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golbrocklovely · 6 months

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cultish love // colby brock

A/N: first off, so sorry for this being so late, i had a lot of things i had to edit about this fic. also this is my longest fic ever ! like the other fic before this, this is a AU version of colby… where he, you guessed it, is a cult leader. and he is also corrupt (but like aren't all cult leaders). again this deals with some possible heavy themes, so give a good read of the trigger warnings before reading ahead. i've always joked about colby being able to lead a cult, and that's basically where this idea came from. this fic also took a turn i wasn't expecting, but i like it anyway. also the first half is written as a journal entry (all italized) and then the rest is an actual fic (not italized). lmk what you think, and happy haunting !

prompt: you're a journalist, and your next big story is on the 'empathic love' cult, led by none other than colby brock. this cult is not known well, but you are getting a first hand look at them and what they do. and quickly, colby takes a liking to you. || fem!reader x AU!cult leader!colby brock

trigger warning: SMUT, no actual sex but you do get mentally fucked (it will make sense in the story), cult vibes all around, love bombing, cursing, supernatural powers, colby is very intense and kinda scary but also still his charming self, slight dubcon similar in vain to sam's story - you never say no outright, but you do have general feelings of 'wtf is this, idk if i like' so if that's too much for you, feel free to read something else :), colby's aura is crazy good at giving you visions, strangers-to-soulmates?? don't know if that's a tag lol, also…. colby's technically bisexual in this????? but like barely

word count: 8610

I've been a reporter for only five years, and this story.... it could make or break my career. Cults aren't as prevalent as they once were way back when. They still exist, just in the shadows. A lot quieter on most fronts. Usually disguised as a business or religion, for tax reasons of course. But this cult, Empathic Love, is unlike any cult I've heard of.

Of course, they don't call themselves a cult, but that's what they are. How else would you describe a bunch of randos following one man around wherever he goes?

They only started so many years ago, right before I graduated university. The main founder, Colby Brock, is a pragmatic individual, according to his followers. The cult began blowing up in my town a little over two years ago, and now people flock from all over the world to visit the Love Compound. You would think it's Disney World the way people grow excited about it.

But I am here to get to the truth of this cult. What is their motive? What are they planning to do? Will this be another Waco or Heaven's Gate? What sinister beliefs hide underneath the modern-day hippie aesthetic they show?

These notes will document everything I experience for the next couple of days. And in case I go missing, these are my proof of who's to blame.

I don't think it will go that far, but you can never be too sure.

~~~~

Day 1 - Investigation

I'm still incredibly surprised I was allowed to come onto the Love Compound. The leader himself apparently reached out to my boss and told them that they wanted someone to come down and interview the group. They allow visitors from time to time, "new recruits" as some of the townspeople call them, but reporters have never been allowed in. Not once. Until me.

Driving up to the compound was nerve-wracking. I never imagined I would be nervous; I've interviewed plenty of criminals in my years, have done full blown investigations into scary, horrifying crimes. But something about this place freaked me out. Partially because I didn't know what I was getting into. But another part of me, and I will never admit this out loud, felt... at home.

The only promise I made to myself was I wouldn’t drink any kool-aid while there. So, I plan to stick to that. Pretend my previous statement never existed.

I was greeted by a beautiful woman when I got there: Avery. No one went by last names. And some apparently changed their names altogether, which was not surprising. My guess is there were most likely criminals hanging out amongst the group. But I had no proof of that, just a hunch. It easily could be a safe haven for those wanting to escape whatever life they had before.

The compound was three Victorian style mansions connected to each other and had a decent size farm attached - about 222 acres. Avery told me about all of the vegetables and chickens they farmed. Everything was organic and used up as often as possible. Anything that couldn't be eaten or produced too much for the only 100ish people in the compound, was sold at the farmer's market or given away to the local food bank. Avery explained to me very clearly that everyone in the compound chipped in one way or another. Some still worked normal jobs, but just lived here with everyone. But she noted that Colby hoped in the near future no one would have to work at all and they would be self-sufficient in a couple years.

A cult with future plans? Almost unheard of.

I told Avery that I was given an all-access pass to ask anything I wanted to, and nothing I asked could be ignored or deflected. She agreed to an interview. I recorded all of it, but here are the highlights of what I gathered.

I asked her why Colby was such a secretive man. There were very few photos of him that did exist out there, but all that was rumored about him was his alluring eyes and generally attractive presence. She agreed that he was handsome, describing his as having "ocean blue eyes" and his voice was to die for. "Deep and arousing", as she explained.

I noted that she seemed almost lost in thought at the idea of him, like she was envisioning him directly in front of her. Strange behavior; but not for a cult follower. Many end up falling in love with their leader, believing they have a genuine relationship with said person.

I bought up the name of the group, Empathic Love, and said it felt a little too inviting. She laughed and told me that it was right on the money - the best way to describe why everyone was there. She expressed to me that so many of Colby's followers wanted peace and love and light, and that being in this group felt like that. It was rewarding to be surrounded by those that cared and wanted to see each other succeed. Life outside the walls of the compound was rough, scary, draining; but inside, it was all love.

Call me cynical, but I don't believe that for a second. It took all the strength I had to keep from rolling my eyes at her. But I could tell from her voice, her motions... she was telling the truth. Well, her truth.

I wanted to know what brought her here, so she spoke of her previous life. She was abused growing up, moved around a lot in foster care. She was almost homeless, and then one day she ran into Colby. He had just begun the Empathic Love group, and she just knew she had to stick with him. Her life immediately turned around the moment he was in her life. The adoration in her eyes told me a different story, so I pressed her - "are you and Colby... together?" She smiled and said no, but she knew that they were life partners before, just not currently.

Oh... so it's one of those types of cults.

She said that Colby doesn't have a second in command, wife, girlfriend, whatever. Everyone is equal and heard. He's just the face of the group, which is a bit ironic given even I have no clue what he looks like. I knew he was young, in his mid-20s. But other than that, no idea.

I needed to know, why stay? What keeps you here? A dreamy look came over her, like she had said this a million times before: "Colby. He is love, and that's all anyone could ask for."

Chills ran up my spine at the tone of her voice. It was dull, and her words sounded like a mantra, the way she said them so easily.

I wrapped up my interview with her, quiring if I was allowed to interview others. She said yes and began sending over random people one-by-one to me.

If I hadn't gotten chills from her first, I would have from everyone else. Something about seeing everyone saying similar things, smiling happily, like the ship isn't sinking around them was eerie. It made my stomach churn when I would ask questions I already asked Avery, and get almost the same speech back.

I interviewed about 15 people. All variety of ages and genders. I suddenly realized that there were no children around, and everyone was over the age of 21.

Consenting adults… minus the supposed brainwashing.

A couple of the interviewees stuck out to me:

Penelope, 25. Her upbringing was similar to Avery's, but she still kept in contact with her family. Apparently, she wasn't the only one like that either. Many still kept in touch and even visited their loved ones. I asked her to describe Colby, tell me anything about him. She giggled, almost like a schoolgirl, and began to weave such a story about him. He was kind and caring. His smile was contagious, just like his laugh. And his singing voice was fantastic. She talked about him like he was a boy band member, and she was his biggest fan. I asked her to give one word to describe him, and she said "Love. He is love, and that's all anyone could ask for."

Greg, 36. He had fallen into rough times, and desired a fresh start. He had heard about this group online, and figured checking them out while he was in town wouldn't hurt. And that was a couple years ago. I wondered why he didn't feel weird listening to someone that was younger than him, and he shrugged. It was nice not having eyes on him. He loved being in a wallflower, and he believed that Colby deserved all the love he got from everyone in the group. Every ounce he got was ten-folded back into the group. Greg had never felt so connected to a group of people and he knew it was all thanks to Colby. "He brought love into my life like I never have had it before. Because that's who he is: love."

Heather, 29. She mentioned how for most of her life she felt like shit. Her confidence was at an all-time low when she met Colby. He encouraged her to keep at it, to love herself and find happiness everywhere. And by spending more and more time with him, she did. She has never felt more confident about herself, her life, her direction, and Colby is the reason for that. The tone that took over her voice when she bought him up was odd. It was very similar to a partner describing the love of their life, almost like wedding vows. I asked her haphazardly about her love life, how that was going for her. And she told me she had been on many dates - something she never used to do back when she was younger or before Colby. But she did note that regardless of who she ends up with, she knows that a part of her heart will always belong to Colby. They were connected, forever. "Love and light and happiness is what I desired, and I got it - all because Colby exists in my life now."

It felt like I was getting nowhere with some of these interviews. Many said the same thing, Colby being love and light and blah blah blah. I wanted someone that wasn't gonna just quote to me whatever mantra he made them learn. And luck was on my side, because I was able to interview their newest member, Ash. They were 23, and very beautiful. There was an almost smugness about them, like they knew they were the shiny new toy on the block. The confidence only a young 20-something year old could have.

I asked them, point blank, about Colby. Be brutally honest. They told me he was hot, and that's what drew them to him. They liked the idea of living in a group setting, especially since they grew up with many brothers and sisters. They liked helping out, and they liked knowing that Colby was keeping an eye on them the most recently. I then followed up with how long it took for them to join the group. "Three days. That's how long it takes for everyone."

I questioned them about the "Colby is love" thing, and they agreed it was a bit strange, but they couldn't help but feel the same way as everyone else. They were like a moth to a flame when it came to him. Everything about him was hypnotizing, entrancing. It was like staring at the sun; even though you knew to look away, you just couldn't help it.

Then I had to know: were they sleeping with him? Most of these cults feed off of the leader fucking every person they wanted to and leaving other members high and dry. But for some reason, it felt as if Colby was sleeping with everyone with the way they all talked about him. Ash dissented, saying no one was sleeping with him. He didn't sleep with any of his followers. But they all shared a deep, sensual mental connection with him. They felt like, sometimes, he was in their soul. And that sensation alone was euphoric, bordering on orgasmic. They also knew that in another life, they would have been together, similar to what Avery said.

It was then I knew that this group was clinically insane, or just really infatuated by what Colby was selling. It had to have been some crazy brainwashing. But it was odd; people were allowed to leave, to see loved ones, to have lives outside of the compound walls. Hell, some had dating lives that included those not here! That's unheard of, and completely stupid on Colby's part if he wants to keep things going.

A cult leader that wanted to watch his world implode.... I had to meet him. I had to meet the myth that was Colby Brock. And tomorrow I get my chance to.

~~~~

Day 2 - Interview with Colby

I feel the need to explain that these are my notes, not really meant for anyone else to see. And really, the only reason anyone would be seeing this is if I disappear or got murdered.

So, I say all of that just so I know, for myself, that this is a safe space for me to express my truest emotions and thoughts after interviewing Colby.

And all I can say, honestly, is that... I get it. I understand it now.

I felt my nerves hit their break last night before going to sleep, unable to stop my mind reeling from what was to come. I ended up bringing along a bodyguard, or really a photographer. I had known Trey since I started working as a journalist, and I knew I could rely on him to get us out of the Empathic Love compound if anything went south. I wasn't sure what I was up against when I went to interview Colby, but God... I didn't think I was so underprepared.

I met him in his office, Avery walked me over to it. It was up in the attic of the third house. It overlooked the entire property with wide windows. For an attic, I expected it to feel dark and dusty, but surprisingly it was light and airy. Almost like being out in the woods and taking a deep breath.

Colby was sitting in his main office chair. He spun around to see us, a light smile on his face. I'll be honest - I was taken aback by his beauty. I understood Ash's whole spiel about him being attractive and looking at him was like looking at the sun. It was intense. He was intense. His blue eyes bore into me, almost like they could see through me. I felt chills, but they weren't of fear. It was out of... excitement, of awe.

He greeted me, giving me a warm handshake. I hate to admit that I almost blushed at the sound of him saying my name. I had to take a couple deep breaths before starting. Avery left the room, and Trey sat outside the door, in case of backup.

I recorded our interview, knowing that I couldn't keep track of everything he said. But listening back to it now, his voice.... it's like a song. A beautiful, spellbinding song. I could almost fall asleep to it....

I asked him about his life, and how he came to be a leader for a group like Empathic Love. He spoke of his upbringing lightly, barely scraping the surface. He talked about growing up pretty normally, having a loving family, a great friend group, and then one day realizing that he could make a change in the world. That many people loved him and loved being around him. And that's when he knew that if he could make their lives better, he would. So, he started Empathic Love. Originally, it was just gonna be a safehouse for those that needed it. But then more and more people joined and suddenly, it grew into what it was today.

I asked where his family was now. "In Kansas," he told me. He said nothing further than that.

He humbly spoke of all the love he received from his followers, or his "friends" as he put it. They all cared about him in a way that he only wished he could return tenfold. I questioned him about the whole "Colby is love" thing. "How come everyone says almost the exact same thing, like they've been brainwashed into saying it?" He didn't even trip over his words as he spoke matter-of-factly to me. "I didn't come up with that phrase, they did. You would have to ask them. I take it as the highest form of a compliment, truly. I'll be honest, it's a bit embarrassing at times when they call me that, but I can't help what they do. I appreciate their love, nonetheless."

I continued asking him about different topics, until finally reaching the one I was most intrigued about. "How many of your followers - excuse me - friends, have you slept with?" He smirked, smirked, at me and said "None. Did any of them tell you that we slept together?"

"No, but the way they talk about you like the sun shines out of your ass does seem a bit odd, don't you think?"

He looked unphased. God, he had an answer for everything. "I'll be honest with you, some of my friends might be in love with me. But I make it abundantly clear that while I love them, and love their love, I don't have feelings for them. I'm still looking for the one."

I remember holding back a glare, "So, you're celibate?"

"Now, I never said that." He let out a chuckle, then his eyes darkened. "Why do you care so much about my sex life? Unless of course, you want to join it."

I tried ignoring his gaze and his words but stuttered through my next question. “Then who exactly is the right one for you, if it's not one of your followers or friends?”

It took him a while to answer, he even closed his eyes for a bit. He sat up once he knew, sauntering over to his window that overlooked it all. "I imagine the one for me is someone that will bring peace to me and my life. Someone that for all my faults, can see who I am truly deep down. She will love me, and I will worship her. I will show her what true love feels like. Our souls will be one, because they always have been."

Something strange came over me. I don't know why I said it, but I uttered, "What about looks?"

Who cares about looks! Why did I ask about looks? I was a serious journalist, not a reporter for Star Magazine!

He looked over his shoulder at me, "Looks aren't that important to me. What matters is mind and soul. Who you are deep down. But if I had to pick… someone like you. I feel someone like you would be a perfect fit around here."

I wanted to give him the sassiest voice and rebuttal I could muster, but deep down I was shaking. Energy raced through my body, like I had been electrified.

He kept his back to me, staring out the window. “I'm not trying to be overly complimentary. I'm just being honest. But I can tell that you would do so well to have us around. To have... me, in your life. I bring a lot of love to people's lives, that's for sure. But I also bring a lot of drive, and passion, and intimacy.”

Intimacy?

“People open up when I'm around. They tell me everything, even things they never dreamt of telling another person. And I allow it, because clearly, they needed to express it. And once they do, it's like the floodgates open. Love and light just start pouring into them, into their life, and it's overwhelming - but so worth it. Doesn't that sound nice?”

I guess so...

“I bring happiness to so many. My friends have told me that they get jittery around me, I'm like a shot of adrenaline. And that energy, that power, courses through them. And when it gets expressed, it comes out in…” He took a long pause, turning back to me. The look in his eyes… I can remember it as if he was still in front of me. “Pleasurable ways.”

I hate admitting this, and it's embarrassing to say it even now, but I felt a jolt of... something, run through me. I won't even say what it was out loud, in fear of never being taken seriously again. But what happened after that, I don't know if words can even express it well.

Colby continued talking, but I couldn't pick up on any of it. He was talking up a storm, but I couldn't help the sensations I was feeling. Even in my wildest of fantasies, I've never felt anything in reality. It was all in my mind. But in that very moment, it felt like it was happening to me.

I felt lips tread up my neck, stopping just below my ear. A hot, low moan breathed into my ear. My spine tingled at the sound, my hands gripping the armrests of the chair. If I didn't know any better, I would think Colby was behind me, making those noises. My hands suddenly felt hands on top of them. My eyes widened, looking down, but nothing was there. I couldn't really move my arms once the invisible hands were there. My whole body felt numb and heavy, relaxed. My mind was the one on edge, worried as to why I was feeling all of this.

I hadn't eaten or drank anything at the compound. Maybe it was being poured into the room by the vents? I don't know, but something was making me feel this way.

The invisible hands drifted up my arms, massaging my shoulders for a moment. My head lulled back, almost hitting the back of the chair. My mind was on high alert, but my body was about ready to fall asleep. The hands relaxed me so much that my eyes began to flutter.

But then... they drifted down my torso. They traced along my neck gently, drawing small, insignificant patterns. The hands grew lower and lower until they finally were on my chest. I felt the hands cup my breasts softly, my breath hitching in my throat. They kneaded my tits gingerly, my nipples hardening in my bra. I bit my lip, praying that I wouldn't make a sound. It was hard not to, especially when the delicate fingers of these invisible hands found my nipples, gently pinching them.

I remember closing my eyes tight. Trying to clear my mind. This wasn't actually happening to me. There was no way. This was a psychosis or a drug hallucination that was happening to me and Colby was doing nothing about it.

One hand drifted down my body, stopping right above my sex. I suddenly became very aware at how wet I was, my eyes widening. I felt a rush of blood flow through my cheeks. I was about to get caught. These invisible hands made me wet, and I couldn't stop them.

And the terrible thing was, I didn't want them to. I wanted them to finish the job. To get me off... in front of Colby. One hand rose back up my body, grabbing my neck and turning my face to look up at him.

A deep voice whispered harshly, "You want him, don't you?"

I didn't say anything, afraid of what would come out. But deep down, I knew.

"Say it, and it's yours. Say you want him. And he'll have you... forever."

I opened my mouth. I felt the words almost leave my lips. I stuttered out something. I closed my eyes, my body feeling high.

And then in a split second, it was all gone. The room grew quiet, and Colby cleared his throat. "Y/N, are you okay? You look flush."

I jolted out of my seat, being able to move freely again. I looked around and realized Colby was sitting once more, staring at me concerned. I finished the interview abruptly, saying I had everything I needed - even though I definitely didn't. And then he uttered words I wish I didn't hear.

"If you want, come back tomorrow. We are having a celebration here. I would love if you came by, even if for an hour."

