statement—a statement that seemed to hang in the air for an eternity but not long enough. 
“How? What? When?” you asked, desperate for answers.
Alastor walked hesitantly towards you, looked you deep into your eyes and did something you never thought he would do. He kissed your cheek. 
Your breath hitched in your throat as his warm lips softly touched your cheek, and when he pulled away, you could still feel their presence against your skin. As if you were branded by their sweet touch. 
"Come now," was the last thing he said to his shadow as he walked around you and back up the stairs. Alastor's shadow made a melancholic chirping noise before it let go of you and followed its master.
You were left alone in the big hotel lobby. Wishing that it was your lips Alastor had kissed and not your cheek.
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I really hope it lived up to the expectations, but I loved writing it! It got a lot more angsty than I first intended...
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frenchkisstheabyss · 2 days
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♥︎ The Way I Am ♥︎
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♥︎ Pairing ♥︎ fiance!seonghwa x gn!makeup artist!reader
♥︎ Genre ♥︎ fluff/angst
♥︎ Summary ♥︎ Your fiance's been successfully keeping his love of makeup hidden from you. That is until you come home early from a trip and find him using your things. Your reaction is (of course ♥︎) the exact opposite of what he feared.
♥︎ Word Count ♥︎ 1.6kish
♥︎ Warnings ♥︎ Hwa does express his worries about being vulnerable with his identity so if that's sensitive to you that's super important to note. Other than that, nothing. Just fluff and reassurance ♥︎
♥︎ A/N ♥︎ I hope that if you're reading this and you feel nervous about expressing your gender identity out of fear that people won't accept you, you know that you're totally worthy of love and acceptance no matter what. Love you ♥︎
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"'Cause I love you more than I could ever promise and you take me the way I am" - Ingrid Michaelson (The Way I Am)
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Seonghwa hopes that you don’t notice. A few drops of foundation here. A swipe or two of eyeliner there. Maybe some lipstick or blush if he’s feeling adventurous. He wishes he had the courage to ask you to do this for him. You’re the most talented makeup artist he’s ever met. Watching you work is like art. How wonderful it’d be to bare the most vulnerable part of himself to you. To be your lover and your canvas. But every time he tries to open up the fear creeps in and the words won’t come out.
So this is the way it is—the way it’ll always have to be. Your wedding’s less than a month away and the thought that he might lose you makes his soul ache. He can’t risk losing you. He won’t risk losing you. 
Tonight he’s raided your makeup supplies for everything necessary to create the soft, romantic look of his dreams. With the warm air of a summer night blowing through the bedroom window and Spotify’s best Taylor Swift mix blasting in his over-ear headphones, the vibe couldn't be more perfect.
He’s been like this for at least an hour, seated at your vanity trying to get his foundation to match. You have every shade imaginable but none are what he wants. And mixing them? Well—
“Fuck” Seonghwa huffs, staring at his reflection, frustration and two pale layers of foundation painted all over his face. He scans the meticulously organized desk for the makeup wipes and gets to work cleaning it off. It takes everything in him not to throw something but he manages to suppress his violent urges long enough to pick up a brush again.
Thank god he has all night to do this. You won’t be home from your trip until tomorrow afternoon. By then he’ll have put everything back in its place and you’ll never know a thing. At least that’s the way things were meant to go but the unexpected glimmer of your reflection lingering by the bedroom door destroys that in an instant.
You thought it’d be sweet to surprise Seonghwa by coming home early. The event you were hired for had been canceled and you always missed each other so much. You figured it only made sense to come back home. You even stopped at his favorite takeout spot on the way from the airport to pick up dinner.
No one’s ever come close to treating you with as much love and care as Seonghwa has. Everything he does makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside. Just glancing down at the sparkly ring on your finger is enough to make your face light up. Any chance you have to make him feel the same way isn’t one you’re willing to pass up.
But, for the first time since you met, his face doesn’t light up at the sight of you. It darkens as if the world has ended and you can’t help but feel like you’re the one who ended it. 
“Hwa—” you sigh softly, approaching the vanity where he sits nearly catatonic. Tears collect in the corner of his deep brown eyes, his fingers beginning to shake around the makeup brush. “It’s okay” you promise, gently resting a hand on his shoulder. Seonghwa pulls away from you, tearing the headphones off of his head. His dark hair hangs in his face giving him a safe place to hide from the disappointment he knows is waiting for him if he dares meet your gaze.
Only there isn’t any...
This isn’t what you expected to come home to but it’s far from a surprise for you. One of the things you always loved about Seonghwa was how comfortable he seemed to be in his own skin. While other guys saw every little thing as a threat to their masculinity, he treated femininity as something beautiful. You can’t even count the amount of times you’ve wanted to do his makeup. Those eyes. Those lips. That killer bone structure. He’s perfect for that kind of thing. You wish now more than ever that you’d said something.
“I’m really sorry. I didn’t—I’m just—I’m so sorry” he mumbles, choking back tears. You outstretch your arms to wrap him in a hug but he slips away again, rushing to the closet to grab his gym bag. “Hwa, what are you doing? Can you stop for a second? Please?” you beg, following him around the room as he blindly tosses things into the bag.
You’ve never felt more invisible. Your words fall on deaf ears and each time you reach out to touch him he recoils. Seonghwa grabs his phone from the dresser, snatching free of the grip you have on the sleeve of his shirt. This is his worst nightmare. In the blink of an eye he lost everything, he’s convinced of that. He doesn’t know what to say or what to do. All he can think to do is run. 
“You can’t do this!” you shout, trailing him down the hallway, “You have to talk to me!”
Seonghwa breathes in, beyond pissed off at the few tears that manage to escape. “I have to leave. I have to—to protect you.”
Hearing the pain in his voice, you nearly trip on your luggage to throw yourself in front of the door. “Is it to protect me? Or to protect yourself?”
That stops him in his tracks, his foot already halfway into a pair of sneakers. Who’s he running away for really? It’s a question that only makes the pounding in his head worse. He knows that you love him. You tell him every morning, even when you’re apart, how special he is to you. You’re begging him to stay but he can’t. He can’t. Why can’t he?
“Move please” he asks, his hand tight around the doorknob. 
You fold your arms across your chest, back pressed to the door, “No.” 
“Move…please” his voice is deeper this time, the request sounding more like a demand. 
Slipping your hands beneath the curtain of jade hair, you rest them on cheeks that burn hot enough to heat your palms. Your fingers are stained with tears and what makeup remains on his cheeks. “I love you so much” you whisper, refusing to let him get away this time, “I need you to look at me.”
You hold your breath in the silence that follows, exhaling only when his mascara smeared eyes meet yours. “I. Love. You. So. Much” you say but slower this time, putting emphasis on every word. Your heart breaks for him, for how terrified you can tell he’s been of this happening.
You raise one of your hands to show him the makeup covering it. “I don’t care about this, Hwa. I care about you.” The faint smile on your face speaks of comfort, a truly safe place for him to be if he wants it. His hand falls away from the doorknob as he lets the gym bag hit the floor with a thud.
“I would’ve told you before but I…” he pauses to summon the courage to go on, “I was afraid you wouldn’t want me anymore.” You let out a sigh of relief at the sensation of his arms easing around your waist. He holds you so tightly that you’d swear you were the one trying to run away. 
“Oh, my love. I wish you could meet yourself so you’d know how amazing you are” you sniffle, only now noticing the trickling of your own tears. “I want to be with you—all of you—whatever that looks like.”
Seonghwa uses his hands to wipe away your tears, leaving them tinted in the light makeup you threw on before your flight. “And see, we’re twins now” you giggle, desperate to lighten the mood. Seonghwa stares at you longingly, the light gradually reigniting behind his eyes. “I love you too” he smiles, his lips brushing yours, “So much.”
He kisses you in the most innocent way and it’s like your first kiss all over again. Packed with nerves and excitement that melt away the longer you linger here. It’ll take some time to fade—the fear of being vulnerable—but it will fade and you’ll be there for it all. 
“Will you help me fix it?” he asks, nervously fidgeting with the waist of your paints, “You don’t have to but I have a picture on my phone and—” You cover his mouth with your hand before he can say anything more, “Of course I’ll help you. Shower first though?” Seonghwa suddenly becomes hyper aware of the slight mess on his hands—in his hair—on both of your clothes. “I’d really like that.” 
Kissing him on the forehead, you push his hair back to get a good look at him, “We’re doing dreamy summer vibes? Something soft?” 
“How’d you know that?”
“I don’t know” you shrug, “Maybe I’m just that good. You were also going super hard on the Taylor Swift so I kinda assumed. Just blasting. I didn’t know it was that real for you.” 
“Shut up” he laughs, squeezing you so tight you can’t breathe. 
“Okay, okay. I’m sorry!” you giggle, trying to get away. But he won’t let you. Instead he lays his head on your shoulder, willing to tolerate being a total mess for a bit longer if it means holding you. The way that things have been...it doesn’t have to be like that now.
And it never will be again.
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yuwuta · 2 days
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hi 👋 bsf upstaging bf with choso???
ok i’ve gotten asks for pretty much every other jjk boy on this subject and i want to say something as an overarching theme: all of them ain’t shit. not a single one of them. there’s a scale, some (gojo) are worse than others, but in general, none of them really give a fuck, if that means upstaging, sabotaging, or straight up kicking your boyfriend to the curb so that they can be your boyfriend instead then so be it. but they’re not shit, NONE OF THEM!! but there is a hierarchy and different methods of execution and all that, so here’s where they stand 
president and ceo of not being shit: satoru gojo
why would satoru care about your boyfriend? in any and all universes, he is raised in a world where consequences mean nothing to him. so what if he’s a little rude to this guy? so what if he buys you a ridiculously expensive birthday gift that might be seen as romantic? so what if he offers to take you on a vacation that happens to overlap with your boyfriend’s birthday? the worst that will happen to satoru is nothing; the world bends to his whims, never the other way around.
it’s a combination of complete self-confidence + trust in you + getting joy out of bothering people that earns him this number one spot. he’s confident in every sense of the word, so he doesn’t see your boyfriend as a threat. even if satoru didn’t love you romantically, he wouldn’t see a boyfriend as a threat to your friendship either, because he has no doubts in himself—and to the second point, he doesn’t have any in you either: you’ve proven your loyalty to satoru, proven that even when he pisses you off, you still love him, even when you’re dating somebody else, you still make time for him, even when he’s being shitty and stubborn, you don’t kick him to the curb, you just pinch his ear and bring him back down to earth. he’s always chosen you, but you’ve always chosen him, too, so again, what’s to fear when a boyfriend is added to the equation? nothing, because satoru knows this guy can’t earn or replace the loyalty you’ve given him. 
and to top it all off, he likes watching your bf grind his teeth. he likes watching this guy have to hold his breath, because what can he say without sounding like an ass—he won’t ask you to tell satoru to fuck off because he hasn’t done anything wrong. treating your best friend to fancy dinners and exotic getaways and designer clothes is just nice when you have money—your bf would be pretty shitty to deny you that. and he’d sound insecure, too. and satoru knows your bf doesn’t have the balls to confront him, and even if he did he’d lose. it’d be embarrassing. so, satoru wins. he always wins. satoru engages in psychological warfare, and he has the physical strength, social power, and financial security to back it up, so he, literally, can never lose. and, sure, having your bf around is annoying, but it’s so much fun to watch other people lose that he lets the guy stick around for a while. you’ll get tired of him and run back to satoru eventually, and he’ll confess this time… hopefully.
vice president: kento nanami
if you expected kento to be lower on this list, think again, because he is just as bad. he’s only second place because he’s not as overt, nor does he wish to actually taunt your boyfriend like satoru would. for kento, you’re just his number one priority. you always have been, ever since you came into his life; it was confusing at first, for him to care so much about you beyond an objective sense of responsibility, but overtime he came to realize that he way he wants to take care of you is different. he doesn’t just want to ensure your comfort and safety physically, he wants to make sure you’re taken care of emotionally, he wants to bear your burdens for you, not just help you through them.
kento is a good friend, a trusted confidant, a reliable person overall, and over the years, he’s inadvertently raised your standards. casual situationships and relationships where you’re not the priority become unappealing when you’ve had someone by your side for so long who’s treated you better than that. if your best friend can buy you flowers, and make reservations at new restaurants, and drive an hour to pick you up in the rain, and cook for you when you’re feeling sick, then why would you tolerate anything less in a romantic partner? these things are the bare minimum to kento, but most other men fall far below average; it’s hard for them to compete where they cannot compare. 
so when you do accept a partner, kento is skeptical at best. he knows that what he does for the people in his life isn’t necessarily special, but he doubts that your boyfriend is capable of doing even that—and even if he does meet the standards, he’ll be outclassed anyway. because kento is a good person, but he’ gotten really good at how to be good to you. your boyfriend might get you flowers, but kento already knows your favorites. your boyfriend might send chocolates, but he doesn’t know which ones you’re allergic to, and the brand you prefer; kento does, which is why the ones he bought for you are gone within the week, and the generic box sent over by your boyfriend was re-gifted to satoru. when you voice your doubts about a date your boyfriend mentioned wanting to plan, kento feigns interest, and then innocence when he asks if you’re busy a few days later, if you’d like to help him bake something instead—something he knows you’d much rather do. the short version is—kento knows you, and he uses it to his advantage. he uses the knowledge gained during your friendship to outclass anybody in your dating pool, and he does it so smoothly that it hardly seems intentional or harmful, but it is. which is why he’s just as bad, if not worse, than satoru. 
treasurer: megumi fushiguro 
there’s actually no au in which megumi isn’t shit because no matter how you square it, he gets it from his daddy. whether he’s raised by just satoru, just toji, or some au where he has them both in his life—the common denominator is that they’re there. if megumi ever did confide in either of them about hating your boyfriend, both satoru and toji would offer the same advice: “can’t you just get rid of him? what’s he got on you?” which is absolutely not how you should parent a child...
megumi might have his doubts about his personality, but he’s never been insecure about his appearance. it’s hard to be when he looks like that, but also when he’s had either toji or satoru (or god forbid, both) in his ear his entire life. he might have some fucked up attachment issues and skepticisms about the general population, but he has a very secure view of himself. so, to start, he’s not impressed by your boyfriend, and is honestly a little offended that you think this guy is objectively more attractive, or that you’re more romantically/sexually attracted to him that you are to megumi—or even, any of your other friends. he’d rather you start dating nobara or yuuji, at least he could live with that because those are pretty people, but your choice in boyfriends… he’s not trying to be mean but you could do better. you’ve done better. 
secondly, megumi…. doesn’t care about him. at all. he’s not like satoru in that it brings him happiness to tease your boyfriend, he’s not like kento in that he skews your standards in his favor to nudge your boyfriend out of the picture; megumi literally does not care if this guy lives or dies. your boyfriend could drop dead and megumi would be like damn… that’s crazy… and move on with his life. which is a wild view to have of your best friend’s partner; and it also drives said partner to madness because why the fuck won’t your childhood friend acknowledge his existence?? but again, megumi doesn’t care that his apathy towards your boyfriend bothers him—megumi doesn’t see him, doesn’t know him, doesn’t care to know him, and it drives a wedge in your relationship. 
thirdly, megumi is, canonically, a bully to people he doesn’t like. if your boyfriend gets angered enough to the point of confronting megumi, or whining to you, then it’s inconsequential to megumi to hurt him, and he won’t hold back. also on the reverse side, if there was a situation in which your boyfriend was getting hurt or needed help, then megumi is not helping. he’d probably just watch, or join in. 
after a while, megumi grows past apathy into exhaustion. he thinks you should do better, he thinks you should know better, he thinks he’s better. and he is. he’ll show you that. (also, he is most likely to try to seduce you into infidelity because he doesn’t care about your boyfriend, so you’re single to him). 
first secretary of not giving a fuck: yuuji itadori 
jealousy is something that yuuji used to feel guilty about, guilty enough to drive him to confiding in satoru/nanami about his feelings and seeking advice for how to deal with it, because he thought being jealous meant that he was being a bad friend to you. but neither of his mentors are shit, so yuuji learns to adopt the age old mantra: all is far in love and war. 
he’s better than satoru in the sense that he doesn’t antagonize your boyfriend, he’s better than kento in the sense that he doesn’t outwardly outclass your boyfriend’s efforts, he’s better than megumi in the sense that he does care about people outside of his immediate circle of friends, and as long as your boyfriend is a human, then yuuji will care about his life; but in all other senses, yuuji is surprisingly neutral, and in some cases, actually worse. 
