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sukirichi · 4 months

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[ DUSK ‘TILL DAWN : 008 ]

“we who bear the burden of the crown do not need to love. you only need to stay here, with me, in power, in greed, in lust – in victory.”

c/w. modern royal au. infidelity. angst. gaslighting. toxic characters. toxic relationships. mentions of neglect and abuse. hurt and comfort. unedited.

notes. thank you to everyone who waited patiently, i hope you guys enjoy this chapter <3 this will be the beginning of kiyoomi arc!

wc. 11k

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[ EIGHT ] all they keep asking me is if I’m gonna be your bride – the only kind of girl they see is a one-night or a wife

The Kingdom of Inarizaki was at a loss whether to celebrate the early return of the latest married couple from their honeymoon. The couple seemed to be doing great – according to the tabloids, anyway. When they arrived, the Princes and their wives waved to the people, all eager for a glimpse of the infamous couple who had married for love. For two years, society had their eyes on you – the shy, reserved noblewoman who caught the eye and heart of their one and only Crown Prince Suna Rintaro. And oh, what a wedding it was, broadcasted all over the world and celebrated like a holiday.

What the world didn’t know was that it was an entirely different story behind the Palace walls.

You may share a bedroom, but never the bed. You’d been acquainted with the couch for the next few nights, only seeing your husband once in the mornings before he left to do his duties, and every now and then when the Queen wanted to have dinner. Not that you were complaining – the space was most appreciated. Without Suna lingering, there’d be less reminders of how much of a fool he took you. A naïve, young woman who really deluded herself into believing a Prince could want her. Although…

Suna didn’t not want you, either.

In the few spaces in between, he would look for you. He would make small talk and ask if you’ve eaten. If you liked breakfast, which was a silly question, since it was always tea and waffles. If you enjoyed yourself while he was away, this, again, was a silly question. You spent the mind–numbing hours blaming yourself for being in this predicament. That, perhaps, if you had just been brave to walk away that night you found out the truth, then you wouldn’t be out here wondering if the maids’ whispers were true – that Suna spent most of his nights at Belleview Manor, because quote unquote, “he was unwelcome in his own quarters.”

As if somehow it was your fault he did not feel comfortable to sleep under the same roof with you.

Sighing, you flipped your novel closed. No one had given you official duties yet, other than the blatantly obvious one of giving the Crown Prince an heir. ‘They will have such sleepless nights!’, the Queen’s goons crooned. ‘So young and virile, they are, we’ll have a new Crown Prince in no time!’ Oh, if only it were that easy. If there were to be a Prince, Iris would most likely be the mother, considering he saw her more often than you did. And how funny of a thought that was – you wanted distance from him, yet something died inside you little by little the colder your room got.

“Since we have returned, my schedule will be full.”

You glanced up from where you sat. Suna had sauntered back into the room, his tie loosened; hair messed up like he ran his fingers through it several times. Already, a servant stood beside him to comb his hair back neatly. You couldn’t help but stare. How long had it been since you combed his hair for him? You knew he hated it when they gelled it back. He preferred it messy and unkempt, saying his bedroom hair felt most natural. The bedroom hair he’s shown only to you in the quiet breaks of the night when he was in your bed.

The bedroom hair Iris had seen, as well.

Just the thought of it forces a smile on your face. Standing up, you brushed off the imaginary dust off your skirt. Less than a week in the Palace, and you were already so miserable. You could at least try to look less bothered by his unrequited affections.

“Do what you must.”

Once his hair had been brushed to perfection, Suna gestured for his servant to step away. The man politely bowed down before exiting the room. “I mean to say,” he continued, stepping closer now that there was no one else around. Your breath hitched the closer he got, but you dared not move, not even when his warm, familiar hand cups the curve of your cheek. “The meetings I must attend and people to deal with will take up most of my time.”

You knew what he was trying to say – that he wouldn’t be around, and you had to entertain yourself in his absence. Gently, you take a step back from his touch, watching as an unreadable expression crosses his face.

“And as I have said, do what you must. I have my own duties to fulfill as well.”

“You do not sound bothered by this.”

“Why should I be?” you shrugged, “If I am to be stuck with you for the rest of my life, surely I can enjoy what little time left I have for myself.”

Suna’s lips thinned. “You could act a little less eager to get rid of me.”

“On the contrary, I have no intention of leaving.”

“So I will see you tonight?”

“If we run into each other at the palace, yes, yes you will.”

If he seemed discontent with your half–hearted response, he did not show it. Must be the practiced regality and composure befitting for a Crown Prince like him – all lazy, yet wary, watching eyes. He, too, must know the true meaning behind your words. There was no need to pretend.

You both knew Suna would run into Belleview Manor as soon as the night ends, and his duties for the day had been tended to. Meanwhile, his wife would stay up all night in her couch.

Not quite waiting for him, but not quite imagining if he slept better at her side, either.

It was an unspoken deal between you two already. So he leaves without another word, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding when the door finally slams shut.

Tears prick at your eyes for the umpteenth time. You were tired of this. Tired of not knowing where you truly were in his life – were you his wife, his friend? After you’d heard of his passion and dedication to Iris, you weren’t so evil to stop him from seeing her. He loved her first. And you of all people should know the pain of not having the one person you wanted most. To him, she was his unattainable treasure. She was already making him smile before you even came to his life. She was already offering companionship and the comfort he desperately needed in this tiresome world of politics and power. She was his solace in all this chaos.

And you… you were just his wife. And without a baby in your belly, you might as well be just another useless figure in the Palace.

You refused to be so.

You may be worthless to him as his wife, for you truly couldn’t have his heart, but you refused to be a worthless person. Deep down, you knew you weren’t. It was just the title of ‘Princess’ that made you feel incapable and short. Did that mean you weren’t meant to be Princess, then? Should you go back to your manor, learning how to handle the household and managing the family business like your parents taught?

If you were not for Suna, did that mean you were not for the Crown, as well?

You bit your lip in contemplation. There was only one person who could provide you a solution to this.

“It is not every day I am summoned by a Princess,” a smooth, deep voice filtered through the garden. Smiling, you stood up to greet the Third Prince. A curtsy, a bow, and soon you two were sipping tea – the momentary peace a guise of what was to come. Kita must have sensed it, too, his gaze flitting over your pinched face with understanding and patience. “To what do I owe this pleasure? Surely we are not here to discuss the pleasantries of your honeymoon.”

You grimaced. “Definitely not. There were no pleasantries to begin with.”

His face fell.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Are you… My apologies. I’m not sure how to proceed with this.”

Nodding, you set your tea town. You had a feeling he truly meant his apology, which felt good, seeing as most of the Princes had too much pride to know the word ‘sorry.’ But you hd always known that Prince Kita was unlike the other Princes – he had more honor, and a stronger sense of morality compared to his brothers. Maybe it was due to his being raised by his mother, who was a lawyer, and therefore was not so exposed to the greed and competition experienced by the other Princes.

Whatever it was, he was just different. And you could rely on him to be truthful, too.

“Have you always known about them?” you muttered, refusing to look at the Prince’s face in fear of being met with pity. That was the last thing you wanted – to be seen as the poor, unwanted wife. “Iris and Rintaro?”

“I have.”

“I see.”

Kita sighed. “Please don’t misunderstand, Princess. I never meant to keep it from you. None of us did – except for those truly involved. It was just… I grew up with them, too. Keiji and I were only a year ahead of Rintaro and Iris. When I heard the Crown Prince had become acquainted with a foreign royal scholar, we didn’t think too much of it. Her sudden marriage with Kiyoomi surprised us all, and none of us would’ve thought that her friendship with Rintaro would turn into something more.”

“You don’t need to explain all of this to me, Your Highness.”

“Perhaps, but…” reaching over the table, the Prince squeezed your knuckle. You chuckled, not having realized you’d balled up your hands into a fist. It turned out you couldn’t fool anyone, not even yourself, to act like you didn’t care how much it all hurt. “I do not want you to think I am not on your side.”

“You do not need to be on my side. He is your brother.”

“Blood means little to me when my own kind is cruel to others,” he retorted, looking offended you would suggest otherwise. “I have always been against it, Princess. I told him from the beginning that to covet one’s brother’s wife is one thing, but to involve someone else, all for his selfish reason of ascending a throne that was always rightfully his just seemed heartless.”

Heartless. Gods. To know that your husband was capable of being cruel was one thing, but to hear it coming from his own brother’s lips was another.

“But Rintaro is Rintaro. Of course he is stubborn.”

“Indeed, he is,” Prince Kita sighed in defeat, leaning back against his seat as he stroked his chin in thought. “Princess, while I cannot guarantee I can take all of your woes away, I want you to know you can trust me. If there is anything you need, let me know and I will do it for you. It’s the least I can do to make your stay here in the Palace tolerable.”

“Do you mean that?”

“I do, and I am a man of my word.”

“Then I suppose there’s no point beating around the bush,” you gritted your teeth, forcing the words to come out.

It had always been a lingering thought at the back of your mind – to leave Rintaro – but there was this prideful, equally stubborn voice at the back of your head telling you it was too early to give up. That you needed to fight. But what was there to fight for? It wasn’t like Rintaro would learn to love you. And neither do you plan on wooing him. So, instead, you swallowed up your pride and called for Kita, knowing he would never judge you for the choices you were about to make.

“I actually called for you today because I wish to discuss royal marital laws, possibly with your mother. She would know about it best.”

“You need legal counsel,” he caught on, and you nod, “I can arrange that. I assume you want it discreetly, too. That is no problem at all. But if I may be bold, I wish to ask something from you in return.”

“Name your price.”

“It is about this maid that I am fond of. Airi,” her name came out breathily from his mouth, almost like a whisper. You noticed the Prince glancing around the empty garden almost warily, though you already took measures to ensure no one would be around to witness this conversation. Reassured, Kita sat up straighter and looked you in the eye, nothing but sincerity and determination in his expression. “I will do anything you ask of me, as long as it is within legal reasons, if you take her in as your personal maid.”

“I’ve heard rumors about you having affections for a maid in your quarters,” you mumbled, feeling almost sorry for the kind–hearted Prince. It seemed he, too, did not escape the heartbreaking torment for falling for a person you could never have. “So it is true, after all.”

“It is. You seem surprised about it. Is it so shocking to learn of a Prince having genuine feelings for another?”

You shook your head. “Not at all. I think I should know best that passion is something you brothers certainly have,” you snort, and Kita fights back a grin. “Very well, then. I will take care of your lovely maid, although I do wish to know – why are you assigning her to me? Have you… done anything to stain her honor?”

The color seeped out of the Prince’s face.

“I would never do such a thing.”

“I figured you wouldn’t.”

Kita’s shoulders squared before he exhaled. “Airi is… Ever since I set my sights on her, she has been in danger. People have been very unkind towards her, especially with the staff in my quarters. And as much as I would love having her by my side in my every waking hour, it would break my heart to know that she is being looked down upon simply because I admire her. But I figure with her at your side, with a new assignment, she will have some peace.”

Your heart ached for him. You could tell this was not an easy decision to make, but a necessary one if he wanted to ensure his lover’s well-being.

“You can still see her, Your Highness. It’s not like I will take her away from you.”

“I wouldn’t let you, either, but these are very difficult times for everyone in the Palace. The security of the throne weakens every day. The Parliament is restless, and there is only so little I can do with all these failed unions,” he rattled on, eyes widening when he realized it too late. Bowing his head, the Prince’s brows furrowed. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to–”

“Our marriage is not a failed union. Not yet. I will make certain it will not be a failure.”

It couldn’t be a failure. There was only one way out of this dreadful marriage, and as much as you hated it, that exit only existed in a path where you had no choice but to let him be a great King. This is why you need Kita’s mother’s counsel. Surely there could be a loophole in the clause that would invalidate the marriage. But until that opportunity presents itself, you were stuck here in this Castle, surrounded by everyone but your husband.

You had to make it work.

“With all due respect, Princess,” sighs the Prince, looking more remorseful than irritated. “Why is it that you try so hard? You do not need to stay with him, you know. It may be against the law for royal marriages to be annulled, but surely we can find a way. You do not need to torture yourself by spending one more day with your husband.”

“I know that.”

“Then why do you stay?”

“Because,” you croaked out, feeling a lump grow in your throat. “Because loving him is all I had known, and perhaps it is time I learn to despise him, as well.”