I nodded, not even really taking in what he said, and left. Trey was confused as to why I bum-rushed out of the room, but I never told him the truth. How could I?

I knew deep down I shouldn't have said yes to go to the party. But getting that footage would be killer for my article. Interviews are great, but a party at a cult compound? That's bound to end terribly (for Colby, but great for me).

But something in me can't shake this feeling that I basically signed myself up for the end. End of what? I'm not sure. But I'll find out tomorrow.

~~~~~~

Stepping back onto the compound made my heart race. I was nervous as all hell, and just wanted this day to be over with already. Today was my last day doing this story. I was counting the minutes to when I could go back to my office and write about how this place was insane, or whatever narrative I planned to write.

I had enough proof that something was up here. All I needed to do was a bit more digging. And during the party is when I planned to do it.

Avery walked up to me, smiling brightly. "Hey, Y/N! How are you doing today?"

"I'm okay. I know it's a bit early, but Colby never specified when the party was going to take place." I replied.

"No, you're totally fine. The party is gonna happen later. Right now, though, we have something going on that you'll definitely want to see." She clapped excitedly.

"Oh? And what is that?" I questioned.

"We are inducting a new member!" she exclaimed giddily. "There's a whole process that we do, and everyone is involved. I imagine that will bode well for your article if you see it firsthand. It's all taking place in that tent."

I stared over at the huge tent, its plastic cover doors strangely inviting.

I hummed, "Sure, I'll be there in a moment."

Avery nodded, turning on her heels and prancing over to the tent, following in other members.

"What's happening in there?" Trey asked.

"Apparently they are inducting someone new into their cult." I informed him.

He blinked. "Group, you mean."

I rolled my eyes, "Yeah, whatever. Make sure to capture as much as you can."

He shook his camera, giving me a wink, "On it."

We both walked in, many members still up and around, giving everyone hugs and chatting. Avery waved me down, patting the seat next to her. I walked over and sat. My body tingled in anticipation. I wasn't sure what was going to happen. My breathing picked up as everyone grew silent, the doors opening. Colby walked in, and people rushed to their seats.

Colby called out, "Hello everyone, good morning."

"Good morning, Colby." Everyone said in unison.

Jesus, that was creepy.

"A lot of things are going to be different today. First, we have guests watching our festivities. Y/N and Trey. Everyone, give them a hand." He gestured to the two of us.

The tent exploded in applause, Avery evening rubbing my back sweetly. It felt like I was being congratulated on something I didn't achieve, my cheeks flushing at the acknowledgement.

"And secondly, sadly, the new member we were going to have decided not to stay." He frowned, his face dropping.

Members gasped, some audible "oh no" echoed around the tent. Colby nodded his head sympathetically. “I know, but fret not. I think this will be a learning experiment for our new guests. We can still do our traditional motions of having someone join us. But, imagine it as if it's a mock ceremony instead. Ms. Y/N, would you please step up here?”

My heart stopped when he looked into my eyes, the first time since yesterday. I glanced at Avery, who grinned enthusiastically. She pushed me out of my seat, my body following her lead. I gazed around, finding Trey, who pulled away from his camera with a concerned look. I stumbled up the walkway, stepping on stage with Colby.

Colby lowered his voice so I could only hear him, moving away from the microphone. "I know you wanted to know about how we induct someone into our little home, so I figured why not use you as an example? We aren't actually inducting you, in case you’re worried. This is just what would happen if you were joining. Are you okay with that?"

I gazed around the huge, white tent, making eye contact with many people in the audience. They all looked so eager, waiting to hear my response. Some were even shaking with excitement.

I stuttered, feeling Colby squeeze my hands to bring my attention back to him, "I-I guess so."

"Fantastic." He turned, still holding one of my hands, "Alright everyone, you know the drill."

The crowd cheered, suddenly many lining up to a microphone at the side of the stage. Colby lightly pulled me to a cushioned throne, sitting me down. "So here's what's going to happen. People are going to come up to that microphone, and they are going to give you plenty of love. Genuine love. And then the next person will go, and so on until everyone has spoken."

"Everyone here? Like, all hundred plus of you?" I whispered.

"Yes. It's gonna be a while, so get cozy." He laughed, rubbing my shoulders.

Time felt frozen as slowly everyone came up and said something nice about me. Some were quick, mostly just commenting on how nicely I dressed or how the stories I had covered in the past were interesting and thoughtful. But others, it's like they could see into my soul and point out the exact thing I was insecure about. Everyone was complimentary and it was nice, but exhausting.

The line had dwindled down, and the next person to speak was Avery.

She stepped up the microphone, giving me a huge smile. "Hi, Y/N. I know we don't know each other that well, but I feel like I've known you my whole life. These couple days of getting to know you, being interviewed by you, have just been the highlight of my life. You are such a lovely presence to be around, and you deserve all the success you've gotten these last couple years."

Lots of people in the crowd nodded, agreeing with Avery. She continued, taking a deep breath, "I wanted to add - you are so deserving of love. You are easy to love too, and I hope that you are surrounded by people that make you feel that way. I know that this is just a mock ceremony, but I truly believe you would be such a great addition to us. I know you don't trust us, but I hope that soon you will find that you have a safe place here. Even if you never come back here again. This is your home now, and forever will be."

My chest heaved suddenly, tears welling up in my eyes. What the fuck is happening right now? Why was I crying at what she said? Sure, it was sweet and kind, but... how did she know I needed to hear that?

I turned my head, wiping the tears before anyone could see them fall. The crowd clapped as Avery left, going back to her seat.

The last couple people were a blur, my mind still hanging onto Avery's words. Suddenly, a hand was placed on my shoulder, jolting me out of my thoughts. I gazed up, seeing Colby's beautiful face staring down at me.

"The ceremony is done. Now, time to party."

~~~~~~

It had been a couple hours since the ceremony, my body feeling almost numb but jittery all at the same time. It was hard to shake all the love and words that were thrown my way today. Sure, some were probably just lying and saying random things because they had to, because they were conditioned to. But it freaked me out how some just... hit the right spots, knew my insecurities.

The party itself was fine. Two of the houses had parties happening in them, and since all three houses were connected, you could leave one and walk into another. There was a dancefloor full of people, and multiple fully stocked bars. Tons of food was at each table. It honestly looked like an adult prom. But I wasn't in a partying mood. Trey, on the other hand, was enjoying himself immensely. Girls and guys surrounded him, laughing at his jokes and bringing him plates of food and wine. One girl kept rubbing his thigh, staring at him longingly.

I wanted to leave. I had had enough of today, and I just wanted to be as far away from Empathic Love as I could be. I decided fresh air was what I needed, so I got up and slid out the back door of one of the houses, taking a deep breath. There were still too many people around, but I noticed the last house, the one with Colby's office in it, had no lights on and no one around it. I walked through the yards, stopping once I was by the back porch of the third house.

I sighed, leaning back against a railing. I could still hear the party going on, almost getting louder now that I wasn't there. I shook my head, feeling overwhelmed.

“Hey, Y/N. Fancy seeing you here." Colby's voice broke through my thoughts.

I exhaled. “Hi, Colby.”

He cocked his head, “Are you doing okay? You seem... upset.”

I felt this sudden rush of anger, knowing in reality he was to blame for all of this. “No, I'm not doing alright. I want to go home, I'm extremely overwhelmed by this party and all the people around here. That ceremony was too much for me to deal with, and the only way for me to get out of here is Trey and he's getting rubbed down by your followers!”

He took a step back, putting his hands up defensively. “Woah, that was a lot. You must have needed that release.”

I glared, “You think?”

“Look, I get it. It's a lot to take in. I myself don't love going to all these parties. It can be really overwhelming and if I'm honest, it gives me a lot of anxiety,” he admitted casually.

“You get anxiety?” I scoffed, “How? Everyone here loves you.”

“I know. That's the stressful part!” He sat on the railing, turning to me. “I'm the leader of this family. I have to make all the right decisions, and sometimes that means upsetting some of the people closest to me. Not to mention, so many eyes are on me, and it's just all too much sometimes. Even if you think this group is a cult, I still care for everyone here. I make sure they are fed, have a job, and have a life outside of here. And that's a lot to take on.”

“How do you deal with all of it, then?” I questioned.

“Patience. And a lot of alone time when I can get it - through meditation, specifically,” he laughed. “I was actually going to go meditate before I found you. Would you like to join me?”

I shook my head. “No, I'm good.”

“Are you sure? Look, at the very least, it will get you away from the party and all the noise. You don't even have to join me, you can just... sit in the room with me while I do it.” He argued, shrugging his shoulders.

I gazed at the party, everyone had grew rowdier while we were talking, and I didn't even notice. But my head felt like it was spinning from the noise alone. I sighed, nodding my head. Colby smiled, opening the door to the house, and I walked in first. I followed him up to his office, sitting down on his couch as he sat in the center of the room on the floor.

I raised an eyebrow. “That's where you meditate?”

“Yeah, I know it's a bit silly. But I feel so much more grounded... on the ground.” He replied cheekily.

I snickered, sitting back and watching him. He crossed his legs, resting his palms on his knees. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He took multiple breaths until they were low and shallow. I furrowed my brow, my eyes never leaving his form.

It almost seemed like he was asleep, or in a hypnosis of some sort. He was completely still and silent. A dull glow appeared at the top of his head, growing brighter and larger. I leaned away from him, my eyes widening at the sight. What the fuck is that...?

An aura grew around him, surrounding him completely. He didn't move, unfazed by it. His eyes remained closed, and with each breath it grew.

"How... are you doing that?" I uttered, my mouth a gape.

"Doing what?" He spoke in a monotone voice.

"That... aura. How are you doing that?" I pressed.

“I've always been able to do it since I was young. You can get closer if you want to.” He suggested.

How did he know I was still far away?

I stepped off the couch, moving closer to him. I kept my distance, but the aura was almost pulling me in. It was beautiful, the light reflecting and growing bigger. I was almost engulfed by it, but it stopped right before getting to me. I could feel its warmth, its energy. It was calling to me, beckoning me to step towards it.

The aura wrapped around me, filling me with light and love. Or at least that's what it felt like. I gasped at the sensation, my legs shaking underneath me. I breathed in deeply, my lungs filling up with fresh air. I didn't feel like I was in the room anymore. I felt like I was flying, the world almost zooming around me.

“Let your body relax, Y/N. I know it's so much to take in.” Colby’s calming voice spoke.

I felt my body give out on me, falling onto the soft rug. I laid down on my back, staring up at the ceiling. Visions began to swirl in my mind and around me.

How is any of this happening?

He answered, reading my mind. “Because of me. Because of us. Because of the connection you and I share.”

My body felt very heavy, unable to move even if I wanted to. I could move my eyes, and out of the corner of them, I saw Colby stand up. The aura remained around us, almost engulfing the entire room.

“You know, I knew the moment you stepped foot on to the compound's grounds, you were going to like it here. You were going to stay.” He smiled sincerely, gazing down at my body.

I blinked, confused. “What? I-I don't plan to-“

He cut me off, “This is the final step, Y/N. Everyone gave you love, people celebrated you, and now... I'm allowing you in.”

I wanted to shake my head, but couldn’t. “But I don't want to join.”

He chuckled, “Yes you do. If you didn't want it, none of this would have worked on you. You wouldn't be seeing what is directly in front of your eyes.”

The visions morphed around me, suddenly showing Colby and I. But we weren't us, we were different people, at a different point in time. But I could feel it was us. We were in love, growing a family together. Our lives were beautiful.

What the fuck is this?

“That is our past, or present, or future,” he winked. “The thing is, Y/N, I never seek out anyone. They all seem to find me.”

“That's not true, you emailed my boss about being interviewed.” I remarked.

"Oh, you are so forgetful, Y/N. You emailed us, begging to interview me and anyone else that said yes. I only agreed because I knew you wanted to meet with me. You sounded very eager to join in your email." Colby pulled out a piece of paper, reading from it happily, "Dear whoever reads this, I'm hoping to score an interview with your group, Empathic Love, for an article I am writing. I would love to meet Colby, and really pick apart his brain on why he created said group. Maybe I could even join if you guys win me over. Please let me know if any of this sounds of interest to you. Sincerely, Y/N of Global Gazette."

He leaned down, staring into my eyes mischievously, "Now does that sound like someone that didn't want to be here?"

My heart raced, suddenly scared. “Why don't I remember writing that?”

“I couldn't tell you. All I know is you wanted to be here. And there's a reason for it.” He sat down on the ground next to me. I wanted to get up and run, but my body stayed still, heavy. “Growing up, I realized very early on that certain people just... gravitated to me. A lot of women, yes. But really it was anyone. And not only did they gravitate towards me, they became obsessed with me. At first, I was confused, uninterested in ever going through that. Who wants someone obsessed with them? But then I realized how much good I could do with so many people rallying behind me.”

He continued, “As I got older, my ability, or power, or whatever it is - grew twice as strong. Suddenly, all the people around me followed me, did anything and everything I could ask for. Then, I began getting visions, and I understood why this was the case. Everyone here: we had a past life together. Their souls and mine have always been connected. They find me and then continue to stay. And almost always, they fall in love with me. It's just so glorious.”

“You're insane.” I mumbled.

He hummed, “Interesting, especially since you’re seeing the same things I am.”

It was true. The whole time he spoke, I saw vision after vision of our past lives together. We were always destined to meet, destined to be with one another.

“But the thing is, I know you're different from all the rest. You and I, we are meant to be together forever. You are meant to love me forever, and I am meant to love you. That's why my abilities affect you so greatly.” Colby divulged.

“What if I say no? What if I want to leave?” I grunted, trying to shake free.

“You've had the ability to go all this time. You just don't want to. You know how much love I can give you. You know how much pleasure I can give you as well.” He bit his lip, his eyes snaking up and down my body, “You've known that since yesterday, haven't you?”

Blood rushed to my cheeks, memories of yesterday played in my head.

“And do you know what’s crazy about that? That's not even half the pleasure I can give you.” Colby kneeled next to me, a devilish smile on his lips. His hand lightly brushed my face, cupping my warm cheek sweetly.

A burst of arousal raced through me, my body spasming in ecstasy. “Oh my God!”

“I know, it's a lot to take in. But I just want to make you feel good, darling. You deserve it.” He leaned in slowly, “You are mine, after all.”

"This is what your followers meant by a deep and sensual mental connection," I groaned, feeling hands all over my body, touching me in the most lustful of ways. "You got inside their heads and mentally fucked them."

“...That's one way of wording it. But if they didn't trust me, if they didn't already want me, it wouldn't happen.” He winced playfully, “So in reality, it's your fault.”

“Fuck you.” I growled.

“But baby, that's what's happening,” Colby laughed darkly. “Those hands, those kisses and bites... that's all mine. I can tell you're losing it. You want me real bad, but you don't want to admit it. I get it, you’re overwhelmed.”

I felt like my body was getting electrocuted with pleasure. My hips grinded into the air, needing some form of relief. My nipples strained against my bra, wanting any form of touch. I closed my eyes tightly, embarrassment rolling through me as I felt my damp panties against my sex.

Fuck, he was right. I did want this, and him.

I didn't even need to say it out loud. Suddenly I felt a cock slid inside of me, too easily from how wet I had become. I ripped my eyes open, looking around. Colby was watching me from his chair, smirking.

He palmed his hardening dick through his jeans. “Imagine how much better it would be if I was actually inside of you, filling you up with every. fucking. inch.”

I thought about screaming Trey’s name. Maybe he could help me.

He grimaced, rolling his eyes. “He won’t do anything for you, sweetheart. He joined our group just a couple weeks ago. Right around the time you sent the email. So really, you have all the more reason to join us.”

“Even if I join this cult, I will never stay here. I will leave here and never come back.” I hissed.

“And that is your choice to make. But Y/N,” his gaze lowered at me, his eyes intense. “You will never be satisfied. You got barely a taste of what I can offer you, and you're gonna want it forever. Just like everyone else here.”

“You're a- fuuuuuucckk!” I moaned, the cock inside of me hitting my spot deeper. I caught my breath, glaring at him. “Y-You're a freak.”

“Says the girl almost coming to my invisible dick.” He spat, clenching his jaw.

I bit my lip, annoyed at how right he was. The hands exploring my body gripped my ass, slapping it lustfully.

“Okay, okay. I'll agree with you. I am a bit of a freak of nature. But let's not act like I'm some monster. I let people leave. But they always come back because they choose to. I can't force people that far. Pinky promise,” He stuck his pinky out, and I rolled my eyes defiantly. He huffed, “It's not like this place is Scientology, for Christ's sake. We are love. I am love.”

“You are the most tainted form of love that I've ever met.” I retorted, gripping the rug to hide my building arousal.

He deadpanned, “Ow. That hurt.”

Colby strutted over to me, laying down right beside me. The pleasure grew more intense, my hips bucking desperately. His one hand hovered over me, never touching me. It didn't matter, because having him this close felt like his whole body was on top of mine, fucking me hastily.

“If you allow yourself to enjoy this feeling, you might actually come. Because I won't force you to. I'll just keep you here, for hours, riving in pleasure until your brain melts into goo.” He smirked, “How's that sound?”

"I-I hate you." I gritted my teeth. Why did I feel like I was lying?

"No you don't. But soon you'll be able to admit the truth." He leaned his mouth in close, his voice low and sincere, "I know that this place might not be what you imagined your home to be like, but it is. You will always have a place here. You will always be loved here. And I know that's what you want deep down. To be loved unconditionally. To have every fiber of your being satisfied. And if you let me, I will do that. I will please you every night, however you want me to. But for me to do that, you have to let me in. You have to let love in."

The cock inside of me pounded faster and faster. I could barely think anymore. The only thing on my mind... was him. The lives we had together, the life we could be having. I knew I shouldn't want it, but I did. I wanted him in my life, forever. He was what was missing, and I couldn't live one more day without him.

I mewled loudly, my hips thrusting up erotically. Colby's hand cupped my face gently, turning my head to look him in the eyes.

His alluring eyes stared deep into mine, his jaw clenched. "You will always be mine. I am love, and that is all you could ask for."

"You are love, and that's all I could ask for." I repeated mindlessly, grabbing onto his arm desperately.

His face softened, “That's right baby. You're such a good girl for me. My good girl, forever. You want that, don't you?”

“Yessss, please Colby. I want to be yours forever.” I keened.