yuuji has two things to his advantage that he absolutely abuses: his likability, and his strength. when it comes to likability, he can just play the friendly, nice guy card. wrapping his arm around your shoulder, twirling you around in a hug, pinching your cheeks, playing with your hair, laying on your lap—he’s just yuuji, he’s just being friendly, he’s just being nice. it’d be pretty shitty of your boyfriend to tell him to be meaner to you, no? ^.^ yuuji is also sneaky with this in that he uses it to say otherwise mean things under the guise of a friendly disguise, and people rarely think otherwise of it. (“it’s fine if you go to the club with us if your bf doesn’t want you to. it’s not like you’re gonna marry him” “are those boxes giving you trouble, man? not surprising, haha!” “you guys didn’t break up yet? aw... i mean... well, no i meant that, but come on, let’s take shots!” all said with a smile that looks like this 😇😇 on his face)
in terms of strength, it’s an unbeatable challenge for your boyfriend—because even if he gets pissed off at yuuji being too close to you, too affectionate with you, too sweet to you, what’s he gonna do? because he certainly can’t beat yuuji in a fight—he couldn’t even beat yuuji in a race, he couldn’t even beat yuuji at mario kart, so there’s nothing for your boyfriend to do but shutup and wallow.  
second secretary: yuuta okkotsu
does he need an explanation… does mr. “how rude, this is pure love” need an explanation… does mr. “i will kill itadori yuuji myself” need an explanation… does mr. “i won’t let sensei kill his best friend again, [i’ll do it myself]” need an explanation… hasn’t he already proved himself as the single most loyal and contently insane person on the planet… 
once you have yuuta’s loyalty, you have it forever. not even for life, because he’d find a way to transcend space and time to protect you in the next one. even if, for some reason, you didn’t want it anymore, you have it; yuuta’s love is final sale, no exchanges or returns. the only reason he’s not ranked to be worse than megumi or yuuji is because yuuta has one grave disadvantage: he is not normally confrontational, and is the definition of anxious LOL. he’d feel bad if he didn’t make an effort to get to know your boyfriend, but that doesn’t mean he has to like him...
yuuta might know that he has feelings for you, but he’s honestly content with a platonic relationship if that’s how you choose to express it towards him. if you want to be friends, then he’s your friend; your love is that pure and vital to him, that he takes it in whatever form he gets it. he’s desperate for you in a way that has him completely at your whim; he doesn’t need reciprocity to love you, just knowing you, and knowing you accept his love is more than enough. keeping him around as friend, keeping him in your life, keeping him in your mind—that’s all yuuta could truly ever want. so, even when you have a boyfriend, it stings a bit at first, but as long as you still have the same amount of room in your life for yuuta, then he won’t do any harm to this guy. 
unless: (a) your boyfriend makes it difficult for yuuta to have access to you, (b) your boyfriend outrightly ticks yuuta off, or (c) the worst option, your boyfriend does something to hurt you or make you sad, then he’s off yuuta’s radar completely. he won’t confront, and he won’t intervene. but if any of those conditions are not met, even for a second, then your boyfriend is as good as gone and there’s little anyone, yourself included, can do to stop him. 
honorable board members: choso kamo, toji fushiguro, toge inumaki
everything about choso is on sight. it takes one wrong move, the slightest misstep, even a breath out of place and he will end your relationship and your boyfriend’s life if he has to. choso does not play when it comes to the people he loves, he won’t stand for you being hurt or mistreated in any way. there’s no subtle psychological warfare, there’s no shovel talk, there’s no blame game: choso sees something wrong, and he takes it upon himself to correct it. your partners have one chance to treat you right, or they’ll wish they hadn’t met choso to begin with.
toji doesn’t really chase people, but you have always been the exception. he hates to admit it, but he’ll follow you anywhere you go, not caring for whoever else you decide to bring along. if the journey of your life is a car ride, toji always calls shotgun, and he doesn’t really care who else gets in the backseat, until they ask him to get out of his—then there’s a problem. and he’s never once felt bad about turning some guy into a hitchhiker. 
the greater good should be thankful that toge takes a voluntary vow of silence, because if he said even half of the things that were on his mind, the world might, quite literally, be set on fire. toge doesn’t care—not like megumi, him not caring isn’t apathy towards the life or death of other people, he just doesn’t care what reaction his actions pull out of people. you’ve told him it’s annoying when he pinches your cheeks and steals your boba, but that won’t stop him from doing it, esp not when you look so cute when you’re angry. yeah, he knows people get annoyed by his pranks, but that’s whatever. he knows your boyfriend hates when toge’s around you, but he doesn’t care. if it brings toge joy, he’ll do it. honestly, even if it doesn’t bring him joy, he’ll do it because he wants to. he’s not immune to consequences like satoru, he simply doesn’t care about them! he’ll just deal with it, he’s got a high tolerance for it—your boyfriend, however, seems like a weakling, so toge will simply outlast him. he’s outlasted all the others :) 
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ecliphttlunar · 2 days
Text
Medicine - Chris Sturniolo
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Summary: You were having a difficult day where negative thoughts shook you, but luckily your boyfriend Chris is always there to save you
Warnings: cute, hugs, kisses, negative thoughts, a little angst
Author's notes: This is my work, I do not authorize any plagiarism, copying or “inspiration”. English is not my first language, so I'm sorry if there are any grammatical errors.
。☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆。
You were sad, so sad, at that moment, your life didn't seem to make sense.
You felt ugly, incapable, inappropriate, God! You were feeling every negative feeling there was, even non-existent ones.
And there weren't enough words that could describe what you were feeling.
You traveled all over the world, collected lyrics, but nothing, nothing could describe this feeling that took over your heart.
And so you asked yourself, how could you talk to someone about this?
Talking to others about your feelings was never really a problem, at least not with your closest friends.
But now? You were a child who was left on a road in the middle of the night.
Lost.
Alone.
In the dark.
At least that's what you thought while cooking dinner at the triplets' house.
You thought that no one could understand what you were feeling, not when you couldn't form words, so why waste other people's time, why be inconvenient by saying that you didn't feel well, when no one could understand you, help you.
When you didn't even understand what you were feeling?
You were so focused on your thoughts that you didn't notice Chris's gaze on you.
Chris knew something was wrong the moment you appeared in the room, your shoulders slumped, your eyes heavy, your smile weak, dejected.
You always had big smiles that brighten any darkness, but now? His smile was wan, a smile that tried to hide his tears.
He didn't know what had happened, if someone hurt you, if they said something that hurt you, if you were in physical pain or not.
But he knew, he was sure, that everything wasn't okay.
Then, he got up from the couch, the place he had been sitting staring at you for the last 10 minutes, and walked towards you.
You were always alert to your surroundings, no matter the situation, you always noticed when something had happened to someone, or when a person approached, so when he approached you, and you didn't notice, as if someone had blindfolded you , he worried.
He was behind you, when he wrapped his arms around you, you were a little startled by the sudden contact, jumping slightly, and looking back.
It was just Chris.
You let out a sigh of relief.
"Don't do that anymore, you scared me" You said softly, when you went back to mixing the food in the pan.
"Everything is fine?" He ignored what you said, needing to know what was happening as quickly as possible.
"Why the question?" You ask back.
You always did this, when you didn't want to answer something, you asked the person a question as an answer.
"You don't look like you're on planet Earth today"
"No? Where do I look like I am? In fact, if I weren't on earth, how would you be hugging me now?"
“No, not like that, you’re here, but at the same time, you’re not here” you raise an eyebrow.
“Your body is here, your mind is not” You go back to mixing dinner, taking a deep breath.
"It's okay, I'm just tired" You weren't lying, you really were tired, but one of the main reasons for those words was because you really wanted to close this subject, you know that tomorrow you would wake up better.
But of course, Chris didn't accept that. He knew there was something more, and he wanted to find out what it was.
He was always like that, he was always there for you, even when you didn't want anyone, you just wanted to be alone.
And that was why you loved him so much.
Because he was your guardian angel, your bulletproof vest when everything got dangerous, he stayed in front of you when you were in the crosshairs.
He was there to heal all your scars.
And you knew he could save you now, when you are in the crosshairs of negativity.
His body leaned over yours a little, taking the spoon out of your hand and throwing it into the sink.
You tried to take the spoon back, making the excuse that the food wasn't ready and you needed to stir it more.
But Chris was watching you, he knew that you had turned off the stove for more than 5 minutes.
He turned his body to face him, and hugged his waist.
"Talk to me, what's going on?" He asked again.
But what he received in response was silence, and his eyes were watery.
"Honey..." He began, a speech already planned in his mind to make you speak, at least the basics, so he would know what happened, but this moving speech was not necessary, because right after he called you, the words ran out of his mouth like a river.
And now, you were a mess.
A beautiful mess in Chris's eyes, even with your tear stained face, messy hair, wrinkled clothes, you looked beautiful.
The gods knew how beautiful you looked.
"I don't know, I woke up like this, I'm just sad, nothing really happened, I just... I feel ugly, inappropriate, annoying, I don't know, I, I don't know, I can't explain it." You tried, you really tried, but you couldn't, gods, you didn't even know who you were at that moment.
You didn't know what were happening.
"Hey, hey, it's okay, pretty girl, it's okay, you don't need to say anything else, I already understand, I got you, I'm here with you." He cupped your face and dried your tears, placing a lingering kiss on your forehead. Trying to calm you down.
Which, even though it took a while, worked.
You let out a shaky breath. And when you look up, back at him, you realize he was thinking of a solution.
"What do you think about us lying down, cuddling on the couch, watching a movie, we don't need to say anything, just cuddle, do you want that?"
You smile lightly and nod, hugging Chris's waist, and hiding your face in his chest.
You stayed like that for a while, when you finally started moving to the couch, you on top of Chris, while you chose a movie.
It had been about 10 minutes into the movie, and you were already feeling better, but there was still something bothering you.
And of course, Chris noticed, so he did what he knew would help, what always helps, he kissed you.
He gently grabbed your chin and kissed your lips, making all that pain you were feeling go away.
Making you feel better than you ever have.
He could do this.
He was your medicine.
You separate, and look at each other, you smile in thanks, and lay your head back on his chest.
For the first time that day, feeling good.
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nahoney22 · 1 day
Note
Hi!! Congratulations on 4,500 followers, you deserve it and SO MUCH MORE!! If you’re interested and comfortable of course, can I request from the fluff prompts “I like your eyes” and from the NFSW prompts “I wanna make love to you” and “you can be a little rougher” with Echo please? I love him and I’m so happy he made an appearance today, he deserves the sweetest and sensual things, thank you!!♥️✨
Moonlight***
🫧 Pairing: Echo X Gender Neutral Reader
word count: 1.6k
prompts:
“I like your eyes.”
“I want to make love to you.”
“You can be a little rougher.”
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Summary: The flirtatious gazes and gestures finally leads to something more; but why is Echo holding back?
Warnings: NSFW, 18+ Only, Explicit Sexual Content and Language, Sex, Multiple Positions, Nervous Echo, Reassuring Reader, Dirty Talk, Praising, Light Hair Pulling, Light Rough Sex, Aftercare, Creampie, Cuddling, Kissing, Mutual Pining, Spoiler Free. NSFW under the cut.
Authors note: Cheeky asking for 3 prompts when I said you’re only allowed 2… buuuuut I’m feeling generous 😌🩶 and you didn’t specify pronouns so I defaulted to GN so I hope that’s okay?🩶
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He stands before you, his breath dancing with yours as you both find refuge in a secluded corner, shielded from the prying eyes of the others. "You look so good tonight," Echo murmurs softly, his hand gently resting on your waist, pulling you closer. "It almost feels a shame to undress you."
A flush rises to your cheeks at his compliment, and you bite your lip, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. "Perhaps... but I sense this is something you've desired for quite some time, Sir," you whisper huskily, before claiming his lips with your own, feeling a rush of excitement as he presses you against the wall.
After the consistent exchange of flirtatious glances and the occasional suggestive remarks after months, the tension between you and Echo finally reached its boiling point. Unable to resist any longer, you whispered in his ear for him to follow you after the batch decided to have celebratory drinks at a rather upscale bar.
As you both slipped away, your hands couldn’t stay off each other. "I got us a room… do you want to do this?" you asked, your words muffled by the heat of his breath against your lips, followed by a gasp as he trailed kisses from your jaw down to your neck.
"Absolutely," he replied, his smirk obvious against your exposed skin, sending shivers down your spine. "Just lead the way."
Taking his hand and ensuring the others didn't see (not that it was any of their business anyway), you led him up to the room, a mixture of excitement and a touch of anxiety coursing through you as you entered. You were both really doing this.
When the door hissed closed behind you both, you looked at each other, the realization that you were finally alone together hitting you.
Silently, he unclipped all of his armor pieces and set them aside, you doing the same with your gear, but also slipping off your shirt. Echo gazed at you, nothing but awe in his eyes.
You chuckled at his reaction and pointed to your face. "My eyes are up here, handsome."
"Well, that’s good to know because…” he smirked as he approached, a soft hand cupping your cheek as his scomp rested on your hip, “…I like your eyes."
He pulls you closer, both consumed by another fiery kiss until you tumble onto the bed with him falling on top of you, his hand exploring your chest, touching you in all the places you've fantasized about.
Shedding the remainder of your clothes and Echo's, he sits between your legs, admiring you for a moment. "I feel so lucky right now."
"As do I," you grin, your lips swollen and eyes filled with desire as you take in his form. However, when you briefly glance at his cybernetics, you notice him shift uncomfortably. He doesn't say anything, instead chuckling and focusing on his hand's work. Slipping between your legs, you gasp his name as he expertly caresses your sex with precision and tenderness.
"Mmm, do you like that, darling?" he whispers in your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. "Do you enjoy it when I touch you there?"
"Y-yes, oh yes, Echo," you moan, your skin ablaze with desire as he swiftly brings you to climax, his words of praise and encouragement sending you soaring to cloud nine.
Your gaze drifts to his throbbing cock beside you, and you smirk as you reach out, taking it in your hand. His reaction is immediate—a gasp followed by a deep groan. "Such a beautiful cock," you purr, stroking along its length as his movements between your legs intensify.
Desiring to maintain eye contact as you pleasure him, you do struggle to keep your gaze fixed on him. Your eyelids grow heavy as the impending orgasm coils tightly within your core, causing your back to arch in response to his touch. He's biting his lip, gasping, his breaths deep and heavy as his hips grind into your soft palm.
"I want to make love to you," he breathes, and you eagerly comply with his request, releasing his cock and pulling his lips back down to yours, his member pressing against your stomach as his tongue eagerly explores your mouth.
"Then love me, Echo," you pant, your voice filled with longing. "Love me."
He groans in response, taking hold of his cock as he positions himself at your entrance, teasing you with the gentle rub of his tip.
He locks eyes with you as he slowly sheathes into you, filling you gloriously. "Fuck, yes—just… just like that," you moan, sitting up on your elbows, watching as his tip disappears inside you.
As you lay back on the bed, Echo places his hand on your thigh, spreading your legs an inch wider as he begins to rut inside you, his movements slow and tender. "This is all for you, darling… all for you," he whispers.
Your eyes flutter closed, savouring the sensation of his stiff cock pushing slow and deep inside you, your body tightening around his girth. But you crave more. You want him to love you passionately, yet at this moment, he's being too delicate.
"Faster, Echo, fuck me faster, baby," you moan, feeling him pick up the pace. But as you open your eyes, you see him deep in concentration.
"You can be a little rougher," you suggest, prompting him to still his movements, his cock remaining warm inside you.
Raising a brow at his concern, you reassure him, "You won't hurt me. I trust you. You can fuck me however you want."
His eyes flash with understanding, and suddenly, both of your legs are draped over one of his shoulders as he bends you almost in half, before he starts slamming down into you with increasing force, eliciting moans that scratch at your throat as he becomes more demanding.
Your hands grip at his shoulders, gasping as pleasure floods your senses, the sounds of his balls slapping against your skin reverberating around the room. "Is this rough enough for you, darling? Do you like it nice and hard?" he taunts, delivering a complete switch-up, bordering on rough yet remaining aware that he will be gentle if you ask him to be.
"Yes! Stars, yes!" you cry out in ecstasy, your legs aching from the intense position, but the pleasure is undeniably worth it.
"So perfect, feel so good around my cock. Can’t believe I waited so long to fuck you," he murmurs, his hand gripping your thigh tightly, his scomp ensuring your legs stay positioned over his shoulders. After another minute of him fucking you so good, he releases you, panting before flipping you onto your stomach.
Your face is buried in the duvet, hands gripping tight as he positions himself at your entrance again before sliding in. "O-oh, Echo!"
"That’s it, my beauty," he whispers, leaning over you to kiss between your shoulder blades. "Is this okay?"