Silence stretches. The prince sat there, unmoving, as your words hang in the thick air between you two. You knew he would understand; he wouldn’t judge. But there is still concern in his handsome features that made you realize how pitiful you really are. And maybe there was no one else to blame but yourself, because you were foolish, and in love. But you were trying – by the Gods, you really were doing your best – to just be in love and not have to be foolish anymore.

Kita could see this as well. Your strength, your grit. He could see everything from where he sat, and that was why he simply nodded. “Are you getting there yet?”

“I will get there someday.”

Before the Prince could say anything else, a servant appeared from the bushes. He looked sheepish upon the intrusion, an apologetic smile on his face directed to the Prince. “Your Highness. It is time for your lessons.”

The Prince sent you a knowing look. This was not to be the last time you see each other, and you smiled up at him, grateful. It felt good to have at least one person you could lean on in the Palace. You stood up, too, shaking his hand just as his servant excused himself. If your memory did not fail you, the Third Prince studied law outside of the Palace and had to attend university, unlike his brothers who had chosen to indulge in their promised wealth after graduating high school.

“Excuse me, Your Highness. I have matters to attend to, but my words still ring true – I am only a call away should you need me.”

“Thank you so much for your time, my Prince.”

“It was my pleasure. I will inform you right away of my mother’s availability.”

“Oh, and Princess,” piped up the servant from somewhere around the bushes, “Princess Maiko is looking for you. She is waiting for you in her drawing room.”

You should’ve expected that Princess Maiko would come looking for you. The whole ordeal she witnessed back at your rest house must have come as a shock for her. Sure, her marriage didn’t go so well, either, but at least Tooru hadn’t gone around sleeping with someone else. For a man who didn’t want to get married, he kept to his vow of loyalty to his wife. Still, you didn’t want this to be a competition on who had it worse – Maiko was simply worried, and you had to explain yourself for your untoward behavior on everyone’s getaway.

“Princess! Oh my gosh – how are you?! I was worried sick!”

“Princess,” you return her hug, smiling despite the fact the smaller Princess had a bone–crushing grip. “Thank you for your concern, but I assure you, I am well.”

“Oh, Princess, you couldn’t be,” she pulled back with tears in her eyes. You almost apologized on the spot now that you remembered demanding to return to the City without informing the others why. Especially not Maiko, who seemed to be clueless. “I… I heard from Tooru about everything. The entire situation with Iris and the Crown Prince – truly, I did not know a single thing. If I had, I would have told you right away.”

“I know, and I’m thankful for your support.”

You squeeze her hand in reassurance, and the Princess leads you to sit on the couch. She slumps on it rather ungracefully, her innocent, wide eyes moist as she shakes her head.

“I had no idea Iris could do that. I just… the moment she arrived in the palace, she was so lovely, you know? She was always a little reserved, and liked to keep to herself, but I never would’ve guessed. I truly thought she was a good friend of mine, and now I have no idea who she really is.”

“Neither did I.”

“How are you, though? And please, tell me the truth. You do not need to pretend all is well.”

You shrug half-heartedly. “I am the Crown Prince’s wife. I must learn to be strong.”

“You mustn’t torture yourself any longer,” she licks her lips, chuckling without a trace of humor in it. “Although I do not blame you for staying in a marriage without love,” she smiled sadly, holding your hand firmer where it sat on her lap. “What do you plan to do?”

“I will divorce him,” you announced, and finally saying it loud felt different than just having the thought float in your head. It now felt like a reality. A choice you had to be firm in making. Licking your lips, you couldn’t help but glance at the beautiful wedding ring sitting on your finger – how just like your marriage, it is sparkling yet meaningless.

Leaving him would be the right choice. It would not mean you were weak.

“Once I meet with Kita’s mother and work our way around the law… I’m going to leave him. If it is a proper marriage he wants, then it is the one thing he will not get,” braving to look her in the eyes, you force a determined smile. “I believe it is the right thing to do, Your Highness. I must pick my battles wisely.”

“I understand, and I support you if this is what you want to do.”

“Thank you, Princess.”

“Although…”

“Although?”

“I still find it hard to believe,” she quipped, momentarily letting go of your hand as she stood up, pacing around the room. Her dark hair, neatly braided and adorned with headpieces, slowly started falling into curled pieces around her delicate face with how fast she’d been pacing. Almost as if her feet couldn’t quite keep up with her thoughts. “Iris and Kiyoomi had been married for five years, and Tooru told me they’d loved each other long before then. I am aware I am not the best at reading the room, but surely I am not so foolish to miss the love in their eyes. I would have known, Your Highness, I swear.”

You smile, confused. “I… am not sure I understand what you mean.”

“I mean Iris never looked in love,” she reiterated. “Granted, she was never affectionate with Kiyoomi, so that much is clear, but with the Crown Prince? They barely even speak to each other.”

“You couldn’t have known if they did spend time together,” you told her as softly as you could, “I heard they often hid in Belleview Manor, away from the eyes of the public.”

“But I live here,” she argued, and you stopped trying to butt in. For such a small thing, you had already learned once Maiko had her head set on something, almost nothing could stop her. “I live in Honor Hall, just five minutes away from them! I could have heard something. And on the few times I do see them together, Iris had always seemed… walled off. If Rintaro was able to display his affections openly, Iris was not the same. That night you weren’t at the house, they did not seem like a happy couple to me.”

“What are you talking about?”

Maiko shook her head again, causing more curls to loosen. “They seemed familiar with each other, but not intimate. It was almost as if they were lovers purely in the bedroom, but they couldn’t have known each other’s heart,” her eyes lit up, before it dimmed again when she took in your somber expression. “I do not mean to give you false hope, Princess, but believe me. I know a man in love when I see one, and it is not the Crown Prince with Iris. But… but when you were not married yet, everyone could tell the Crown Prince smiled more. He laughed often, too, and he even spent more time with his brothers.”

“Well, that is only natural. He has a lot of siblings. Of course he would enjoy their company.”

“No, no, you do not understand, Princess. The Crown Prince… didn’t grow up that way,” she bit her lip, and then scooted next to you. “As the only son of the King and Queen, he was already more important than the rest. Because of that, he was raised differently – away and isolated from his brothers. He was always tutored alone, and never played with the other Princes. He spent his childhood locked up in his study, but then the Queen allowed him to attend regular school, and when he graduated… he met you. And I swear, he was different then.”

“Because he already met her,” you remarked, hoping she would stop already. Rintaro does not love you. “He’d become happier because Iris was already in his life.”

“I went to the same school with them; grew up with them. I had crushed on Prince Tooru for so long that I followed wherever he went, and where Tooru was, the Crown Prince would follow. They were born just months apart. And Iris never made the Crown Prince look… look…”

“Look what?”

“Look content,” she finally supplied. “But when the Crown Prince introduced you to us, he had this look on his face. When you spoke to others, he would always be looking at you, listening to your every word. Even when you were not in the same room, he would speak fondly of you. And he even once told me he still could not believe someone as precious as you had been attending the same lousy balls he’d been enduring all his life. He said that if he had met you earlier, he might have never skipped out attending the dances.”

“I don’t know,” your lips trembled, “I do not know what to do, Princess. Hearing of this does not make it any better.”

“I know, and I’m sorry, but you must understand,” she squeezed your hand, desperation evident in her tone. “Your husband looks at you the way I wished mine would at me. He may say otherwise, but his eyes cannot lie. He softens when you are around, Princess. That night you did not return home at Greenville, the Crown Prince could not sleep at all. And these past few days…”

“I believe that is enough. I do not wish to hear how he spent his nights at Belleview.”

“He didn’t, Your Highness. The Crown Prince has never even spoken to Iris ever since we returned from your honeymoon.”

Rintaro could count the number of things pissing him off with one hand.

One: You had barely acknowledged his existence the past few days.

Two: Iris wouldn’t stop pulling him into dark, secluded corners in the Castle each time she chanced upon him. Two-point-five: She couldn’t understand he was not in the mood for another one of their trysts.

Three: Kiyoomi skipped another meeting concerning Itachiyama again.

Seriously, Rintaro understood being a Prince was tiresome work. It was not as grandiose as the tabloids made it out to be. Even in his sleep, he sometimes dreamt of paperwork, or he would wake up in the middle of the night with his hands signing off imaginary papers. The pressure was tougher on Kiyoomi, too, because he was expected to be ready to take after Wakatoshi at any time he even faltered – note: the First Prince never did – and to also act as representative for the other territory thanks to his birthright. But his brother was an hermit, and seemed to fear the sunlight, considering he never left his quarters. Or on the rare occasions he did, he would be hiding away in other countries doing who knows what.

He had just finished a meeting with some of the territory leaders regarding a public complaint that the price of goods had gone up, and some daily necessities were now ridiculously overpriced. One of the main suppliers of good livestock and coconuts, Itachiyama, made it even more expensive – not for any good reason, just that their leader loved to remind Inarizaki constantly that they needed him more than he needed the monarchy.

His goading affected his people, and Rintaro has had enough. Kiyoomi could at least try to pretend to be interested in the meetings. Out of all the nine princes, Kiyoomi was the most influential for being a half-blood. The Itachiyama president adored him. He wouldn’t have had to struggle negotiating for prices had he been doing his work. He was the damned mediator between the two countries, for goodness’ sake!

And to make it all worse, his life did not get any better outside the meeting rooms.

No, because his wife was intent on acting like he did not exist. And on the few times he did manage to be in the same space as you without you running off, you always looked through him. Like he wasn’t even a real person. As if he was just an apparition, a ghost in your mind that you could overlook if you tried hard enough.

He already knew you wouldn’t be in your quarters once he returned, but Rintaro still couldn’t help the pang of disappointment washing over him. He chose you to be his future Queen for many reasons, one of them being your wisdom in these kinds of things. You just needed a little encouragement to speak up, but Rintaro was confident you would make a great leader. You had genuine care for your people. You would have been able to help him make the best decisions for everybody – if you would just listen to him. Wasn’t that how marriages work? To share the burden of the Crown together? The Crown was too heavy for one person alone, which is why Kings cannot be crowned without their Queens.

Rintaro couldn’t do it alone. Each day was becoming more challenging for him, and he so desperately wished he could discuss the country’s future with you. He would feel more confident in his choices. He would be more reassured that he was doing the right thing, but it seemed that all he knew how to do lately was fuck everything up.

On his way back, Rintaro stopped trying to look regal. He let his shoulders slump and ran his fingers through his hair again. The gel be damned. Loosening his tie, he rolled his shoulders back and winced at how stiff his back was. Sitting on his ass all day long, having to listen to old men argue back and forth over money, and simultaneously having to deal with a marriage he’d already screwed over – Rintaro just wanted to disappear.

He wanted to return to Greenville.

It was peaceful there. People minded their own business, everyone had their own purpose and reason for waking up each day and there, he could just be himself. Not the Crown Prince, not a young man who had to hurt you for the sake of the throne. He could just… be free.

“Your Highness,” a servant bowed in front of him, keeping a respectful distance but enough to let him know he needed his attention.

“Good evening,” he greeted back, “Have you seen my wife?”

“Her Highness was with Princess Maiko this morning. Last I heard, she has not left the Palace, at all.”

“I see,” Rintaro was already moving towards Honor Hall before his feet could register it. It was a good twenty minute walk, and the chances of running into Iris weren’t miniscule, but it would be worth it. He could use some fresh air, anyway. And he figured with Maiko around, you would be less opposed to spending the evening with him – until he realized Maiko must have known everything, too. How he manipulated you, and left you in the middle of nowhere.

On second thought, having two Princesses who clearly did not welcome him would not make for a great night.

“My Prince!”

Rintaro stopped on his tracks. He had a split second to school his expression to surprise – the good kind – when he came face to face with the last woman he wanted to see.

“Mother,” he greeted, taking her gloved hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles whilst she fanned herself. “I wasn’t informed you would be visiting.”

She waved her fan around. “Oh, I had to nearly knock down the guards when they wouldn’t let me in, but I had to see my daughter. I heard from the news that you came home too early. Well, what is wrong? Is she sick? Does she not like the countryside? Or perhaps there was an emergency you had to attend to?” fanning herself harder, Rintaro’s hand wound at the small of her back to guide the older woman into a nearby seat. “She hasn’t answered any of my calls, and I am worried, my son.”

“Your concern for her will put her at ease, I’m certain,” he reassured, swallowing the uncomfortable lump growing in his throat. “This is just… a difficult time for us, Mother. I fear Her Highness is having doubts about our marriage once she saw how overwhelming the Crown could be. She simply wished to return home because she felt there were things to be done here.”