"You will be. I promise, you will always be mine." His eyes darkened, the pupils almost completely blown out. "You will never leave."

"I won't!" I trembled, my orgasm building closer and closer to the edge.

“You wanna come, Y/N? Get close for me. Don't I feel so good inside of you? You like when I do this?” Colby's hand snaked down my body, rubbing my clit sensually.

I begged wantonly, dying to come. "Pleaseeeeee! Please let me come! I need it! I need you."

"Of course you do, baby. You and I need each other. Our connection is unlike anyone else's. Tell me the truth and I'll let you come." He leaned in close, his lips brushing against my ear, "Tell me, baby. Say it..."

"I love you," I cried out, right on the edge. I direly wanted him to say it back, knowing it was already the truth.

“I love you too, baby,” he smiled sweetly, kissing my cheek. “Now, come for me.”

Hot, white pleasure shot through my body. I had the strongest orgasm of my life, my mind shattering as I rode every wave of pleasure that went through me. Colby stayed by my side, shushing me as my high lowered down more and more. He kept whispering 'I love you' repeatedly, my mind unable to hear or think anything else after a while.

I blacked out at some point but awoke when my body was lifted off the floor and placed softly into a bed. “Wha... happenin?” I slurred.

“Relax, darling. I just brought you to my bed. Well, our bed now,” he chuckled. “I want you to get your rest because tomorrow is a big day for you.”

“What's tomorrow?” I murmured.

“Your introduction to everyone as my soulmate.” Colby informed happily, tucking me in. “Everyone will be so pleased that you changed your mind about joining us.”

I nodded my head, snuggling deep into his bed. He dimmed the lights, whispering softly, "Welcome home, Y/N."

#colby brock #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fic #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock x reader #colby brock smut #colby brock one shot #colby brock oneshot #golbrocklovely's 13 nights of halloween

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irismoon94 · 1 year

Text

yours alone

Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Chapter One: All You Have is Your Fire

Summary: "Things had been going… surprisingly well in the weeks following the night of Lisa’s party.

Still sat against the entry hall wall, your ruined underwear still in his back pocket, the two of you finally talked through the issues in your relationship as roommates and figured out the necessary compromises you both needed in order to coexist together in a way that wouldn’t end up with one of you behind bars for battery. It’s funny what a little open communication can do for people looking for mutual respect and understanding.

Well, the sex certainly helped too."

Word count: 8.4k

Warnings: Smut, 18+, minors DNI! rough sex, penetration, explicit language, biting, choking, pet names, role reversal, feelings realization, semi-public sex, bathroom sex, praise, vaginal fingering, spit as lube, drug and alcohol use, .

A/N: alright so this obviously took longer to update than I planned, but here's chapter one of Part Three as promised! I really am sorry it took so long, but I promise it'll have been worth the wait and so will be the ending!! I hope this smut is enought to make up for it 🙈

(if anyone would like the link to the video that inspired the scene, send me a DM, I'd be happy to share)

Un-beta'd as usual, feel free to message me any typos or tags I might gave missed, and enjoy!!

Part One | Part Two | Part Three Chap. Two coming soon

Masterlist of my other works

Things had been going… surprisingly well in the weeks following the night of Lisa’s party.

Well, the sex certainly helped too.

Between jobs, school, and the separate social lives, you found yourselves increasingly drawn to one another whenever you were both home at the same time. Meals were shared and you even started to hangout in some of your available free time which, not that you’d ever admit it, had grown in favor of spending it with him over other activities. Most of these occurrences would start out innocent for the most part, but inevitably something would pass between the two of you and someone would say something offhand, and the banter would begin, tension growing higher and higher until you were tearing at each other’s clothes and end with you in a pile of sweaty limbs, bruises and bitemarks covering your bodies.

The dynamic had shifted, that much was plain to you, but part of you wondered how much and what that might exactly mean.

Whatever it meant, you weren’t about to risk losing it.

At least for now.

---

Two months later

It was nearly midnight when you finally got back from a group study session that had run far later than you’d intended, and you were only half surprised to find Eddie camped out in the living room with his acoustic guitar in his lap, picking out a soft song on its strings, a look of concentration fixed upon his face. His brows were knit together tightly as he closely monitored his finger placement, with his tongue poking out from the corner of his mouth, hyper focused on whatever song he was working on learning at the moment. You bit your lips into your mouth to hide the smile that formed, the frankly adorable and entertaining look of concentration on his face a welcome sight after spending dreadfully long hours cramming for your exams.

Slipping your bag off your shoulder and placing it by your door, you headed into the kitchen as quietly as you could so you wouldn’t interrupt him, an effort that turned out to be in vain when he greeted you without looking up from his instrument.

“You’re home pretty late, huh?” he observed, smiling at himself after what you assumed was him playing a chord progression correctly.

Opening the fridge and retrieving a beer, you twisted the cap off and took a hearty swallow of the beverage, groaning in agreement.

“Yeah, midterm prep is really kicking my ass,” you replied, wandering into the living room and dropping into the armchair next to the couch.

Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you let your eyes wander over his appearance, appreciating the peeks of skin his cutout shirt afforded you in contrast to the baggy sweatpants half hidden under his guitar. His hair was pulled up in a loose bun he sometimes wore around the apartment, the look suiting him more than you’d ever freely admit. Some of the shorter layers of his hair would fall free from the hair tie and frame his face in such a way that drew your attention to the strong slant of his jaw and then inevitably down to the column of his throat. Of which was currently sporting a couple of fading hickies that you’d left from your last romp in the bed a few days ago.

Should freshen those up soon, the thought rising to the forefront of your brain before you chased it away with another gulp of your beer, slipping down the chair cushions and closing your eyes to listen to him continue playing.

“Everytime I hear you or one of my friends complain about exams and papers and all that shit, I’m reminded how glad I am that I never decided to go to college. Suffered enough of it with my extra years of high school,” he sighed, strumming a few more notes before letting them fade into the air and setting the guitar gently against the side of the couch.

That caught your attention, the small admission about his past snagging on something in the sludge of your exhausted brain and holding there, begging to be examined.

“You had to repeat some years?” you asked, not hiding the surprise in your voice. In the wake of the budding friendship that had started to grow between you, you’d come to see that despite his choice not to pursue higher education, Eddie was smart. True cleverness and wit hidden beneath the mask of bravado he wore around most, only revealed to those he deemed trustworthy and those who had the patience to wait for it.

“Yeah, senior year. Took me three tries and a lot of cheering and support from my uncle and my friends, but I got there eventually,” he explained, gaze going kind of distant, corner of his mouth tugging down in a small frown before he seemed to shake it off and look over at you, smiling warmly.

Your heart tripped over itself in your chest, fluttering pathetically at something that had no right to make you feel like this. You ignored it as the memory of a particular photo from his room came to mind at the mention of his friends.

“How is your uncle?” you asked quickly, changing the subject as you decided that maybe you weren’t feeling quite brave enough to learn any more of Eddie’s past in your current state, exhaustion and partial inebriation weakening your defenses more than you liked.

Something seemed to sharpen in Eddie’s eyes at the redirection but it vanished again as he settled back into the cushions and stretched his legs out, mirroring your posture. And when he lifted his hips ever so slightly and spread his legs, you felt your senses sharpen in response, recognizing the game had begun.

“Wayne’s good, yeah. Visiting his hometown with his old lady down in Tennessee, showing her the mountains and waterfalls,” he told you, sliding his palms up and down his thighs, the movement pulling the fabric across his lap taut. You tried to maintain eye contact, but your peripherals were enough to catch the outline of his dick come into better definition, already starting to harden.

Your mouth went dry and it was all you could do not to choke when you drained the rest of your bottle in order to wet it again, squeezing your legs together as your cunt throbbed in anticipation.

“That's good to hear,” you said, smiling cooly as the alcohol began to buzz in your head. “He’s a great guy. Deserves good things.”

“He really does,” Eddie agreed, regarding you with heavy lidded eyes. “How about you, Princess? How are you? You’re looking a bit warm there.”

Your breath hitched as his eyes trailed down the slouched length of your body before flicking back up to your face, unmistakable hunger in their dark depths.

Leaning forward, you deposited your empty bottle onto the coffee table, sliding a coaster underneath it as an excuse to use the extra seconds to try and gather yourself.

“Just the booze, you know how it makes me all flushed.”

“You sure about that, Princess? Nothing else bothering you? I only ask because you’re looking a little tense too. I could give you a massage if you like? Help you get some of those kinks out,” he taunted in a low rumble, practically purring.

You let a couple beats pass between you before you answered, dropping the facade for another.

“Okay,” you said bluntly, grinning inwardly when his brows disappeared under his bangs as you got up and moved over to him, sitting astride his lap. “What would you do then, if I asked, Puppy? Tell me.”

You watched as he processed your words, grabbing his hands as he tried to place them on your hips.

“Nuh uh, just tell me first, and then we’ll see if I want your help.”

You could feel his dick twitch where it was trapped underneath you, your core tightening in response as well.

“Would start off easy first, work on your neck and shoulders, see what kind of pressure you liked,” he began, voice gravelly as he breathed heavily under you. “Get you nice and relaxed.”

You rolled your neck and shoulders, putting on a show of how tight they felt as you stretched the sore muscles and let a tense moan slip out from the strain of it. Eddie’s eyes widened a fraction at the sound, his nostrils flaring while you arched your back on another stretch that had your pussy pressing against his erection harder, grinding against ever so slightly to tease him with friction.

“That does sound nice,” you considered, finally placing his hands on your hips and squeezing them, but still not letting go. “What else?”

“Would have you lay face down on your bed so I could do your back next. Shirt and bra off, maybe your pants too so I could work on the rest of you if you wanted. Full body massage,” he described, hands kneading and squeezing your hips as you started slowly rolling against him, building the friction you both needed.

“Mhm, very good. Keep going,” you instructed, letting go of his hands to pull your shirt off, tossing it next to you on the couch.

“Get you all loose and relaxed like I said I would, eating up all those little sounds you’d be making, every sigh and moan. Make you feel so good. Would probably be hard as a rock by then too. But I wouldn’t touch you anywhere you didn’t ask me to. Not until you tell me to.”

“And what would you do once I told you I did?”

Testing the waters, he slid one hand up to cup your breast through your bra, waiting to see if you’d pull back again. You just smiled down at him, saying nothing as you waited for him to continue.

“I’d turn you over. Wanna see your face as I touch you. Tease you a little, play with your tits, your stomach, everywhere but where you'd want me to touch except the one play you’d need me to.”

You mewled softly at the image of it in your mind’s eye, Eddie teasing you as he kneeled at your side, fingertips ghosting along your skin, lightly pinching your nipples and skating along the insides of your thighs, avoiding touching your aching pussy. His dick straining in his pants so enticingly close to your face while he played with your body with the same care he showed his beloved instruments, playing with you until he got the perfect sound out of you.

“And when I tell you I can’t take it anymore?” you asked breathlessly, your pulse racing and your body nearly quaking now, your restraint holding on by a thread.

“Then I’d fuck you like no one has ever fucked you before. Until you forget your name, and mine too. Until you came so hard you couldn’t see straight and begged me to stop.”

You stilled in his lap, staring down at him as he paused too, your eyes locked together and the room falling away around you.

“And what if I didn’t want you to stop? What if I told you not to stop, even if I begged? Even if I cried? That the only way I’d ask you to stop is if I said it with a safeword?”

“You want that?”

You nodded.

“I can do that.”

You smiled, relieved that he seemed as keen as you were. Rough sex was the regular for you two, but you found yourself wanting to try something more, something that required trust that you were becoming increasingly sure you could put in him to do it with.

He made you feel… safe.

“Good. Not tonight. But soon,” you told him, getting out of his lap and heading towards his room, shimmying out of your jeans and stepping out of them on the way. “Now hurry up and come fuck me like normal so I can get some sleep.”

Eddie came out of the daze you’d left him in and scrambled after you, nearly forgetting his guitar before running back to get it and then chasing after you again.

Waking up in Eddie’s bed could still be a little bit of a shock when you came to, his scent filling your nostrils before your eyes opened, a baseline of salt and warm skin, mixed with a slight woodsiness that was such a stark contrast from the generic smell of his shampoo and soap. It sometimes made you wonder if it came from living so close to the woods surrounding his hometown, a piece of the wilderness that still lived inside of him even after leaving it years ago.

But whatever its origin, it never failed to draw you in deeper, to where its source lay beside you, usually still asleep until you’d press your face into his neck in a rare act of deeper intimacy. But even more rare than that were the days like today where Eddie was actually awake and up before you, pulling on bits of clothing and the couple of pieces of jewelry that he could wear safely at his job at a garage a few blocks away. So instead of his neck, you grabbed his abandoned but still warm pillow and pressed your face into it to inhale deeply.

“You’re coming to the show tomorrow night, right?” Eddie asked, interrupting your pillow huffing.

Hugging the pillow to your chest, you looked down the bed to where he was hopping on one foot as he pulled on his coveralls. You snorted a laugh as he nearly fell over, pushing up onto your elbows to look at him more clearly.

“Yeah, at eight right? The Crow Bar?”

“Yep, you got it, though if you showed up earlier to wish us luck, I wouldn’t complain,” he teased, grinning at you, the sharp points of his teeth glinting in the low lamplight.

Your thighs ached deliciously at the memory of those teeth in your flesh, the impressions of them bruised into your skin. You slipped a hand back under the covers to press at them lightly, shivering at the slight pain.

“And torture myself with more ear splitting music than I’ll already be doing listening to you play? Don’t push your luck there, Puppy. Besides, I’m already pushing my own luck by coming out instead of studying for these damn exams next week,” you reminded, dropping back against his mattress with quiet huff.

“All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy,” Eddie said in his best Nicholson impression, coming round to your side of the bed, a deranged smile on his face.

“Oh fuck off, I play plenty,” you scoffed, chucking his pillow at him, which he barely deflected in time before picking it off the floor and tossing back over to his side of the bed.

“Don’t I know it. It feels like you used my back like your own personal scratching post, Kitten.”

“Aww, does Puppy need me to put some ointment on him?” you smirked, earning a warning look from him. “I didn’t hear you complaining about it last night.”

“Me? Complain? Never,” Eddie replied with a wink before shrugging on his leather jacket and opening his door. “I know you’ll miss me when I’m not here, but try not to stay in my bed all day, okay?”

You rolled your eyes and gave him the finger before sitting up and wrapped yourself in the comforter, following him out of the room and shuffling into yours to throw on some clothes. He called out a cheery byeeee to you which you returned with a farewell that was far less enthusiastic before you heard the door close and lock. Dropping the blanket, you shivered in the cold before putting on a sweater and soft pants, going over a mental checklist for your day.

Eat breakfast, study, study, try to remember to eat lunch, study, call your parents and try to avoid the topic of dating like the plague, and then study even more before collapsing in your bed to sleep.

Blowing out an apathetic breath, you headed to the kitchen to begin your boring day.

You kind of missed Eddie.

Shit.

---

The next day seemed to drag on endlessly between the two classes you had, both thankfully turned into study halls by your professors, but still agonizingly long. And then you had your shift at the campus store, which was another six hours of taking inventory since the place was practically empty aside from yourself and your coworker and the four, yes, four, you’d counted, customers that came in during that time.

After twenty minutes of closing duties, you were rushing back to your apartment to get ready with what little time you had left, panicking for ten of those minutes to figure out what the hell you were going to wear to a heavy metal bar, not to mention your makeup and hair. Settling on keeping your hair down and lining your eyes with thick eyeliner, you abandoned the search through your closet to dig through Eddie’s drawers instead, yanking on one of his black band shirts overtop a pair of your jeans and some hightops. Deciding this was the best you’d manage, you grabbed your purse and called a cab before heading downstairs to wait for your ride.

It was ten till eight when you actually got to the venue and it still took you almost another twenty minutes just to get inside the damn place, and you were feeling fidgety when the bouncer finally waved you in. The music pulsed in the floor beneath your feet; the sound of a raucous guitar riff, heavy bassline, rapidfire drum beats, all accompanying a voice like a serrated knife that cut through the instruments and the din of the crowd. You took a breath, quickly registering that it was Eddie singing, sounding so different from the quiet voice you’d heard him use at home. The lyrics were edgy and dark, a little angry, but not unexpected given the genre and you made yourself relax enough to walk further inside, searching for the bar as you peeked over the heads in the crowd to try and see Eddie.

A small crowd lined the bar, all the guys wearing variations of outfits you’d seen Eddie wear whenever he went out, leather and denim, various bits of jewelry and accessories that usually bore a skull somewhere on them. The girls however, were all big hair and tight skirts, the darker, more sultry counterparts of the colorful outfits you’d seen at the clubs you’d gone to with friends, with far more black lace and lingerie worn in place of tops. There were a few dressed like you but not enough to make you feel like you were sorely underdressed despite this not being your scene whatsoever.

You caught a few smirks and curious glances thrown your way, but you chose to ignore them and wait patiently for one of the bartenders to serve you. Drink in hand, you searched for a place where you might be able to watch the band play over the pulsing crowd pressed around the stage. Looking at one of the walls, you spotted a couple that seemed somehow familiar to you, the guy looking out of place in a navy blue polo and acid washed jeans, while the girl looked at least a little more conscious of her choice of attire in an outfit not dissimilar to your own.

Approaching more than a little nervously, you cleared your throat and practically yelled, “Hi!”

They moved practically in tandem, both their gazes swinging from the stage to where you stood in front of them, hand raised in greeting. The two of them scrutinized you for a moment before the girl smiled cordially and greeted you back while the guy offered you a cautiously restrained smile and a nod.

“Do you- You guys wouldn’t happen to know Eddie, would you?” You asked, leaning close to be heard.

“Eddie? Oh, yeah, actually!” the girl responded, eyes growing big and smiling even wider at the mention of his name. “We went to school with him!”

Recognition dawned on you then, the picture you’d seen them in coming to mind. A group photo of him and others in green graduation gowns and caps, surrounded by a few other people his age, as well as a gaggle of kids all grinning wide at the camera.

“How do you know Eddie?” the guy asked you, still watching you with curiosity.

“I’m his roommate,” you answered, giving them your name.

The two of them looked at each other before back at you, something unspoken passing between them and causing an embarrassed flush to start creeping up your neck.

“So you’re the infamous roommate,” the guy said, not exactly covering his smirk with a drink from his cup before the girl gave him an exasperated look and punched him in the shoulder.

“Dude!”