It's more than okay. He's more than okay.
"Yes, don’t stop—don’t stop until you cum inside me, Echo," you beg, earning a sensual chuckle in return as he thrusts into you, his scomp resting on the base of your back and the other tangling in your hair, tassels of hair scrunching between his fingers as he delivers back shots like you’ve never experienced before.
With a steady pace and sharp, precise thrusts, your eyes sting from the intensity of him stretching you open and lightly tugging at your hair. "M-More."
He shifts from being on both knees to kneeling on just one, finding a better rhythm as he continues to plow into you, releasing your hair and placing his hand on your shoulder, pulling you back into him so you can meet his thrusts as he pounds you into the bed.
Stars blur your vision once again, your moans muffled by the duvet as he takes you from behind. You can feel your orgasm building again, and by his ragged breaths, you know he is too.
You're moved again, this time onto your side as he slides in behind you, keeping your leg raised in the air as his arms wrap around you, sliding into your slick hole effortlessly. Your gazes lock as he cups your jaw with his hand. "Are you close, darling? I'm—fuck—I'm not going to last much longer."
You nod feverishly, biting your lip as sweat glistens on your body. "Yes, yes, yes, please cum in me, Echo. I need you."
"I've got you," he murmurs, leaning in to tenderly kiss you, his thrusts becoming labored. "I love you so much."
Your arousal peaks at his words, and you whimper your reply into his mouth as you feel his seed fill you up and drain out of you. "I love you too, Echo."
Panting, you reach your climax, your body trembling, but he holds you close, murmuring softly in your ear. "That's it... you did so well." He kisses the side of your head as he slips out of you, the sensation lewd but a wave of tiredness washing over you.
When Echo returns from the refresher after saying he was going to get something to freshen you up, he pauses, his gaze lingering on you as you lie in bed, bathed in moonlight filtering through the blinds, casting shadows over your body.
Sensing his presence, your eyes flutter open, and you warmly smile at him. "See something you like?"
"Absolutely," he chuckles, stepping closer and handing you a cloth and towel. After you freshen up, you curl up under the duvet, Echo slipping in beside you. You nestle into his embrace, the silence between you comfortable.
But as you wince while shifting, he immediately panics. "Did I hurt you?"
"No, sweetie," you reassure him softly, kissing his cheek. "I'm just a bit tender. It's been a while," you admit sheepishly.
"Well… if you're sure," he says softly, visibly relaxing.
"I'm sure. I loved tonight. Thank you for being careful with me," you smile, and Echo can't help but plant a kiss on your hair, holding you close until the two of you fall asleep after a perfect night, at long last.
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Tags: @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog g @chrissywakingup @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @lamiliani @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @imalovernotahater @sithstrings @lulalovez @thiswitchloves9904
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joequiinn · 3 days
Text
The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 6
[all chapters here]
summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…
notes & tropes: fem reader, slow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers
a/n: I feel like this chapter took forever to write, but it was literally only a week (also shoutout to @eddiernunson for helping with it!)??? I put so much work into this one, so I can't wait to see what everyone thinks! Updates will probably change to weekly for the time being, as chapters are starting to get longer. Enjoy~~
wc: 5.7k
taglist: @a-queen-blr @costellation-hunter @daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie @damp4eddie @delilaaahhh @eddiernunson @em0220 @frogtape @fromasgardandback @kthomps914 @lotrefcp @marrowfrog00 @mewchiili @munsonssweets @no-bueno-writer @rach5ive @sav12321 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @steeldaisies @stormgrl19
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Eddie once again met you outside the school on Monday morning, waiting - presumably for you - near the front entrance. As you spotted one another, Eddie grinned flirtatiously, and you relaxed your face, realizing that before making eye contact with Eddie that your jaw was clenched and your gaze was harsh. You hadn’t realized how cold your neutral expression was up until recently.
Eddie pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against, meeting you at the front door in time to open it for you. The corner of your lip pulled up in thanks, and once you were both inside, Eddie rested his arm over your shoulders, causing you to let out a surprised breath as your neck grew just a touch warm. You were glad that you happened to have a book to hold and keep your hands occupied, as you just knew without it you’d have crossed your arms or let them awkwardly hang at your side; even in previous real relationships, you weren’t a particularly physical person.
“Princess,” He greeted mockingly, as if he knew putting his arm around you would make you tense.
Your eyes narrowed a little as you taunted back, “Freak.”
“I thought we said only nice nicknames.” Eddie turned his over-dramatic, sad eyes on you.
“I also remember telling you not to call me ‘princess.’” You retorted, intentionally avoiding his eyes.
“Ah, but it suits you, doesn’t it?” Eddie continued teasing as various students looked your way, some doing double-takes as they realized who you were walking with. Your eyes briefly flicked up to his face, but you looked away before he could notice your gaze.
As the pair of you approached your locker, you were almost disappointed that no one was lingering there prepared to try and drag you back in with the crowd you always knew. It was nearly surprising just how quickly everyone seemed to leave you in the dust the moment you started feigning any interest in Eddie - years of friendship really seemed to mean nothing, huh? But the disappointment didn’t show on your face, as it was outweighed by the opposite sense of relief that you didn’t have to put on too much of a show, that your plan had done its job almost too well.
Once you were at the locker, Eddie let his arm fall from you so you could shuffle around in your bag and your locker. You both took that opportunity to look around, and you nearly smiled when you realized Eddie was doing exactly the same thing as you - that he was looking for reactions, that he was looking for the faces of people that knew either of you. So, you noted, he seemed to be enjoying this charade, too.
“So,” Eddie eventually leaned against the wall of lockers to look at you as you fussed with your belongings, “my band has shows on Tuesday nights.”
“You’re in a band?” You ask with a hint of disbelief, looking up at his face for a moment, which furrowed a little at your question.
“I did mention I play guitar.”
“You didn’t mention the guitar or the band.” You countered smartly, to which Eddie rolled his eyes.
“Alright, fine,” You smirked to yourself while closing your locker, leaning your shoulder against it to mirror Eddie’s pose, “You should come to our show tomorrow.”
Before you could stop yourself, you made a critical face at the suggestion. Based on the way he dressed, you knew exactly the kind of music Eddie most likely played, and you were far from interested in that. And you had no idea if he was good or not, or who the hell his bandmates were - for all you knew, they were even bigger losers than him.
In response to your mean expression, Eddie narrowed his eyes, his jaw a touch tight, “Stop being stubborn. Maybe you’ll enjoy it.”
“I doubt it,” you said with an unamused grin. A moment later, Eddie looked past your shoulder, his eyes showing recognition for whoever the hell he was looking at. You whip around to see a friend of his, the one with the locker near yours; said friend appeared a little confused as he looked between you and Eddie.
Without warning, Eddie snatched your hand and dragged you in the other boy’s direction, causing you to nearly trip in the process. You, of course, glared at him for how quickly he pulled you along, but you said nothing as the two of you approached his puzzled friend.
“Gareth,” Eddie started with a charismatic grin, his voice loud with excitement that you weren’t prepared for. He tugged you alongside him, keeping a hold on your hand as if he were enjoying the fact that you couldn’t just pull away. With his free hand, Eddie presented you as if you were some prize, “You’re familiar with the resident ice princess.”
Gareth’s eyes went back and forth between the two of you, trying to keep his confusion from totally twisting his expression, which he did a poor job of. You, as well, were trying to keep your face from showing any annoyance or disorientation from this whole thing, although you were certain you instead just looked like a total bitch.
“Yes…” Gareth started hesitantly, his eyes finally settling on Eddie’s face, “I didn’t think you two knew each other, though…”
“Recent development.” Eddie shrugged nonchalantly, releasing your hand only to throw his arm on your shoulders again before you could retreat. You side-eyed him, briefly unconcerned with whether or not Gareth saw it - Eddie was being exceptionally annoying this morning.
“How did you two…?” Gareth pointed between you, his muddled voice trailing off.
You and Eddie looked at one another with realization - you didn’t have an answer for that. Neither of you had even considered that that was a story you needed, and you felt stupid for not thinking about it from the get go. Now, one of you had to come up with it on the fly; you weren’t sure if you’d prefer coming up with it yourself or leaving it to Eddie.
You should probably take this one, you decided - just your luck, if you left it to Eddie he’d come up with the most ridiculous story that could never hold up. Still staring up at him, you take a deep breath, prepared to come up with some explanation quickly, but Eddie beat you to the punch.
“We were meeting for a deal,” he began, and you briefly wondered if he was about to tell Gareth the truth, “chatting became flirting, so I asked her out on a whim; didn’t expect her to actually say ‘yes,’ though.”
Eddie gave you that charming smile of his, feeling your shoulders relax - that explanation was nice and simple, believable enough that no one would ask questions. It looked like it appeased Gareth, too, because his confusion didn’t appear nearly as blatant as it was a minute ago. You were sure he still found it odd and probably had minor doubts, but he didn’t seem the type to vocalize those things.
“She’s coming to our show tomorrow night.” Eddie added, to which you turned your harsh stare onto him again. Your mouth immediately opened to dispute, although you hesitated for a moment as you realized Eddie did this on purpose - he dragged you over  to his friend and put you on the spot, thinking you wouldn’t be able to argue in front of someone else. And you nearly debated whether or not you should, however, the small, smug look on Eddie’s face was exactly the catalyst you needed.
“I never said that.” You stated simply, watching the surprise that crossed Eddie’s face; yup, he didn’t think you’d debate this if another person was involved. You could see the hesitation in Gareth’s body language, could see that he was still getting over the fact that you and Eddie were, apparently, together.
“I thought you did?” Eddie put on a very convincing look, pretending to mull it over, trying to set you up to agree to it. You’d hand it to him, he was determined.
“No.” You raised your brow to challenge him, and you couldn’t help the small defiant smirk that dared to cross your lips, “I’ll need some incentive for that.”
“Whatever you want.” Eddie said without hesitation, returning his attention to Gareth with a humorous smile, “She’s not so bad once you get to know her.”
To that, you gave his chest a little smack, meeting Gareth’s eyes, which remained just as perplexed as before. Your customary impassive expression was on your face, “No, I’m worse.”
Gareth nearly looked nervous until you finally cracked a small smile, although he still seemed put off - he probably didn’t know whether or not you were kidding, even as you grinned at him. Maybe you needed to relax and not scare Eddie’s friends too much, it may eventually piss him off.
Eddie gave your shoulder a squeeze, as if it were a silent plea for you to behave yourself. You looked at his face for a few moments, once again challenging him, before returning your eyes to Gareth with a sigh.
“I’m not that bad.” You reassure plainly, certain that you don’t sound terribly convincing. Nonetheless, Gareth’s face isn’t nearly as hesitant, although you knew he was far from coming around to you.
“You get used to it.” Eddie chimed in while giving your shoulders a little tug, a signal that you two should start walking, “Don’t let her scare you too much, Gareth, the power will go to her head.”
You gave his chest another small smack while you scoffed. Eddie simply grinned and shook his head in amusement; he gave Gareth a nod of farewell before you two began to walk through the hall towards your first class of the day. Once you were out of earshot, you looked up at Eddie from the corner of your eye.
“Don’t set me up like that.” You instruct plainly, trying to avoid any malice that you would’ve used on him only a week ago.
“Oh, lesson learned.” Eddie retorted with a small sound of mirth, “I should’ve known you’d enjoy being difficult in front of other people.”
You shrugged, finding some mild amusement in it as well, “I just can’t seem to help myself.”
“You can say that again.” The pair of you walk in an easy silence for a few moments before Eddie looks at you with hopeful eyes, “But you will come tomorrow, right?”
You raise your brows at him, your face showing your disagreement with the question, “It’s not like I need to - I doubt anyone will be there to see us.”
Eddie rolled his eyes. He couldn’t believe how easily his thoughts and feelings about you fluctuated - one second, he enjoyed your company, the next he found you tiresome.
“Oh, come on,” Eddie started, studying your face, “Are we dating or not?”
“Well--”
“Don’t answer that.” Eddie cut you off, knowing exactly what you’d say to his poorly phrased question. You nearly laughed, but tried to keep a straight face - you didn’t need Eddie seeing you amused while you were trying to argue your case with him, “You know you have to meet my friends eventually, might as well be now. And I’d bet your parents wouldn’t be so happy about you going to a dive bar with a guy they don’t even know.”
As you two paused outside of your classroom, you gave Eddie a scrutinizing look, mulling over his two points - the one about his friends was neither here nor there, but he did make a good point about your parents. And from the look on his face, you figured he also knew that it was a good point.
While you studied him, Eddie leaned towards your face, his voice challenging, “Live a little.”
You narrowed your eyes, wanting to argue despite knowing that you were already losing. As you stared at one another, Eddie raised his brows impatiently, urging you to agree already and stop being so stubborn. You finally shook your head with a sigh of defeat, your brow furrowing even more as a cocky grin spread across Eddie’s lip.
“Fine, I’ll go. But I’m not gonna like it.”
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
You sneered with distaste as you eyed the Hideout, your gaze critical as you took in the neon signs, the filthy windows, and the crowds of older bikers and alcoholics. This is the place Eddie dragged you to? You could kill him for not better preparing you for just how seedy and unsavory it would be.
Behind you, Eddie and the band were pulling equipment from the back of the van, the clatter of cymbals and their mingling voices drawing your attention. As you turned around, they all quickly whipped their eyes in another direction, quieting just a little - of course they’d been staring at you, talking about you. How could they not, considering that all of a sudden you were dating one of the losers amongst them. And said loser gave you a friendly wink as you met his eyes, but your attention turned back to his friends, making them all nervous with your intense gaze.
Admittedly, you loved that they were scared of you, loved that they were too damn nervous to even look you in the eye. You couldn’t help but find it funny, and you figured it would take a long time to get them to even talk to you without tripping over their words.
You crossed your arms as you looked back up at the bar again, frowning, “This place looks like a venereal disease waiting to happen.”
You heard one of them make a surprised sound at your comment; you’d bet the band was sharing shocked, nervous glances just behind you.
“Relax, princess,” Eddie flung his arm over you, his guitar case in the opposite hand, “just try to have fun, it’s not as bad as it looks.”
You gave him a smart look, “You say that now, but just you wait until some creep tries to grope me.”
Eddie blew air between his lips, “You’d probably scare anyone that even looked at you funny. Besides, you already let one creep grope you.”
He made a grabby hand over your shoulder as if to suggest he was about to touch you indecently, and behind you two the band chuckled, causing Eddie to grin largely. You gave him an affronted look as you hit his shoulder.
“Shut up!” You were taken aback by the joke, but you realized Eddie was probably all riled up by his friends - he was a boy, after all, they always said shit just to make their friends laugh.
“Sorry, sorry.” He raised his arms in surrender, his eyes apologetic as they met yours, “None of those jokes, I get it.”
You continued to glare at him for another moment before looking back towards the band. Eddie introduced the other two that you hadn’t met before, but you were already forgetting their names. Jeff? Grant? You weren’t totally certain. You could see a thoughtful furrow in Gareth’s brow as you glanced over all of them, and something told you to pay attention to him - you had a feeling he didn’t believe you and Eddie, that if anyone were to figure out your lie it would be him. That made him a far more observant friend than any of yours.
Eddie took hold of your hand and started dragging you to the bar, his band following right behind the pair of you. As Eddie held the door open, the sound of bluesy rock music met your ears, and you took in the various patrons and surroundings of the Hideout. You could immediately tell the Hideout seemed to cater to musicians - the stage was cramped, but well-loved, central with bright lights and a crowd formed to watch the band currently in the spotlight. The place wasn’t packed - after all, it was a Tuesday - but there were more people than you were expecting.
You could tell your group brought the median age of the bar down dramatically, everyone else looking 40 or older. As you made your way through the patrons, a few glanced at the band in recognition, one man even clapping Eddie on the shoulder as you passed. Corroded Coffin must have spent a lot more time here than you gave them credit for.
You stayed practically tucked into Eddie’s side as he led you through the Hideout, not wanting to get lost amongst the crowd of drunks. Once you reached the bar, Eddie greeted the bartender with familiarity, pulling you in closer to introduce you to the man with an eager grin, really selling that you were his girlfriend. His tone could’ve even fooled you.
“Keep an eye on her, alright, she’s trouble.” Eddie joked with the bartender, causing you to roll your eyes as they laughed.
“You look like you can handle yourself.” The bartender offered while meeting your eyes. Although he had a rough exterior, there was nothing about his gaze that felt off, so you gave him a small look of confirmation.
“That’s the problem.” Eddie teased, looking at you playfully.