Your mother sighed and shook her head. “My poor daughter. She always felt the need to prove her worth by working herself to death,” spinning to face him, she pointed her fan in his direction – which would be considered a threat to the Crown Prince, but she was his mother–in–law. Her presence itself was a threat to his life. “Promise me you won’t let her exhaust herself, son. Promise me you’ll take care of her.”

“She is in good hands, Mother, I promise you this.”

Pleased with him, your mother beamed. “I was also… Well, I may be crossing the line, but now that you tell me my poor daughter is anxious about her royal duties, I was planning to hold a ball in her honor. A welcoming ball for the new Princess, of sorts. It should help her integrate into your world better, but still with the comfort of our support.”

“A ball sounds lovely. We can hold it anytime as we are still in our honeymoon period and she will be free for quite some time.”

“That is perfect! I will make the arrangements, then.”

Wearing his best Prince Charming smile, even if he was anything but, Rintaro found himself mindlessly agreeing to everything your mother wanted. He would have to squeeze all these events in his already hectic schedule, but he was not complaining. She was right. You deserved to relax and enjoy yourself. He should know best that having royal titles did not promise a life of gallivanting and endless tea parties. Once your mother had exhausted herself from all the planning, Rintaro escorted her out to the palace entrance, stopping only when your figure appeared from the corner.

Finally, you were looking at him.

But with a glare.

Well, he supposed beggars couldn’t be choosers.

“You are a far better actor than I give you credit for – lying to my mother like that.”

“I did not mean to.”

You rolled your eyes, and Rintaro bit his lip. Cute, he thought, but he would never say it out loud. He would simply enjoy the fact you did not push him away, or walk away as if you were scalded when he started walking next to you. For a moment, everything almost seemed normal. Minus the extreme glaring, of course.

“Surely. It’s not like telling her you manipulated me for the past two years was on your to-do list.”

“Do not use that tone on me.”

“I will speak with you however I wish. You do not get to tell me what to do.”

“You are right; I cannot tell you what to do, so do as you please, then,” he surrendered, and you must be surprised by how he easily gave in from the way you froze. Glaring harder, Rintaro bit his cheek, tilting his head to the side as he gazed upon your pretty face. And oh, how badly he wanted to smooth that frown you’re wearing. “I missed you. I have not seen you all day long.”

“Must have been a lovely day for you, then.”

It was hell, actually, was what he wanted to say, but even that did not seem enough to articulate what he truly felt. I missed you, and I’m sorry I hurt you. Please sleep on the same bed with me again. I want to hold you all night long, and your scent calms me. But instead, all that comes out of his mouth was, “It was not lovely at all.”

“Hmm. I’m not Iris.”

“No, you aren’t.”

He agreed wholeheartedly – you were not his lover. Iris would not argue with him like this; in fact, they never argued at all. Whenever they had misunderstandings, they resolved it by taking out their frustrations on the bedroom, and the next day, all would be forgiven and forgotten. It was easier with Iris, in some ways, because with you he actually had to use his words, and he had to say the right ones. Both of which he wasn’t good at, but would try his very best anyway.

“I heard you spent the day with Maiko. How was it? Did you two have fun?”

“As fun as two women suffering at the hands of men who despise them could have.”

Rintaro took a larger step to stand in front of you, his eyes narrowed into slits. “I do not despise you.”

“Really? You made me feel otherwise.”

Sighing, he ran his hands through his hair again, feeling much more exhausted than he did after the meetings ended. “You do not have to make this so difficult, you know. I am trying to fix this.”

The laugh you let out is sardonic, teetering on the edges of borderline angry. But he would take it – because arguments with you were better than having you ignore him, and he would take a thousand more arguments if it meant you talked. He would consume your wrath over your coldness every other day. Even when you cross your arms and look at him like he was the most vile creature to ever walk the Earth – because your eyes are on him, and in that moment, in the middle of another of a hundred hallways in his Palace, there was no one else but you and him. A husband and his wife. A Prince and his Princess.

“Oh, are you now? Because last time I checked, you were still in love with someone else, and I’m still nothing but a pawn in your silly game.”

“I may be in love with someone else, but it was you who I couldn’t get off my mind.”

“Is that supposed to make my heart flutter?”

You reel back as if burnt, and Rintarou couldn’t fathom why your expression hurt him so much. As if his declaration, his vulnerability, of being putty in your hands repulsed you instead of excited you. However, he refused to show he hung desperately to your every word, refused to admit that you held all the power in your hands, not him. So, he plays it off, and flirtingly lifts a brow just to get you even more riled up.

“I was hoping it would.”

“Whatever it is you’re planning, Rintaro, you won’t win.”

His eyes darkened. Suddenly, all self-restraint he previously had had been thrown out the window. The urge to press his lips to you – yes, those same lips scowling at him – becomes all too consuming. He fools himself into taking the heat in your eyes as desire instead of anger. And he takes one step forward, two, then three, until your back hits the wall and his large frame prevents you from escaping. He liked you best here, he realized, under his mercy and staring up at him with your soft lips, pliant and open to release a gasp when he leans in. Closer, closer, only for his lips to meet the skin of your cheek.

Rintaro stifled a disappointed groan.

Masking it with a chuckle, he trailed his lips down your cheek and to your jawline, all the way until he’s inhaling your intoxicating scent – he wants your damned perfume to stick to his skin for days to come so everyone in the Palace knows he is yours. And like a flower, you bloom only to him. Craning your neck and pushing your chest upwards to his despite your resistance, breathing hard and heavy to let him know he wasn’t the only one affected by this.

And by the Gods, he wanted nothing more than to take you in this wall right here and then.

Brushing his lips just above your pulse point, Rintaro smiled. Your heart was beating a mile a minute, and he was certain his was, too, when you began to crumple his shirt in your hands. “I never knew my name could sound so important without the titles attached to it.”

“Wh–what?” your query came out breathily. Not that he could blame you, for his words have also begun to sound more like a whisper.

“Rintaro,” he echoed, nosing your neck to greedily take in more of your scent. If not on his skin, then he will settle for the evidence of you all over his clothes – and damned the servants who dared wash his dress shirt. “Not Prince, not Your Highness. Just Rintaro. It makes me feel like… it is just you and I, husband and wife, as simple as that,” you draw in another gasp just as his fingers start ghosting over your waist, fighting the urge to pin you in place, or to just hold you delicately because he knew he’d broken you enough. Rintaro felt weak, his head dropping in the column of your shoulder. “I truly did miss you. And I do not like how I spent many nights, in our bed, alone.”

“You do not deserve to share a bed with me.”

“I know,” he lamented, and that firm resolve of keeping him at a distance was enough to wake him up. Pushing himself off of you, Rintaro took a solid minute to admire you like this – lips parted, expectant for a kiss, and skin flushed with a thin layer of sweat, with eyes so bewildered he could see himself clearly in the reflection – that he was just a man now, and not really the husband you wanted him to be. Once he had his fill, Rintaro smoothed down the wrinkles you fisted in his shirt and took a step back. “But you do not deserve to sleep in just a couch. Take the bed tonight. I will sleep outside.”

“But that’s–”

“I’m the one who fucked up,” he smirked, sarcasm dripping from his face, “So I should be the one sleeping uncomfortably. I know I cannot tell you what to do, and neither do I plan on ordering you around, but this is the one thing you cannot argue with me on. You will take the bed. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Back to titles. Back to formality. Back to reality.

“Good girl,” he murmured absentmindedly, nodding in the direction of your bedroom. “Let us head back to our quarters. I’m buying you a new dress for the ball first thing in the morning.”

To say Rintaro had changed would be an understatement.

He was a completely different person than your husband in the honeymoon. It was as if… last night’s intimate encounter had brought him back to the Rintaro you fell in love with, but this time it felt different. He felt more intense. Maybe it was the fact that his secrets were now laid out in the open, which could mean his attentive actions toward you no longer held the purpose of winning you over. Maybe now he truly just wanted to spend time with you because he could.

Cancelling his plans for the day, he’d told the servants you were going out shopping, and oh, what a cunning, devilish Prince he is. He knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off of him out in public. With so many eyes watching, you spent nearly every second of the day with your arms looped around his, laughing and smiling at every word he said, and not daring to keep your eyes off him lest someone took a photographed and headlined it ‘Newly Married Royal Couple Having Their First Lovers’ Spat In Public.’ No. No, that would be catastrophic. The Queen would be furious.

Here, in public, you were forced to act sweet and touchy with him, to which the stupid Crown Prince basked in as he led you from boutique to boutique. He complimented you on everything, even when you wore a hideous bright orange gown that made even the designer flinch. But in Rintaro’s eyes, you were simply mesmerizing. He even got a suit that matched all of your dresses, claiming that everyone should know he was married to you. Everyone already knew that – the whole world knew – but you didn’t want to burst his bubble.

Aside from having a day off, your husband genuinely did seem to be doing things other than paperwork.

You stopped being kind once you entered the car, however, when the windows had rolled up and you had both stopped waving to the people. Here, it was just the driver and the both of you, and the driver knew better than to comment on whatever happened, anyway. Sighing, you scooted to the other end of the seat, prying yourself off of Rintaro’s tight grip around your waist.

“Drop the act.”

“What act?”

“Oh, please,” you scoffed, taking off your gloves and folding them neatly in your lap. “We are in the privacy of our car. You needn’t pretend any longer.”

“Who said I was pretending?”

You looked at him dead in the eye. “You are not fooling anyone. This was all a PR act – you did not actually mean whatever it is you said to me out there, but worry not. I’ll get out of your hair and divorce you – surely that will make everything easier.”

The way Rintaro’s eyes nearly popped out of his head would be comical if he didn’t look so scared. In a flash, your husband crossed the distance and sat next to you, his hurried movements causing his bangs to fall into his eyes. His large hands began to engulf yours, and you suck in a breath – without the gloves, it felt more intimate. “What divorce?” he chuckled nervously, brushing his lips over your bare knuckles. It was the faintest of touches, only done to appease you, but it still didn’t stop the bolt of heat coursing through your thighs. Gods, it was just so hard trying to stay mad at him.

“You know that’s impossible. Royal marriages are forever. Look, if you truly wish to divorce me, fine. But you know you will have to help me become King first. Once I am crowned, I can write a new law that says royal couples can be separated.”

“You are despicable.”

“I am,” he whined. Whined! Seriously, who was this man? “But I promise you, if you help me, I will let you go. Look, I’ll even find a high–ranking nobleman for you. The best of the best. You wouldn’t have to be lonely anymore. Just… don’t ever mention divorce to me right now. I won’t let you.”

Scoffing, you pull your hands back from his heavenly lips. “You seriously think after everything, loneliness is somehow my biggest issue?” Rintaro opened his mouth to retort, but you shook your head, making yourself small between him and the window seat. You hated it, how helpless you felt, from wanting his touch to being burnt by it. You hated it even more how you couldn’t look him in the eye as you mumbled, “Have you ever thought that maybe I just want to forget you?”

“I do not want you to,” he breathed out, and your eyes snapped shut when you felt his fingers brush over your cheeks. “But I am not so selfish to deprive you of a good thing. You will find someone who can love you better than I could.”

Your heart fell.

“Well, that would be easy. You never loved me to begin with.”

The Crown Prince never spoke again. You both mulled over your silences as you arrived back at the Palace, heading into the bathroom to do your nightly routines. Rintaro was to your left, taking out his razor blade and shaving foam while you stood to his right, lathering on your cleanser and toner. Thankfully, the silence did not feel as heavy as it did on the ride back home, but it was still far from being comfortable. It was only after you’d moisturized and turned to leave the room that Rintaro caught your wrist, glancing down at you with a pleading expression.

“Please. Can we stop fighting? I thought today was fun. Let us not end it hating each other.”

“I’m sorry, Your Highness, if I ruined your precious day,” you snapped, leaning back to examine how he missed a spot below his jaw. A slight stubble was visible, but you had to stop your hand from reaching out to him. You sighed. “All this space in the Palace and they couldn’t give us separate bathrooms?”

“Traditionally, royal married couples slept in separate rooms. Everything was separate, too, including bathrooms,” he gestured around you, “Perhaps you would’ve liked the old ways.”

Screw it. The small talk is the most awkward thing you have ever experienced.

“…You missed a spot,” you finally mumbled, taking his razor from him and gesturing for him to crouch down so you can reach. “Do you want me to finish it?”