Your face fully heated now, your eyes widening as you stammered, “Wait, what do you mean?”

The song came to an end with a thunderous drum and guitar duet that drowned the girl out for a moment before she paused talking and waited for it to finish. Your skin prickled with anxiety, mind racing with possibilities of what exactly Eddie had told them about you. The crowd roared in the short interim between songs, Eddie’s voice calling out over the noise to thank them all for coming and asking if everyone was having a good time before the next song kicked up in a frenzy, Eddie growling the opening into the mic.

Satisfied she might be heard now, the girl started again.

“Ignore him, he’s just being an ass. It didn’t mean anything weird, it just meant that, like, we’ve heard so much about you and it’s nice to put a face to all that he’s described!” she explained, squeezing her eyes shut and making an annoyed face before backtracking. “That sounded bad too, sorry.”

“Good job, Robs.”

“Steve, I swear to God-” she grated out before addressing you again. “It really didn’t mean anything. It’s just Eddie has talked about you a lot recently and it’s kind of a first because he normally doesn’t talk about anyone except for like, himself, and it’s just really nice to meet you. Oh, I’m Robin, by the way, and this is Steve, sorry, should have introduced ourselves before I totally prattled on like that.”

You weren’t sure if you could blush any harder, but if you could, you were pretty sure steam would have been rising from your face like in one of those Saturday morning cartoons you used to watch. The way Robin talked about it, although almost incomprehensible at first, you could swear it sounded like Eddie practically talked about you like you were dating. Which, upon some very quick introspection, is probably what most anyone would assume if you explained it to one of your own friends.

Doing your best to collect yourself, you asked if you could stand with them to watch the show, the two of them taking pity on you and agreeing readily. Taking the spot next to Steve, you could finally see up to where the band was rocking out on stage, Eddie front and center, singing as he played, and looking every inch the rockstar he made himself out to be.

His long hair was already wild from the past fifteen minutes or so they’d been playing, some of it clinging to his sweat damp face, black tank top showing off the lean muscle of his arms shifting and moving as he played. Dark blue jeans with slashed knees covered his legs, chains dangling on the side from the belt loops and one of his bandanas hanging down in the back, swishing like a tail when he moved about on the stage.

The look when combined with his flashy showmanship was making you feel like you wanted to eat him alive.

Taking a swig of your drink, you let the burn of it down your throat ground you as you forced yourself to watch the rest of the band too so it wasn’t as obvious how entirely fixated on him you were. You tapped your foot along with the beat and nodded your head, a pale imitation of the others around you headbanging, but relaxed enough to get into the music. You were no expert on metal, but you could tell that the band was pretty decent and the audience definitely agreed, screaming and pulsing with an energy that had you getting a little lost in it too.

At one point, you managed to catch Eddie’s eye, his already animated expression turning even more manic, grinning sharply before he turned his attention back to the mass of bodies beyond you and let loose on his guitar in a frantic burst of energy. It made you just a little smug that your presence might have affected him to that degree.

“You come to his shows a lot?” Steve asked you suddenly, leaning over to talk in your ear, catching you by surprise.

You shook your head.

“No, this is the first one I’ve been to,” you admitted with a sheepish smile. “Metal isn’t really my thing.”

Steve pulled back to give you a mildly disbelieving appraisal before ducking close again.

“Wait really? I would have never guessed.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shrugging as you told him, “Stole the shirt from his room. Didn’t really feel like standing out like a sore thumb.”

Steve laughed, a hint of sarcasm in it. “Oh, what, you mean like me?”

“You said it, not me!” you retorted good humoredly. “This your first show too?”

“Nah, we’ve been to a couple before, but we’re up in Chicago, so it’s a bit of a drive for us. We usually go stay in our hometown so we don’t have to drive back home too late,” he explained.

You were about to ask why they never bothered to stay with Eddie at the apartment when Robin unwittingly interrupted.

“You guys! Let’s go mosh!” Robin said excitedly from his side, eyes bright with mischief. “Come on, it’ll be fun!”

You floundered a bit, trying to find a polite excuse.

“No thanks, I’m good with staying here and observing,” you said, wincing at the idea of joining the pit. With your luck, you’d end up accidentally getting your lights punched out and end up with a black eye. “You guys should go though, tell me how it is.”

Steve looked as apprehensive as you felt but he sighed and nodded at her, holding his cup out to you.

“Watch my drink?”

You nodded and took it, mouthing good luck at him. He replied with a silent thanks.

The two of them disappeared into the crowd and you leaned against the wall, taking some solace in being alone again, if only so you could stare at Eddie without worrying his friends could see the hungry way you watched him. Especially the few times when Eddie’s eyes found yours again and reflected that hunger back at you.

---

After the set had finished and the band had taken their instruments off stage, you waited with Steve and Robin, speaking a little easier now that the only noise you had to compete with was the drone of the other people talking amongst themselves while they waited for the next performance to begin. Almost out of nowhere, Eddie appeared beside you, catching you by surprise and nearly making you drop your drink. He smiled apologetically and greeted his friends with hugs before he was whisking you all backstage to hang out away from the mass of people milling about the venue floor. He took you back into a cozy room that barely fit everyone, only big enough to house a few crowded couches and a sparsely stocked liquor cabinet that had already been raided by the looks of it, glasses and bottles on all available surfaces.

Eddie swiftly introduced everyone, his band mates smirking a little when you were brought forward, making you blush again because apparently your roomie was blabbing about you to everyone he knew and it definitely made you feel self conscious despite yourself. But soon enough everyone was returning to their own private conversation and leaving the rest of you to settle into the few free seats left.

You kept close to Steve and Robin, the budding sense of companionship between you all like a security blanket in the unfamiliar scene, and they seemed more than happy to accept you into their little fold as well. Eddie was playing the social butterfly, flitting between groups, stopping by to join yours every so often, his happiness at seeing his friends more than obvious as they all recounted some of their misadventures to your amusement.

You observed the easy way they all fell in together, despite the oddity of the different personalities that made up their little group, and that their bond was likely one that would withstand the test of time and distance as it already seemed to. Part of you wanted to ask about what exactly had brought them all together, but you thought that might be a question left for another time, in a less public space.

After another drink to settle your nerves, you couldn’t help but watch Eddie again as Steve and Robin got into an intense discussion that you’d lost the plot of a few minutes back. The alcohol was quickly to draw your attention to exactly how tight his jeans actually were, leaving little to the imagination, even if you didn’t need your imagination. And then you were leering at his muscles flexing in his arms as he moved them while he spoke, and then down to his hands and the rings glinting above his knuckles, evoking the feeling and memory of them pressed into your throat.

You stood abruptly, your chair sliding back loudly from the force of the motion and drawing more than a few pairs of eyes to find the source of the sound.

“Hey, I’ll be right back, bathroom,” you announced to the duo next to you, maybe a little too loudly, but not really caring to see if they’d heard you.

Eddie however, had heard you, his head inclining just a bit as he glanced at you from the corner of his eye, lips still moving as he spoke. Something charged passed between you, your unspoken invitation received if his smirk was anything to go off of. Turning on your heel, you headed out into the hallway and rushed towards the bathroom you’d seen earlier on your way to the greenroom, adrenaline mingling with the booze in your veins and making you lightheaded as you heard him excuse himself for a smoke.

Finding the door, you pulled it open to find it already occupied by a girl bent over the sink as she snorted something off its surface before wiping at her nose and looking over her shoulder at you. You froze in place as she appraised you with unfocused eyes, the dim red lighting of the room casting deep shadows across her face.

“Oh hey, there, sweetie. You want some?” she offered, swaying just a bit as she smiled dreamily at you.

A warm body pressed up behind yours, hands resting on your shoulders and squeezing gently.

“Hey, Rita, how’s it going?”

Rita’s gaze went to where Eddie stood behind you, her smile turning saccharine as she recognized him.

“Eddie! Hey, baby, how’ve you been? You guys were amazing out there tonight!”, she slurred, vowels all drawn out.

“Aw, thanks, sweetheart,” he said, slipping an arm around your waist and pulling you back into the hallway a bit. “Hey, I think I heard Jimmy looking for you back there.”

Rita clicked her tongue and winced.

“Shit, I better go see what that’s about. See ya, Eds,” she sighed exaggeratedly, her eyes dropping down to where his arm circled around you and then sliding back up to you with a slow wink.

Before she was even out of sight, you were pulling him into the bathroom, barely locking the door behind you as you yanked him into a hurried kiss, swallowing down whatever words were on his tongue with your own. His hands grabbed your waist, holding you close while you nipped at his lip and whined impatiently. Grasping you by the jaw, he held you back just enough to look at your face, his eyes black in the low light.

“You stole one of my shirts,” he observed, tugging at the neckline of it with his other hand.

“Borrowed,” you corrected breathily.

He huffed a dark laugh, brushing his thumb along your lips.

“Whatever. The point is, Princess, that seeing you in my clothes is reaallly doing it for me and the idea of fucking you while you’re wearing my clothes is doing it for me even more and I wanna hear you scream my name while I’m doing you,” he told you, slipping his thumb into your mouth and pressing your tongue down with it.

You felt dangerously close to passing out from the way your blood rushed south at his possessive sentiment, tongue heavy in your mouth even without the pressure of his thumb holding it down. Words were lost to you, leaving nodding as your only way to communicate how much you wanted him, your usual bite vanished in the wake of a new type of desperation he inspired in you now.

Eddie smiled, all serpentine and knife’s edge as he brought your mouth back to his, tongue sliding into your mouth to replace the finger he withdrew, eyes still open as yours crossed and closed. Hands were grabbing your ass and pulling your hips flush with his, the beginnings of his erection pressed between your bodies as he sucked on the tip of your tongue, pulling a broken moan from deep within you. You buried your fingers into his shirt, holding onto him to try and keep yourself standing, unsure you’d be able to stay upright on your own.

“God, look at you, finally being a good girl for me, huh? You should see yourself right now,” he rasped, an idea lighting up his eyes as he spun you around, your reflections staring back at you.

You clenched at the sight, his hand taking its place at your jaw again, cupping it just so as he bent you forward over the sink, his hips pinning your hips to the counter. You felt like you were about to combust, sensory overload taking your arousal to a breath-stealing eleven as he grinned at you and yanked your pants and underwear down over your ass and rubbed his thumb against your pussy, spreading your slick around before pushing it inside you, mimicking what he’d done with your mouth.

Biting back a cry, you tried to let your head drop, but he held it in place, forcing you to watch yourself as he pumped the thick digit in and out of you, wetness pooling around it and down your thighs.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he tutted, switching his thumb out for his middle finger so he could rub your clit in tandem with each thrust. “Keep your eyes on the mirror, Princess. Wouldn’t want you to miss out on watching yourself as I take you apart and make you come. That’s right, just like that, good girl.”

The role reversal was intoxicating. There had been a few instances where you’d let Eddie have some control of the dynamic when you’d had sex, but you’d never fully submitted like this before, and combined with the praise Eddie was giving you, you could feel yourself begin to drift just a little from your body. You fought to keep yourself tethered to the moment, biting your lip hard enough to bleed, using the pain as an anchor to this reality.

“Eddie-” you whined, your voice shrill and needy. “Please… Please.”

“What’s the matter, Princess? Use your words,” he cooed, curling his finger just right inside you, nudging the spot that made you push back harder against his hand.

“Hhnh-Eddie, please. Need you. Need you inside me. Want you to use me, fuck me till I can’t see straight,” you begged, tears already blurring the edges of your vision. “Need it, Eds.”

“Oh, fuck,” he muttered, releasing his hold on you to unfasten his belt and jeans.

The loss of contact made you sob, your neediness winning out as tears slid down your cheeks. Eddie made a soft shushing sound as he pulled his pants down, the head of his cock brushing against your folds before pushing in just enough for your eyes to cross at the intrusion.

Grabbing your hips again, he pulled you down his length slowly at first, your cunt still a bit too tight for anything more, your impatience costing you the immediate fullness you’d craved. You tried to push back faster but he held you in place tightly, giving you a well placed smack across your ass and making you yelp.

“Not so fast, sweetheart. I know you’re eager and all, but you gotta let me enjoy this a little first, yeah?” Eddie chided, scolding you like one would a small child. “And remember, you need to watch, so no closing your eyes, okay Princess? Or else I’ll stop.”

Your lip trembled as you nodded, more tears streaming down your face.

“Okay,” you answered, your voice so small you almost didn’t recognize it.

“That’s my girl.”

You nearly collapsed under the weight of his praise. But just as he gave you almost too much with those words, he withheld just as much when he stayed stationary, cock buried inside you and unmoving as he looked down at where you were joined. Tongue dipping out to wet his lips, you watched him lean forward as he half pulled out of you, spit dripping from his mouth onto his dick before slipping back into you again.

“You look so good when you take me like this, baby,” he murmured, eyes still fixated on the space between your bodies as he finally began to move, sawing his hips against yours, the slow drag of his cock making your back arch. “I love your tight little pussy so much, love how it feels like it was made for me.”

“Eddie,” you moaned, the last vowel drawn out and tight.

The backs and insides of your thighs were drenched with your slick now, every measured stroke further coating you both. It was a divine sort of torture he was inflicting upon you, slowly ruining you with his maddeningly unhurried pace, while every gifted word of filth praise had your soul soaring higher and higher, until you were drifting back in that soft space outside your body once again.

You could see both of you in the mirror but it took a moment to register that his hand was around your throat again, the slightest pressure against your windpipe making you swallow against it as he pulled back nearly all the way before slamming back into you, the clap of skin meeting skin accompanied by your grunt of surprise echoing around the small space. Your whole body lurched forward from the impact, shoving you forward further, but you remained upright with Eddie’s support and stayed there as he finally began to rail you like you’d needed.

His teasing had stripped you down to your basest state, one of pure feeling and reaction, the sounds born of sensation slipping between unrestrained lips and filling the charged air. Eddie’s own pants and groans joined them, laced with more pretty compliments of utter filth that he gifted you with each plunge of his cock.

“God, Princess, look at you. Can you see how fucking gorgeous you look right now? Sound so pretty too, like you just can’t get enough of it. You can’t, can you? Tell me-fuck!- Tell me how much you love it, wanna hear you say it,” he rasped, pulling you up from the sink and into his arms, pressing his face into the crook of your neck and sucking a mark into it.

Your vision faltered from the position change and you whimpered his name, reaching behind you to hold his head as he kissed his way up the side of your throat.

“Ah! It feels-,” you panted, struggling to find your words. “Feels so good, Eds. Feels incredible. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop!”

“Keep talking, baby. Tell me more.”

It was difficult to find any thread of coherent thoughts, so you just babbled, your words slurred as you described how you felt.

“You’re so deep in me. Can’t stop feeling you so deep. Always wanna be full of you, always. You make me feel so fucking good- hnnng- just like that-”

You craned your neck to look at him, half aware you were looking away from the mirror, but the urge to kiss him was irresistible and you pulled him to you anyways, planting an open mouthed kiss to the corner of his mouth until he was kissing you fully again.

Eddie’s rhythm began to turn erratic, his hips starting to stutter a bit and you knew he was getting close. His grip on you tightened and you slipped a hand between your legs to play with your clit, pushing yourself closer to your climax.

“Sweetheart, I- I’m getting close,” Eddie stammered, his breath coming out in uneven gasps that made you dizzy.

“Me too,” you whispered. “Wanna come with you, Eddie.”

Leaning you back down, Eddie pressed your hands into the counter, his fingers lacing with yours as he kissed the back of your neck before hooking his chin over your shoulder, his labored breaths in your ear. The angle allowed him to hit even deeper inside of you, brushing your g-spot perfectly as the pressure at the base of your spine began to grow faster, a tidal wave on the horizon that you'd been waiting for with open arms. You could feel your body tense and start to shake as Eddie brought you to the edge, the edges of your vision starting to go hazy.

“Come on, baby, come for me. Wanna hear you say my name as you come.”

That was all it took for you to feel like the floor had dropped out from beneath you as your orgasm slammed into you, ecstasy growing exponentially until it was near cataclysmic in its intensity, his name the prayer on your lips as your vision went white.

“Fuck! Eddie, I’m coming!” you sobbed, devastation rolling over you as you felt him follow you, his hips slam into yours once, twice, and then one final time as he buried himself deep inside of you and came, filling you completely.

Your body was still twitching with the aftershocks as he laid himself carefully on top of you, the weight of him settling you back into your body as you both came down. His dick was still pulsing every so often inside of you, your pussy still contracting around it too, greedily milking him for every last drop, even though it was already starting to spill out the sides. It was fucking filthy, the feeling of it seeping in between your still conjoined bodies, and you couldn’t think of anything you liked more in that moment, messy and nasty and gross, and you loved it.

You loved it because it was him who’d done it.

You loved-

You inhaled fast and sharp at the realization, the tears that had slowed after your climax fillled your eyes again, dropping to the plastic pressed under your cheek. Swallowing hard, you untangled one hand from his to swipe them away, trying to bury the emotions that had flooded into your chest and begged for attention, pleading to be shared with the one who elicited them from you.

“You okay?”

Eddie pushed up from your back gently, dropping a too chaste kiss onto your shoulder as he did, not knowing how it made your heart do vicious somersaults again and again in your chest, the absolute bastard. Blinking the tears away again, you turned to look up at him as best you could and smiled.

“Yeah. Yeah of course,” you rasped, voice beyond wrecked. “Not excited about facing everyone after screaming your name like a goddamn banshee only a room away, but yeah, I’m great.”

You weren’t quite sure he believed you. His expression just a little scrutinizing before he grinned back at you and chuckled.

“I mean I’m pretty sure they all knew what we were about to do when you announced you were about to go to the bathroom and I oh so unsubtly followed. And if that didn’t tip them off, Rita sure as fuck did.”

You bit back another moan when he slipped out of you, the feeling of his come slipping out of you making your eyes cross.

“Shit,” he cursed, grabbing a wad of toilet paper he knelt behind you to try his best to clean the mess that had dripped into panties, before dabbing at your fucked out cunt and the mess on your thighs. “Your underwear and jeans might be fucked.”

You snorted and pushed yourself up and off the sink, testing your legs. Deciding you were probably steady enough by now to not fall on your face, you stood up fully, tossing a look down at him over your shoulder, lifting an eyebrow at him expectantly. Smiling again, he tossed the used tissue into the toilet and grabbed the waistband of your bottoms and began to pull them up. Just before pulling them over your ass, he bit one cheek quickly, enough to make you yelp before yanking your clothes up and over for you to fix.