You realized the rest of Corroded Coffin was already waiting in the wings, watching the other band finish up their set. Eddie gave your hand a small tug, drawing your attention back to him; he leaned down a little as he spoke, mouth close to your ears so you could hear him over the loud music.
“Stay here with Jack, alright?” He nodded his head towards the bartender, “That way I don’t lose you.”
“I thought you said this place wasn’t as bad as it looked.” You pulled back a little so he could see you raise a taunting brow.
“It’s not.” He reiterated, “but just my luck, you’ll draw trouble to you.”
You hummed in disagreement, “If there’s trouble, that’s on you.”
“That’s what I’m worried about.” Eddie grinned in contrast to his words, his eyes amused. He leaned towards you again as if he wanted to put on some show of physical affection, but hesitated; why did that ever so briefly make you nervous? Instead, he pulled his hand from yours while bringing his lips close to your ear again; you unconsciously flexed your hand now that it was free.
“We’re going on soon. Try to have fun.” Eddie took a deep breath before pulling back, and you almost thought that he had smelled your hair, but you figured that couldn’t be true.
As he’d done before, Eddie’s fingers grazed your back as he walked off in the direction of the stage. You watched him closely, the realization hitting you that this was a new place and you knew no one here. And it’s not that that frightened you or made you nervous, but the observation put you on your guard, made you a little more tense and aware of your surroundings.
Your eyes stayed locked on Eddie as he laughed with his friends, taking the stage to set up their equipment. You took the opportunity to study him, taking in the way his laugh spread through his entire body, the way he seemed to be so much more dramatic and playful and boisterous with his friends around. For a few moments, you didn’t even realize you were nearly smiling, although your expression quickly evened out with that realization. What the hell were you smirking about?
“Drink?” Jack’s gravelly voice asked over your shoulder, so you turned back towards the bar and eyed him momentarily.
“No, I’m not--”
He cut you off with a dismissive wave of his hand, knowing what you were going to say about your age, “Does this look like the kind of place that cares?”
His tone was matter-of-fact, and you smirked in appreciation at it. You considered for a moment what you wanted to drink, hopping up into one of the bar chairs as Jack watched you patiently, “What’s the girliest drink you know how to make?”
He laughed at the question, shaking his head but accepting it, “Ah, one girly drink coming right up.”
The corner of your mouth tugged back - there was something about Jack that instantly amused you. Maybe his grumpy vibes were entertaining, or maybe it was the fact that he found his own amusement in your drink order. Regardless, maybe it wasn’t so bad that Eddie effectively left this man as your babysitter.
The sound of a bass being tuned caused you to look back up at the stage. Eddie’s guitar was slung over his shoulder as he discussed something with the band, everyone looking prepared to start any minute now.
As Jack set a pretty drink in front of you, Eddie tested the mic, looking delighted at the crowd as the band finished their preparation. Again, you caught yourself smiling a little, blindly picking up your drink from the bartop as you continued to watch Eddie.
Of course, the almost endearing look on your face disappeared entirely once the music started. Just as you had expected, the drums were loud, the guitar thrashing, and Eddie’s singing rough and whiny. You couldn’t help the sneer on your face - this was so not your kind of music. Although the crowd seemed to respond positively, this just wasn’t your scene, and you unintentionally sat stiffly in your seat.
You hoped the lights were bright enough that Eddie couldn’t see you. Considering that his eyes hadn’t settled on you in some time, you figured the stage lighting made it difficult to find you. You just knew the disinterest that your body language exuded was bound to annoy him to some extent. Sure, you could fake being his girlfriend easily enough, but you couldn’t fake any interest in metal music. It was so damn loud and aggressive that it made your chest hurt and left your head confused.
However, once you got past that, you were able to study Eddie a little more. He was… actually good at this. You knew absolutely nothing about music, but just from watching Eddie you recognized how complicated the guitar was, how much skill it actually took to play these complex chords. His vocals were another story, but with that guitar Eddie showed an impressive amount of expertise, skilled hands with an intense care and focus. At one point, you nearly began to zone out while watching Eddie’s hands work up and down the neck of the guitar, and when you finally shook yourself out of the trance, you had to wonder just how long you’d been staring so damn intently at Eddie’s hands.
As the band played on, Jack brought you a second drink before you were even done with your first. You smiled in thanks before knocking back what was left in your first glass. Like any good popular high school kid, you’d been to your fair share of parties with alcohol aplenty, but that didn’t make you any less of a lightweight. One drink you could handle just fine, but it was always the second drink that started to make things a little blurry. So, you eyed your new glass warily, deciding whether or not you were brave enough to drink it.
But what did you have to lose? Despite its appearances, you were safe enough here at the Hideout, you figured you wouldn’t be out too late, and one more drink wasn’t going to totally mess you up. So, you grabbed the glass decisively, returning your attention to Eddie as you took a sip. You’d just cut yourself off after this one, no need to get plastered on a Tuesday night.
But damn it, Jack was too good a bartender, because as you were about finished with this glass, he put another in front of you. You furrowed your brows a little, stopping him before he could walk away and attend to the other patrons.
“I really shouldn’t!” You had to shout over how damn loud Corroded Coffin was - did someone turn up the speakers, or did they sound even louder because of your drinks? Jack leaned on the counter, his expression gruff but his eyes somehow still kind. He pointed in Eddie’s direction.
“Have one more, I trust that kid’ll take good care of you.” You made a doubtful face, looking between Jack and the drink. Unconsciously, you went back to sipping at the one in your hand, scrutinizing the bartender, “I’ve known Eddie since he was 14 - when I say he’ll take good care of you, I mean it.”
The comment was surprisingly genuine, causing you to cock your head curiously. Seeing something in your expression change, Jack gave you the slightest of smirks before turning his attention onto the other waiting customers. You realized a moment later that you hit the bottom of your glass; you stared at the melting ice briefly before looking at the new drink in front of you. Fine, one more. As you swapped the glasses, you hopped to your feet, forgetting that Eddie had asked you to stay at the bar.
That second drink put you a little more at ease; the loud music didn’t bother you nearly as much as it did before, and you didn’t mind pushing your way through the bar patrons anymore. You didn’t know where you wanted to go exactly, but you knew you needed to get on your feet for a little bit. So, you began to maneuver closer to the stage, keeping to one side of the crowd so you weren’t entirely packed between people. Your gaze stayed almost zeroed in on Eddie, taking in his stage presence thoughtfully.
Aside from him actually showing talent that you weren’t expecting, you also noticed how excited he was to be up there playing for people. The elation in his face, the animation in his body language - he had a lot of love for music, that was obvious to you. And because the drinks had been loosening you up over the course of the set, you realized that you were actually smiling as you watched him, actually enjoying the sight of Eddie live it up on this dinky little stage.
You didn’t even try to fight the look on your face, assuming that Eddie still couldn’t see you - you couldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that you were having a good time, after all. You even caught yourself tapping your foot along to the music at one point, as if the rhythm was beginning to make sense to you. It was more than just cacophonous noise - or at least that’s how it felt now that you were nearly three drinks deep - although you still didn’t quite understand the appeal of metal. Nonetheless, you found yourself trying to enjoy it.
It was as Eddie announced the final song that you finished your drink, leaving the empty glass on some nearby table. For a moment, you caught yourself wishing you weren’t here alone, wishing you could’ve dragged Amelia or Janet here to keep you company. Although the music and venue were far from anyone’s taste, this was exactly the kind of thing you all would have normally done together. But just as quickly as you thought that, you also remembered all the times Amelia had just disappeared on you at parties, all the times Janet flaked at the last minute when you discussed going to shows up in Indianapolis.
You got so caught up in your thoughts that you hadn’t realized Corroded Coffin just wrapped up their set. And you didn’t come back to yourself until a hand cupped your ass, immediately setting you off like dynamite.
You whipped around to find a grimy but otherwise nondescript man lingering behind you, a slimy look on his face. You were also briefly aware of Eddie’s voice calling something from the wing of the stage, but you were already in go-mode, arm reeling and swinging ungracefully to crack the guy. Your aim was a little off and you nearly missed, but you still managed to make contact, although with his throat rather than his jaw like you intended. If there was any pain in your own hand, you probably wouldn’t notice it until tomorrow.
As he stumbled back, you felt someone else come up behind you, and you were about ready to hit them, too, until you were spun around to face Eddie. He held your shoulders, but you still had to steady yourself by grabbing his forearms, meeting his shocked eyes with far too much of a calmness about you. Eddie’s brow furrowed as he looked you up and down then looked past you at the man you hit, then back at you.
“Jesus, can’t leave you alone, can I?” His tone was bewildered, as if he couldn’t believe he saw you, the ice princess, hit a guy. Sure, he knew you had quite a bark, but he didn’t know you also had a bite.
Thanks to the drinks in you, a laugh escaped your throat - was it a nervous one, or did you find the whole thing actually funny? You looked back at the man to see him already being taken care of, Jack dragging him out of the bar. No one else seemed to bat an eye at the ruckus, perhaps because they were used to it, choosing to carry on and ignore it. You met Eddie’s concerned eyes again, grinning uncharacteristically large.
“Fucking idiot.” Eddie looked nearly offended until he realized you were talking about the man and not him. He sighed, shaking his head with near mirth, still trying to wrap his head around this whole thing.
But after a few moments, he laughed - it was small and breathy, but when his eyes met yours again, there was definitely a glimmer of amusement there. He stepped back from you looking around in disbelief, a smile threatening to pull at his lips.
“Don’t piss you off, got it.” Eddie finally smiled while looking you up and down; now that the shock had passed, he was actually a little impressed by how it handled yourself. Feeling a touch sobered up, you shrugged in defense of yourself.
“Well, he shouldn’t have acted like an idiot.” Eddie chuckled at your comment, nodding in agreement.
“I didn’t know you had a right hook like that.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” You counter, swaying a little on your feet yet again, which made your statement nearly laughable. Eddie put out his arm in case he needed to steady you, looking you over heedfully.
“I think it’s time we get you home.” He says simply, putting his hand to the small of your back and guiding you towards the band as they packed up their equipment. You allowed him to lead you, although you rolled your eyes a little at how cautious he was being with you, as if you were a baby bird or something.
“Oh, come on, the night is young.” You say far too lightheartedly, making Eddie eye you with a curious look - after all, this lax attitude was incredibly odd for you. Is this how you always behaved when you drank? Open and approachable and even a little fun? He’d have to keep that in mind, keep an eye on you in the future.
“You’ll regret saying that tomorrow.” Eddie teased while grabbing his guitar case from where it leaned against the wall. Meanwhile, you relaxed against a nearby speaker, watching as the group finished collecting their belongings. You realized Gareth was looking at you, and rather than glower as you’d normally do, you instead gave him a tipsy grin. That seemed to confuse him even more, as he nervously looked back at what he was doing.
“You guys aren’t half bad.” You say to no one in particular, although they all briefly glanced up with varying degrees of surprise. Only Eddie smiled.
“Is that meant to be a compliment?” He ribbed. You playfully made a face, but didn’t grace him with a response.
Eventually, you and Eddie were back in the van, the rest of Corroded Coffin having carpooled separately. As Eddie pulled away from the Hideout, you watched him drive, studying his hands as they drummed on the steering wheel. Some metal music you weren’t familiar with played through the speakers, but luckily Eddie kept the volume low enough that your brain didn’t rattle.
Watching Eddie’s fingers move, you recalled his skill on the guitar, how easily his fingers slid over the strings, how his hands practically danced on the instrument. It was a talent that you actually found quite impressive, although you weren’t about to divulge that information to him. You turn your attention to his face, how the moonlight highlighted certain features; a sheen of sweat caused his bangs to stick to his forehead, his cheeks still flushed, a content look settled on his face. Once again, you found yourself zoning out as you stared at him.
“You were good tonight.” The words left your mouth unexpectedly as you continued staring at him, and Eddie looked over at you with disbelief, as if you actually giving him a compliment was so foreign. His eyes pulled you from your slight daze, and you tried to collect yourself but fumbled, “You’re good at… guitar.”
God, that sounded stupid. And as if to emphasize it, Eddie laughed merrily, clearly delighted by your own confusion in your phrasing. You glared harshly, hating the fact that you sounded so dumb.
“Your singing could use some fucking work, though.” You retaliated unnecessarily, huffing as you crossed your arms and slouched in the seat. Eddie’s laughter died down as he looked at your pouting face, although that in itself made him want to keep laughing. But he pushed down that desire, not wanting to get you riled up.
“Oh, come on,” he reached over to nudge your knee, his palm hot against your skin. If you weren’t so grumpy, you probably would have liked the feel of it, “Sorry… but thank you. Glad to know I’m good at guitar.”
You glanced at him, still glaring, but his expression was genuine and nonjudgmental, sweet even, and you felt yourself begin to relax.
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hllywdwhre · 14 hours
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My Darling Boy
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Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Irish!fem!reader
Summary: Tommy’s late night leads to you comforting him and a recount of the first time you realized you loved him.
Warnings: Panic attacks, reader faces anti-Irish sentiment from a stranger, Tommy says some questionable things about the Irish but nothing too bad💀, violence, bar fight. Let me know if I missed any!
Word Count: 2.8K
Notes: This was 100% inspired by @red-write-hand ‘s Tommy bot. My god do I love that thing and fluff it gives me. I tried keeping this as reader friendly as possible, but some details had to be added to fit the plot, such as reader being Irish.
Edit: This has not been proofread and YIKES. Sorry for all the errors😭
Flashbacks are italicized!
You stared at the clock on your wall that read 2:07 AM. Tommy was supposed to be in bed three hours ago. It was your agreement. He could work as late as he wanted as long as he ate all three meals with you and came to bed at 11. The resolve had come almost a year ago when you’d finally told him you, his wife, felt like second place to his work.
But here it was. 2AM, your bed felt cold without him there, and this was the third time this week that he hadn’t come to bed on time.
You tried not to argue with him. He had enough stress with work and you didn’t want to be a source of more stress, but you had his same quick temper and you couldn’t deny that you were more than irritated that he was seemingly back to his old ways of ignoring your agreement.
You made your way down the hall and to his office, leaning against the door frame.
Tommy spoke before you could, “I know what you’re about to say.”
The exhaustion in his voice and the way he looked… defeated immediately caused a change of heart in you, though.
“My darling boy,” you said in a soft voice, making sure to use the pet name you had for him to try and avoid him thinking you were there for an argument.
“Don’t ‘my darling boy’ me,” he replied immediately with a bite in his tone, “Not when you’re here to start an argument with me. What time is it?”
You’d known Tommy since he came back from The Great War. You knew more than well enough by now to not take his words to heart when he was like this. He was taking his anger out on you, whether you deserved it or not.
You had blinded men and taken their tongues using the bladed Peaky Blinders cap for speaking to you the way Tommy was speaking to you, but Tommy was your soft spot. Somehow, you always remained calm when it came to Tommy.
You made your way over to his desk and picked up the empty whiskey glass that was next to a stack of papers that littered his desk.
“It’s 2 in the morning, my love,” you replied in a calm voice. You walked over to the fireplace where his bottle of whiskey sat and refilled the glass then placed it on the desk again.
He picked it up as soon as you set it down and took a long drink from it.
“I have work, you know that. The business doesn’t run itself.” He took another swallow of the liquid and you could see the way his breathing had picked up slightly.
It started to make sense in that moment. You knew Tommy as well as he knew you and as well as you knew yourself. You knew the signs of one of his panic attacks beginning and stepped between him and his desk.
“I know that. I’m not mad at you, darling,” you replied after a moment. You made sure to keep your voice the steady and calm tone you knew he needed at the moment as you spoke. “Can you look at me?”
Tommy took a deep breath before looking up at you and you could see the thin sheen of sweat on his forehead along with the way his eyes seemed unable to focus on you. You lifted your hand to his cheek and gently ran your thumb across it in a slow motion.
“What’s your full name?” You asked him. The questions you would ask him changed from time-to-time so he wouldn’t get too used to them. They were simple questions, enough to distract him and get him to focus on you, but not enough to send him into a further panic.
“Thomas Michael Shelby, why?” He raised the glass to his lips again, but his breathing only picked up more.
You took the glass from his hand and set it on the desk behind you then placed his hand on your chest, right where you knew he would be able to feel your heartbeat.
“Focus on my breathing and my voice. What’s John’s wife’s name?” You asked him next.
You watched as he closed his eyes and did as you said, trying to match his breathing to yours as you began taking slower and deeper breaths.
“Esme,” he answered after a moment.
“When’s our wedding anniversary?” You asked next.
”The 17th of August.”
You knew it was silly, but you couldn’t help the blush that rose to your cheeks at how quickly and easily he answered that question. It was the little things like that which reminded you that you were still his number one priority.