Rintaro, despite his surprise, nodded and obeyed. It must have been uncomfortable for him to slouch, but he did so without complaints. He let you shave him as you saw fit, turning his head side to side, lathering on more foam, and you watched as his shoulders visibly deflated. Eyes fluttering close, Rintaro sighed, the tips of his fingers gingerly tracing circles as they laid beside your hips.

“You will take the bed as discussed,” he reminded, “You will not argue with me on this.”

“Okay,” you answered, because you, too, had no energy for more arguments. Once you were done with him, you wiped off the rest of the foam with a warm, wet towel. You both left the bathroom and went your separate ways – you to your king–sized bed, and him just outside the bedroom and into the lounge room, where you spent the past few nights sleeping. You realized he must not be sleeping well from it because of his large frame, yet Rintaro did not seem to mind.

Just as he was about to close the door, he lingered for a few beats.

“Thank you for going along the happily married couple act today,” he said, lifting his gaze from the carpeted floors to gaze into your eyes. “And for the record, I meant it when I said you looked beautiful.”

Then he turned, and swiftly closed the door, leaving you to be with your thoughts – all filled of him.

It didn’t help that the sheets and pillows still lingered with his scent.

You had your upcoming ball to thank for distracting you from your confusing feelings for your husband. That in itself was such a ridiculous statement, but one that ringed true. After Rintaro’s surprising gentleness, and the revelation from Maiko that he hadn’t spoken at all with Iris, you were now in a dangerous zone called Getting Your Hopes Up. Truly, you should know better. You had known Rintaro for years to know he could be effortlessly charming. He could have you wrapped tight around his finger, smiling like a lovesick fool, only for him to break your heart once more.

If not for that cold, hard truth, you would have invited him to bed with you that night. It seemed too tempting. It felt like the right thing to do. But you didn’t, and you were glad you held back on your desire, because you weren’t sure you could handle another heartbreak.

Especially because these past few days made you realize one thing – that you were still in love with him. The next morning, you found yourself wishing you had woken up next to him, and that was enough to make you avoid your husband all over again. And much to your disappointment, Rintaro stopped trying to chase after you, too, after countless rejections on your part. He had kept his distance, and only spoke with you momentarily when you arrived at your mother’s ball and had to exchange niceties with everyone.

After that, your husband excused himself and spoke with his brothers, but not after your parents couldn’t stop cooing at how adorable you and the Crown Prince were. He handled it with grace; kissing your cheek and thanking them for raising such a wonderful daughter. But the moment your parents became occupied with welcoming other guests, you were now left to entertain the other women in the ball.

Until the music began playing.

Until your song reverberated all across the room.

“This is the song you and the Crown Prince danced to the night you met,” your mother whispered beside you, giggling in your ear. “I requested it specifically for this night. Enjoy the dance with your husband. He’s already waiting.”

True to her word, you could feel Rintaro’s heated gaze on you from across the room. He’d stopped speaking with his brothers – the twins smirking beside him, Akaashi smiling at you softly, Tobio waving enthusiastically while nursing a glass of wine, and Kita firmly hovering from the walls with a concerned frown. Not that you paid attention to them. Your gaze was held by your husband and him only, bewitched as he started walking forward. The crowed parted for him like a true Prince until nothing stood in his way. Everyone smiled, giggling behind their gloves at the apparent ‘romance in the air.’ Beside you, your mother pushed you encouragingly, and you could feel everyone’s eyes on you, waiting to see if you would take the Crown Prince’s outstretched hands.

“My love,” he whispered above your gloved hands, and your heart skipped a beat. He didn’t call you Princess, or Your Highness. You knew it was for the sake of keeping appearances, but by the Gods, you loved him. You were so hopelessly in love with your husband that you placed your heart in his hands once more, silently pleading with him not to break it as he led you in the middle of the dance floor. “May I have this dance?”

“Yes,” you breathed out, your hand resting on his shoulder as naturally as his arms came to your waist. The exact same movements from the night you first met, with the same song, but with your love for him stronger tonight than it did when you first laid your eyes on him.

This time, you danced as man and wife, and you recalled his words from the other day.

How there were moments it seemed so simple – where there were no titles, just you and him, having this dance like it was the most natural, inexplicable thing in this world.

The chord struck. The crowd parted. He took the first step in the dance, and you took a step back. Not once did you tear your gaze away from him, happily drowning in the depths of his hazel eyes you could look at forever. And isn’t that what you’d always wanted? To spend a lifetime with him, to grow old together. It would have been so easy if it weren’t for –

“Don’t think about anything else,” your husband shook his head lightly, “Just enjoy this moment. Tonight, there is only you and I.”

“Okay,” you found yourself nodding, and his grip on your waist tightened for a second. “Just you and I.”

Rintaro’s lips curled into the faintest of smiles. “Just you and I.”

You and him in those moments – you felt immortal. Like nothing could stand in your way. Or perhaps you could die tonight, and you would die happy. Because you were in your husband’s arms, and he was looking at you and only you, murmuring how you were becoming more and more beautiful with each passing day. You were melting in his arms, like goo. Like pudding. And he was strong enough to catch you, to brush his nose against yours at each dip, or letting his lips linger on your forehead each time you came back to him with each spin.

But happy moments never lasted long enough, and soon the rotations were beginning. More couples have joined the dance floor. Through one spin, you caught sight of Tooru and Maiko. Neither of them looked happy, but Tooru visibly brightened when he caught your eye, and shamelessly winked. On the other side of the room danced Iris and Kiyoomi, with the latter looking so nauseous you worried dinner would be spilled on your mother’s floor. And then too soon, Rintaro’s hands were leaving yours as he moved to the nearest dance partner, and you were caught by a pair of strong, muscled arms.

“My turn,” Tooru teased, a grin now on his handsome face as he nudged his head in Rintaro’s direction. He was now dancing with your mother, and you could tell, even from this distance, the smile he wore was genuine. “Should I beat him up?”

You chuckled, throwing your head back. Despite his jokes and jabs, Prince Tooru was a surprisingly great dancer – less stiff than Rintaro, and more confident in his receiving when you spun and dipped. But dancing with him did not feel the same. There was no passion, no yearning, no longing – just the lighthearted air of good humor and his calming nature.

“I don’t think beating the Crown Prince up would be a very wise decision.”

“Indeed, but I was never the Prince known for making wise decisions. That would be more Shinsuke’s forte,” he snorted, and the song reached a part for another rotation. However, Tooru refused to let you go and intentionally spun you away from what was supposed to be your next dance partner. Out of shock, you slapped his chest, and his broad chest rumbled with laughter.

“Your Highness! That was unbelievably rude!”

“As I have said,” you both laughed when he spun you again, “I am not the Prince known to be socially adept.”

You bent over in giggles, your head resting on his chest as you danced more throughout the night. Your feet were getting tired, but your mother was right – this was a night to enjoy. You danced to your heart’s content, exchanging jokes with the handsome Fifth Prince until you craned your neck to the side, only to be stopped by Prince Tooru’s large hand. This time, he no longer smiled as he gazed upon the dancing partners behind you, and your skin turned cold.

You had a feeling you knew exactly why.

“Don’t look. You won’t like what you’ll see.”

Nodding, you pursed your lips and forced a smile at him. “It’s okay, Princess,” he comforted, “Just look at me. You need not concern yourself with others.”

So you danced, and danced, until you could hear your father pleading with the Fifth Prince to give his daughter back because he didn’t get a chance to have a dance with you yet. Reluctantly, Tooru handed you over to your father, but not without a faux frown.

“That was a lovely dance, Your Highness. I wish we could’ve danced more.”

“I think we danced enough.”

Tooru’s smile was guarded; secretive. “I’m afraid it was not enough.”

You danced with your father next. And it was lovely, seeing him up close with all his smile lines and wrinkles. You missed him so, dearly, and he felt the same way. It hurt having to lie to him when he asked how you were settling in the Palace, but you didn’t want to concern him with your personal matters, and for some reason, it didn’t sit well with you if your father disliked Rintaro. So you swallowed your discomfort down and told him everything was great – silently wishing he wouldn’t pry further. He didn’t. And when the song slowed, your father kissed you on the cheek before letting you meet with your next dancing partner.

Stood in front of you was a great wall of what could only be described as majestic. Dressed in white with gold ornaments, Prince Kiyoomi’s curls framed his handsome face beautifully. You had been so accustomed seeing him in more comfortable clothing, and in the privacy of his own home, that seeing him out here in society, it reminded you that he, too, was a Prince.

The Second Prince – the would have been next King should Ushijima and Rintaro falter.

“My Prince.”

“Princess,” he bowed, taking your hand in his as you made your way back to the dance floor. The music played again, this time louder, and the Prince leaned down until his lips were brushing against the shell of your ear. You repressed a gasp, unable to help yourself from digging your nails into his palm when you were greeted by how good he smelled – like mint, new leather, and pine. It also dawned on you how tall and firm the Prince was – perhaps taller and more muscular than Rintaro.

“Y–Yes, Your Highness?”

“Remind me to thank your mother for extending her invites to the forgotten Prince. Imagine my shock when I saw her invitation letter this morning.”

You chuckled nervously, thankful that he had now slightly tilted his head back. “I hardly doubt you are a forgotten prince.”

He snorted, effortlessly spinning you with one hand. “It’s not like I do my duties to begin with. I wouldn’t be surprised if I truly was forgotten,” distracted by his scent, you unknowingly stepped on the hem of your dress and slipped backwards. A scream nearly tore out your throat when the Prince’s large hands cupped the small of your back, your chest pressed to his and his curls brushing against your cheeks as he held you close. “Careful.”

“Th–thank you.”

You were a mess after that. You were never the best dancer, but something about being in the older Prince’s presence made you extra nervous. If he noticed, he didn’t comment on it. He simply danced with grace, and hid his grimace well each time you stepped on his toes. He had also convinced you to stop apologizing every time you did, and by the time the dance was over, you were more than ready to disappear.

“Thank you for the dance, my Prince,” you bowed, words hurried, “I shall see you–”

“Kiyoomi!” a woman appeared out of nowhere, her thick, dark curls pinned up beautifully with some loose strands swaying in time with her hips. She had the same moles as Kiyoomi, and you watched, entranced, as the older woman wrapped her arm casually around the prince. The two shared a silent conversation with their eyes before Kiyoomi glanced at you, and the woman followed his line of sight. “Oh! Your Highness. Greetings. I don’t believe I have introduced myself before – I’m Kanami; Kiyoomi’s mother.”

You smiled at her, politely taking her hand as she extracted herself from her son’s arms and taken to draping herself all over you. Discomfort must be written all over your face, because the Second Prince sent an apologetic smile your way.

“It is an honor to meet you, Miss Kanami. Are you enjoying the night so far? The travel all the way from Itachiyama must have been exhausting.”

“Oh, it was, but it’s all worth it now that we’ve met again!” she squealed, and you paled.

“We have met before?”

Just as she nodded and went about to retelling this so–called meeting, Iris popped up behind Kiyoomi, her smile stiff as she regarded Kanami. Instantly, your mood soured. She hadn’t spoken to you at all tonight, which you were thankful, but something about the thought of her dancing with your husband, and probably being suggestive while at it had your blood boiling.

“Mother! Such a shock seeing you here. I wasn’t aware you were invited.”

Kanami barely glanced her way, her dark, curious eyes still on your face.

“Hello, Iris, and it’s Miss Sakusa, dear,” she corrected, her enthusiastic smile momentarily fading into a scowl before it returned. “Say, Your Highness, since you’re still on your honeymoon period – and I’ve heard your dear husband is too busy these days – would you want to come visit Itachiyama with me? I would be honored to be your host. It will also be a great opportunity to learn more about your Princess duties and politics!” leaning closer, she whispered behind her gloves, although her words were loud enough to be heard by Prince Tooru and Iris. “Although if I will be honest, politics does not interest me in the least bit.”

Your mouth fell open and closed, unsure of what to say, until you settled on chuckling and patting her hand wrapped around your arm. “I… Thank you for invitation, Kanami. I am most tempted to see your beautiful country, but Princess Iris should be the one visiting her territory, should she not?”

Kanami scrunched her nose.“The Princess never grew up in Itachiyama. She would be just as clueless as you. Besides, I have always wanted to invite you over ever since you had Kiyoomi as your last dance on your eighteenth birthday!”

“He… was?”

“He was! Don’t you remember, dear?” she turned to Kiyoomi, who looked like he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him already. But judging by his reaction, it seemed true – Kiyoomi was your last dance on your debut ball. “Well, in that case, I was always fond of you. I may be crossing the line here, but it was always a famous royal saying that whoever was your last dance on your debutante ball was your destined lover.”