“Asshole,” you groused, stifling your smile at the playful gesture.

“You love it.”

Love more than that, you thought woefully, your hidden smile losing some of its mirth.

---

Just as you were finishing fixing your appearances, a loud knocking came from the door, instantly warming your cheeks with embarrassment.

“Hey Eddie, if you guys are done trying to drown out the band, can you hurry up? Some of us need to take a leak and I don’t fancy doing it in the alley,” a masculine voice called, good humor coloring the request.

Eddie dragged a hand over his face and nodded unseen to them.

“There are other bathrooms in this place, ya know!”

“And there are other places to fuck around in, but I still gave you time to bust a nut, now hurry up! ‘Sides, your friends seem like they’re ready to go anyways.”

Unlocking and opening the door, you fixed your heckler with an unimpressed look and gestured for him to move. Grabbing Eddie’s hand, you pushed past the guy and ignored his bewildered expression, leading the way down the hall and focused on steeling yourself for the inevitable sly looks you’d be receiving and not on the continuous stream of you love him’s playing on repeat in your head.

Returning to the green room, you dropped Eddie’s hand and avoided looking at anyone directly as you made a beeline for your abandoned chair next to Steve. Grabbing a half full glass of something brown on the table in front of them, you swallowed it all in one go, grimacing against the wretched burn, not particularly caring whose drink it might have been. Eddie stood behind you, propping himself against the back of the chair and making the hair stand on the back of your neck at his close proximity. You needed to get out of there fast, get your head on straight and really think everything through, before you ended up doing something stupid.

“There you guys are!” Robin greeted, smirking as she looked between you two, earning a wink from Eddie and a wince from you. “We were getting worried you’d Irish Goodbye’d us.”

“Nah, no way, would never do that to you guys. Just needed some fresh air,” Eddie excused, no one buying the obvious lie, Steve even rolling his eyes and getting a poke in the ribs. “Sticks said you guys were talking about heading out?”

“Yeah, we promised my parents we’d try to get in by midnight, and we’ve already pushed it by staying this late already,” she said, looking more than a little apologetic. “But! We’re staying till Sunday morning and we can stop back in for lunch if you’re free then?”

The three of them continued to chat, making plans as you sat there in the middle of it all, too stuck in your own head to really process what was being said while you were trying to formulate your escape. It wasn’t until you heard your name that you came back to the present and saw the three of them staring at you expectantly.

“Sorry, what?”

“We were asking if you wanted to come Sunday too,” Steve supplied helpfully, smiling at you.

You blinked at him before looking up at Eddie, the hopeful look in his eyes making you swallow thickly.

“Oh, I’m- I don’t know. I still have some exam prep I need to do-”

“I’ll buy your lunch,” Eddie interjected quickly before you could finish your excuse. “C’mon, sweetheart, it’ll be fun!”

You knew you should say no, that you needed to put space between the two of you before that hope in his eyes grew into something unmanageable, for both of your sakes. But before you realized what you were doing, you were giving a half hearted sigh of exasperation and agreeing, earning a cheer from the three of three of them and a shoulder squeeze from Eddie. Your skin felt warm from where he’d touched you.

This was a mistake.

You’d made a terrible mistake and this was going to end so badly. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to deny him this little bit of happiness.

Even if you knew you were going to break his heart sooner rather than later.

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

Taglist: @dumbslxtclub, @tlclick73, @prestinalove, @unfocused81

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson/reader #eddie munson/you #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #stranger things fanfiction #roommates series

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workingclasshistory · 1 year

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On this day, 25 January 1911 Kanno Sugako, a Japanese anarchist feminist, was executed for her part in a plot to assassinate the Emperor. She remains the only woman to be executed in Japan for treason (content note: sexual violence). Radicalised at the age of 14 after being raped, she was one of Japan's first women journalists and advocates of women's rights, as well as a prolific writer of fiction and non-fiction. She was inspired by Sophia Perovskaya, who helped assassinate the Russian Tsar. Sugako had admitted her guilt in the plot, as had her half-dozen or so co-conspirators. But 24 anarchists, who were mostly innocent, were sentenced to death, which enraged Sugako. In her prison diary she wrote: "Needless to say, I was prepared for the death sentence. My only concern day and night was to see as many of my… fellow defendants saved as possible… I am convinced our sacrifice is not in vain. It will bear fruit in the future. I am confident that because I firmly believe my death will serve a valuable purpose I will be able to maintain my self-respect until the last moment on the scaffold. I will be enveloped in the marvelously comforting thought that I am sacrificing myself for the cause. I believe I will be able to die a noble death without fear or anguish." In her final entry she wrote of how he felt upon learning that 12 of her fellow defendants were reprieved, and so would not be executed: "I am very happy that some of the defendants have been saved. They must be the people who I was certain were innocent. After hearing the news I felt that half the burden on my shoulders had been lifted." You can read her full diary here: https://libcom.org/history/reflections-way-gallows https://www.facebook.com/workingclasshistory/photos/a.296224173896073/2194604487391356/?type=3

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aninkwellofnectar · 4 days

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I recently finished @i-m-p-a-v-i-d-u-s's dark fantasy debut!

I do admit this one was a slow burn for me because this is a narrative that takes its time to immerse you and let you breathe and get invested in the characters for the emotional payoff. I officially dub it Dark Fantasy With Feelings™ the setting may be bleak, the odds of success might be slim, the characters might have trauma abound... but there is still a well of tenderness underpinning it all. It's not misery porn for the sake of it, the pain means something, the love was not in vain and the hope isn't just there to be mocked and thwarted!

If you like dark political intrigue in thick tomes of epic length that span over the course of three books, give this one a gander! It's completely finished so you don't have to linger around for the next book to come out. And I will certainly be diving into the next entries soon...

#from my writing desk

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nightghoul381 · 10 months

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A Little Help ~ Licht x Reader

Day 2 Entry for @aquagirl1978 and @violettduchess's challenge

Prompt: 2. Sundresses Pairing: Licht Klein x Reader Genre: Fluff

The trip into town was uneventful at first. You and Licht were just planning on stopping in at a few of the shops to browse their new summer collections, but a wayward carriage had managed to leave you doused in mud.

“I’m so sorry, I should be the one covered in mud. I didn’t think that stepping away for that short of a time would end up with you getting splashed like this.” Licht looked genuinely distraught, desperately trying to wipe away what mud he could.

“Licht, it’s okay.” You assured him, grabbing his hands and pulling him back to his feet. “There are plenty of shops selling sundresses, I’ll just find one I like and I can wear that instead.”

“I’m paying for it, then.” Licht quickly cut you off. You couldn’t help but chuckle at his eagerness to help. He would do anything he could to make sure you were happy, and that fact alone made you happier than anything he ended up trying to do.

“Alright then, let’s go!” You lead him off toward one of the nearby clothiers.

The woman who greeted the two of you was buzzing about what a state your clothes were in, thrusting various dresses into your arms before shooing you into one of the dressing rooms. Laughing to yourself at how quickly you had been scurried off, you take a moment to sort through the garments. Each dress was made of a soft, gauzy material, perfect for the heat of summer that had settled on Rhodolite.

Selecting one of a soft blue shade, you rid yourself of your soiled outfit and begin trying to put on the dress. Unfortunately, you soon realize that the way that the bodice and sleeves were draped made for a confusing tangle of fabric that only seemed to bind you further as you tried in vain to correct it. After a short struggle, you decide that this isn’t the dress for you, and begin trying to free yourself.

Oh no…

Try as you might, each time you manage to maneuver one of the straps, you seem to merely become more entangled.

“Umm, Licht, are you out there?” You ask sheepishly.

“Of course, I am. Is everything okay?”

“I’m kind of…stuck.” You admit, watching as your lover parts the curtain and peeks his head in. His eyes widen before a bright smile spreads across his face. He lets out a soft laugh at your predicament, stepping all the way into the room with you.

“Haha, very funny, will you please help me now?” You hush, unable to hide your own smile.

“I don’t know… I think I like you like this.” He whispers, wrapping you in his arms. You feel your face heat and try to wriggle free of his grasp. In response, he presses you against one wall and places a kiss on an exposed area of your shoulder. A delicious tingle shivers across your skin as he rains kisses over the stretches of skin unobscured by your fabric shackles.

“Licht!” You gasp, unable to push him away with your arms pinned as they were.

He leans back and you see a devilish smile on his lips. “So, we’re getting this one?”

You let out a huff and reply “As long as you can help me sort these straps out.”

With a few deft movements, he’s able to untangle you and once he’s finished you glance at your reflection in the mirror. The draped bits of fabric created a lovely silhouette and you unconsciously move your body to cause the skirt to flutter around you.

“I like this one…” Licht murmurs in your ear, grinning at you in the mirror.

“Well, I suppose we can get this one then.” Your face brightens at the sight of your lover’s smile.

You’re suddenly very grateful for that carriage splashing mud on you.

#summer days sultry nights ccc #ikemen prince #ikemen prince fanfiction #ikepri #ikepri licht #ikemen prince licht #licht klein

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thevibraniumveterans · 7 months

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REBELS REWATCH

S1E4 — FIGHTER FLIGHT

The episode starts with Ezra trying to use the Force to lift a bowl. Similar to how within the first few episodes of Ahsoka, Sabine tries but in vain to lift a cup off the table. Chopper is making fun of Ezra, so naturally, he chases the droid down the hallway of the Ghost.

On his way down the hallway, he passes Sabine’s room. She is redecorating her room with her paint gun. Ezra backtracks to Sabine’s doorway, leans slightly against said doorway, and tries his luck again. Here goes Flirtation Attempt #2. “Oh, uhhh… Hey, Sabine!” He chuckles. “I see you’re, uh. Painting…stuff.” (Interestingly enough, Ezra doesn’t try nearly as hard as he did earlier. He’s trying the honest route instead of the ‘I’m-trying-to-impress-you’ route.) Sabine doesn’t quite take her eye off her artwork, which she seems quite pleased with. She tells him, “Well, nothing gets past you, kid.” Shyly, and not quite looking at her, he offers, “You know, if you ever need a little inspiration…” (Which we know he would eventually be her biggest inspiration a decade and a half down the line!) Sabine lets out a small, unamused laugh, and says, “Yeah. Then I’ll be sure to look elsewhere.” Clearly busy, she still does not look away from her artwork. Meanwhile, Chopper rolls back up the hallway, letting out what seems like a sarcastic “Oh, no.” Ezra looks back and forth between Sabine’s room and his room, and warns Chopper to “Stay out of my room!” He looks back to Sabine and says, “Uhh, gotta go!” He turns away, and Sabine rolls her eyes. Just another day, another chance for him to shoot his shot.

Inside Ezra’s shared room with Zeb, Zeb is taking a nap, not quite successfully. Ezra dodges Chopper’s energy zap with lightning speed. Zeb is mad, and Ezra blames it on Chopper, of course. To avoid another punch from Zeb, Ezra offers a reminder why he should not be punched. “All I did was save your life from an Imperial agent. Or did that slip your mind?” They start tussling, AGAIN.

Chopper alerts Sabine, who - amused at Zeb and Ezra’s antics - decides to redecorate their bunk instead. (Interesting that she wants to, and then does, paint the room that Ezra shares with Zeb, Sure, she could have chosen literally anywhere else on the ship, but she doesn’t.)

Ezra races down to the Ghost’s cargo hold, pursued by Zeb, who pounces off the balcony and straight into a few crates Kanan is busy with. Hera is none too pleased, and sends Zeb and Ezra on a shopping trip.

Ezra and Zeb walk into town, and the teenager is recognized by a senior citizen, who offers him a fruit, but not the meilooruns Hera sent them to get. They bump into a full crate, but Ezra considers it a challenge to attempt to take it from the Empire. They see troopers load it onto a transport cart, and Zeb lightly mocks Ezra about using the Force. Ezra takes this as a suggestion, not an insult. He concentrates, and manages to just about shift the lid of the crate when a trooper comes by. Ezra sneaks off, as he always does, and climbs up the transport to the crate.

Ezra makes a run for it as the troopers chase him, and Zeb steals a TIE fighter and comes to his rescue.

Hera takes a break, and checks up on Sabine, who denies entry. Hera points out that the room isn’t Sabine’s room, but she says, “I was inspired. It was Ezra’s idea.” Hera shrugs it off.

Inside the TIE, Ezra tells Zeb to gain altitude, and says “I think we’re too low.” Despite the window being dirty, Ezra senses that they might be about to crash, so instructs Zeb to turn the TIE. Zeb is astounded, but Ezra says he’s not sure. “I just knew,” he admits. (Here, Ezra is shown to have connected to the Force and let it tell him things nobody else would have known. Such as how to avoid obstacles without needing to see them.)

He and Zeb call up Hera and Kanan, and inadvertently admit they’re in a TIE. Kanan orders them to “get rid of it”, but in unison, Ezra and Zeb complain: “Do we HAVE to?!” (It would be fun to have another fighter though. Kind of a little foreshadowing to when later on, another TIE fighter is stolen and painted, but we’ll eventually get to that episode.) They receive instructions to a landing point.

Ezra sees smoke in the distance, and instead of helping Zeb get to the agreed rendezvous point, they make a detour to help a neighbor in need. “Friends of my parents,” he says.

Ezra drops onto a transport, and frees his parents’ friends with the Force.

Ezra thanks Zeb for saving him. Zeb points to a helmet inside the TIE, and asks, “You collect these, right?” Ezra says, “Already have that one. But, this is a nice one. Besides, maybe I can get Sabine to paint it for me. So, thanks.” (Again, foreshadowing to when Sabine actually paints a helmet for him a year or two later…)

Ezra and Zeb are in good spirits, having more or less made peace with each other. Turns out Hera’s trip for them was for them to learn to get along.

They make their way up the Ghost and down its hallway, and arrive at their shared room. The door opens, and Sabine, of all people, is inside, having just finished redecorating. Curious, Ezra asks, “Uh, finished with what, Sabine?” She says, “Thought it was a moment that needed to be immortalized.” Ezra looks confused as he stares up at Sabine’s handiwork, but she says, “and you did say you wanted to be my inspiration.” Ezra responds, “Yeah, but that makes me look like a fool.” Zeb agrees that the same sentiment also applies to him. Sabine shrugs. “I paint what I see,” she says.

Apparently not over their pseudo-feud with Chopper, Ezra and Zeb chase after the droid. Sabine steps out and watches after them, amused.

#star wars #star wars rebels #rebels rewatch #ezra bridger #sabine wren #sabezra #ezrabine #hera syndulla #kanan jarrus #star wars chopper #garazeb orrelios #my notes

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necros-writing-stuff · 7 months

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Such Sweet Ignorance: Collabo'ween Day 16

GN!Reader/Blaine Wiley (Male Sugar Daddy Energy Vampire OC).

Warnings: There's a sense of dread through this one; Financial control; Heavy anxiety for reader; Emotional manipulation; Fear of dying; Reader is suffering from something similar to chronic fatigue.

Word Count: 2739.

Notes: This one is far more horror than smut with a creepy element to it. There's like three lines of smut lol. It's in first person and made to be like a journal entry.

With the power of hindsight, it was blatantly obvious how many red flags this man has. But I was broke and desperate, so I went along with what he wanted anyway.

Hello to anyone who might be reading this, by the way. I'd appreciate it if you're some scholar from a couple hundred years into the future, peeking into the past via the journal of some random person. If you're someone closer to me then this will be quite awkward and I'm gonna have to ask you to stop here. I don't think I can look people in the eye after admitting the things I'll admit here. Though after everything I've learned, someone I know now could be reading this hundreds of years in the future.

But I have to get it all off of my chest. I have to do it this way because if I pay for a therapist then he'll find out and make me stop seeing them even if the meetings are only over video calls. This is the first time I’ve been away from him for more than a couple of hours in many months.

It started last year, sometime around mid July. I was at the local library, using their free wifi when he'd sat down across from me. He'd only smiled at me then before reading his own book while I typed something up on my laptop.

We had a few more meetings like that, and I'd grown used to him being there. I'd seek him out when I'd enter the building and feel giddy when we'd make eye-contact. He was so handsome, dressed modestly but you could tell he had money just based on the make and materials of his clothes. Auburn hair. Blue eyes. Well built but not so cut that you'd think him vain. And he was looking at me.

He broke the silence first, asking me what I was writing. I wanted to lie, badly, because it was a romance novel that I was thinking of self-publishing just to make some cash on the side. Plenty of people will buy terrible romance novels and defend them with their lives if they have tropes they love and hot enough male protagonists.

For a reason I still can't explain, I told him the truth. A pattern that would continue, as you'll see.

I was waiting for his nose to scrunch up in disgust, my shoulders tensed so bad that I could feel the knots forming in the muscles already. Instead he smiled and asked if he could read some.

Yet again, I let him move around the table and sit beside me. I let him read what I wrote. And holy fuck was it a surprise when he started giving input on how to make it better than it was.

"My mother was a publisher, I used to do my homework at the kitchen table when she'd review all the things she'd get." Then there it was, the nose scrunch. "I… I kinda ended up loving some of those novels because of it."

Handsome, well-off, a lover of romance novels, a seemingly good relationship with his mother. People say hook-line-and-sinker a lot. This was an anchor tied to my ankle as he kicked me off the boat into Mariana's Trench. The books he'd been reading across from me were all horror, but the ones he'd kept in his bag to read at home? Soft, smutty romance.

I never asked why he always ended up at the library at the exact same time as myself. Knowing him as I do, I'm sure he'd have come up with an excuse that I couldn't refute, one I'd accept without blinking an eye. But I'm still disappointed that I never asked once.

Blaine Wiley is his name. An art appraiser - older than me but so kind, supportive and patient that it didn't matter in the slightest.

We became fast friends, especially with how open I felt I could be with him and how open I thought he was being with me. Everything I told him, he came back with something personal of his own. Never in that "I'm one-upping you," way, but in a "I see you, I know what it feels like too," way.

I had family problems? So did he! His sister was always at his throat. It's why he valued my friendship so much, he'd said. The notion of found family was one he identified with heavily after his mother had passed.

Naturally, we ended up dating. That restaurant was so expensive. I wanted to hide behind Blaine the entire time we were there. Expensive suits and bespoke dresses were everywhere while I was in an outfit I'd thrown together from a charity shop. Yeah, the outfit was expensive at one point. But not anymore. I was a drowned rat amongst groomed cats.