“Can you look at me again?” You asked him once you noticed his breathing had calmed down.
Tommy looked to you, his blue eyes immediately finding your eyes and locking onto them. The corner of his mouth tilted into a small smirk and you returned it with a small smile of your own.
“I love you,” you told him as you crawled into his lap and pulled him into a hug, trying to help ground him more.
He immediately returned your hug and buried his head into your neck. Your hands instinctively rose to the back of his head and gently ran your nails across the shaved part of it.
“I love you, too. Even when I’m a mess,” he replied quietly.
“You’re not a mess,” you argued immediately, “you’re my amazing husband, an amazing business leader, an amazing member of parliament, and the strongest person I’ve ever met.”
A sigh left his lips after a long moment and his head remained buried in your neck. His breathing was no longer panicked and he had relaxed into your hold completely.
“I don’t deserve you,” he muttered into your neck.
“Funny,” you said with a chuckle, “I think the same thing of me.” You moved your head enough so you could kiss his temple. “Love you with all my heart, Thomas Shelby. You’re my darling boy.”
As soon as the pet name left your lips, he was chuckling into your neck. It was one anyone else would be maimed for calling him, but somehow you saying it had won him over.
“Love you, too,” he murmured in response.
After a couple long minutes of the two of you curled into each other, and once you were sure he wouldn’t panic speaking of it, you asked him,
“What led to it?”
He immediately knew what you were asking and shook his head in your neck,
“Nothing,” he replied in a defeated voice.
You pulled back enough to cause him to raise his head and she the quirked brow you were giving him,
“Thomas Shelby, what do you tell me every time I try to say the same thing?”
Any time you tried to belittle your problems, Tommy was the one who was telling you that if it was causing you troubles, then it wasn’t nothing and it was worth talking about.
He grumbled something under his breath about using his own words against him and then finally answered.
“The bloody Irish,” he said loud enough for you to hear.
You couldn’t stop the giggle that left your lips. You knew Tommy knew better than to think she was laughing at him or her problems; you were simply laughing at the irony of it all.
“What have my people done now?” You asked, purposefully making your accent come out as thick as possible to pick on him.
“Made an illegal shipment without our say so,” Tommy replied and you could hear the smile in his voice.
“Well… we’ve never liked to obey the English. I think my ancestors are rolling in their graves at how soft I am with you,” you teased, hoping to get at least a chuckle out of him.
It worked and you could feel the way his body shook the slightest bit as the small laugh left him,
“You’re not soft, darling, you’re just civilized,” he teased in return.
You pulled away with a look of mock offense on your face,
“Hey, now! My people are very civilized, we just know how to have fun,” you told him.
You know Tommy held no actual disdain towards you or your Irish blood. He himself was part Irish. He only spoke this way around you to get under your skin and pick on you.
“If you call bar fights being civilized then sure, darling.” The smirk on his face told you he was still only teasing you.
You scrunched up your nose as you looked at him,
“Maybe not your strongest point, love. I’ve come home with a black eye from an English bar fight where, for once, I was genuinely an innocent bystander and I had to keep you from going after half of Small Heath,” you pointed out.
Tommy’s face immediately darkened at the memory of that night and he tried to stutter out some defense of how it was different, but you shook your head no.
“You know that was the night I realized I loved you?” You told him as your own version of the memories flitted through your mind and you tried to distract him from the darker thoughts of his mind.
Your words seemed to catch him off guard and he looked up at you with surprise written on his features.
“Really?” He asked, unsure how else to reply.
You nodded in response and you felt another deep blush creep onto your cheeks. One thing you and Tommy had in common was that vulnerability didn’t come natural to you.
“Would you care to know how I remember that night?” You asked to which he nodded. “It was after a day of shopping with Ada and Esme. You and I had been together for three months at that point, and Ada and Esme were sure we were going to end up getting married, so they wanted to make sure I knew I was part of the family.”
You knew he knew all of this, but you wanted to tell him the whole story of how you had come to the realization and what had happened leading up to the fight.
”After we were done shopping, Esme had John meet us up at The Garrison so we could all have a drink.”
The three of you stumbled through the doors of the pub, giggling over something Ada had said.
John motioned the three of you over to the table he was sitting at, already having ordered a round of drinks for you. It was the first time you had sat outside of the private room the Shelbys had, and the last.
In the middle of the three of you telling John about the new dress Ada had bought, someone who’d had one too many drinks came stumbling over.
“I don’t get you Shelbys. You serve your country in the war then associate with some Irish scum,” he spat out, motioning from John to you.
You had met the other Shelbys while Arthur, Tommy, and John were in France. Polly had needed a bookkeeper for the betting shop and had taken you, even vouching for you when they had returned. After a year of working with them, one incident where you had been used as bait that had gone too far, and you’d been forced to defend yourself, Tommy had decided to make you an official Peaky Blinder. You may not wear your Peaky cap, but the bladed item was also on you. Offers had been made to hide blades in other women’s items of clothing, but you had denied. You had learned how to hide the cap among scarves, shawls, or in your bags and you wanted the official Peaky Blinders symbol.
John had immediately jumped to your defense that night in The Garrison.
“She’s a damn Peaky Blinder and has been for years! She can be trusted as well as any Englishman or woman.” He had defended, standing up to meet the man eye-to-eye as a warning to leave.
“Do you know who you’re talking about?” Ada said next, standing up also, “Irish or not, she’s Tommy’s girl and a Blinder.”
“I don’t give a shit if she’s Tommy’s current whore or not. She’s Irish scum and I don’t want to be in a pub with the likes of her,” the man spat back at Ada.
Esme and you both stood up at this and the rest of the pub had silenced as they watched the scene unfold. Seemingly out of thin air, a couple other Blinders that were present came to stand beside John as he told the man to leave the pub while he could still see the door.
Next thing you knew, Esme had pulled you harshly out of the way as a glass shattered against the wall behind you.
Chaos broke out immediately. Despite you trying to fight against them, a couple patrons or other members of the Peaky Blinders (you weren’t sure which) had tried to drag you, Ada, and Esme back to the office. During the mix, a blow landed on your cheek and you quickly swung back.
The fight seemed to halt immediately after. Even if the guy was brave enough to harass you for being Irish, throw a glass at your head, and fight John over everything, everyone else seemed to realize the grave mistake that had been made in that moment.
No one touched Thomas Shelby’s woman, and there she was with a bruise already evident on her cheek.
John grabbed the guy by the scruff of the neck like he was nothing more than a rabid dog, called for you to follow him, and called for Esme and Ada to be walked back to the betting shop and for all the members of the Peaky Blinders present to go there, also.
You walked with John to the canal and were told by John that you ‘could do the honors of killing the bastard’ yourself.
After the deed was done, the two of you had walked back to the betting shop and arrived at the same time as Tommy.
You remembered the worry on his face as he looked for you, the anger that took over when he spotted the black eye, him screaming at everyone to give him an answer as to what had happened and who had harmed you, and the way he had pulled you into his arms in a hug that nearly crushed you.
You remembered the feeling of safety that washed over you once you were in his arms, the feeling of home, and the way you were able to ignore the chaos around you as others explained what exactly had happened that night.
You remembered the way he wouldn’t let anyone else touch you until he had personally looked you over for any injuries.
You remembered the look he had when you told him you’d killed the man. The disappointment over not being the one to do it himself, but the pride in you standing up for yourself.
“I remember being absolutely terrified when it finally clicked in my head what I was feeling. I have never feared you, but I was terrified of ever getting my heart broken again. I knew Esme and Ada had said they were sure we would be married, but my own insecurities came into play, and I was terrified you’d realize how much of a mess I could be and you’d leave me,” you told him, leaned in and kissing him softly for a moment before continuing on, “You never left me. Even when we’ve fought, you never let me feel like you were going to leave me. I learned that no matter what happened, you’d move the earth, heavens, and hells to make sure you always came back to me.”
Tommy remained silent as you finished your story. He opened his mouth several times to speak, but it seemed you had actually managed to make the man speechless.
“I love you, Thomas Michael Shelby,” you muttered as you leaned in to kiss him again, “I meant it the first time I said those words, when I accepted your proposal, when we said them at the altar, when I say them now, and every time in between. You’re my darling boy through it all.”
His hand came up to cup your face and he rested his forehead against yours, “I’ve meant them all, too. You’re mine until the end of time.”
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good-to-drive · 3 days
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I totally agree with the general consensus that Ringo provided a lot of emotional support and coolheadedness to the other beatles to the point where they'd have probably killed each other without him but I do also wonder sometimes how much of that is being supernaturally patient and easygoing and how much of it is Ringo just having a tumultuous and isolated childhood where he was never taught to recognize and assert his own emotional needs so he became a blank slate on which others could process their emotions
(And tbh I also wonder how an inability to access or assert his feelings may have contributed to his tendency to process pain by numbing himself and the pretty shitty way he treated women)
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mysticheathenn · 1 day
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What Do You Need To Work On To Bring in Love?
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Hi, Hexlings!
This pick-a-card reading is all about where in your life that you need to work on in order to bring in love.
This is a general reading, remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. This reading does not supplement your need to seek professional help. Tarot should be used as entertainment and not a sure answer to your problems but as a guide, a sense of hope, and amusement.
Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.
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Pile l:
What do you need to work on to bring in love? Tarot: Awakening, 5 of Cups, Page of Wands, 8 of Swords, Knight of Cups.
Self Esteem. Regardless of gender some of you have dealt with a "maneater" in the past. What I mean is you dealt with someone who made you feel as if you weren't worth anyone's time. They made you feel little, made you question your worth, and so forth. Some of you are either still dealing with this person (very few) while others of you are still grieving and trying to heal from this past relationship. Some of you are actually trying to heal but every single time you feel you are making any kind of progress you take two steps back and it's ass if you're still in that relationship all over again. You're not too sure how to change things for the better or heck some of you don't think you will get better and you will forever be "broken". I'm here to tell you that things will get better, you just need to find out WHO you are and what YOU think of yourself and not what anyone else thinks. Find something that you like about yourself no matter how small. This can be you loving your dimples, your kindness, the way your farts smell, anything, and start from there and work your way up to other things you may love about yourself. Ask loved ones what they love about you and try to see what they see and do affirmations in the mirror. Some of you may even benefit from Mirror Work or if you are readers reading Mirror Work by Louise Hay. Either way, you are worth loving, you are beautiful, you are amazing, etc etc.
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Pile ll:
What do you need to work on to bring in love? Tarot: 9 of Pentacles (reversed), The Sun, 10 of Cups (reversed), King of Cups
Mindset. Similar to Pile l but a bit different. Instead of this pile dealing with a previous relationship, I'm hearing "It's me, hi...I'm the problem it's me" You are the problem. Some of you don't believe that you are meant to be happy or even find true love. This could be because of a previous relationship that made you feel this way or because of self-worth or the constant videos on social media that show you toxic relationships and you feel that all the good people are taken. Either way, You need to start believing that good things can and will happen for you regardless of what your surroundings show you. Regardless of how the past has treated you. Most importantly regardless of what social media or even your friends and family's relationships may show you to make you want to stay single. True love is out there and it's waiting for you to switch your mindset to the Sun card and believe that all good things happen to you. Nothing but amazing people flow into your life. Some of you I believe may feel this way because you constantly get lesson after lesson from the universe and from what I am hearing for a "good" reason that I rather not touch on because everyone's path is different. ("Good" meaning transformation within yourself for the better not good that you deserve it.) Read romance novels, and tap into the algorithm that shows you healthy relationships. I know there was a trend on TikTok recently where one female wanted people to display their healthy relationships to give others hope because her algorithm kept showing toxicity and weaponized incompetence from partners, etc. Do any and everything that you can do to surround yourself with positive and loving love.
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Pile lll:
What do you need to work on to bring in love? Tarot: Hanged Man, 5 of Pentacles (reversed), King of Swords, Page of Wands, 5 of Swords
Self Worth. Pile lll you have a horrible habit of letting people go. You're like a hoarder but for people. Some of you are giving me the definition of "I can fix them." Even when a person treats you horribly, even when someone disrespects you, even when a person shows you nothing but red flags, you are always there for them ready to take whatever it is they want to give you. You literally will take whatever scraps a person will give you if it means that you feel they thought of you for a split second. A very few have FOMO. What do I mean? I mean you are staying in this toxic environment waiting for that one day or the chance of them turning their ways around and treating you the way that you truly deserve. Instead of you constantly always making excuses for their bad and wild behavior. Call a spade a spade, please. If they are not calling, being communicative, or even giving you the time of day. They are not interested. I think I have a video clip of what you need to hear, Click Here. The lady in the video speaks about men but this goes for any and all genders if I am being honest. People will do what they want to do. People will treat you how they want to treat you regardless of gender. Overall the saying being delulu is the solulu was not meant for you babe. Wake up, smell, and pour the coffee on yourself to wake up your senses to know you deserve better and there are people out here ready to give you attention, love, affection, etc and you don't have to beg or wait by the door like a dog for it.
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Pile lV:
What do you need to work on to bring in love? Tarot: 9 of Wands, The Moon, 5 of Pentacles (reversed), The Emperor, 8 of Swords
Divine Feminine. Pile lV I want to hug you because I see myself in you a bit. You deal with hyper-independence badly when it comes to relationships or even in life for some of you. Just in case you don't know what that means, it means you can't release control to others because you feel like the saying "If you want something done right, do it yourself." Someone or many people in your life or even past relationships always made you feel like you always had to do everything because you can't count on everyone. You literally have to carry the whole relationship on your shoulders. You also remind me of the quote "Since I stopped texting people first, I haven't heard from a lot of people in a while." You may have also been drawn to pile lll some of you at least. Either way, you need to start operating in your divine feminine and letting the chips fall where they may. If anyone wants to be in your life the phone, intentions, etc works both ways. Let people show you how much you mean to them without needing to control every single outcome in order to not want to lose someone because you either aren't sure when or if someone else will come along or because you want this relationship to work out because you have been in so many that you are tired of leaving the chips where it may. For a few of you, I sense you may be the type that has a five year plan like you want to have kids, get married, have a few dogs, that kind of plan and you feel if you leave it up to others you will never get there. One thing I will tell you about that mindset is it will have you settling pile lV. Let people show you how they love others. If it isn't what you expect, want, or desire then you need to leave. Stop settling, stop trying to carry the entire relationship, just stop baby. You deserve to for once operate in your feminine energy. You deserve to sit back and relax while you let someone pour into you instead of the other way around.
Thank you for liking and reblogging my readings. I always appreciate you guys on here and on Patreon.
Stay safe and be blessed
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la-pheacienne · 3 days
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George Martin, 2013: "In a very basic level winter is coming for all of us. I think that’s one of the things that art is concerned with: the awareness of our own mortality. “Valar morghulis” – “All men must die”. That shadow lies over our world and will until medical science gives us all immortality… but I don’t think it makes it necessarily a pessimistic world. Not any more pessimistic than the real world we live in. We’re here for a short time and we should be conscious of our own mortality, but the important thing is that love, compassion and empathy with other human beings is still possible. Laughter is still possible! Even laughter in the face of death… The struggle to make the world a better place… We have things like war, murder and rape… horrible things that still exist, but we don’t have to accept them, we can fight the good fight. The fight to eliminate those things.There is darkness in the world, but I don’t think we necessarily need to give way to despair. One of the great things that Tolkien says in Lord of The Rings is “despair is the ultimate crime”. That’s the ultimate failing of Denethor, the Steward of Gondor, that he despairs of ever being able to defeat Sauron. We should not despair. We should not go gentle into that good night".
JRR Tolkien, 1962 : "One reviewer once said, this is a jolly jolly book, all the right boys come home [...]- this isn't true of course, he can't have read the story. [...] Human stories are practically always about one thing, really, aren't they? Death. The inevitability of death. . . . . . (He quotes Simone de Beauvoir) 'There is no such thing as a natural death. Nothing that ever happens to man is natural, since his presence calls the whole world into question. All men must die, but for every man his death is an accident, and even if he knows it he would sense to it an unjustifiable violation.' Well, you may agree with the words or not, but those are the key spring of The Lord Of The Rings".
"Lotr is all rainbows and unicorns and Asoiaf is nihilistic and grimdark". Wrong, and wrong. In all its hope and radiance, lotr often gets very dark, and despite all the death and suffering, the hopeful moments in asoiaf shine bright. The meeting point of these two is this: having hope while in despair, and even better, refusing to give up because you have to go on despite not having any hope left.
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honeybcj · 2 days
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jartylus microfic?
for my genius anon about reg getting turned on while watching barty & james get together and to @messymoony for convincing me that i should, in fact, write this. here we are. nsfw: voyeur regulus, sub james, spanking, 1,424 words
“Come on, Barty,” Regulus huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t get soft now. He likes it. Don’t you, Jamie?”