#suna rintaro x reader #suna x reader #suna rintarou angst #suna x yn #haikyuu x reader #suna rintarou x reader #rintaro suna x reader #kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x reader fluff #kiyoomi sakusa x you #suna x you #tooru oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #suna rintarō x reader #suna rintarō x you #series: dusk till dawn

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blackleatherjacketz · 4 months

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Shadow and Sin: Chapter 3

Klaus Mikaelson x Female Reader

Summary: Having just moved to New Orleans, you get intimately acquainted with both Mikaelson brothers, but don't find out who they truly are until it's too late.

This Chapter: Your brother warns you against Elijah, so you get a Tarot reading to clear things up, only to be interrupted by Klaus.

Warnings: Brotherly Warnings, Witches, Alcohol, Tarot, Compulsion, Negging, Manipulation, Holding Hands, Kissing, Biting, Blood Play

Word Count: 2.7k+

Read the rest of the story HERE

“That Elijah guy really creeps me out, you know.” Austin tells you as he haphazardly enters your apartment. He makes his way over to the middle of your living room before throwing himself down on the sofa, opening his Styrofoam container of pad Thai

“Creeps you out? You met him for like five seconds!” You juggle your to-go box and two bottles of water as you kick the refrigerator door shut, setting them both down on the coffee table next to him. Your brother always had something bad to say about the men whose company you kept, but he seemed painfully vigilant about this one. “What do you even mean?”

“I dunno, sis, there’s something off about him. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but like… who wears a three piece suit like that in New Orleans?” He shakes his head and takes a bite of his noodles as if he hadn’t eaten in days, which very may well be the case. “And an all black one, at that?”

“Maybe he’s a local,” you argue with a shrug, having noticed that particular strange detail yourself. “Maybe the heat doesn’t bother him like it bothers us?”

“No, his accent isn’t from here.” He shakes his head and takes another bite before taking his time to swallow. “Whatever it is, I don’t like it. You’re always way too trusting of people, and it’s going to get the best of you one of these days.”

“Oh, shut up, you don’t like anyone.” You roll your eyes and twist the noodles onto your fork, slightly blowing for them to cool. “Maybe he just came from a funeral… or maybe he’s a vampire, and that’s why he’s cold enough to wear all those layers.” You joke with a dramatic tone, finally taking your first bite.

“Vampires aren’t real, sis. How many times do I have to tell you that?” Despite living in the most magical city in the world, your brother remains one of the most defiantly skeptical people you’d ever known. He refuses to believe in the supernatural despite the local legends, convinced instead that Louisiana has the highest homicide rate in the country due to the fault of human beings alone.

“So, what is it this time, then, huh? The vibes are off? His handshake wasn’t as strong as you wanted it to be? He didn’t look you in the eye for the correct amount of time before looking back down at the floor?” You call him out of his chronically obsessive behavior, referencing reasons he’s given you in the past for not liking certain people. “All we did was talk about books, anyway.”

“Uh-huh.” It was his turn to roll his eyes as he chewed on his noodles. “I know that look.”

“What look?” You ask sheepishly, hoping you weren’t imagining how Elijah was staring at you in the library.

“Just be careful.”

———————————————

The city is more alive after your brother passes out on your couch, and you slip out into the heavy night air, leaving him nothing but a note that you locked up tight and would be back before morning. You know you’d never hear the end of it if you didn’t tell him where you were, even if he had never done the same for you in return. Classic Austin.

The absence of the sun does little to bring down the temperature and humidity of this place, making it feel as if a thick blanket of heat rests on your shoulders, wrapping itself around your torso and legs as you attempt to seem unaffected by it, the beads of sweat on your skin no doubt giving you away. Everyone else in the crowd around you either seems to embrace it, not to notice, or be far too inebriated to even care. You duck in between a few drunk and disorderly tourists, a splash of watermelon slushie getting spilled in your hair before you’re able to walk into the voodoo shop that most people were too scared to enter.

“You shouldn’t be here, baby. It’s dangerous after dark.” The old lady behind the counter tells you, looking up from her ancient spell book. The wrinkles on her face tell the story of decades of magic, of life in the quarter that your brother would never even pretend to believe as the power within her vibrates the air around you, reminding you of what drew you to this city to begin with.

“The sign out front says that you do tarot readings.” You pull a twenty dollar bill out of your pocket and gently place it on the counter, pushing it toward her. “Would you be willing to do one for me?”

“You sure you want that?” Her voice is cautious as she looks you over, her eyes whitened with age as they peer into your very soul.

“I’m sure.” You’ve been dying to have your cards read so that you might know what to expect, to see if the fates can prove your brother wrong about his misconceptions about the man in the library.

“Alright, baby.” She smiles and shuffles the deck, slowly singing a song to herself in the process as three cards slowly fall out onto the counter in front of you. “Let’s see, here.”

She turns the first one over slowly before looking up at you, almost as if to make sure you’re paying attention. “The Moon. You’re going to have to choose between two paths, although it may not be clear which one is good and which one is bad. You can rely on the light of the moon to guide you, though, child. Don’t forget that.” She wags a finger in your face and turns the next card over. “The Emperor, a strong masculine figure will enter your life. He is rigid on control and order, but he’s also one who will serve you well. Don’t dismiss him too quickly, now.” She smiles at you before her hand hovers over the last card for what seems like forever, shaking a little before flipping it upright.

“The King of Swords… reversed.” She gives you a wary look, inhaling deeply before lifting her palm up to face you, as if that will help ease your mind somehow. “Don’t you worry now…”

“Don’t worry? You look worried!” Your eyes widen as your heart begins to race, wondering what could be so damn scary about this card that could frighten this old woman to the point of shaking.

Before she can answer you, the bell jingling above the door breaks your train of thought. The woman’s face suddenly drops as if she’d just seen a ghost, her expression far worse than when she saw your third card. She pats your hand affectionately as if to tell you that she’s all done with you, that you can go now, before letting go of your fingers. Without a word, she hurriedly collects your cards, making sure to shuffle them evenly back into the deck before taking a deep breath and glancing up at the new customer.

“What have we here? A little midnight tarot reading, is it?” You’d recognize that voice anywhere as it resonates deep within your bones, his very presence prickling your skin into an uneven pattern of excitable gooseflesh. “Consulting the fates before deciding to give me a call, love?”

“No harm in that, is there?” The woman answers for you, plastering a more believable smile onto her face as your benefactor slowly approaches the both of you.

“I suppose not.” He looks at you with a dark grin before addressing her again. “And what did the cards tell you this time, Marie? Anything you’d like to share with the class?”

“You know I can’t tell you that. The reading’s for her, and her alone.” She continues to shuffle the deck, making sure to lose your cards along the way. “Although I’d be happy to read your cards if you’d like.”

“Oh, I don’t think that will be necessary.” He smirks, standing right next to you as he leans against the counter. “I’ve had them read more than enough times in my lifetime.”

God, he smells good.

“What can I do for you this time, wolf?” Marie asks him with a pained familiarity.

“Wolf?” You repeat, trying to make sense of the growing knot tying into your stomach.

Klaus laughs nervously, turning that angelic face of his toward you. “That’s just a little term of endearment Marie uses for me.” He pauses and waits for her to agree with a silent nod. “Wolf, baby, love, darling… you’ve heard one, you’ve heard them all, isn’t that right, love?”

“That’s right, ‘love’,” she corrects herself.

You can tell that Marie’s afraid of him. You can see it in her eyes, plain as day, but for some reason, as soon as Klaus looks at you, you hear a voice in your head telling you not to fear him. It calms your nerves and reassures you that her trepidation is unfounded, telling you that you can trust him with your life. It’s a new, very odd feeling that makes the knot in your stomach seem to unravel and disappear entirely without much of an explanation at all.

————————————————

“I was right about you, wasn’t I? You’re a believer.” Klaus glances over at you knowingly as you lead him through the quarter toward your apartment. Although his tone is light and flirty, his eyes are very serious.

“A believer? What happened to me being morbidly disturbed?” You vaguely remember the three cards Marie had given you, but decide not to focus on them for now. Instead you decide to focus on how closely his hand brushes against yours with each stride, how electric it makes you feel as he walks beside you.

“I don’t see why the two can’t coexist within that beautiful body of yours.” He raises an eyebrow as his pinky finger hooks in between your thumb and forefinger, sending a jolt of warmth up your spine. “As your benefactor and mentor, I find it my duty to inform you of the dangers that lurk in the darkest corners of this city, witches being one of them.”

“Witchcraft is real?” You ask point blank, cutting through any witty banter you might otherwise throw his way.

“Oh, I’m afraid so, love. Every story you’ve ever heard hushed whispers of, every suspicious tradition carried on by the locals, every legend of lore uttered by a tour guide…they’re all true. It’s a way of hiding in plain sight. They get to practice their way of life while the tourists are none the wiser. It’s a pretty convenient arrangement, really.”

“And you know all this, how?” Your heart skips a beat as he speaks so plainly about the supernatural presence in this city, giving you hope that you’ve found a like-minded person. You’ve always suspected that the stories were true, but never talked about it with anyone this openly.

“Oh, I’ve lived here for centuries,” he exaggerates with a cocky glare. “But it won’t take you that long to notice all the magic that’s in this city, to see just how dangerous it can be for someone like you.”

“Someone like me? What does that mean? Every city is dangerous, Klaus.” You take his warning with a grain of salt, but you still heed it, keeping his words in the back of your head and saving them for later. “And what do you mean, my mentor?” You allow him to take hold of your hand completely, wrapping his fingers around it with a squeeze.

“Did I fail to mention that I’m a painter, as well?” He laughs as you turn a corner on the sidewalk, your apartment building just a few doors down now. “It must have slipped my mind the moment I saw you and your work.” He gives you a beguiling smirk, his lips flushing a light rosy hue. “You were both so enchanting.”

“Really?” You smile at his confession, blushing at his compliment. “What do you paint?” That smirk of his suggests that he feels the growing warmth that’s spreading all over your chest and neck as it slowly makes its way into your core, that maybe he’s been feeling it all along.

“I tend to focus a bit more on abstract ideas, landscapes, skylines, things like that. Painting for me is a way to… clear my head when I need to escape, but it’s nothing as political or bold as your work.” He pauses, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb. “That being said, with the right funding and guidance, I think yours could be astoundingly better.”

“Better?” You try not to sound offended, but his words cut like a knife as you arrive at your doorstep, steeping in the awkward silence before he speaks again.

Does he even like your artwork at all?

“Oh, don’t be cross with me, love.” He releases your hand and slowly turns toward you, plating both palms over your hair to better look into your eyes. “The things I could show you if only you’d let me into your mind, into your creative process, in here,” he presses his middle and forefinger against your chest, pointing at your heart as he brings his face closer to yours. “I could help you discover so many new things, teach you techniques you haven’t even dreamed of, make you see stars brighter than the hottest summer’s day.”

Is he still talking about art?

His words fan that warmth inside you into a spark, unable to stop your body’s chemical reaction to his touch or the hypnotic sound of his velvety voice. You know deep down that something that burns this hot can’t possibly keep you alight for very long, but like a moth to the flame, you can’t help but be drawn to the fire within him. It’s been so long since you’ve allowed yourself to be consumed by anyone else’s madness, to be engulfed by their passion, but if this is what burns you down to mere embers, then so be it.

“I can do that.” You nod, eyelids fluttering as his lips feather over yours, parting ever so slightly before you decide to stand on your tiptoes and kiss him.

He tastes just as good as he smells, the faint flavor of whiskey and copper parting your lips as you breathe in his citrusy scent, committing it to memory. You moan as his tongue clashes against yours, exciting every neuron in your body as your hands end up in his dirty blonde curls, tugging and pulling him in even closer to you. You can feel his breath quicken as his chest rises and falls against yours, his hands mapping out every inch of your neck and shoulders as he greedily sucks your bottom lip between his teeth. Step by step, he walks you backward against the wall, his hips needily pinning you in place as his kiss greedily deepens to the point of breaking your skin.

You gasp as he pulls back just enough for you to notice your blood on his lip, his eyes seeming to darken with desire before he languidly licks it off, looking you in the eye to see how you’ll react.

Your eyes widen, uncertain if you’re actually witnessing what you think you are. Did he just bite down hard enough to draw blood and then… lick it?

He holds onto you with that wanton stare, watching the wheels turn inside your head as you try to register what’s happening. He tilts his head to the side to see if fear or disgust will override your carnal desire for him before he gently brushes his thumb across your bottom lip, collecting the rest of your blood. The salt of his skin stings your exposed tissue as he tugs it downward before bringing it up to his own mouth to taste.