Somehow Blaine had made me forget about all of those worries. We'd hardly been able to stop talking long enough to eat (and the food was delicious). Even surrounded by absolute opulence, he remained all that my attention could focus on.

I couldn't not follow him home after such a lovely date. I couldn't not let him lay me down on his bed, strip my clothes from me and go down on me like that meal we'd shared was but an appetiser. He was so thorough and selfless.

My nerves returned once we'd finished - waiting and waiting for the other shoe to drop, to be kicked out of his bed now he'd gotten what he'd wanted. Instead, I was trapped in one of my very own novels. Blaine asked me to stay the night, his arms holding me close as we slept. He made me breakfast. He drove me home and kissed me goodbye with a promise to see me again.

More dates followed, as well as many nighttime trists (and some in his car in dark car parks). He paid for everything. Insisted on it. He didn't have to worry about his bank account but I did, so why should I pay? In fact, why don't I let him give me money just because?

Another moment where I should have ran. The writing was right there on the wall and I chose to walk past it like it was nothing but a graffitied cock. I feel so stupid - so full of shame - and I should be shouldn't I? I should feel disappointed in myself. I've been a fucking idiot and now it's far too late.

Sorry. I'm getting ahead of myself and far too emotional. I’ll just keep going.

As you can guess, I took the money. I tried to turn it down, but he was so hell-bent on "taking care of me," that I folded quickly. No one has ever taken care of me. I barely take care of me. It was just so nice to not have to worry about having hot water or food in the kitchen.

Three months is how long it took him to convince me to move in. The gifts and money got more and more expensive until he proposed it. His logic seemed sound; I was basically there every night, he was paying my rent and for my lifestyle anyway. I could leave any time I'd like if things didn't work out. He just wanted me to be safe and comfortable while I wrote. Once my book was out he was sure I'd have a good stream of revenue - hell, he could set me up with a publisher if I really wanted.

From a one bedroom flat with a teeny tiny kitchen and no bath, just a standing shower, to his two-floored suite at the top of an apartment complex. His bath is a fucking hot-tub. It bubbles. You can see the entire city from his windows. He has his own personal bar in the kitchen and 4 ovens.

My lifestyle was completely flipped. Rich clothes, days spent writing with an incredible view, relaxing baths while sipping drinks Blaine mixed for me at the bar, cooking with fresh ingredients from high-end boutiques.

Blaine mostly worked from home, but when he’d leave he’d return from work and see what I'd done before sharing his own day. Often he'd come home with a necklace, a ring, new shoes or clothes for me. Always, I was on his mind. Always, I was his to pamper and love.

Somehow, even with how unbelievably relaxing my life had become, I'd end each day more exhausted than the last. I'd wake up with headaches that doctors couldn't explain. I'd just keep chugging vitamins and hope that it would stop eventually.

Things started cracking when I wanted to go to a friend's party. Not even a close friend, just a fellow writer who'd stayed friendly with me over the years. A male writer. Blaine had tried to hide his true reason for keeping me home behind having a date planned. Deep down I knew it was jealousy. Deep down, I knew I should have ended things there or at least insisted that he consider why he felt so insecure about it.

I stayed home. I said my apologies to my friend and sent a gift through the mail. Blaine took me to an art opening the night of the party and introduced me to all of his friends instead.

It was hell. Anxiety had been a companion for most of my life, holding my hand anytime my thoughts would run away or even when I would simply step outside. It came back tenfold at the art exhibition. I felt like a piece of meat (though not due to Blaine's actions, surprisingly). His friends would peer over me with this knowing look before smiling or sipping their drinks. It only made me cling further to him. The one source of familiarity and comfort.

A breakdown followed when we got home. I was so tired and scared - I couldn't explain either - but Blaine simply held me and told me that the reasons why didn't matter right now. We'd work it out together, we'd get better together, but right then I should just let it all out. I could talk when I wanted to, but not feel forced to do so before I was ready.

Perfect. Everything he did and said was perfect, and I fell asleep wrapped up in his arms again that night.

I'd describe myself as agoraphobic these days. That previous anxiety I'd harboured had only grown in Blaine's custody. It was purposeful how he kept me inside without him, how he only took me out when it was a big thing with people whose lifestyles I couldn't connect to. Who I felt ashamed to open up around just in case they judged me. Events that made me have further breakdowns when we’d get home or even when I’d sit down in his car at the end of the night.

If his friends detested me, would Blaine leave? My only source of comfort? I couldn't let that happen.

I don't leave the house anymore. I tried a few times after all of those parties to smile my way through meetings Blaine took me to, but it just drained me further until I collapsed. Literally collapsed. More tests were done on me at the hospital, but still they couldn't find anything wrong.

Blaine left for a week on a trip to Oslo. Since he's left I've been getting my energy back bit by bit every day. I've needed it after what I found him doing a few nights before he left.

Usually, I sleep through the night like a rock. The fire alarm going off wouldn't wake my eyes open. Something did wake me up last week. I don't know what or why, but when my eyes fluttered open I thought I was trapped in a nightmare.

Blaine's hand was pressed against my chest, right over my heart. And it was glowing. I think there were runes shining on the back of his hand, the red light bathing our bedroom in what looked like a sea of blood. Seconds ticked by and I felt my lids lowering again as he peppered kisses on my neck. I was just so, so tired. Blaine made me so, so tired. Yet, I could barely breathe.

And alright, anyone reading might be thinking that it really was a dream. I did, at first, like I said. So I left my phone recording when I went to sleep the next night, the screen laying down so Blaine wouldn't know. He might check it when I sleep (he knows the password, he could do it anytime - he knows all of my passwords for everything). So I thought up a lie to explain it away. The screen was malfunctioning and clicking on things without any input. Maybe he could get me a new one or get it repaired. Spending money on me always makes him happy.

A phone only has so much storage, it'll only record for so long even when the settings are put on low. It recorded long enough for me to see that red light bathing the room again when I checked. Right at the end, the last few minutes. Whispers were also recorded. Blaine's whispers, soothing me, thanking me for being such a font of creativity and life.

Have you ever heard of energy vampires? They're much less known in the western world than the classic blood-sucking vampires. But there's legends of beings that take your life from you to feed their own all around the world. I think Blaine is that. I think he trapped me to feed from me and I don't know how to get away.

Plenty of times the thought to look through his office has crossed my mind. Plenty of times I've wondered why I've never met his sister or seen photos of his mother, why I don't know how old he actually is even though I know his birthday. And in retrospect, I realise that many of his friends I met at the art exhibition had nervous looking partners of their own. They had their own little me's.

I never questioned him. I never thought I had a reason to. Without him though, it's like that leash around my neck has been loosened and I can think more for myself again. Not fully. I still can't step outside without having a panic attack. I can barely call for a takeaway. Apps are my best friend right now. Who knows how many creatures like Blaine are out there, waiting to prey on the innocent?

At least I had the initiative to look through his desk finally. It's such a classic thing, a false bottom full of letters. It feels fake even though I found it. Even though I read each letter and carefully put them back. Even though they confirmed everything I thought.

They were all exchanges with people like him. Creatures who hunt for people full of drive to do something - like my writing, someone's dancing, singing, painting. Hell, one had a taste for mechanics who worked on custom cars. And how they'd drain them dry of everything. Many of their victims died. Some of them went through victims like a smoker with cigarettes.

Blaine was one of them. He'd only keep them for a month or two before they'd pass away in hospitals from mysterious diseases that couldn't be identified. Moreover, he's been doing it for over two hundred years. Blaine wasn’t even his original name, he’d gone by dozens of names over the years. The last letter was from 1942. I guess he switched to using telephones, then the internet when it got popular. Who knows how many other victims have been held in his claws before he found me.

I don't know why I'm different. I don't know why he's let me live so long. I just know that I have to get away before he can truly take everything.

And I'm trying. Believe me, I'm trying so hard. He'll be back tomorrow. I just need to get up and leave, to take all of my clothes and jewellery and pawn them off so I can get away. I don’t even care about finishing my book at this point - even though it’s so close to done.

I'm going to do it. I promise I’ll get away. I'll write again when I'm safe.

#collaboween #spill my guts #necro's fics #blaine wiley #gn reader #cw financial abuse #cw emotional abuse #cw sugar daddies

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i-did-not-mean-to · 2 years

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October 30th

Trick-or-treat

Ah, well...@aeonianarchives and @heilith, here is the entry for Lindir. He was my entry point into writing elves and I'll be forever grateful to him for that :D

We're almost at the end now...

Enjoy!

Words: 629

Warnings: None

“Come on,” you grinned, nudging Lindir in the ribs, much to his visible discomfort, “it will be fun.”

He raised the paper moon headdress at the same time as his elegant eyebrows arched upwards questioningly; despite being neither arrogant nor particularly vain, Lindir was exceedingly reticent to ever present himself in an unfavourable light.

Spinning in your raiment – the twins had decided that you were to be the sun while they would impersonate twinkling stars as a homage to their dear father – you winked at Lindir cheerily.

Their plan – complete with a map of Imladris – was to pester and beg until the esteemed councillors and residents would either bribe them with treats or become the victims of their wicked practical jokes; they had been looking forward to this night for weeks.

Neither one of you would have been able to deny the little ones with their pleading eyes and quivering lips anyway, but you had to admit that you loved your costume – shimmering and sparkling in the fading autumn light – and that you felt beautiful in it.

“You’ll look great,” you assured Lindir and stepped closer to him to affix the last part of his own disguise to his shapely head before he could tear the twins’ lovingly crafted creation to shreds by fiddling with it nervously.

“You only say that because you don’t want to disappoint the kids,” he mumbled but froze into a statue of marble under your careful hands. “You don’t actually mean it.”

“But I do!” you cried out vehemently. “I’ve helped embroider this overcoat for you. You look incredibly handsome and the moon suits your calm, mysterious, and enchanting aura so well.”

It was true that he looked stunning in the fruit of your painstaking labours; the silver threads and moonstone beads complimented his pale complexion and depthless eyes just how you had imagined them to do when – dreaming about Lindir’s sweet, quiet nature that warmed your heart without ever burning your skin – your fingers had embellished the fabric in reverence of his subdued but nonetheless pervasive beauty.

Averting his face bashfully, Lindir blushed to the roots of his dark hair – now held back not only by his neat braids but also by the silver-threaded headdress – and fingered the sleeves of the richly decorated garment those he loved so had fashioned for him.

He was painfully aware that his colleagues and friends would get to see him outfitted thus as they were the cornerstones of tonight’s entertainment; he probably already imagined Glorfindel’s smirk and Erestor’s scowl and hence, he shrunk back into a corner as if trying to vanish.

“Are we ready?” The twins burst into the room in a puff of glitter and carefree laughter, dressed as little, twinkling stars; their eyes shone so brightly that, for a moment, you truly believed there would never be darkness in these lands again.

“Almost,” you cooed. “What do you think of our beloved Lindir? Won’t he make a fantastic moon?”

“Oh, he’s the master of mooning,” Lord Elrond commented slyly, leaning against the doorframe and winking discreetly at you; even though he was the very definition of gravitas and neutrality, he sometimes couldn’t resist a small jibe when the occasion arose.

It was all in good fun though and when he asked you to stand, all together, on the balcony so he could commit this picture to his eternal and infallibly faithful memory, you couldn’t fight the radiant smile – quite worthy of the sun you were meant to represent – rising on your face like a new day.

Dutiful as ever, Lord Elrond dug his hands into his coat pockets and produced the twins’ favourite treats. “Go and terrorise my peaceful sanctuary,” he whispered and watched his sons barrel down the corridor with an enthusiastic war-cry.

@fellowshipofthefics Only one more to go and you'll be rid of me!

As ever, lots of love from me!

-> Masterlist

#fanfiction #writing #IDNMT writes #fotfics October challenge #fotfics fictober #ficlet run #1 scene per day #a different pairing every day #LOTR #the hobbit #Lindir #Lindir x reader #trick or treat #elrond #the twins #disguises #plans and pranks

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the-chomsky-hash · 2 months

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[A. With the Interpretation of Dreams, the dream makes its entry into the field of human meanings - cont'd]

[4. By failing to acknowledge that words, ultimately, require a real-world, grammatically correct expression to sustain them, Freudian psychoanalysis of dreams never gets a comprehensive grasp of meaning - cont'd]

d. One sees how Freud was led to rediscover in his theoretical mythology the themes that had been excluded in the hermeneutic stage of this interpretation of dreams.

i. He thus

reinstates the notion of some necessary and original link between image and meaning

admits that the structure of the image has a syntax and a morphology irreducible to the meaning; for the meaning, precisely, manages to hide itself in the expressive forms of the image

ii. Yet,

despite the presence of these two themes

because of the purely abstract form in which Freud leaves them

one looks in vain in his work for

a [morphosyntactic] grammar of the imaginary modality

an analysis of the expressive act in its necessity

– Michel Foucault, Dream, Imagination and Existence: An Introduction to Ludwig Binswanger's Le rêve et l'existence (part II: Man in his significance), 1954, translated by Forrest Williams

#foucault #philosophy

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i-can-even-burn-salad · 1 year

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Chapter 31

Glass Shards

Warnings: Talk about a sexual relationship between a minor and an adult, including dubious consent. Nothing explicit. Basically ace depression paradise. In exchange, you’ll get fluff in the second half.

Previous | Masterlist | Next

When they had finished their meal, Merridy resumed her tale, so Damien would have no chance to bring up the topic of her vouching for him again.

“Working with Cedric was… I don’t know. I hadn’t been proud to be stealing before, but helping him acquire certain objects his clients wanted? It was like a game. A risky game, I admit.” She grinned. “I’ve always been good at climbing. A window in the second story or entry over a roof was nothing for me.”

Getting paid by rich people to take jeweled baubles from other rich people hadn’t burdened her conscience. Cedric had never asked her to do anything that went against her morals.

“Soon I had saved enough so I could afford the rent for a small room. For the first time since I had arrived in Caldeia, I was truly free. I would still have given anything to find my family, but I was… I don’t know if I was happy. But I was content. I had friends, and a place to stay, and I thought that was as good as it was going to get.”

She watched Damien, trying in vain to interpret his facial expression. She didn’t doubt that he had listened to her, yet he seemed somehow absent.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked.

“This Carl. Was he also a confidant of Cedric?” he asked a question she had not expected.

Merridy shook her head. “No. He would have liked to be. I mean, if you’re not part of it, you don’t really know about it, but he always suspected there was more to it. I don’t think Cedric trusted him. It probably would have made Carl furious that he trusted me instead. I, who could do nothing right, became the confidant of the leader of the thieves’ guild, as he sometimes jokingly called his little empire.”

She smirked, but the mirth did not reach her eyes.

* * *

Damien found it difficult to really comprehend what he had heard. Merridy’s story had saddened him, but what had shocked him most was her confession that she had vouched for him.

By the Seven, what had she seen in him that she had trusted him so much? He would not have trusted himself! By now, it was clear to him that he would rather have the second hand chopped off as well than allow Merridy to come to harm. But back then?

No, he realized after a moment, even then he had not wanted anything to happen to her. When she had sat so stubbornly in front of him, talking to him through the fever and insisting that he try to escape, she had somehow managed to awaken his will to live. She had broken through his shell of self-hatred and given him back his humanity. Anyone else would have given up on him; his own family had given up on him. This Carl must have been out of his mind not to treat Merridy better, and he certainly hadn’t deserved her staying with him for so long.

“He was an asshole,” Damien grumbled softly, yet wondering about himself. Why did he even give this man a second thought? Why did it upset him so much to think about him, even though he had never met him?

“Who?” Merridy asked, a confused look on her face.

Damien’s eyebrows drew together and he scowled. “Carl. If he really believed you couldn’t do anything right, he must have been blind. What did he expect you to do? Break into the queen’s treasury?”

Merridy looked at him for a moment, confusion clear on her face as she tried to follow his train of thoughts. Then her cheeks turned slightly red and she stammered, “No. Not… not that. Yes, I wasn’t a very good pickpocket. But that… that’s not what I meant. I was… uhm. Bad… in bed.” She gave him a sheepish, apologetic look, then stared at the ground. “I’m sorry. I’m sure that’s the last thing you wanted to know.”

“Oh.”

Damien felt hot and cold at the same time when he realized the meaning of her words. He immediately regretted having brought it up. Change the subject, he should urgently change the subject.

While he frantically searched for another, more innocuous one, he watched as Merridy backed away from him. It was a small distance, hardly worth mentioning, but it seemed to him like a huge gulf opening up between them. And the expression that crept onto her features he knew all too well, having seen it himself in the mirror for years: Disgust and bitter self-hate.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked softly.

When she didn’t reply, he gathered all his courage and moved closer. He gave her time to voice her objection or back away as he raised his arm, to put it around her, but she didn’t. Instead, she raised her head, and just looked at him silently. She looked so sad and vulnerable that it pained him.

“It’s okay if you don’t. But maybe it will help. I can see that something is still bothering you,” he tried again to get her to speak.

Merridy leaned her head against his chest. What he wouldn’t have given to be able to guess her thoughts at that moment, but he couldn’t even read her expression anymore. Through his clothes he could feel the movement of her jaw as she opened her mouth, hesitated again, and then finally began to speak.

“I agreed to be his girlfriend at the time, but secretly I doubted that decision right away. I thought… I thought it would be something great. Isn’t that what everyone always talked about? Falling in love. I never understood it, but I dreamed of it, too.”

She tilted her head up, a sad smile on her face.

“Carl wasn’t bad looking… I guess? I don’t… I don’t even know. I don’t… I don’t think I see people that way. Ever. But he was nice to me, and I thought that maybe I had really fallen in love with him. After all, I was so excited around him and looked forward to seeing him every time.”

She lowered her head, her voice quieter as she continued, “By the time I realized that I didn’t really desire to be with him in that way, it was too late and I decided to give it a chance. It was… strange, but somehow also… nice? At first, I was… I don’t even know how to describe it. I felt like I was the most important person to him and that was wonderful.”

Merridy’s hand, resting on Damien’s chest, played with the strings on his shirt. She was silent for a while, and when she continued to speak her voice was rougher, her words coming more haltingly, as if she had to force every single one out.

“At some point, the subject of sex came up. I’m not sure I was really ready for it, but… I didn’t want to disappoint him either. I mean, everyone knows that it’s part of it. It made me awfully nervous and even though I wasn’t really afraid of it, I was shaking all evening.”