“Mhmm, mm,” James agrees, muffled around the feeling of Barty’s fingers in his mouth.
At some point, James had relinquished control. He doesn’t know when or how it happened, but it did. And now, he’s on his knees in front of Barty Crouch Jr., all while Barty explores the wet cavern of his mouth. He’s leaking steadily against his boxers, straining against the material. There’s part of James that wants to fight back, bite down on Barty’s fingers to make him hiss, but the masochistic fuck would probably moan at the sensation.
Instead, James keeps his jaw slack, gaze upward as Barty presses down on his tongue, saliva pooling around his fingers.
“He does look rather pathetic for it, doesn’t he?” Barty muses, pulling his fingers from James’ mouth. They tug down James’ lower lip, only for it to snap back into place.
“‘M not—” James tries to speak, but Regulus cuts him off with, “Baby, let him take care of you. Stop fighting it, yeah? I can’t bear to keep up with the tension between the two of you.”
James puffs out his chest defensively. There’s most definitely not any tension between him and Barty. James hates Barty, and Barty hates James.
Apparently, none of that matters because Barty’s already pulling his cock out from his pants, giving it a few slow strokes. As if all the gods in the world are against him, James’ mouth waters at the sight, focus locking in with the precum sitting all shiny on the head of his cock.
“Now, are you going to be a good boy, James?” Regulus asks, cocking his head to the side. His fingers are playing a dangerous game with the waistband of his trousers. Hell, James wouldn’t blame Regulus for wanting to touch himself right now because whatever it is that Barty’s doing, it’s undeniably hot, James’ skin prickling with want.
“Yes,” James finally whispers, gaze flickering between Regulus and Barty.
“Good boy,” Barty praises with a grin, tapping his cheek lightly with his free hand.
James almost jerks away, but surprisingly, he finds himself leaning into the touch, swaying on his knees as he eyes greedily at Barty’s cock. Slick tip begging for a tongue—James’ tongue. James swallows, throat bobbing, and without so much as a single word, James opens his mouth, staring expectantly at Barty.
“Good god,” Barty snorts, rubbing the head of his cock over James’ lips, getting them all shiny with precum.
“He loves having his mouth full. Sucks the strap like a champ. Go on,” Regulus urges, slipping his hand below the waistband of his pants. “Let him have a taste.”
“What if,” Barty considers, just slipping the tip of cock against James’ tongue. “I just want to fuck him. Fill him up nice and good.”
Regulus shrugs, then nods. “He’ll take anything you give. Won’t you, James?”
All sense flies out the window when James laps hungrily at the head of Barty’s cock, a delicious moan escaping from the back of his throat. But Regulus is right, James will, unfortunately, take anything he’s given. Even if it means he doesn’t get the luxury of sucking Barty off until he’s coming down James’ throat.
Next thing James knows, he’s being manhandled onto the bed, face pushed down into the mattress, his ass up in the air. He’s exposed, hole clenching around nothing. But he’s desperate, arching his back more to push his hips back, and Barty just chuckles, low and breathy, as he slaps James’ ass. The sound of skin against skin echoing through the air.
James makes a keening noise, squeezing his eyes shut when he feels Barty spit over his hole, circling the pad of his finger over the mess. Willingly, James finds himself opening to Barty, practically sucking his finger into tight heat.
“Eager, aren’t we, baby?” Barty teases, fucking the spit into James with his finger.
“Hey,” Regulus says, and James has no idea what is happening until he hears something hit Barty’s palm and the distinct sound of a cap popping open. Cool liquid drips over his hole and around Barty’s finger.
The thing about Barty is that he doesn’t give two fucks about anything. He doesn’t waste any time or draw it out. Barty Crouch Jr. fucks like he’s on a mission: a mission to destroy James Potter even if it’s the last thing he does.
Therefore, there’s utterly no surprise, maybe aside from the ungodly moan that leaves James’ mouth, when Barty barely takes time to finger James before lining his cock up and slowly pressing forward. It aches, gloriously so. The stretch and burn, and despite himself, James rocks his hips back, whining pitifully.
“Fuckin’ tight,” Barty hisses, bottoming out before slapping James’ ass again.
James buries his face against the sheets, panting into the mattress. Regulus huffs from his position in the corner, undoubtedly stroking over his cunt as he watches Barty fuck James within an inch of his life.
There’s barely any time to adjust before Barty lets loose, fucking James with reckless abandon, with the sole intent of pulling as many sinful noises from the man as possible. It’s dizzying for James, barely able to catch his breath as Barry’s hips snap against his ass.
“B-Barty, fuck,” James curses into the mattress. He kisses his teeth, embarrassed by how good it feels, how rough Barty’s being.
“Reg, baby, doesn’t Jamie look so good right now? Taking my cock so prettily. Do you think he could come just from this?” Barty questions as if he isn’t pounding into James carelessly.
“He can. He has,” Regulus answers breathlessly.
Barty hums, bringing his attention back to James. He leans over James back, changing the angle, and it makes James wail, face hot and sweaty from being shoved against the mattress. It doesn’t get any better, or it does, when Barty grabs the back of James’ head, pushing him further into the soft mattress. James turns into a rabid animal, doing everything in his power to push his hips back, desperate to draw Barty in deeper.
Barty keeps hitting that spot—over and over. Little specks of light cloud James’ vision, barely able to keep his eyes open. Another slap rings through the room, his ass cheek jiggling beneath the force. From the corner, Regulus squeaks, and James can just make out the slight flush on Regulus’ cheeks, hand staying still in his pants.
“Gonna be a good boy and come for me?” Barty murmurs into James’ ear just as he gives a particularly hard thrust, and James loses it.
He doesn’t even see it coming, until he’s already releasing thick ropes of white onto the sheets beneath him, eyes rolling to the back of his head. He doesn’t even feel when Barty moves back, no longer crowding his space. James only comes to when he feels a splash of warmth against his puffy hole. He gasps when a finger drags through the mess, and the surprise only continues when the finger is brought around to his lips, Barty giving him a gentle, “Open up.”
James obeys, parting his lips to allow Barty’s finger to enter his mouth. He’s thorough, sucking the cum right off Barty’s finger like it’s his last meal. An embarrassing breathy moan comes from James, his cheeks flushed and hair a downright mess.
From the corner, Regulus speaks, “Look at you. Behaving so well. Don’t you think this solved all your problems, hm?”
There’s a waver in his voice, and James knows Regulus is beyond turned on at the point. And James is so far gone, all he can think about is getting his mouth on his boyfriend’s cunt before he withers away into nothingness.
Even in James' wrecked state, he can’t deny the satiety he’s feeling. The dull ache in his bones, brought on by the person he’s supposed to hate. Hate courses through his veins no longer, it simply can’t, not when Barty delivered in the way he did.
“Reggie asked you a question. Are you going to answer, or did I fuck you stupid?” Barty taunts, brushing the hair off James’ forehead.
Thing is, James does feel stupid. Completely and utterly stupid, foolish—an imbecile. But he can’t be bothered to care. So, he admits, albeit weakly, “No more problems. ‘M good—we’re good.”
Barty cackles, slapping James’ ass once more for good measure. And James? He sure hopes this isn’t the last time.
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"A Kiss?"
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Sirius Black x Reader
"It's not that you don't like Sirius, you do, that's the problem.
that's why being chest to chest with him in a cramped storage closet is not the most ideal situation for you right now"
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It's not that you don't like Sirius, you do, that's the problem.
that's why being chest to chest with him in a cramped storage closet is not the most ideal situation for you right now. Especially when you can smell his woody cologne, the leather of his jacket, and the lingering scent of the cigarette he smoked earlier.
How I got in this situation? A Marauders prank gone wrong. You never really cared about the pranks they loved to pull because they never concerned you. This one went wrong, very wrong, Hence your current situation.
There were only supposed to be a few fireworks outside apparently, of course you didn't know that when loud popping noises disrupted you in the middle of your walk to charms. Professors all came running out of their classrooms, students were shrieking and ducking down, you were just plain confused because, what the fuck? No really, what the fuck?
You were even more confused when Sirius Black, of all people, came hurdling towards you and virtually flung himself onto of you hurdling you both towards the ground. Narrowly avoiding an off track flaming firework that went off into a dazzling explosion resulting in colorful sparks just mere feet away from you. Covering the hallway in a thick fog that made your eyes water.
The shock of it all made you not fight when two strong hands plucked you up off the floor and pushed you into the nearest storage closet.
When you finally come back to your senses and realize, really realize, that you're practically glued to a guilty looking Sirius's chest, lets Just say you flip out to put it lightly.
"What the fuck was that!"
"Those were fireworks."
"No fucking shit Black, why were they inside?"
You don't hear him sigh as much as you feel the breath softly brush against your neck
"Because Remus messed up the spell that he's been working on for months and gave James the wrong instructions causing the prank we have been planning for months to fall apart. I honestly can't believe them, I for one would have never-"
"Sirius! I Don't care about your stupid prank! I care about the fact that I just got tackled to the ground like I was in a quidditch match, burst both my eardrums from the noise, and went blind for at least 2 minutes out their, and you're complaining about how your prank didn't work? Are you serious right now?"
He smirks, and well you pretty much walked yourself right into the next thing he's going to say. It doesn't make it any less annoying.
"I'm always Sirius" he says with the goofiest, boyish grin on his face, and if it weren't for your situation right now, you probably would have smiled back considering Sirius Blacks smile is as close to a beam of sunlight as humanly possible.
you internally scream and give him a deadpan look. He goes back to looking sheepish.
Now that you are calming down, or at least not absolutely fuming anymore, you get a chance to really look at Sirius. You notice the freckle on his cheek, the slight crease in his eyebrow, the scar on his upper lip. He's very pretty, though you'd never say it to his face. Not willing to inflate is already massive ego.
You find yourself slowing your breathing slowing down to match the breaths you feel him taking against your chest. And god his chest, its firm against your body and now you are picturing all the times you saw him by the lake in the warmer months in nothing but his swim trunks and- god is it hot in here? when did it get so hot?
there really isn't much room in here.
Sirius must sense the sudden shift in the room because he opens his mouth to say something, then immediately shuts it.
"Have you seem Sirius, James, Remus, or Peter? I know they had something to do with this. Once I find them they are dead meat. All of them. Detentions, perhaps for the whole year. Find me immediately if you see them. That goes for all student, If you see something say something! I will get to the bottom of this!"
You feel siariuss chest start to shack against yours and muffled giggles Strat coming out of his mouth until he can't hold back anymore and starts cackling
What are you doing? its like you want to get caught! Sirius be quiet I'm not kidding they are going to hear you!" You quickly give up your antics when you realize they are no use to sirius's implacable case of the giggles
So you take your hand and promptly slap it over his mouth.
His eyes widen, but then go back to their normal devious state of unmistakable mischief and he licks your hand. He. Licks. Your. Hand.
"ugh" You snatch your hand away immediately and wipe it down on his shirt without thinking. The problem with not thinking? You're rubbing your hand that was over his mouth on his chest. You are rubbing Sirius Black's Chest.
When you look back up you expect to see his teasing gaze ready to poke fun at you for touching his "Magnificently toned pecs" but his face is, pun not intended, serious. His cheeks are even tinted a little pink, and that just can't be right because Sirius doesn't blush. He gets flirted with by the hottest girl and boys at school and doesn't even bat an eye. There is just no possible way you could have made Sirius black blush, but yet here you are.
Looking up into his eyes you find him staring right back at you.
"You know your eyes are really pretty up close, its kinda hard to see them from across the classroom in potions" Sirius says quietly, voice almost a whisper
and you practically melt on the spot because that was such a nice thing to say. And he said it to you. Perfectly average you.
"Thank you" you breathed out "your eyes are very beautiful too."
"Are they now?" he smiled and quirked his eyebrow
you roll your eyes, "In that case I take it back-"
"No! You can't just take it back, I'm sorry! How can I make it up to you?"
"Make up what?"
"My awful teasing, and me being part of the reason you had to miss charms class and be stuck in a closet with me for twenty minutes"
"being in a closet with you wasn't that bad but I can think of a way you can make it up to me"
"Anything."
"A kiss?" you whisper
He smiles. "I was hoping you'd say that" and he leans down to softly attach his lips to yours.
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rinbowaman · 1 day
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A Drabble based of the SE7EN series feat. Heeseung x Reader.
Inspired by the anon ask and the heelel bot chat on chai.
Warnings: mentions of murder, car accident, Hell, irresponsible parenting/parent, abortion, smut, oral (male rec.) kinky oral, bow tie, deepthroating, hand job, heelel is being super sexy, face f*cking, cum swallowing, face smacking (not either a hand…)..cursing…I think that’s it. This is inspired by my Heelel bot on Chai….he had the most perfect response to anons ask and it’s been living in my mind, I had to write about it.
You were admiring the mountainous views of the rolling hills, entirely covered in red Lillie’s; the ones he planted in preparation for your arrival. How long had it been? Over a year for sure, but the exact timeline since your ascending to Hell is left pretty much undetermined. There are no calendars, no clocks, no way in telling other than overlooking the great horizon of pitch black, decorated by the stars and planetary systems that are too far to see from the Earths standing. But here, you could see them larger than life. It truly is magnificent sight to see, the earth and its bright green continental regions, the sun orbiting its circumventing route, and above all, over to the northwest of the vast landscape beneath the peaked tip that which you stand on, was the glorious moon, nearly covering the entire sky.
All your life, you were taught that Hell, was a firing raged pit that lay beneath the earth and the universe. An abysmal world that was filled by empty souls and demons of perverse and violent nature. Perhaps the last bit was true, even still without being here, the Prince if Hell was always ridding the underworld of its offensive creatures. But the one thing that shocked you was that Hell, was not an underworld at all. It was always in sight for the entire world to see, in between the Moon, stars, and the Sun. Who knew? It resided within the stratosphere; paralleled with the great satellite, and as high as Heaven. All this time when you gazed upon the moon and the glimmering stars, you were staring into your future home.
“You admiring the view again, darling wife of mine?”
Here he is. You could hear him taking his steps closer behind, closing the distance. Already coming back from demolishing the last creature that bore the fortitude and stupidity in trying to get to you. It could never happen, not with him around. The makeup of your soul, as the Mortal Daughter of God, attracts them—always has since you arrived. But he was always around to make sure that they couldn’t get within one hundred feet away. Always one step ahead with his acute senses and the massively powerful abilities within his form. The fallen angel was second to none other than God himself.
He stands against you, reaches around your head and rests the tip of his finger along the tip of your nose, gently stroking the bridge up and down. His chest presses up against your back, while his pelvis to your derrière. “Who is the prettiest girl in Hell?”
His voice was gentle and playful, though the moment you both engage in the sexual act of brutal breeding and passionate lovemaking, his persona transitions into one of heated rage and toxic dominance, while never losing that insatiable love he has for you. Will always have for you.
Speaking of girls, you wanted to inquire about the newest addition to Hell, the soul of a rather young girl. Younger than you when you were still a mortal, she couldn’t have been more than seventeen or eighteen in age.
“That girl…that we saw the other day at the River Styx, inside the ferryman’s boat—“
You take a pause as he gently clears his throat and breathes out. Not out of nervousness, you would never see that side of him for he never had anything to hide, nothing to be nervous about. He was the King of this world, and he embraced it as much as he embraced his love and adoration for you. “Isn’t she young to be here? What could she have possibly done to come here?”
He smirks as he walks over to his throne. Another moment of storytelling to educate you on the many wonders of Heaven and Hell, and the history that goes along with it. “Hell is not merely just a catacomb that houses those who have committed sins.” He takes his seat and loosely crosses his legs as he pats his lap. “Come here.”
You slowly migrate with the train of your see-through gown trailing behind. You sit, feeling his cold hands through the mesh fabric as he pulls you in, closer to his chest. “Souls will be denied entrance to Heaven for sins they have yet committed. Despite being taken too early as mortals, it hardly negates the fact that had they continued to live, they would have committed certain atrocities—in this case, the girl you saw was bound for Hell.”
He places a wet kiss on your bare shoulder. “It would have been on her 22nd birthday. After engaging in the habitual offense of carousing around, no doubt sharing her flesh with more than just one suitor, she would have drove her steel box into that of a mother and child crossing the street.”
“A—…a car accident?”
He nods. “Yes. If not that, she would have been condemned for disposing the young child already implanted inside her as a result of her indiscretion in taking on multiple partners. She was condemned regardless.”
“You mean abortion?”