“Klaus,” you start, the pain in your lip barely outweighing your need to keep kissing him.

The sight of your blood on his lips somehow triggers something deep within you, something he already knew was there from the very second he laid eyes on you. Like some kind of dark and twisted Manchurian Candidate, he knew exactly how to draw it out of you, how to give you just enough to make you want a little bit more. How did he know something about you that you didn’t even know about yourself?

He merely grins in response, sucking his bloodstained thumb as he keeps those enchanting eyes of his locked onto yours. “I look forward to mentoring you, love.”

#klaus mikaelson #niklaus mikaelson #the originals #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson imagine #klaus mikaelson x you #joseph morgan

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blasphemecel · 6 months

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Michael Kaiser, Alexis Ness — Food Analogy

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader/Alexis Ness WORD COUNT: 3.3k TYPE: Humor, Bad Flirting (it's never been worse), Rivalry WARNING(S): Canon-typical football derangement, tw Kaiser, tw Ness, tw Y/n 💀 NOTE: This is the Dog Walking origin story does anyone remember me hi?

Believe it or not, Isagi never took you for a nutcase. Can your words sometimes be a bit absurd in nature? Over the top, maybe? Yes, but the environment you’re in is easy to blame. Otherwise, you’re a respectable individual, if not aloof, always keeping a certain distance from everyone else.

This is all to say, there is no way Isagi could’ve anticipated the utter nightmare he is in the middle of right now. If there was, he would’ve ran away the moment he heard your footsteps approaching after Kaiser blocked his shot and gave him that shitty speech.

You seem to have witnessed the whole thing, and with Kaiser gone, you wrap an arm around Isagi’s shoulders. “Do you know what he said to you?”

“In German?” asks Isagi, confused. “No.”

“What’s so special about you that one of the New Gen World XI players is picking a fight with you, huh? Because it was the last goal? He didn’t even glance at me and I finished the course before you.” Your eyes narrow at him with easy, second-nature condescension. It’s the first time you’ve hurled such provocations his way. “You’re always hogging the spotlight, you know?”

Isagi huffs, annoyed by your attitude. “Try harder in the next match, then. I don’t know what you want me to do. I’ll devour you either way.”

“Stop telling people you’re gonna devour them, you cannibal. It’s so tasteless.” You click your tongue, bemused by his lack of style — no wonder you get along with Aryu — and then you gesture at Ness and Kaiser in the distance. “Look at him. He even has a servant. It’s not fair. I want someone to do my bidding!”

“Why are you acting so childish right now?”

You push him off of you like you weren’t the one who got so close to him in the first place, then stalk up to Kaiser and Ness with the confidence of someone on a mission. At this point, Isagi knows he should look away, and yet his attention is glued to whatever is about to ensue like he’s a spectator of a car crash.

Ness offers you a fake smile and reaches out to hand you the same translation gadget he’d given Isagi earlier, but, of course, because you’re insane, you decide the most appropriate course of action is to take out one of his and shove it in your ear. He blinks.

“You seem vulnerable and easy to boss around,” you say. Wow, what a first impression. Ness’s smile slips. “I’m looking for a henchman or a goon or something similar. Are you interested?” Then you address Kaiser. “That was a cute little show you put on for Isagi. For how long did you practice it?”

“It was improvised,” he lies.

“Sure it was.”

“Who the hell are you?” Kaiser shoos you away with a wave of his hand. “Third rate actor trying to intrude on my stage. Bo-ring.”

Isagi cannot discern if Kaiser doesn’t recognize you from the U-20 match for real or if he’s just pretending in order to insult you, but his best guess is that you’re going to make him… very aware of your identity after this.

___

This is, perhaps, the most insulting thing to ever happen to Isagi.

The field falls into a conclusive silence, everyone still lingering by whatever spot they’d been in during the game before it finished. Isagi knows he’s staring at you like a serial killer, eyes drilling holes into your side profile with utmost offense. The football-induced neurosis he usually gets lost in while playing is yet to wear off, which is probably why he’s taking this to heart.

Without a doubt, you were ahead of him at least in the final moment, despite failing to stand out for the rest of the match. You’d predicted he wouldn’t cave in and pass to Kaiser and got in range, jumping in between them out of nowhere, stealing what was supposed to be Kunigami’s goal.

Though what made your outplaying him so galling is that it was all a way of picking a fight with fucking Kaiser. Not even with him, but with Kaiser. His act of relenting — of not trying to score on his own because of concepts like rationality and recognizing limits — became an instrument in this stupid fight you’ve been picking.

Then Isagi watches you figuratively spit in Kaiser’s face because, of course, your obnoxious ass can’t just win and leave it at that. No, unnecessary amounts of gloating seem to be what you run on, and now you grab Kaiser by the chin and mock his introduction, “On your knees, Bastard München.”

This is the worst transgression of Kaiser’s life. You’ve addressed him like he is a dull, unnoteworthy part of a collective, not even bothering to say his name while sporting the shittiest sneer he has ever seen. He’s pissed, and all he can do is stare in confusion. Despite his long going career as an instigator, this response (to his general existence and demeanor) is still somehow unique and, worse, effective.

When you let go of him, you withdraw your fingers from his face like he’s dirty. You shrug, then raise your hands in the air in a victorious manner, and you look happier than Isagi has ever seen you before. “Ta da. All eyes on me.”

But the shitshow doesn’t appear to be anywhere near over because while everyone else is frozen, you’re approaching him now, unperturbed by the attention you’re receiving as if it’s your birthright. Like you were made for the spotlight.

“Isagi, didn’t you say you were going to ‘devour’ me?” you ask once you’re right in front of him, your exterior growing more complacent by the minute. “Didn’t you challenge me? Seems to me like I’m too big for you to chew.”

If nothing else, though, unbeknownst to himself, Isagi, too, is insane. He has unreasonable amounts of determination and loves when things get difficult just so he can chase the satisfaction of overcoming them, among his other eccentricities. “This was just one match. We’re one for one now. I’ll defeat all of-”

“What are you two doing?!” Ness asks through a tight, passive aggressive smile. You hadn’t noticed him closing in on you, too high on your own power trip. He grabs you both, one shoulder in each hand, and squeezes with a death grip. “Do you think this is your show? This is Kaiser’s team, not the figure-out-which-good-for-nothing-is-slightly-better team. Either behave and follow the rules, or face the consequences.”

“Good for nothing? Shut up, little midfielder, you’re too scared to stand on your own feet, so you have to degrade yourself as Kaiser’s boytoy instead. I guess his shadow is a comfortable spot to hide in with how enormous his head is,” Isagi says. His tone is so matter of fact, it leaves minimal room for argument.

“He’s good, though. I can see potential in him to be almost as good as Sae. I want you to pass to me, too, Ness. Right? You can emphasize my star qualities with yours, can’t you, Ness? I can shine on you. It’s fine by me.”

It’s like two predatory animals are staring him down, trying to gauge his taste through smell alone — you with your fake innocent, curious expression, and Isagi, who doesn’t seem to realize he spewed vitriolic insults with the nonchalance of a weather cast announcement.

For sure both of you would’ve gotten a broken ankle each the way Ness is gritting his teeth right now, but emerging out of his stupor, Kaiser intervenes. And when Kaiser speaks, he commands Ness’s full attention, rendering him speechless. He pushes Ness out of the way, deeming this a fitting way to insert himself in the conversation. Then he looks you in the eyes with a… smirk? Isagi was hoping his dolour would last a little longer. “I figured out what your role is.”

“I’m not interested in starring in movies made by incompetent directors.”

“You’re going to be my love interest,” declares Kaiser, not at all fazed by your dismissal. “I’m not that bad,” he continues, because naturally, nice people always have to declare themselves as such. “I can recognize when someone has skills. You’re my darling in distress, and I need to save you from the peasantry of Blue Lock, so your talent can flourish. That’s your role.”

You continue observing him with mild amusement like what he told you was normal. Meanwhile, Isagi is wondering if your stunt earlier gave Kaiser whiplash or vertigo or something. Maybe he went and snapped. Clearly, these aren’t words coming from a sound mind.

Even Ness, who at this point should to some degree expect Kaiser to be deranged, gasps. Whether at his audacity or lack of shame, it’s not clear.

“How unoriginal. Think of a better one.” You shoo him to decline the proposal. “Besides, you already know I’m more interested in your lapdog.”

“What?!” Ness calls out, now moving onto being offended. “Are you rejecting Kaiser? And you- me?! What?!”

Isagi’s entire face scrunches. Did this man seriously not even flinch after getting called a lapdog?

Apparently no longer finding this conversation a proper source of entertainment, you wave them off dismissively and walk away without sparing them a second glance. Isagi watches as Kaiser stares creepily at your retreating silhouette with this little infatuated(?) smile on his face.

What is this lunatic so happy about, anyway? Does he even realize he was the perpetrator of his own public humiliation ritual? Leave it to Kaiser not to understand that he embarrassed himself.

Ness runs after you, yelling objections, but at this point Isagi isn’t even listening. He doesn’t want to listen. Neither are you, if the way you’re picking your ear and not responding to him while ducking out of his way is anything to go by.

After everything cools down a little and everyone has scattered about, Bachira inches towards Isagi. Easy-going as ever, hands interlocked behind his head, he says, “You’re all psychos on your team, huh? Must be fun.”

Oh… Yes, Bachira witnessed all that… Everyone did. Isagi almost forgot. The vortex of the utter absurdity of this situation sucked him in for a second there.

___

Isagi doesn’t even bother removing his sweaty uniform before he approaches you, looking all determined. He can’t get it out of his head… Did you read him? Or was it a guess? You got there too fast, as if you foresaw what he was about to do before he even decided it. “How did you know I was going to pass to Kunigami?”

“Isagi, don’t ask me narrow-minded questions. We just had a match and I need to revitalize myself,” you tell him as if what you’re saying makes perfect sense. It’s like you make it a point to phrase everything in the oddest way possible.

“Narrow-minded? Could you stop being a pain in the ass and answer me?”

“Well, you weren’t about to pass to Kaiser, and you used to be buddies with the ginger. So, pray tell, where else could the ball go?”

Surely, it wasn’t as predictable as you’re making it out to be?

“You could’ve collided with them, lost your starter spot and cost us the game without even touching the ball. It wasn’t worth the risk.” Isagi isn’t really sure why he’s even saying this. It paid off for you, but he needs to understand the intricacies of all the ways his rivals are ahead of him just so he can overthrow them. You’re another mark on his football hit list.

“Since when are you so trifling? You’re losing me more and more by the minute here.”

“What are you even on about?”

“I’m a striker. I’m sublime. I score. And you’re asking me why I chose to score?”

Isagi tries to glean some hidden wisdom from this statement — there is none — but before he can at least offer a response, Yukimiya intrudes on your conversation by talking about something wholly irrelevant.

Yukimiya berates him. You fade into the background of this conflict, observing, while everyone else makes an attempt to de-escalate the argument. To make matters worse, Kaiser makes an obnoxious entrance and delivers a useless speech about how you all better follow him and blah, blah, blah.

“What a stupid thing to say,” you point out, taking a step forward as if to challenge him. Isagi doesn’t like that he has to bear witness to you and Kaiser making eye contact again. “We’re in Blue Lock. Would the world’s best settle for just surviving?”

“None of you will be the world’s best and I’m here to show you. By the way, I meant what I told you earlier. Don’t go fading into obscurity following the wrong king. I really can’t stand it when someone doesn’t know how to use their talent, and your talent would make a good accessory to mine.”

“The only king I obey is my desire.”

“You say that now, but I’ll get you in the end.”

“Did you walk in here half naked to try and seduce me? You jezebel…”

Isagi makes the wise decision to tune out the rest of your bickering with Kaiser for the sake of his ears and mental clarity. Still, he can tell there is something here which is evading him. If he can identify everyone’s priorities — Kaiser’s need to live out his emperor fantasy, and your hedonism, and Yukimiya’s dedication to his ideals — can he use this knowledge to his advantage and come out on top?

___

You’re fighting with Kaiser again. It’s not real fighting, though, is it? Isagi has become well-acquainted with all sorts of depravity since the beginning of his stay at Blue Lock — most often had been the victim of it, even — so he can recognize it with ease. Because of this, he pays you minimal attention during the unfortunate moment when he needs to waltz by.