Damien had resolved to just let her talk, to not interrupt her, but now he couldn’t hold back. “Did he force you?” he growled, surprised by how angry he was.

“No. No! I agreed to do it. I…” She hesitated, and Damien could feel her shrug. “At the very beginning, I was curious. It seemed to be such a big deal to people. And when the first time turned out to be pretty disappointing, I thought I would learn, in time. I’d understand it eventually, and I would figure out how to enjoy it. But it was just boring. I’d lie there, let it happen, until he complained that I was too apathetic. Then I made an effort to feign a little enthusiasm.” She laughed, but it didn’t sound quite right. “It never lasted long.”

Damien forced himself to not interrupt her again, to remain calm, at least on the outside. Inside, his emotions were churning. He raised his hand to her head, stroking her hair, as much an attempt to calm her down as one to help him keep his composure.

“At first he still said that I just had to discover what I liked. But I didn’t know how.” She sounded so frustrated. “It just didn’t interest me at all. At some point, I think he stopped even caring if I liked it. He would tell me when he wanted sex and I would agree. Sometimes he wanted to try things. I didn’t want to, but when I said no, he would complain, say that I was way too childish and to give it a chance. Then I gave in because I was terribly ashamed. But it was… I never really enjoyed any of it.”

Damien made the mistake of imagining it for a moment, regretting it instantly. The old familiar revulsion at the subject made him nauseous, and he focused on taking deep breaths, to fight down the sick feeling in his stomach.

“Still, I stayed with him. For so long. I was afraid of change. As unhappy as I was, the situation was familiar, and I didn’t know where else to go. I didn’t want to be alone. Sometimes, at night when I could sleep snuggled up to him, or when we did things together, everything was fine. As it should be. Or so I thought. But then I realized how little he cared what I actually felt.”

She fell silent. Her irregular breaths and quiet sniffles told Damien that she was losing the fight against her tears. His own weren’t far behind, but for now, he managed to suppress them.

“What happened?” he asked quietly, even though he wasn’t sure he wanted to know it at all.

“Back then, I took herbs. From a midwife. So I wouldn’t get pregnant. What would I have done with a child in my situation?” She laughed sadly. “Or at all. I couldn’t… I can’t imagine ever having one. The thought alone terrifies me.” She took a deep breath, and when she continued, she obviously tried to keep her voice steady. “I had to take those herbs every day, and one day, I… I had run out, and I noticed it too late. We had been out all day, hiding from the guards, and when we came back… I didn’t want to, but he kept asking, and asking, and… at some point, I gave in. It was always easier to give in,” she whispered.

Damien’s shirt under her cheek was wet. He leaned forwards, so he could wipe his own eyes, before he pulled her closer. Feeling her tremble in his embrace tore at his heart.

“It wasn’t the first time. But this time… for once, it made me realize that he truly didn’t give a shit how I felt. The next day, I took my things, left him a note and ran away. I know that was a cowardly thing to do. But every time I tried to talk about something that bothered me, he managed to make me feel like a stupid little kid. I knew it would happen again, and I… I couldn’t do this anymore.”

She turned her head, looking up at him. Her eyes were large in the flickering light of the fire, her expression so scared and vulnerable.

“You did what you had to do to get out,” he said.

Merridy averted her gaze, but Damien hoped he didn’t merely imagine the way she slightly relaxed against him.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she mumbled. “Perhaps he was right. Perhaps I am too childish, perhaps I should have tried harder. I mean, it really shouldn’t be such a big deal, should it?” The way her voice shook told Damien that it was a big deal to her. “I didn’t want to be alone. But every time someone so much as hinted at being interested in me, I panicked. I couldn’t deal with it. With the expectations. Not only those, but… all of it. The right kind of love. Whatever I felt, whatever I did, it was never enough. I was never enough.” Her voice broke as she added, “And I don’t think I can be.”

“That’s not true,” Damien said without hesitation. When she made a quiet, disbelieving noise, he added quietly, “You are enough for me. I love you.”

The moment the words had left Damien’s lips, he realized he had fucked up. Merridy froze, shrinking in on herself. How could he do this to her, after what she had just told him? Feeling her stiffen under his touch, where a moment ago she had leaned into it, broke his heart.

Damien let go of her, struggling to his feet. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Forget it, please. I’ll… I’ll get more wood.”

He hurried out of the faint circle of light, as if he hadn’t seen the branches piled next to the fire, and fled between the trees. He didn’t go far; it was too dark to see anything more than shadows, and Damien didn’t want to move more than a few steps away from the camp.

As his eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, he bent down to pick up a few scattered pieces of wood, but with only one arm, the attempt to carry a useful amount was futile. His thoughts were in turmoil, his hand trembling. It was far too late to stop himself from developing feelings for her, but what kind of feelings they were, that was another question entirely. Frustrated, he fought to break off a piece of a larger branch, but in the process dropped the rest. Damien kicked the branch, biting back a curse when the bark of the piece he held scratched his hand.

For a short, wonderful moment everything had seemed so clear. Her words had resonated with him in a way nothing else ever had. All the things she claimed she lacked didn’t matter to him. The thought that he might have managed to fall in love with the one person who would never expect anything of him he couldn’t give had been intoxicating enough to let those words slip out. And now he might have ruined it all, and what for? Weren’t all those thoughts selfish? What was it he could offer her?

Damien finally managed to break off the branch, grabbing it and picking up as many of the dropped ones as he could carry. He returned to the fire, finding Merridy just as he had left her.

“How… what do you expect of me?” she asked without looking at him.

Damien tried in vain to swallow the lump in his throat. “Nothing,” he forced himself to say. He dropped the branches and sat down, further away from her than before. “Nothing,” he repeated, almost pleading. “I’m sorry. I expect nothing. You have already given me so much more than I could ever expect. I’m happy just the way things are. I’m happy when I’m with you. I’m happy because I’m with you. That’s all.”

“Really?” She looked up. The tears on her cheeks glistened in the firelight, but he couldn’t read her expression as she gestured towards their sleeping bags, and the dying fire. “When we find him. When this is over. What do you want to do then?”

“I don’t know.” He knew he should be thinking about the future. But what future was there for someone like him? “I have nothing. I can offer you nothing. I’m sorry.”

“That’s not…” She broke off, watching him for a moment. Then, with one hand clasped around the front of her jacket, she shuffled closer. Sitting so close to him her arm brushed his, she stared into the fire. Her posture was so stiff, Damien didn’t dare to move.

“What future would you dream of, if anything was possible?” she asked.

It was a question he wouldn’t normally have allowed himself to think about.

“I wish I could find a place to call home. I don’t know where. Or how. Just… home.” He had no money, and he couldn’t go back to Caldeia, where his childhood home might still be waiting—if Valadan hadn’t sold it. He probably had. “Not a tent, and not an inn, and not…” He nodded in the direction of the sleeping bags. “I’m sorry,” he added quickly. “I don’t want to be ungrateful.” She had paid for the inn, she had paid for the sleeping bags. Without her, he wouldn’t be alive in the first place. “I just…”

His explanation was cut short when she leaned against him, dropping her head onto his shoulder. The casual, trusting gesture took his breath, and with it his words. Before he could stop himself, he put his arm around her.

“Home.” She turned in his arm so that she was leaning back against him, staring into the embers of the almost burned-down fire with her head tucked under his chin. Damien followed her gaze, thinking that he should probably add wood before it went out completely, but he couldn’t bring himself to get up. Not now. He’d never move again if it meant he could keep her this close.

“What does your dream home look like?”

“I don’t know,” he said quietly. “I never thought about it. I knew it wouldn’t…” He broke off, taking a deep breath. “All I see when I think about it is my childhood home, but the memories… they aren’t the best. I don’t know if I could return, even if I… could.”

“I would like a garden,” Merridy said. “With flowers and fruit trees and vegetables, and… some animals. Chickens. I like chickens. I like sheep more, but they need so much more space. It doesn’t have to be a farm, but Caldeia… it’s not for me. Too many people, too much of everything. I’d like to visit sometimes, but I don’t want to live there anymore.”

Hearing that she might not want to go back to Caldeia made Damien’s heart beat faster than it should. Hope, he realized. The desperate hope that one day they might find a way to let their dreams come true. Hope that her dreams included a future together, just like his did.

“A kitchen,” he finally decided. “I miss cooking. I always cooked at home, and… I think I was decent at it.” Not that it had done him much good. Between his brother and father, he had gotten few thanks, but he had still enjoyed it. He would learn all her favorites, would make the same thing each day, if that made her happy.

“A bedroom with a bookshelf with all the books I love,” Merridy said when he fell quiet. “And a spinning wheel, like the one my mother had. And a bed with so many pillows and blankets, you can drown in it. And everything is white and purple.” She giggled. “Like the sheep and the lavender.”

Damien smiled. He’d give everything to make it come true, if not for himself, then for her. He had never cared much what his bedroom had looked like, but there was something else he missed.

“I miss the glass. Working with it. I wonder if I still can.”

He tapped his fingers against Merridy’s arm, a quiet sigh on his lips. Back then, he had hated everything when he had compared it to the works of his father. He had never stood a chance to live up to his old man’s expectations, not with his lack of experience. But what if he stopped trying? What if his only expectations were to create something beautiful, even if it wasn’t perfect?

“I’d like to try it.”

Silence settled between them, both lost in their own thoughts. Damien couldn’t be sure what she was thinking about, but he imagined it: a house with a warm, welcoming kitchen. With a bedroom full of light and lavender for her, and a room with all the glass and tools for him. Waking up each day with her at his side, living a life free of terror and fear.

When Merridy slumped against him, Damien sighed. “It’s late. We should sleep,” he said, as much as he hated it.

She nodded, sitting up slowly and pulling her jacket tighter around her shoulders. “Mhm,” she mumbled sleepily.

Damien nudged her shoulder. “Let’s go.”

While Merridy got up to put a few branches into the fire, Damien went to his sleeping bag. He laid down, staring at the dark sky above, and at the outlines of clouds, illuminated by silver moonlight. When Merridy approached him, he held his breath. Her sleeping bag was a good half step away from him, purposefully so. He didn’t want her to feel cornered.

It was her who moved it closer, placing it right next to him and sitting down on it. She stared at the fabric under her hands, not looking at him as she asked, “Nothing more?”

Damien swallowed. “Nothing more,” he said, turning to his side so he was facing her.

With a hasty nod, Merridy slipped into her sleeping bag, her back towards him. He lay stock-still as she huddled against him. As her breaths slowly evened out, he relaxed as well. He didn’t have the courage to put his arm around her, but her presence followed him into dreams of stained glass chickens and gardens filled with lavender pillows.

[ID: The top image is a banner covered in colorful glass shards. Across it is written the title of the story, glass shards, in a white to bright cyan gradient with a black outline. The font looks like written with a broad paintbrush. All other images in this post are purely ornamental lines. End ID.]

Tagging: @dont-touch-my-soup @kixngiggles @starlit-hopes-and-dreams

#Glass Shards #whump #fantasy whump #my writing

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sankta-starkova · 1 year

Text

BURN IT DOWN

017; RESCUE MISSION

previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

summary: the one where harlow kaz realised that the world was going to end but she decided to try and save it with the people that she cared about, no matter what it takes

wordcount: 1.6k

The second that Cassian got back, Harlow was waiting for him at the entry door, like she always had. She stood in her usual spot by the archway, waiting to see him again.

When he got off, his eyes scanned the crowd that had began to grow around the landing slip and the second he noticed her, his face lit up.

They had tried to keep their relationship on the down low but whenever one of them would get back from a mission safely, they had to see each other.

They had been on a mission on some random planet when somebody has bombed the ship they were going to land on.

They hid away for 13 days before somebody rescued them but at that point, they had ended up admitting everything to one another, about how they felt.

And since that moment he hadn't been able to let go. Every mission that they went on, he made sure she was safe over him and it changed the way they fought but also made them better.

Harlow pushed through the crowd of people congratulating the successful mission, her eyes locked on his as she tried to get to him, to check if he's okay.

When she made it there, they just stared at each other for a second, smiles on their faces. They were always glad that they managed to make it another day in the rebellion.

"You okay?" Harlow asked, reaching up to place a hand on his face, thumb brushing over the stubble on his cheek.

"I'm good," he said, placing his hand over hers and pulling it over his lips, pressing a kiss against it.

"You've got to go debrief don't you?" She questioned and he nodded.

"I'll meet you in your office afterwards," Cassian said. His hand moving to go under her chin, pulling her in for a soft kiss, "I won't be long, but this is a big thing,"

When he got back, she was waiting for him in her office as she wrote down something in a file. He stood at the doorway, a smile on his face as he watched her work.

"You would have made a great politician you know," he said and she looked up, shaking her head.

"Nemik would have made a good politician, I made a good wing man," she said, putting her pen down as she leant back in her chair.

He knew that it still made her upset to think about Nemik but his memory was what kept her going, what kept her focused on th mission ahead because otherwise, his death was in vain.

"Do you have your mission report Captain?" She asked and he smirked, holding out the file.

She took it, scanning through the pages to get caught up on the mission. Her eyes went wide when she noticed something in the writing.

"Galen Erso, he has a daughter?" She questioned and he nodded.

Harlow narrowed her eyes at the paper. This could change everything, especially with the revelation of a planet killer that he had helped build.

"What's her name?" Harlow asked and Cassian stood there for a second, thinking.

"Jyn Erso, but she's been missing for years, presumed dead," he explained.

"Missing?" She questioned, eyes wide. Nobody in the galaxy ever really went missing, especially someone as important as her.

They knew that if they wanted to find out what the rebel pilot knew then they were going to have to find him. The only person who may be able to help is Galen Ersos daughter.

"Okay, I will call Sarithra in the tech department and hope she can find something on this girl," Harlow said, taking a note on a piece of paper and sticking it onto the wall.

Cassian walked over, holding his hand out. She smiled, taking it and allowing him to pull her up from her seat behind the desk.

After years of friendship and falling in love, he was one of the only people she'd allow see her like this. She had left behind the days of no affection and a constant feeling of melancholy for him.

Sure, they were living in the worst time in history with the imperials watching their every move but they had each other and it was enough.

"Did you get checked out at the infirmary?" Harlow asked, a hand coming up to rest against his cheek, her forefinger brushing over a small cut by his eyebrow.

He nodded, hands falling down to rest on her hips, pulling her close. That was his favourite way to hold her, it made him feel like she was safe in his hands.

"I wasn't hurt too bad, you should see the stormtroopers," he said with his signature smirk.

She shook her head with a smile, "What do you think about this planet killer?" She questioned.

Cassian sighed, averting his eyes from hers to think before looking back down at her, "I think this is big, that the empire has created a weapon unlike any other," he explained.

Harlow could see the turmoil and fear in his eyes at the idea of something that would kill entire planets, she probably had the same look in her eyes.

"But I also think that we can't let people get too worried, we have to stay strong for the rebellion," he said.

"And what about you?" Harlow questioned, her hand reaching back to cup the back of his head, "You don't have to be strong for me,"

"I'm always going to be strong for you Low," he said with a sigh, "But of course I'm worried, this could be the end of everything,"

"Even when we're gone, the rebellion will always be here," she said, nodding her head.

He reached down, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, "I hope we get to see the end of this war Low," he said with a smile.

He pulled away, taking her hand in his, "Why don't we unpack, go back to our room, rest between missions?" He suggested.

She shook her head, a smirk on her face, "You're just trying to get me into our bedroom," she said.

He chuckled, pulling her hand up and pressing a kiss to her knuckles, "So what if I am?" He questioned, looking up at her through his eyebrows.

She scoffed, "You're an idiot Cassian Andor," she said, still allowing him to pull her into the direction he wanted. He could take her anywhere and he knew it.

Harlow stood in front of the group, gun slung over her shoulders and jacket tied up to keep out from the cold.

They were on Wobani and after finding out that Galen Ersos daughter was alive and she had been arrested a while back, she had brought together a group and went out straight away.

Although Cassian disagreed with bringing this girl into the rebellion, he knew that it may be the only chance that they have to contact Saw Gerrera seeing as he disliked most people in the rebell alliance.

"We have one mission guys, don't mess this up. She will fight but we take her with whatever force necessary," she explains, "But if she dies, I'll have your head on a stick,"

The men all looked over at her. They trusted her as the leader and they all nodded on agreement with her battle plans.

Ever since she had joined the rebellion when it was in its infancy, she had been a strong force to he reckoned with and everybody believed in her.

"Lets go then, come on," She said, the group rushing towards the cart after it had stopped.

She snuck round, slitting the throat of the man in the front seat before heading back, wiping the blade on her trousers.

Melshi held up the bomb and she nodded, watching as he placed it onto the door, holding the detonator in his hand.

He counted to three, holding his fingers up to count before reaching zero and pressing the button on the detonator, the door blowing off of its handles.

Her and Melshi went in first, shooting the three stomtrooprs in the room before looking around at the different prisoners.

"Hallik! Liana Hallik!" Harlow called out, looking around to try and find the girl they needed.

They had figured out that Jyn Erso was going by the pseudonym Liana Hallik since she was in prison and they had heard that she was here.

When the girl looked up at them, they knew that she was the one they were looking for and she nodded at Melshi who walked over, the key in his hand.

"You wanna get out of here?" He asked and the girl nodded. He unlocked the bolt holding her in and the second he did that, she sprung into action.

Jyns legs jumped up, knocking him over onto the floor as she knocked over one of the other men, punching him in the face as he fell into the wall

Harlow jumped forward, her legs wrapping round Jyns waist and knocking her onto the floor, holding her down.

"Stay still," she said with a struggle, pulling one of the knives from her pocket and holding it on Jyns throat.

She stopped struggling as much and Harlow reached one hand up, K2 coming over and grabbing Jyn from her, holding her in his robotic arm.

"Congratulations, you're being rescued, please do not resist," K2 said, holding her still so she didn't move.

Jyn looked over at Harlow who stood over her, catching her breath. "Lets get her out of here, move, move, move," she said and Jyn was left wondering ehere she was going

#burn it down; cassian andor #cassian andor fanfiction #cassian andor #cassian andor fic #cassian andor x fem!oc #cassian andor x kaz!oc #cassian andor x oc #cassian andor x reader #diego luna #star wars #cassian andor fanfic #cassian andor fluff #cassian andor angst #star wars series #star wars angst #star wars fic #star wars fanfiction

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the-road-from-calvary · 1 year

Note

Little pen 😌

Mia (Mia Monroe)

Camarilla. Toreador.