He shakes his head as he embraces you, his chest to your back while his hands envelop yours. “No baby. Abortion is something that can hardly be deemed as an unforgivable offense. While it is offensive to my former master, it is one that he can find resolution should the mortal find a way to repent while still living, like many other offenses. For the girl you saw, I am talking of murder.”
There was so much to process, you flutter your lashes in confusion. “Murder?”
He nods in response as he continues to kiss your shoulder. His hand rests against your tummy as he taps his fingers against it. “Yes baby. Murder.”
He sucks on a soft spot in the nook of your neck, the squeezing sound effect drives your mind in circles. “She would have murdered her own baby?”
“Mmhmm.” He hums as he becomes overly preoccupied with licking and sucking onto the skin under the lobe of your ear.
“Why would she do that?” You struggled to speak as he continued to lavish you with his tongue. “Who knows. Mortals have their own minds, for all we know it could have been done out of fear of motherhood, trying to escape the responsibility of her own actions, or to avoid a tainted reputation from her peers. Either way, her actions after the baby took its first breath is enough to anger my former master, and deny her entrance through Heavens gates.”
“Was that why she died so soon? So that she wouldn’t do either one of those terrible things?”
“No baby, you see…” he pauses as he skips his hand under the dainty slit and rests it against your semi-exposed womanhood, causing you to gasp in pleasure. His tongue continued to suck and lick your neck. “Fate is an entirely different venue that is unrelated to the condemnation of one’s soul. Mortals murder, rape, steal, and commit other crimes against God for their own reasons. Sometimes they do it out of redemption or vengeance, which can be more forgiving by Him…but other times…when they do it out of their own twisted pleasure with no righteous meaning behind their damaged mentality…they come here.”
“So what will happen to her? Since she didn’t actually have the chance to commit her crimes, will she pay for acts that have not been carried out?” Half of your statement was whispered out as you felt him trail his kisses up along the grooves of your tendons on your neck. He pecks at your lobe and cheek as the tip of your nose dips into your ear. “She will live a life as a slave to the River forever…without a second chance at life.”
Your head is spiraling and you felt somewhat guilty for feeling the intensity of his love and melting from it during a serious discussion concerning a young woman’s life. “But she won’t be turned into a monster?”
“No.” He whispers against your ear. “I’m not that cruel baby…” he whispers once more as you feel his hips slightly bucking up under your rear. “Only mortals who did monstrous things will stay as monsters in Hell. I won’t subject a lifetime of torture and abandonment to those who are innocent—even those who were bound to do such evil deeds.”
He lifts your thighs and spreads them open, harshly sucking onto your neck. The squeezing sound of his lips suckling on to your skin is over exaggerated as he straightens his poster and leans slightly forward, causing you to reach behind and palm his abdominal area. He reassures your stability but wrapping an arm around your waist. “Do not worry about a soul that is tainted, or in the verge of…she won’t suffer…she will merely be a servant to help cleanse the River Styx under Niki’s watchful eye. You should instead—“
He pauses as he traces a figure eight symbol along your neck. “Be more concerned for yourself.”
He chuckles a grin. His hands grope on to your breasts as he tenderly kisses your cheeks. You take him up on his advice and decide to focus on the current situation at hand, since you were already on cloud nine from the way he touched, kiss, groped, and move along your body. “Can I ask for a favor?”
You feel his head delicately move as he outlines a final eight symbol with his tongue before responding. “Ask anything you want.”
“Would you put a bow on? For me?” You turn your head to the side to face him, resting it against his shoulder. “I want to see my husband in a bow.”
He smirks and releases a small chuckle. You both remained seated, lounged back within his throne, chuckling at the small request. He reaches up to his collar, using only one hand as he loosens the black sash that acted as a tie, with a loose knot. After undoing it, he pulls it out, the sound of the silk material slides from under the collar of his white shirt. Pulling it all the way through, the collar opens up revealing a slight bit of his chest and collar bone as he presents you the sash. “There you go my love. Now you can see your husband in a bow.”
You giggled as you take the sash from his hand, those beautiful black colored fingernails adorning it added a flare of sensual delicacy to the masculine feature of the strong looking, veiny structure. It was androgynous, but more so manly.
“You hold up the sash to your nose, it smelled of vanilla musk, a contradicting scent. “I don’t know where to put it on.” You shake tell him.
He taps against your nipple before tapping onto your rear. “I have an idea, go ahead and stand up. Close your eyes.”
You stand and cover your peepers with both hands. You smile and giggle as you listen in on the sound of his belt unbuckling, his shirt being discarded along with his black coat. “You can uncover your eyes now, darling.”
You shrill out a yelp and immediately cover your eyes back up the moment you unveiled them. There before you was Heeseung sitting in his throne, completely nude. Both his hands resting on the extravagant arms of the chair with his legs completely spread, revealing the glory of his endowed nature. His cock is stiff, proudly perpendicular as it points north with its impressive length and girth exposed, and the lump sack that foundations the size of his magnificent muscle. Around the base of its circumference, was the sash previously in hand. It was now tied into a neat bow, decorating the shaft while the trimmed edges fall gracefully against his balls. “Heeseung!” You gasp out as you giggle while covering your eyes once more, periodically peeking in between your fingers. You blush immensely as he merely sits there unashamed, smirking with a small deep chuckle. A bit of his teeth can be seen by the side grin he displays in his handsomely sly face. “Like my bow?”
You nearly squeal as you felt too embarrassed and shy to inhale the view. “Heeseung what are you doing?” You suddenly feel the sheer force of his power pull you in. “Giving you exactly what you asked for.”
You stumble as the telekinetic force of his ability drags you closer to the throne chair. Your eyes were still partially covered as he begins to pull you in by the waist, noticing that you kept covering them by the palms of your hands. “Now, what was it that I said before—back on the night when we first met…oh yeah.”
His eyes widen as he remembers the line that started it all. “Sit on it.”
You felt the strength of his arm pull you down as your body came into his reach, forcing you to your knees before him, gaining a more magnifying view of his normally hidden features. His hand reaches the back of your head as he pulls you in, gently kissing the tip of your nose with the shaft of his cock. The silk material neatly tied around brushes against your cheek as he steadies you against him. “Show me how much you love my effort baby. Don’t I make you happy?” He taunts out with a malicious smirk.
You cave in as you inspect the delectable muscle in front of you. God, he was so big. How on earth has he managed to fit this inside you all this time? No wonder it always hurt, though it also brought you the greatest pleasure you’ve ever known. You each up and grip the base of its girth as you nod in response. “You do.”
Your voice was soft and nearly a whisper as you spewed your words while pressing your lips against the skin. “Then show me.” His voice was a contrast from yours. It was deep, dark, and sinister with a tinge of gentleness peeking from the calm tempo of his tone.
You grip over the sash ringing around the base and gently impoverish the tip with kisses. “Fuck…keep going, angel-face.”
At his bidding, you not only kept up with your kisses, but you incorporated the smoothness of your tongue along the grooves of his veins as you licked the entire length, too top to bottom. He flings his head back, exposing his entire throat and gasps air as his Adams apple shifts up, then back down when he gulps. “Oh fuck! You’re going to get it.”
Challenge accepted. You felt brazen as he keeps gulping a lump of choked saliva, which gave you the fortitude to go in more vigorously. You insert the tip in, slurping the juices that coated it. Slowly you inserted as many inches you could possibly fit in. Alas, even after taking in a handful of his length, you were surprised to see that it didn’t even cover half of his size. The tip was already reaching your tonsils. Unfortunately for you, he didn’t care.
“You’re going to take all of me in, darling.” He speaks with lazy hooded eyes half shut, creating a super relaxed expression. His hand placed atop your head, he slowly pushes you down. There was so much of him, you wanted to back out. The discomfort feeling of his base growing thicker the more you went down, while the tip of his length reaches the deep ends of your esophagus, it was all too much. You slap your hands on his thighs and prepared to pull yourself away yet his hand kept you steady. You choke on it with tears squeezing out as you begin to sob out and moan in despair. When he suddenly pauses the pushing and coos you.
“Shhh…take a deep breath through your nose baby.” You do exactly what he guides. “You’re almost there. You’re doing so well, just a little more.”
He continues to push your head down and finally, your nose and lips reach the base of his pelvis. Keeping you there for a few seconds, he finally releases, allowing you to slide him out abruptly, gasping for air. Coughing, you hyperventilate as the string of saliva bridges the tip of his shaft to your mouth, which has now become blistering red while your eyes grew puffy and pink from the sobbing. “P-please! I thought I was going to choke to death!” You hiccuped as you begged him with pleading eyes. He responds by leaning over, cradling his fingers under your chin while pulling you in. “Shh-sh-sh-sh-shhhh. You’re fine, and you’re doing good. Take a deep breath and keep going. You wanna make me happy, don’t you?”
His eyes glared with a darkness that was so ferocious. Of course you wanted to make him happy, for many reasons. Whether it would be for the newfound love you were forced to develop for him, or the fact that you wanted to avoid seeing his bad side, you realized that keeping him happy only meant that you’ll experience his love in purity, no matter how rough it may be. He always told you that he’d love you, even if you upset him, so that you never had to worry about him being angry. But honestly, did you really want to see the Devil angry at you? With his he normally was in his performance of lovemaking, did you really want to test the waters and venture into the dark side of his love for you?
“Y-yes…I do want to make you happy.” You murmured out.
“Good girl” he smirks as he leans back into his chair, nodding as he flicks his eyes down to his cock then right back at you, signaling for you to continue. He looked so stern with that expectant look, yet he was so devilishly handsome doing it.
You regain your grip and continue, going slow and steady at first, gradually picking up the pace as you hear him release his perverse growls. “Come here.”
He voiced out calmly as he takes a handful of your hair and poneytail it within his grip. His other hand gently grips the base of his shaft and lightly, he smacks your cheek and lips with it. “Tell me how much you love me.”
The demeaning act creates a tingle within your gut as the harmonious sounds of the hard muscle slapping your skin while his dark voice accompanies it. “I love you—Heeseung!” You gasp out as you leave your mouth wide open to catch the tip each time he slaps it against your face, only for him to pop it out and tap it once more. “You a good girl or a bad girl?”
You catch the tip once more, and just as well, he pops it back out. “I’m good. I’m a good girl.” You mumble as you stick your tongue out and watched as he lays the shaft against it, gently sliding it up and down. “I beg to differ baby…right now, you look like a bad girl. Really bad.”
You shake your head as you stare right into his dark eyes, swallowing half his size inside your mouth. This time it felt less painful, now that you were already broken in. “I’m good, I swear.”
“Show me how good you are.” He huffs as he allows you to continue with your oral performance. You rotate your soft grip on the bottom half while sucking in the top, simultaneously shifting and combining a motion of love through skin and mouth. “Am I good now?” You ask before sticking the tip back in harshly. His grip continues to hold your hair in place, yet becomes loosened as he succumbs to the pleasure of your actions. The strands fall apart and frames your cheeks as the remaining thatch rests firmly in his palm. His head flings back, once again exposing his entire throat and leaving only his Adam’s apple in your line of sight as he gulps out his words. “You’re getting there.”
“How about now?” You whispered as you suck on his balls, resting both your palms on the stone tile, now on all fours before him. “Please tell me I’m a good girl.”
You lick the entire length, as if you were a dog. His dog.
“Fucking close!” He harshly whispers as you kept going, when finally he relieves you of control and takes it all back, by taking you by the hair and cheek, and forcing you to take his entire length down one final time as he releases deep inside your throat. The taste was sweet and salty, and nearly felt never ending as you felt the pumping of veins and the twitching of muscle against your lips ringing around the circumference. “Good girl.” He growls as he finally shoots out the last drop as he slides out of your mouth.
His gentle nature comes back as he caresses your cheek and kisses the top of your head. “Feel like stargazing, beautiful?”
You nod as he fingers the remnants of his orgasm from the corners of your mouth, and gently feeds it in between your lips. “Swallow all.” He gently whispers while chuckling a smirk. Your finger rest along the soaked sash that has now fallen semi loosely, losing its beat form as the bow completely came undone.
“I’m sorry I ruined your tie.” You slightly whined out as you took notice. “It’s okay—“ he responds positively as he takes it and unties his cock. He loops it around the back of your neck and grips the ends, pulling you closer to his cock once more. “It still serves its purpose.”
His eyes darken once more and that glare of adoration, love, and sexual rage returns.
“Wanna see a magic trick, baby?”
You knew there was no way out. If you shook your head ‘no’, it only would have fueled him more to do the most unthinkable, resulting in pain and pleasure that was too much to bear. You nod in defeat.
“Close your eyes.”
You reach up and cover your eyes. An internal frown rests within you.
“Open.”
You drag your palms down slowly and open your eyes. There he was, still entirely nude and…so were you. Your thighs, waist, neck, and wrists all tied with black sashes and bows. “W-what is this?”
He grins evily as he palms the base of his shaft and growls a dark tone.
“My turn.”
@enheene , aiden2001 , heeseung-min , lathan1510 , rayofsunshineeee , @hoyeonheeseung , @rayofsunshineeee , @yohanabanana , @sunoosrightbuttcheek , @jaeneohee , @icydawon , @silcry , @iamliacamila , @nikstrange , @enheene ; @nuriicata , @en-happiness @sacrificeatmeup
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sequinsmile-x · 2 days
Text
Quality Time
She missed her husband, even though he was right there with her.
Part of the Love Languages series
-x-
Hi besties,
This is just...pure fluff really because that is all my brain was capable of after a very busy few days at work.
This is just these two idiots being idiots for each other.
I really hope you like it, as always please let me know what you think <3
-x-
Words: 3.2k
Warnings: pregnancy
Read over on Ao3, or below the cut
It’s late when he gets home. 
He feels the tension in his shoulders start to ease the moment he steps over the threshold into the house, the sense of home washing over him as he closes the door behind him, locking out anything other than his family on the other side. 
He pauses as he turns from the door when he hears the low hum of the television. He checks his watch and frowns when he realises just how late it is, surprised that anyone is still awake. He walks towards the living room, a purpose in his step, and as he gets closer he realises it’s one of his wife’s favourite reality TV shows, something she’d sworn him to secrecy over when they first started dating. He half expects to find Emily asleep on the couch, slumped over with her hand pressed against her stomach after she’d lost the battle against sleep to stay up for him, but instead when he walks in she’d wide awake, her focus torn from the TV as he enters the room. 
“Hi honey,” she says, sitting up a little straighter when he walks over, one of her hands on her baby bump as she kisses him before he joins her on the couch, slipping under her legs as she raises them just enough for him to sit, “You made good time.” 
“Traffic wasn’t bad,” he replies, squeezing her foot, smiling softly when she groans in pleasure, “You didn’t have to wait up.” 
She shrugs like it’s nothing, like she wasn’t just shy of 8 months pregnant and constantly exhausted, “It’s okay, I wanted to see you.” 
He frowns, seeds of concern planting deep in his chest, her tone of voice, the way she was holding herself tightly, both of her hands on her bump as she absentmindedly drew patterns on it. 
“You’re tired. I wouldn’t have minded if you’d just gone to bed, I’ll be here in the morning anyway.”
She scoffs, unable to stop herself, hormones, exhaustion and irritation she knows he doesn’t deserve swirling in her gut, “Yeah, if you didn’t get called away for a case.” 
His concern for her immediately gets worse, the flowers of it taking up all the space in his chest, burning against his lungs as she tries to figure out what is wrong. She’d been okay when they spoke earlier, relieved even when he told her that they were about to fly home. It’s a flash of his past life, a momentary collision of his marriage to Haley forcing its way into his marriage to Emily. 
She’d never had an issue with his job, with their job, and she understood the unpredictable nature of it. Things had been different lately since she’d stopped going on cases with the team, he knew that, and he knew she missed being a part of it. 
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” 
She blows out a breath, embarrassment at her outburst colouring her cheeks, and she shakes her head, “Nothing. Sorry, I think I’m just hormonal,” she flashes a tight smile at him, “Your kid is ruining me.” 
He squeezes her foot again to get her attention after her failed attempt to deflect, his face nothing but kind as he looks expectantly at her, their promise to never lie to each other on the tip of his tongue, “Em…”
She looks down at her bump and clenches her teeth, desperately trying to stave off the tears she can feel pressing at the back of her eyes. Pregnancy had left her on a razor's edge, everything sharp and making her prone to breaking down at the tiniest thing. It was driving her crazy, irritation at herself that only ever seemed to make things worse, her head swimming with emotion she was trying and failing to push down. 