But the next display of obscenity, he truly does not anticipate. He turns around the corner of the hallway on the way back to his room, and what does he realize he’s seeing? Ness peeking his head out from behind the corner to watch you go at it from a distance, that’s what. Why is he even doing this? He’s always doting on Kaiser, so it’s not like it’d be weird if he was there, up close and personal. He’s literally making it stranger than it needs to be.

“What are you doing?” Isagi blurts out, before he can think better of asking.

Ness startles. Apparently he’s been focusing so intensely on… observing you and Kaiser, he didn’t register someone passing by a few inches away from him. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before eventually coming up with, “I, uh… Um, I- I… Uh.”

Isagi almost lets it go, but then Ness says,

“Everyone has their… interests and passions, so… You can’t judge me.”

“Wait, this is an interest and a passion to you?”

“Um, I, uh.” Ness’s face contorts into that reflexive creepy smile Isagi has come to expect of him. “Yes. Now go away, you’re interrupting me.” Oh no, he’s becoming confident in his… Whatever this is.

Isagi exits the vicinity with an unnecessary amount of caution. He can’t tell if the feeling of someone’s gaze burning his back is just paranoia on his part.

___

Today’s bullshit: another one of your arguments is unfolding, and this time, Isagi doesn’t have the choice to feign ignorance. You’re supposed to be splitting up in two for a practice match. Obviously this devolved into an inane dispute about who the biggest hotshot is. Isagi, holding the glorious title of ‘captain of Team B,’ tries to follow the plot of this whole thing. Mainly to figure out a way to make you and Kaiser shut up and get on with the game already because your voices now automatically register as a cacophony in his head.

“I’m not going on your team unless I get to be the captain,” you say. “And Ness passes to me.”

“I won’t play midfielder if you’re center forward!” Ness protests.

“Come on. We’d be a hit together. Stop pretending.”

“You’re putting yourself on quite the high pedestal there,” Kaiser says. “Is the altitude messing with your head? Don’t give yourself vertigo now.”

“If you died on the field, I’d do a penalty kick while standing on your corpse.”

Leave it to you to escalate things for the sake of getting a reaction out of Ness. He shakes you by the shoulders back and forth while yelling something unintelligible as Kaiser snickers, maybe finding this to be an amusing or god forbid romantic mental image.

Why are they acting like children? Isagi holds back an audible groan or perhaps an onslaught of derogatory words. He’s not sure how to solve this, though. You’ve been going in circles for a few minutes now, and Kaiser got mad when you said you’d be on Isagi’s team, and Isagi got mad when you tried to steal his aforementioned prestigious title, too.

The debate of who the superior striker is — objectively it’s Kaiser, but Isagi admires your dedication to your delusions in the face of Ness’s sectarian wrath — continues. Then, it happens. Something awful to honor your skills.

“What did you call it, Yoichi? Devouring?” asks Kaiser, before turning his attention back to you, sly smile on his annoying face and all. Then he puts his stupid hand over your loony head and pushes it aside, giving a good view of your neck. “I think in that case, I might want to take a bite out of you.”

What…

Oh my god, Isagi thinks, stomach churning, and truly, he might vomit. The state of affairs has never been more dire than this. No way that demented freak just did this without any shame?!

You open your dumb mouth, probably to respond with a snarky remark (which will inevitably somehow make this ten times more inappropriate). Isagi won’t stand for this.

Interrupting you before you’ve even begun speaking, he points an accusatory finger at Kaiser first. “You’re a pervert. Not only are you a pervert, but you’re doing it right in front of everyone. All the time! What’s wrong with you?”

He stares at Isagi incredulously. “What?”

Next, you enter the line of fire. “And you try to provoke him into doing things like this on purpose! Just so you can embarrass him! You’re a pervert in a much more pretentious and obnoxious way. You’re enjoying this!”

“What the fuck,” you blurt out. This is the first time he’s heard you sound defensive. “No, I’m not. We aren’t doing anything.”

“Yeah, we aren’t doing anything,” Kaiser agrees. “Fuck off, Yoichi.”

Isagi ignores these protests. They’re futile, anyway. He knows he’s right. Even if he isn’t, all of you deserve this slander in his opinion. For a moment, Ness makes the mistake of assuming he’s been spared, but, “You’re the worst, though. You like it when they fight over you. You have no self-respect.”

“Wh- What?! But I didn’t even do anything!”

“Yeah, that’s the thing, suck-off.” Isagi grabs him by the wrist and tugs him over to his side, apparently having decided this is the answer. “You’re going to be on my team.” Then he glances at the two of you, and that part of his brain which he tries to ignore when he’s not on the field sends a spark of joy and satisfaction coursing through his veins at the unadulterated indignation on your faces. “Deal with each other, yeah? Since you’re so inseparable.”

Noa tells everyone to hurry up, and the rest of the spectators mutter in agreement before Ness can even regain his senses and put up a fight. His eyes are wide and glossy, his jaw is hanging, and he is looking at Kaiser and then at you and then back at Kaiser with the sadness of a character in a Shakespearean play.

Kaiser looks like he is about to pop several blood vessels.

You huff, cross your arms, and pout. Why does Isagi always win?!

___

Thyere so embarrassing omfg im laugihing so hard

#blue lock x reader #michael kaiser x reader #alexis ness x reader #kaiser x reader #ness x reader #bllk x reader #bllk x you

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orimuraa · 18 days

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.❦ ݁˖ Cause I’m so stupid in love - Lee Heeseung

(synopsis) ೀ winning a ticket to an enhypen fansign was the craziest thing that had ever happened to y/n. but what happens when she accidentally catches the eye of her ult bias? 𑁍ࠬܓ

idol!heeseung x fan!reader ✧₊⁺ fluff, crack ✧₊⁺ oneshot ✧₊⁺ wc 3.2k ✧₊⁺ petnames, includes all of enha, a couple of ocs as y/n’s friends

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"OMG! GUYS I GOT IN!! I'M GONNA MEET ENHYPEN!!" y/n screamed to her best friends on the phone. for context, y/n has just won the raffle for an enhypen fansign and now she is going to meet them and her husband ult bias, heeseung. hanni, seojun, and yuri were y/n's closest friends and her number one supporters. there was no doubt that y/n was drop-dead gorgeous. you would have to be blind to say that y/n wasn't pretty. so when her best friends heard the news about her meeting enhypen, they immediately started to plan how they can make heeseung fall for y/n. seojun was like the older brother that y/n never had while hanni and yuri were like the two older sisters she never had. "GIRL YES!!! WE NEED TO PLAN RIGHT NOW!! meet us at the mall in 15 babes!" yuri screamed, immediately thinking of y/n's outfit.

when everyone arrived at the mall, they all started shrieking and jumping up and down in excitement, ignoring the weird stares they got. "okay so i was already thinking about your outfit while hanni was looking at makeup looks and hairstyles and junnie was planning what you're gonna say to everyone!" yuri exclaimed. as a fashion major, this is basically what yuri has been waiting for her entire career. to dress up her baby to go and meet her man.

the afternoon was filled with many giggles, lots of trying on stuff, and taking a small snack break to replenish their energy. in the end, y/n ended up with a baby blue dress with a white shrug, a pair of black, platformed, mary jane shoes, and a white miu miu bag. "and for your hair, i was thinking of two little heart buns!" hanni giggled. "ughhh you're literally gonna be IRRESISTIBLE! heeseung will definitely want you girl!" hanni added.

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it was the day of the fansign and y/n was beyond nervous. she kept walking back and forth in her room, going over what she's gonna say to everyone. her best friends had just left after doing her hair and makeup, and wishing her the best of luck. it was now 15 minutes before y/n would leave her apartment and go meet enhypen.

the car ride to the fansign was the most nerve-wracking ride y/n had ever taken. she decided to take a taxi instead of the metro system as it would take her directly to the spot. "thank you!" y/n thanked the driver and quickly payed before brushing out her skirt. with as much confidence as she could get, she walked into the building (i have little to no knowledge of how fansigns work so this is all based off of how i think they go, please bear with me) and carefully took notes of the interior. she was given a ticket for her place in the line that read, 15. oh my lord- i'm number 15!!! i really won the lottery y/n thought to herself.

15 minutes later...y/n was finally able to see the boys come out and sit down at the long table. she could feel her heart pumping like crazy at the mere thought of being able to go up and meet her all-time favorite group. when it was her turn, she anxiously sat down in the first chair. the first member was jungwon. "hello, what's your name?" he asked, his dimples being much cuter up close. "h-hi, i'm y/n. i've been a fan since i-land," y/n said nervously, not believing that it was even real that she was meeting her favorite leader. "pretty name! i'm so grateful for fans like you. i always love hearing how long certain fans have been with us!" he smiled, melting y/n's heart. "of course! people like you guys who are so talented should definitely get as much recognition as possible!" the conversation was brief but as y/n had to move onto the next members. being able to talk to everyone felt insane but now, she was more nervous then ever because she was now sitting in front of the last member, her bias, lee heeseung. as she sat down, she felt his soft gaze on her and anyone could've noticed how heeseung looked like he just saw an angel. "hi i'm y/n...you're actually my ult bias so i'm so sorry if i seem super nervous right now," y/n laughed nervously, and heeseung found it adorable. "pretty name for a pretty girl," he smirked and y/n immediately felt her face heat up. "i'm flattered that i'm your bias. i'm a lot of people's bias, but you are by far, and if not, the prettiest girl i have ever seen." he flirted, wearing that smirk that y/n knew well. he took her hand into his and y/n felt like she was floating. her ult bias, whom she has been stanning since pre-debut, is holding. her. hand. and calling her pretty. if that's not winning in life, y/n doesn't know what is. they spent the rest of their short time together chatting but never once letting go of each other's hands.

when the staff told y/n she had to move along, heeseung put on the cutest pout ever and promised y/n that they'll see each other again soon, and scribbled something down in her album.

of course, y/n thought that she would never actually meet heeseung again and that it would be impossible, but here she was, back at home, staring at the phone number heeseung had left her. hey pretty girl, i really enjoyed your presence and i want to get to know you better. text me when you can, ###-###-####. xoxo, heeseung. "oh. my. god." she whispered, being in too much shock to even speak properly. the lee heeseung, had just given her his phone number. scrambling to find her phone, she grabbed it and immediately opened messages, going straight to her group chat with her best friends to fangirl over this.

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heeseung was not able to focus on anything else after y/n had sat down in front of him. he tried hard to focus on the other engenes he was meeting but ended up drifting his thoughts back to y/n. he did feel guilty about it and when an engene brought it up, he made the excuse of a bit of fatigue and jet lag. however, once the fansign came to an end, all the members met up just to chat with each other how it went. "sooo...anything to share?" jake asked the group, wanting to hear the juicy gossip. heeseung looked away, not wanting to share anything about his encounter with y/n. "yeah actually! there was this super sweet girl who said she has been stanning us since i-land! she kept complimenting how far we've come and how we deserve all the recognition and stuff! i think her name was y/n?" jungwon explained, immediately catching the interest of heeseung. "oh my gosh yeah! she was so sweet! i was able to chat about layla with her without getting argued with how someone's dog cough gaeul cough is smarter than layla!" jake said, side-eyeing sunghoon who just rolled his eyes at him. heeseung started to zone out a bit about y/n again. what if the members like her as well? wait, do i even like her? i just met her! heeseung had a lot on his mind but the slight nudge of jay's arm brought him back. "dude, you alright? you've been strangely quiet since we finished," jay asked, concerned for his only hyung. "yeah, just tired i guess..." heeseung replied, rubbing the back of his neck and looking away. jay just shrugged it off and got in the van to go back to their dorms and relax.

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meanwhile, y/n had been panicking about whether or not she should text heeseung. deciding to woman up, and shoot him a text, y/n sat on her bed and carefully thought out her messege.

y/n: hey this is y/n from the fansign :) is this heeseung?

heeseung?: oh hey y/n! i was starting to think that you'd never text!

y/n had to put her phone down for a moment to truly believe that LEE HEESEUNG was texting HER.

y/n: ah sorry about that! i just got some time to relax and text you >.<

heeseung: no worries! i was actually wondering if you wanted to maybe hang out sometime?

y/n: but i might get you into a scandal :( here, call me now if you can to discuss

y/n soon felt her phone ring and had to take a few deep breathes before answering. "hey heeseung! so when were you thinking of and where? it's kinda hard to go somewhere without you getting spotted!" y/n joked, earning a slight chuckle from the man on the phone. "yeah...maybe you could just come over to the dorms and we can watch a movie? i just want to get to know you better," heeseung replied, his voice slightly distorted from the phone. "y-yeah that sounds fine. how about next week??" y/n asked, not being able to help herself from stuttering due to the fact that her and her ult bias, lee heeseung, are gonna hang out together. "sure! i'll send you the address. arrive at 10am next friday y/n!" heeseung exclaimed. and then, all y/n heard was the sound of heeseung hanging up the call. "god dammit y/n, what did you get yourself into??" she groaned, pulling at her hair a bit. in all honesty, y/n really wanted to go over, but she also knew that if anyone saw her enter their dorm or be seen with heeseung, it could very well ruin his career. deciding to make the most of the opportunity, y/n put those thoughts on hold and decided that she would just have fun with heeseung. she would be lying though if she said that she didn't find heeseung hot and didn't have a crush on him, but she also didn't want her hangout with him tomorrow to be awkward. little did she know, there was some mutual pining going on between the two of them.