Involved with me. Friends with - anyone who talks to her for long enough. Good standing in the Parisian Camarilla. Familiar with Cairo Camarilla. Given transitory standing/permissions in Oklahoma City Camarilla. Despite vocal disdain for Camarilla and Anarch sympathy, she is Camarilla by circumstance and more inclination than she's likely to admit.

Loves philosophy, chess, cats, art - skilled painter. Impulsive and Compassionate. Playful and reckless. Vain and fond of indulgence. Enjoys being contrary and smarter than she wants others to think she is. Hates cults, the Caine myth, seeing others suffer, nihilism. I think the situation with Darezzo makes her think she hate Ventrue more than she actually does. Strong preference for bottled sustenance - favorite is Chardonnay. Signature scent is jasmine. Favorite book is Demian. Loves being read to. Has a specific smile when she brings up Jung to be a nuisance - distinct from when she is doing so simply out of interest from the topic.

Rohanne is neutralized, but continue to monitor. Rod remains a threat by association - unlikely to harm her directly, but his fondness brings unwanted attention on her. Continue to use him to mitigate that. Abellard... No solutions. Remain as non-threatening and inoffensive as possible, continue hoping- [entry cuts off]

#((ooc))

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stormwindian · 2 years

Text

This entry is dated for Spring of last year.

Piercing screams.

The wails of men, women and children. They were in agony. Tormented? Lamenting?

Were they the chorus of victims who cursed the guilty, or were they a warning for the rest of us who came across their perpetrator? For as loud as they were, that elven man seemed numb to the noise.

Ithinar, the right hand of Trevaria's ruler. (Art by Lily 😍)

He came to deliver a message from them; the princess that Stanimir storied to us, Trevar of Vesnoir's eldest child, and the conqueror of this clearly Light-forsaken valley, finally has a name.

Lady Alvira von Vesnoira.

If this is the man she sends to greet us, I would be a fool to take her message and the gift basket that accompanied it as mere courtesy. This is a predator; a killer; a man of eldritch deed.

What does that make for his mistress?

Her letter was courteous enough; a noblewoman's tact, after all.

Knøw that it is I, Alvira, whø have brøught yøu tø this valley, my land and høme. Nø døubt Madam Eva has prøphesized that yøu will end the kurse upøn this land. The Zarani wøman is wise. I bid yøu welcøme tø Trevaria, and I øffer yøu a bøøn and tøken øf my favør. I apøløgize før the kønfusing nature øf yøur arrival tø my lands-- søme find the shift harder than øthers. ...

How many others have come to this place before us, lost to time and perhaps greeted by the ferine creatures of the night? Were they greeted by Zarani as well, led here with vain hopes to die?

Are they all working together?

No—I don't think so; if that were the case, the Zarani would have as much of an eldritch identity as Ithinar. His arrival was meant to counterbalance whatever they've told us.

He is a warning; an unspoken threat from his mistress.

Please accept this gift as a tøken øf my høspitality tø ease yøur transitiøn intø Trevaria. Yøu will find the pøtiøns tø be particularly pøtent, as I brewed them myself. Nø døubt yøu have been left with many questiøns; I øffer yøu my wisdøm and guidance in yøur quest. I reside at my høme, Kastle Malgrave, in the east. I øffer yøu an øpen invitatiøn tø dine with me and diskuss matters øf fate and destiny. Køntinue aløng the main røad, the øne yøu følløwed tønight beyønd Mirstøne, past the tøwn øf Zikuli where yøu will find a røad førking tøwards my kastle, and the Village øf Trevaria. Keep høld øf this letter and display it at the gates tø Kastle Malgrave tø be admitted inside. ...

Frederick DuCane mentioned their castle in his 400 year old book; it was named in honor of Ravenna van Malgrave—Alvira's mother?

I can imagine it almost too vividly.

Keep yøur wits abøut yøu, før the røads øf Trevaria are teeming with dangers.

Within the basket was a bottle of expensive wine, food that we'll be rationing out, potions, and a Monster Hunter's guidebook written by Rudolph van Reichen.

I know that name—I was told they arrived before me, in Hearthglen.

Is this a game? Are the pieces set upon the board now? If it is a challenge, I don't mind accepting their invitation.

#Malice of Vesnoira #Alison Clement #RP Character #Journal #176 #No for real look at Lily's art oh my GOD.

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workingclasshistory · 2 years

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On this day, 25 January 1911 Kanno Sugako, a Japanese anarchist feminist, was executed for her part in a plot to assassinate the Emperor. She remains the only woman to be executed in Japan for treason (content note: sexual violence). Radicalised at the age of 14 after being raped, she was one of Japan's first women journalists and advocates of women's rights, as well as a prolific writer of fiction and non-fiction. She was inspired by Sophia Perovskaya, who helped assassinate the Russian Tsar. Sugako had admitted her guilt in the plot, as had her half-dozen or so co-conspirators. But 24 anarchists, who were mostly innocent, were sentenced to death, which enraged Sugako. In her prison diary she wrote: "Needless to say, I was prepared for the death sentence. My only concern day and night was to see as many of my… fellow defendants saved as possible… I am convinced our sacrifice is not in vain. It will bear fruit in the future. I am confident that because I firmly believe my death will serve a valuable purpose I will be able to maintain my self-respect until the last moment on the scaffold. I will be enveloped in the marvelously comforting thought that I am sacrificing myself for the cause. I believe I will be able to die a noble death without fear or anguish." In her final entry she wrote of her happiness upon learning that 12 of her fellow defendants were reprieved, and so whose lives had been spared. You can read her full diary here: https://libcom.org/history/reflections-way-gallows https://www.facebook.com/workingclasshistory/photos/a.296224173896073/1907216899463451/?type=3

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oneoftheextras · 3 years

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Day 14 | Satoru Gojo | Kinktober 2021

kinktober 2021 masterlist

14th October - Knife Play

paring: satoru gojo x f!reader

summary: pumpkin carving with gojo and he finds out you have a knife kink

words: 2.7k

warnings: no spoilers for any season, 18+, smut, knives (duh), hate-sex (kinda)

← day 13 | pain | levi ackerman day 15 | thigh riding | konro sagamiya →

The pumpkin hit the table with a thump, if it weren’t for your aching arms then you would’ve been concerned about breaking it.

Gojo placed his pumpkin on the table as though it weighed absolutely nothing to him, which it probably did, but you were sure he was showing off.

For some reason the students had decided to have a pumpkin carving competition, but instead of normal rules where you carve your own pumpkin as an entry, you were forced into pairs and your pumpkins had to compliment each other.

Of course, you’d gotten your most annoying colleague Gojo as a partner.

“So, what’s the plan?” you asked as you laid out all the equipment you’d need to make this a success: a trash bin for the guts, a big spoon to scrape said guts out, big knives for the top, and little knives for the details.

Gojo had insisted that you did this at your place and not his. You assumed that it was because he didn’t want to get pumpkin juice on whatever expensive flooring he’d had fitted, but he knew it was because he wanted to see what your apartment looked like.

“If we wanna win then they’ve got to look good,” you explained as you thought aloud, “Then lets just carve me into it!” he exclaimed with absolutely no irony at all and reached for one of the knives.

If you’d had time to roll your eyes, you would’ve but you had to stop him before he completely ruined his pumpkin and you had to make another trip to the store, “No, no, wait!” you grabbed his wrist before he was able to grip the blade, “What? Don’t you want to win?” he peered at you through his black shades.

That’s when you saw the humour in his eyes. Of course he was joking. He was the strongest sorcerer but sometimes you couldn’t help but doubt his intelligence, he was a vain airhead that thought the world of himself.

At least this time he had an ounce of self awareness.

“I do want to win, but we need a plan before we go crazy on these things,” you let go of his wrist and slid into your chair. Even when he was seated he was still miles taller than you, it wasn’t fair.

He leaned on his hand as he spun his finger around the stem of the pumpkin, “You think, and I’ll start taking the guts out,” he shrugged and this time you let him pick up one of the big knives.

You eyed him with caution as his slender fingers curled around the black plastic handle. Watching him handle the utensil was dangerous, it did something to you that it shouldn’t.

Maybe you hadn’t thought this through entirely - despite your distaste for Gojo, you knew you had a liking to blades.

“You’re the brains,” he waved it around and pointed the tip of it in your direction “And I’m the pretty face,” he pointed it at himself before he plunged it into the pumpkin’s flesh.

With a shaky hand you picked up the black marker and started drawing an outline on the orange skin, you let out a wobbly breath as you watched him work the knife with an unnerving amount of skill.

“You alright?” he asked without turning to face you. If you hadn’t seen his mouth move then you would’ve doubted that he even said anything, “Y-Yeah!” your voice squeaked like you were a teenager going through puberty.

He popped the top of his pumpkin off and started to scrape off the stringy bits clinging to it. Thank God he put the knife down to scoop the inners out with the soup spoon you’d laid out in between you.

From where you were sitting you could see his white eyelashes from under his shades, and every now and then you got a glance of the beautiful blue of his irises.

As much as you didn’t like him, you had to admit he was an attractive creature.

He was tall and slender, toned muscles hiding under his baggy clothes.

Everyone talked about his eyes like they were the Crown Jewels but you’d never had the pleasure of locking with them.

Instead you’d have brief glimpses like seeing something blue out of the corner of your vision.

Something was up with you, and he didn’t need his Six Eyes to be able to see your skittishness.

Were you afraid of him? No, you’d told him to go jump off a mountain on multiple occasions.

He watched you fiddle with your hands and pick at your fingers, the definition of nervousness. He loved how vulnerable you were being.

The cocky girl that never fell for his charms; the disinterested girl that rolled her eyes at the girls who’d throw themselves at him; finally showing some sort of weakness, he just had to find the source.

He moved in his chair so he was slightly closer to you - no reaction.

He stretched his arms out above him dramatically and let out a loud yawn, making a point to brush his hand against your leg on his descent - all you did was move your leg away from him.

“I’m so tired!” he covered his mouth to disguise another fake yawn, perhaps it was his voice? “Maybe if you didn’t spend all night staring at your own reflection you’d get enough sleep,” you bit back at him as you picked up one of the smaller knives and started to cut out the lid of your own pumpkin.

It seemed like you were having trouble pulling the knife back out of the flesh again and keeping the line straight.

“I have much more important things to do than that!” he folded his arms and continued to watch you struggle, “What? Like-“ you cut yourself off with a grunt as you yanked the blade out “-Redoing your hair for the 12th time?” you continued.

He inspected you as you truly made a mess of your pumpkin, if you kept going like that it would be beyond saving.

“Here,” he said, standing from his chair and reaching over you, “Let me do it, you’re ruining it!” he pulled the knife from your grasp and plunged it back into the pumpkin.

His movements were so fluid, as though the resistance you’d felt before simply moved out of the way for him.

You tried to ignore how good the knife looked in his hand; you tried to ignore how intimidating he was looming over you; and you tried to ignore how good he was at handling the blade.

“There!” he sighed, lifting the lid effortlessly from the body of the pumpkin. When he shifted his eye line, he noticed that you weren’t looking at the pumpkin but instead you were staring anxiously at the knife in his hand.

He turned the blade in his hand until the light reflected on it and gave you a quizzical expression - but you weren’t paying him any attention, your eye line was trained on the sharp object.

“I’m not going to stab you!” Gojo laughed, he was about to put the knife down and mock you but his eye caught the pink wet flesh of your tongue dart between your lips to wet them with your saliva.

He’d found your weakness.

A sick idea popped into his head. You were nervous again, just like before, “I-I know!” you stuttered and attempted to meet his gaze but quickly bailed.

“Do you?” he placed one of his hands on the back of your chair and the other - the one holding the knife - onto the table in front of you and bent his tall frame down to lessen the proximity.

You felt your breathing pick up it’s pace. There’s no way he knew, he was just trying to make a move on you like he always did.

“Satoru, stop messing around, i-it’s dangerous!” you tried your best to sound strong but your voice wavered as your body betrayed your mind.

This was perfect, he thought. He’d wasted so many nights imagining how the essence of you, all helpless and needy underneath him, would taste - and now he was getting it.

The way your eyes widened every time he moved the knife set his skin alight.

It wasn’t real fear or concern, no, it was pure arousal. He’d seen it multiple times on other women that were all too eager to fall at his feet, but on you? You wore it better than any model could.

“It’s dangerous is it?” he mocked the tremble in your voice, “Then why are you smiling?” he quickly moved his hand - and the knife to rest on your shoulder, your breathing increase substantially.

He was right, you were smiling, but it was alongside nervous laughter - you didn’t want him to have this over you but it made all the butterflies in your stomach take flight at once.

No one you’d been with before was brave enough to indulge in your knife kink, they were always worried that they’d hurt you if they slipped or if you moved unexpectedly.

Not Gojo, he wasn’t worried.

He knew his control over the blade was perfect, it would only go where he wanted it to go. Although, he wanted to make you think that he just didn’t care.

“Please!” you whined, rubbing your thighs together as discreetly as you could, “Admit you like it!” he teased you more, delight evident on his face.

For a moment you were going to shake your head to signify ‘No’, but then you remembered the blade close to your neck.

“There’s no shame in it,” he dared to shift the blade closer until it grazed the baby hairs on your neck.

The whimper that left you was strained and pleading, but not for him to stop, you wanted and needed more.

This was the first time anyone had indulged you in your fantasy and, knowing Gojo, he would take as far as you wanted without having to ask.

He was relishing in your presence. He love the way you complied when he moved the point of the blade to rest on the underneath of your chin, slowing rising from your seated position at the faintest additional pressure.

With the smallest movement of his arm, he swiped the pumpkins off the table and let them crack open on the floor.

“The pump-“ you started to protest but the pressure of the blade on your throat increased, “Do you want me to stop?” he raised an eyebrow at you with a knowing smile.

“N-No, please!” you begged all too quickly, causing him to break out into a wide grin. He had you exactly where he’d wanted you all of these years.

A creak of wood sounded as he gently laid you down on top of the table.

“Where to begin?” he hummed to himself in thought, trailing the knife down your chest until it reached your workout leggings.

They might not have been the best idea in hindsight, but when you felt the blade cut through the fabric with ease, you didn’t mind as much.

He inhaled sharply at the damp patch that was already showing on your panties. “You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” he smiled and used his free hand to rip the fabric even more, exposing the flesh of your legs to him.

You shook your head furiously, but you had to admit you were liking every second of it.

“No?” he mocked you again, “It’s okay, you don’t have to lie to me,” he grazed his fingers over your clothed entrance until he found your clothed clit.

He began rubbing small circles onto the small button, watching you mewl and writhe under his touches, “You can admit you like it,” he didn’t want to blink in case he missed a second of your blissed out features, “I don’t kinkshame.”.

You felt him move the fabric of your panties out of the way while dragging the blade edge across your inner thigh and back towards your stomach.

Without warning, he pushed one of his fingers into your hole, sighing at the warmth he felt encasing his slender digit.

He slid it in and out of you experimentally at first, testing your reactions to him, and when he thought you were ready he added another and picked up the pace.

“I’ve waited years for this,” he mused as he watched you try to stifle your moans, “Who’da thought it would be a kitchen utensil that would finally break you,” he laughed at his own words.

There wasn’t time for you to reply and he hooked the blade under your top and ran it along the fabric, watching the stems snap under the sharp surface.

He pulled his fingers from you and put them into his mouth as he listened to you whine and mumble to yourself at the loss between your legs.

He placed the knife gently on your stomach as he undid his pants, letting them slide down his legs and crumple around his ankles.

Gripping your ankles tightly, he placed your feet flat on the table and slowly pushed down his boxers.

When he pushed his glasses down onto the tip of his nose and finally took the black shades off, you stared in stunned silence.

His eyes were unlike anything you’d ever seen, it was like he held the universe within his irises and he was letting you peek into creation itself.

While you were distracted, he took the moment to line himself up with your hole and forcefully push himself inside of you.

As soon as you felt the sensation of being filled to the brim, you threw your head back and moaned loudly.

Fuck he was long! How did he manage to hide all that under his uniform?

He gave you no time to adjust, he picked up the knife again and held it straight up against your throat. It was entertaining for him to watch you trying to remain as still as possible whilst he fucked into you harshly.

You felt the pressure of the knife hardened and you squeaked. To anyone who wasn’t balls deep inside of you, it would seem like you were scared, but he felt the way your walls clamped around him.

He knew you were like him, he knew you were freaky too.

The table creaked and groaned alongside you, especially when he picked up each of your legs one by one and threw them over his shoulders, deepening the angle he was thrusting into you.

He was relentless in his pursuit of your orgasm, he was so unbelievably hard at the fact he was finally able to have you the way he wanted, he’d waited years and years for this so he wanted to relish every second of it.

His thumb found your clit again and continued its assault from before, although this time it was sloppier.

“See what you were missing out on?” he let his ego fly but you were too stubborn to completely give in to him, regardless of how much you liked the curve of his cock, “Fuck y-you!” you tried to be intimidating but a hearty thrust made you stutter, “You already are sweetheart,” he winked at you and then increased his rhythm.

Your moans went up in pitch and volume, you could feel your orgasm coming to rear it’s head but you didn’t know if you were ready.

Ready to give Gojo the knowledge that he’d made you cum.

It wasn’t up for you to decide, your body shook violently as your climax ripped through you with a jolt. He grinned manically when he felt your heat get warmer and your walls get slicker, but he wasn’t doing so great himself.

The way you fluttered around him had him close to the edge, he didn’t want to cum so quickly but the anticipation of waiting for you to want him had gotten the better of him.

Against his will, his hips stuttered and soon he was painting your walls white with a lengthy groan.

He slid the knife away from your throat, noticing the red scratch marks that he’d left. “Are you okay?” he asked, suddenly concerned that he’d gone too far and actually hurt you.

“I’m good,” you nodded, out of breath, “I’m great actually,” you laughed to yourself, realising that you’d just let your most annoying coworker fuck you on your dinner table.

Safe to say, you didn’t win that years pumpkin carving contest.

@mylife-demonstrates-murphys-law @hereticpriest @enagmaticether @anxiousgoddest @kodzu-ken @moonnei @diesinspanishbcimhispanic @fvckmeupyoonz @homosexualjohnwayne @notplutos @moth-baybee @answer-the-sirens @ochakoakabane @demonslover @god-like-eyebrows

#Gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #kinktober #kinktober 2021

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