“I…” she says, clearing her throat when her voice wavers, shaking her head at herself as she chuckles humourlessly, removing a hand from her bump to wipe tears from her cheek, “I just miss you,” she says, wiping away another tear. She shrugs as she avoids eye contact with him, embarrassed in a way she doesn’t understand, her love for him overwhelming even after all this time. “That’s all.” 
“Em,” he says softly, moving closer to place a hand on her knee, squeezing gently as she looks up at him, his smile gentle as their eyes meet, “I’m right here.” 
She blows out a breath and rubs her hand over her belly as she feels the baby move, a constant reminder these days that she isn’t alone. She’d spent so much of her life chasing something exactly like this - a family to call her own. She had Aaron and Jack and the baby and she always would. 
She’d never be alone again. 
“I know. I think it’s because you’re going on cases and I’m not. I miss spending time just the two of us - which we never got a whole lot of anyway,” she smiles, an edge of sadness mixed in with the happiness as she reaches for his hand and places it on her stomach where the baby is kicking, “And we’re about to have even less of it.” 
She’d stopped going on cases earlier than she’d originally intended. Pregnancy had been much harder on her than she’d anticipated, the nausea in the first trimester giving way almost immediately to exhaustion when it faded away. She’d wanted to carry on, content to sit in precincts and work on victimology because it made her feel useful, like she was still contributing to the team, but Aaron and her doctor convinced her it was time to stay home just as she turned 6 months pregnant. She hated that they were right, that she felt better for it, and she mostly hated that it meant she saw less of her husband than she was used to. 
Since the start of their relationship, they’d spent practically all of their time together. It was clear from their first date that they were it for each other, a type of pull she knew she’d never felt before, her love for him overwhelming from even before their first kiss. They spent all their spare time together, she slept at his most nights - content to hang out with him and Jack until the little boy went to bed and then they’d get some time alone. Despite initially saying they wouldn’t, they snuck into each other’s rooms on cases before they told the team about their relationship. They were both aware that they slept better with the other there, a type of peace neither of them thought they’d ever experience again. 
She missed him. Their bed felt bare without him, their choice of buying a super king even though they snuggled, more than half the bed empty even with them both in it, feeling all the more absurd when it was just her and her pregnancy pillow in it. Occasionally Jack would sneak in and join her, his small hands on her face as he woke her to tell her he’d had a bad dream. She’d feel guilty by feeling relieved when she had him there with her, the little boy she loved as her own pressed up against her whilst her baby shifted under her skin. 
Aaron smiles softly at her, rubbing his hand on her bump for a moment longer before he links their fingers together and lifts their joint hands to his mouth. He presses a delicate kiss to her knuckles and it gets her attention, her eyes meet his again, and he tucks some of her hair behind her ear. 
“Sweetheart,” he says softly, “I miss you too.” 
Even though it was almost six weeks since she stopped going away on cases he still found himself looking for her, his eyes flitting around a room she wasn’t in to look for her reassurance, for the love she always freely gave him. He missed having her there, her smile sometimes the only good thing that would happen to him on a hard day at work. He found it difficult to sleep in hotel beds that she wasn’t in with him, her weight against his chest, her breath skipping across his neck as she slept, both as essential to him for a good night's sleep as a dark room and a decent mattress. 
She was his safety net. His port in a storm. And whilst he was excited for this next step in their life, close to desperate sometimes to meet their baby, to see the face he’d imagined for months, he knew he’d miss this stage. 
She smiles sadly at him and stamps a kiss against his lips before she rests her head on his shoulder, “Sorry I kind of ruined the mood the moment you got home.” 
“You could never ruin the mood,” he assures her, turning his head to kiss her temple. He tugs her in closer, a tightness in his chest that had been there for days easing now she was in his arms, and he feels an idea start to form, a smile spreading across his face as he pulls back to look at her, “Why don’t we go somewhere? Just the two of us.”
She hums, her eyebrows knitting together as she looks him up and down, “What? Like a babymoon?” 
He frowns, tilting his head as their eyes meet, confusion painted across his face in a way that she finds nothing short of adorable, “What the hell is a babymoon?” 
She chuckles and runs her fingers through his hair, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she tries to tamper down her amusement, “It’s a trip you go on before the baby comes. Pen was telling me about them.” 
He smiles and nods, “Then yes, exactly like a babymoon,” he says, not missing how her smile gets wider as he says it, “We could go to Virginia Beach. Get a rental right near the water. Spend some time just you and me before this little one joins us and life gets a lot busier.” 
She wants to do it more than anything, wants to spend some uninterrupted time away with him, something they hadn’t done since their honeymoon almost 8 months ago, but she sighs, the reality of their lives causing anxiety to spike in her chest. 
“What about work? We’re both taking some time off when the baby comes, I don’t want it to be a problem.”  
Aaron squeezes her hand reassuringly, “Em, we both have enough leave days banked to take a year off if we wanted to,” he says, smiling when she nods, “If you want to do this we’ll do it. I’ll book us a place to stay tonight.” 
She doesn’t have to think about it, doesn’t have to mull it over anymore and she nods, kissing him fiercely as she leans in. 
��Yes,” she says, kissing him again before she pulls away, “I want to go away with you,” her words disappear into a laugh as he pulls her in for a hug, her bump pressed up against his side, as he kisses her temple. She sinks into it, into him and wraps her arms around him, her cheek against his shoulder as she sighs, a relaxed feeling washing over her for the first time in weeks, “If you think about it, it’s perfect timing.” 
He furrows his brow as he pulls back to look at her, curiosity sparking in his eyes as she tries to suppress a smile, a hint of mischievousness in it that never fails to make his stomach swoop, “What do you mean, sweetheart?” 
Her smile only gets wider, “Well you got me pregnant on our honeymoon,” she says, shrugging playfully, “It seems like a nice way to bookend the pregnancy.” 
“Em.”
___
He knows they’ve made the right decision the moment they get to their vacation rental. 
She’s instantly more relaxed than she has been in weeks, a softness to her smile that makes him want to call up the owner of the beach house and offer to buy it off of him. 
“I can help with the bags you know,” she says, her eyebrow raised at him as he gets their bags out of the trunk of their car, her pregnancy pillow tucked under his arm as he shuffles towards the stairs leading up to the house. 
“I’ve got it,” he says, ignoring the strain in his back as he makes it up the stairs, smiling at her when she rolls her eyes. He sets down the cases and crouches down to press a kiss to her bump, “You’re already carrying the most important cargo.” 
She chuckles wryly and runs her fingers through his hair, fighting a smile as he kisses her bump again, “You’re ridiculous,” she says, shaking his head as he straightens back up, her gaze drifting to where her pillow was still tucked under his arm, “If you drop my pregnancy pillow I’ll kill you, and we both know I’d be able to - even if I am the most pregnant person to ever exist.” 
He clears his throat, well aware that whilst her threat was playful she’d be mad if she thought he was laughing at her.
“Yes, sweetheart,” he says, kissing her again before he digs through his pockets for the key to the house. He unlocks the door and pushes it open, his hand splayed on her lower back as he guides her in, “Why don’t you look around, make yourself comfortable, and I’ll get everything in from the car. The owner said his wife would leave lemonade and homemade cookies.”
Her eyes light up and she looks down at her stomach, already walking into the house before she replies, her focus on their unborn child, “Did you hear that, baby? Cookies!” 
When he’s done bringing in their things, the suitcases carried up to the bedroom and her pillow diligently placed on her side of the bed, he finds her on the back porch sitting in the swing, her gaze fixed on the ocean and the seemingly unending horizon. She turns to look at him as he steps out, her smile wry as he unfolds a blanket as he joins her, laying it over both of their laps, making sure her bump is covered, when he sits down. 
“It’s not even cold out,” she says, wrapping both her arms around one of his, her hand squeezing gently at his tricep as she lays her head against his shoulder. 
“I know,” he replies, resting his cheek against the top of her head, “But I’ve got to look after the two of you,” he adds, placing his hand on her bump, smiling at the movement of the baby, something that got no less amazing no matter how often he felt it, “So,” he says, kissing Emily’s forehead before he pulls back to look at her, “We have four days to do whatever we want.” 
She hums and tilts her head to look up at him, the reality of being here with him, the next few days stretched out ahead of them washing over her, “I’d like to say we could have a crazy amount of sex and barely leave the house,” she laments, “But I think all I want to do is nap, eat and sit right here with you.” 
“Then that’s exactly what we’ll do,” he assures her, resting his hand on her neck, his thumb tracing her jawline, “As long as I’m with you I don’t mind what we do,” he says, leaning in to kiss the tip of her nose, “And, I have it under good authority that a restaurant just down the street has to die for mac and cheese and they deliver.”
She moans, the sound turning into a delighted laugh as she closes her eyes, “You really know what a pregnant woman loves to hear.” 
He hums, kissing her forehead before he lets his hand fall back to her bump, “Maybe I just really know my wife.” 
She can’t explain the feeling that swells in her chest, threatening to pull her under as tears press at the back of her eyes. It was moments like this, moments when it was just him and her and their love for each other when she let herself feel the happiness she never thought she’d get, let herself bask in it. 
She wasn’t lucky, this hadn’t fallen into her lap. She’d fought for this. Fought to get here and sometimes she’d lost, tripped and fell as the battle seemed too much, but she’d made it here. Made it to him, and he’d done the same to make it to her. They’d endured so much apart, but she knew whatever came next, the good and the bad, they’d face together. 
She cups his cheek and rubs her thumb back and forth over his skin, “You’re the love of my life, you know,” she says, her cheeks warm with love and a hint of embarrassment, “I can’t imagine wanting to do any of this with anyone else.” 
“You’re the love of my life too,”  he says, and he places his hand over hers on his cheek and leans in to kiss her, “I can’t imagine doing it with anyone else either,” he says, frowning at himself when he says it, realising it sounds clumsy because he had done it with someone else. 
A shaky breath escapes him, her admission not new but unexpected in the moment, their conversation about her favourite pregnancy food suddenly turning into more. He loved her so much it hurt sometimes. It was different to how he’d loved Haley. They’d grown up together, had initially grown together and then apart, both of them still in love with a version of themselves that no longer existed. He and Emily loved each other for who they were, for what they’d gone through, and he knew he’d have it for the rest of his life. 
He sighs at himself and shakes his head, “I mean-”
“I know what you mean,” she says softly, cutting him off as she presses her thumb into his lower lip, “I’m glad we came here.” 
He rests his forehead against hers, “Me too.” 
They sit there for a few moments in silence, the only sound the waves crashing against the shore in the background. The moment comes to an end when her stomach audibly makes a noise that makes them both laugh, the baby almost moving in tandem. 
“I think baby wants some of that mac and cheese,” she says, leaning into his palm when he wipes away a stray tear that had escaped her lashline. 
He chuckles, pressing a kiss against her lips before he kisses her bump. He stands up to find the stack of take-out menus the owner had left out, but she stops him, her hand tight around his as if she didn’t want him to go, “I’ll be right back.” 
She sighs and relents, letting go of him before she winks at him, “Make sure to bring me some of those cookies on your way back.” 
“Anything you want, sweetheart,” he says as he steps back into the house, “Absolutely anything.” 
-x-
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Hyena
Summary:The laugh of a hyena scared you more than Sukuna
Type:Scenario:??:Sukuna & M!Reader
Version:Jjk
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~
Not many have the guts to look Sukuna dead in the eyes, so when you, a simple man, held his gaze with a glare, he was a bit amused. You were bloodied and refused to die apparently- but you weren't scared.
"Your brave, is it the adrenaline?" Sukunas mocking laugh only made your glare harden.
It wasn't the adrenaline. The only reason you were holding his gaze was because your adrenaline had run out already. Your heavy breaths showed it. The sickening crunch of flesh and bone under your feet as you stepped to the side made your stomach twist, threatening to make you vomit right there.
Sukuna stepped closed, his loud footsteps mixed with the flesh squelching under his foot made you tense. Sukuna leaned down, tilting his head to see if you were faking your toughness or not. Sukuans large hand gripped your jaw, forcefully tilting your face to try to fish out the fear. He could sense it, he knew you were scared, and it amused him how much you tried to hide it.
Sukunas laugh mixed in with another one, causing him to stop and look around. It clearly wasn't human, but nothing else was around. When he looked back at you he smirked. You were terrified, cold sweat starting to form as a shiver went down your spine.
Another laugh. One Sukuna couldn't tell what it was.
"You know who's laughing?" Sukuna let go of your face, watching as you slowly turned- he'd never seen a human so horrified of something that wasn't him.
"That isn't a who... i-its an animal...Hyenas" Your broken voice shocked Sukuna, a simple Hyena scared you that much? "You...you brought them here"
Sukuna looked at where you were looking at, eyes widening as a few hyenas started sniffing the dead bodies.
"You gave them a feast..." If he gave them a feast, why are you scared? Sukuna looked down at you, not fully understanding your fear. "I-If your gonna kill me do it now! I-Id rather you kill them than those Hyenas tear me to shreds!"
Sukuan was amused by this, finding it funny that you were now begging him to kill you. He hummed, looking up at the hyenas that were starting to feast on the dead bodies. Sukuna tapped his chin, pretending to think about it before grasping you and yanking you towards him.
"No," Was all he said before starting to drag you with him.
Sukuna needed some new entertainment, and you seemed perfect. Why would he waste such a perfect opportunity?
~
[A/n:I don't even think Hyenas are in Japan lol, I just love hyenas, those freaks are amazing. I hope you enjoyed]
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ellecdc · 1 day
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Mother, serious question mainly for my own self-esteem 😮‍💨😅
How do you think the boys (any of them really) would view a partner with like all sorts of facial piercings and like rat tails in their hair and funky colors(truly best describes as a queer little gremlin lol). Cause I know Marlene and Sirius have an alt rock aesthetic (I don't think I spelled that right) but as much as I love these characters I never feel like I would have fit in with them if I was really there ya know?
Idk it's kinda stupid but just curious on you're thoughts on this. They're just so cool and I would hope they would like me enough to at least be my friend if they were real 😮‍💨😖
okay first of all, love the title queer little gremlin; let's all capitalize those letters and add them to surveys when they ask you how you identify plsss??
Here's my take:
James:
I love (and follow religiously) the headcanon that James is pansexual but I believe that expands beyond just gender identity, if that makes sense?
It doesn't matter if you're male or female or anywhere in between or beyond or both or all
and I feel like it doesn't really matter what you look like to him
I feel like he loves people for their hearts, their minds, their interests, etc
I feel like he'd maybe be worried because....those had to hurt??? you do that on purpose? doesn't it hurt terribly? his poor sweet angel????
I also see him as the type of bf who would be like "oh! are we changing colours? which one's? can I help?" and will dutifully like, adorn gloves and sit in the bathroom breathing in dye fumes and chatting away with you while the two of you talk about everything and nothing - I think he'd love spending that time with you and it would be special bonding time
(also, have you seen the James fan art with him with a nose ring??? fuck me sideways)
Sirius:
you're so right re: alt-rock aesthetic etc
I think he'd find the facial piercings awesome tbh, you might even have inspired him to get one or more of his own
I think he'd make it almost a competition of who can dress the most grunge that day hahaha - but the two of you would make quite the couple
also? you look like the kind of person his posh, prissy, stuck up parents would hate seeing him with - that's totally a bonus
I see this guy as someone who loves hair care and would be horrified at how much/often you change your hair colour and would insist on helping you/buying the more expensive products/ensure you're doing it right to save your hair from too much damage
that's the only 'problem' I see him having
Remus:
idk, I kind of see him a little bit like James tbh; looks would be a little less important to him? like he doesn't care how you express yourself in terms of style and clothes
what would be important to him is that you're kind and patient, that you're openminded and considerate of others
I mean...he's littered with scars, is he not? He doesn't exactly look "normal" (derogatory) and would probably feel very similar to what you've described; like he doesn't feel he particularly 'fits in' with his friends
I see him having like, not long hair but like a decent head of curls, and he'd totally love if you braided a few little pieces of his hair like your 'rat tails'
I think he'd find the hair fun; you'd show up one day with new colours and I could see his face lighting up like 😃 "that looks great love; so fun"
Regulus:
he's tricky because he's so posh and stuck up lmfao
BUT
people also ship bartylus and I see so much Barty fan-art somewhat similar to how you've described yourself and if Reg likes Barty - he'd certainly like you too
Barty:
as mentioned above, I could totally see him having like a green streak in his hair or something
perhaps some piercings (I think he'd get piercings down below.....), tongue piercing, nose piercing, eyebrow piercing - I feel like he'd be down for it all himself, so he wouldn't mind it on you at all either
and again, as a guy with daddy issues, he'd be a lot like Sirius and think the better chance he has at dating someone who would sooooo piss of his dad - the better!
thanks for your ask babes <3
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