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the week leading up to their hangout was filled with many texts and life updates between heeseung and y/n. the pair quick;y grew super close and now more than ever, couldn't wait to meet up again.

the morning of, y/n was up early, making sure she had everything in order and ready to go over to heeseung's. hanni, yuri, and seojun came over to hype her up again as she was feeling quite nervous. getting dressed and doing her hair and makeup nice and simple, y/n decided to pass time by just chatting with her friends until it was time for her to go.

finally, it was time for y/n to hop on the metro system and take it down to the enhypen dorms. the ride there was easy as she didn't need to transfer lines. making her way up the stairs, she found herself in front of the door with a 1009 on the door as the apartment number. knocking on the door gave y/n worse anxiety because she was not only entering her crush/biases living space, BUT enhypen's! her all-time favorite group. the sound of the door opening knocked y/n out of her thoughts and she suddenly felt her heart rate increase. "OH MY GOSH YOU'RE THE GIRL HEESEUNG HYUNG LIK-MJSBHGSHS!" y/n was immediately greeted with sunoo yelling, only to get tackled by jungwon, who was attempting to get sunoo to shut up. y/n just watched the two pocketz roll around on the floor when someone clearing his throat caused the pair and y/n to look up. there was heeseung, standing in the hallway, looking like he would absolutely murder the two on the ground. his eyes read, "we'll talk later. this isn't over." mkaing the two boys shiver a bit. "i'm so sorry y/n. please ignore these idiots and come inside!" and just like that, heeseung's whole demeanor changed when he was talking to y/n. she slowly stepped over the pocketz, who were still lying on the ground, and followed heeseung to his room. looking around, she could see framed pictures of all seven of them at award shows, music bank, and mv shooting places. there were also a couple trophies, and some random decor that made the place very homey. following heeseung into his room, she looked around and saw his room exactly like how she saw in the video where they showed off their new dorms. (ik they live on two different floors, so just pretend that all of enha was on the same floor hanging out together) the only difference was that it had a bit more stuff lying around and it was a lot brighter due to heeseung opening the curtains a bit. "woah, this is just like i saw in the video," y/n mumbled, mainly just talking to herself. she heard heeseung chuckle a bit and reply. "yeah..well, it's a bit messy..sorry 'bout that," he said while rubbing his neck sheepishly. "no no it's fine! it's actually very cozy," y/n smiles, and heeseung finds himself falling for her a little more.

the two ended up watching a movie together and y/n slowly found herself drifting off, surrounded by the comfort of heeseung's warmth and smell. heeseung felt a weight leaning on his shoulder and when he looked over, he saw y/n, peacefully sleeping and looking so adorable. he quickly positioned her into a more comfortable position and snuggled into her. i really shouldn't be feeling this way about a fan...but y/n's more than just a fan... he thought to himself.

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y/n woke up to someone's arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer to the mysterious person's chest. carefully, she looked over her shoulder to be greeted with heeseung's beautiful face, buried into her back. now this is most definitely something out of crazy dream because one moment, y/n is heeseung's biggest fan and would probably never meet him, and the next, she's cuddled up with him and taking a nap together. reading the time, 1:09 pm, y/n decided that maybe she could plan something for her and heeseung to do here in the dorm so no one would spot them. so, carefully slipping out of heeseung's hold, y/n makes her way into the living room/kitchen and spots jake, sunghoon, and riki playing games on the sofa. "oh- hello," she bows, remembering that these are her favorite idols and still wanting to make a good impression. "oh my goodness! are you y/n?? we've heard so much about you!! we only had a short period of time to talk last time so this is really nice!" jake exclaimed, making his way over to y/n. he really was just like a cute little puppy. "yes hi! i can't believe this is actually real. thank you for having me over," y/n smiles brightly. "of course! actually, we've noticed a change in heeseung hyung's attitude and we think it's because of you! he's always so smiley now and always updates us about you," sunghoon adds, with riki trailing in behind him, nodding his head in agreement. after talking a bit more with them, y/n notices out of the corner of her eye, a figure slumped against the door frame. jake, sunghoon, and riki take this time as a time to escape their lovey dovey-ness and head back to their rooms. turning and seeing a freshly-woken-up heeseung wearing the cutest pout ever, she walks over and simply adores his little pout. "woke up and you were gone," he mumbled, sleep evident in his voice still. "thought you left but turns out you were too busy with them." he adds, his lower lip jutting out more. truth be told, y/n wasn't really listening as she was too busy adoring his features. then, all of the sudden, heeseung wrapped his body around y/n's and carried her over to the couch.

after a comfortable silence filled with cuddles and affectionate gestures, heeseung takes a deep breath and turns to face y/n. "y/n, can i be real with you?" he asks, breaking the silence. y/n can only nod as she for some reason, can't form any words at the moment. maybe it's his doe eyes staring right at her, filled with nothing but softness, care, and maybe something else? "i'm just gonna say it. i think i'm in love with you. no, actually, i know i'm in love with you. i know we've only really known each other for a month now and this is our second time meeting, but i truly believe that you are the one for me. you help me get through tough days of training, and root for me like no one else has. you make me feel enough for myself and i truly thank you for that. i totally understand if you don't feel the same way, but i just wanted to let you know." heeseung confessed. it took y/n a second to process the fact that her bias just confessed feelings to her but then she was able to form some words and reply. "i'm so glad that i can be that person for you seungie," she starts, taking his hands into hers. "i actually feel the same way. whenever i was feeling down or discouraged, i would just listen to your words or lyrics and they just made me feel so loved. i should be the one thanking you! you have helped me for almost 4 years now, and i'd be so stupid to say i didn't like you back. lee heeseung, i like you so much and i have since the minute i saw you on i-land. thank you for being the reason i smile and laugh nowadays." y/n and heeseung meant every single word they said to each other. they had both been each other's person for the past month past 4 years for y/n and they truly felt something special for each other. "can i kiss you?" heeseung whispers, leaning so close to y/n, their faces mere centimeters apart. "yes," and with that singular word, heeseung closed the gap between them. their lips were like puzzle pieces, they fit perfectly together and everything just felt so complete now that they were together. the kiss was passionate, yet soft, and was sweeter than anything y/n or heeseung had ever tasted. when they finally pulled apart, heeseung rested his forehead against y/n's. whispering "i'm so stupid in love with you" against her lips, he pecks her again, short and sweet, yet filled with love. "soo...one last question. will you be my girlfriend?" "is that even a question? yes!!" and the two stuck together for the rest of the day, treasuring their moments together. heeseung figured that telling management was for another day. today was filled with their crazy, stupid love.

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first heeseung fic!!! i honestly couldn't help but feel real delulu while writing this but it's okayyyy....delulu is the solulu after all. hope you guys enjoy this!! reblogs, likes, and feedback are very much appreciated! <33

#₊˚⊹♡𝖄ᥱȷі's 𝖂᥆rks #heeseung x reader #lee heeseung #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen #heeseung fluff #enhypen fluff #heeseung #heeseung imagines #heeseung scenarios #enha #enha x reader #enha fluff #enha imagines

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months

Text

The Lonely Souls Club 8

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as stalking, loneliness, noncon, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Two lost souls cross, but not all those are lost, want to be found.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Note: told you i had the itch.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Bucky

He lifts her with one arm. His real arm. She fits it perfectly. He carries her to the bed, feeling her rattle with barely restrained sobs. He lays her down and she yelps, her hand brushing his chest as she reaches to her hip.

“I’m sorry, I hurt you,” he hovers over her, his heart pumping hotly.

“No, no,” she groans and writhes in agony, “no, it’s... me. It always... hurts.”

He frowns. He feels that pain. They may have fixed him but there’s still pain. He can take a punch, even from a train on a track, but he still feels all of it. Most of all, he feels what’s missing. The part of him that isn’t there.

“Can I get you anything?” He asks. “Do you need to eat? Water?”

“Please, just leave me,” she begs and hugs a pillow, “please, I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“Doll,” the word slips from his lips, it tastes like sugar, but he can’t help but choke. He inhales and lets it out slowly, “I can’t leave you alone. It’s my job to help those in need. You need me.”

She looks at him and it’s like he’s been hit right in the gut. She’s beautiful. Her face is streaked with tears, her hair unkempt, and her eyes gleam with pain, but to him, she’s immaculate.

“Why?” She asks. “How... how did you find me?”

He’s struck again. He falters just a little bit. He thinks of telling her the truth. Of telling her everything. He can’t. If he does, she’ll be afraid. He couldn’t take that. He couldn’t handle her looking at him like everyone else does.

“Sometimes we just find who we’re meant to,” he says and believes it.

She sniffles and squeezes the pillow tighter. She rests her cheek against the top and stares off at the wall. He knows even talking is too much for her right now.

He goes to the door and picks up his arm. He looks down at the black and gold vibranium as he pulls shut the inner door, the outer one is broken. He lays his prosthetic on the corner of the bed, out of her way, and pauses to feel the thin mattress. He puts pressure on it and the frame creaks. Not good enough.

He stands straight and goes into the kitchen. The counter is cleared. He opens the cupboard and sees it all. She calls his name but he ignores her. Why was she so upset? It’s more than just her hip. He pulls out the box of macaroni. Inside, the packet of cheese is divided into three separate baggies, the noodles too.

He squints and puts it back. He takes out the oats and the rice. It’s all the same. It’s all portioned down but not nearly enough to sate. She’s rationing. He sets the boxes back and grabs the sugar dish. It’s empty. The box of green tea has only three packets left. Tea is an appetite suppressant; she’s gone through it so fast, he can guess why.

His heart drops. He ate more than this in the 30s. A mayo sandwich was much more appetizing than a quarter packets of quick oats. He looks around and nears the fridge.

“Bucky, please, don’t,” she calls to him. He stops. There’s a piece of paper under the magnet.

‘After review, your government allowance has been recalculated...’

He swipes the paper from under the magnet and reads it. They took more than a quarter of her usual stipend. How could they do that? He saw her shopping cart, he’s seen how she eats, how she lives. Why would they do this to her?

He wants to tear it up but he knows that won’t change anything. She continues to groan on the fold out bed, the frame squeaking with her sobs. He peers over at the bathroom door. He doesn’t need to look inside at the grimy shower barely big enough for her.

None of this is good enough for her. She’s all alone here. And now they’re trying to starve her out. That’s what they do. If you’re not useful, they abandon you.

Fuck that.

He marches around the couch and searches around. He grabs an empty tote hanging by the door and goes to the little plastic drawers. He reaches inside and stuffs as much into the bag as he can. She babbles his name. She sits up, watching him.

“What are you doing?”

He doesn’t answer. He can’t. He’s so fucking angry, he might scream and he doesn’t want to frighten her. He strides across the basement apartment and into the bathroom. He grabs her toothbrush, her brush, whatever he can. He opens the cabinet and finds the pill bottles. Two tablets. The rest are empty.

He comes back out and takes his arm off the worn mattress. He snaps it in place and throws a blanket over her. She whimpers as she gapes at him. He hooks the bag over his shoulder and scoops her up, keeping the blanket snug around her.

“Wait, Bucky, what’s happening?” She whines.

“You can’t stay here,” he says as he feels around until he finds the top of her cane. He grips it and turns it in his grip, angling it with him as he moves around the couch.

“No, what—where are you taking me?”

“You deserve better.”

“Please, Bucky,” she murmurs, “I...”

“I don’t judge you, doll,” he goes to the door and works around her to open it, “I judge those bastards.”

“What do you mean?”

“I lost my god—my arm for those people. I went to war. I went through hell,” he growls as he stomps out, stopping short as he sees the motorcycle parked outside. Shit. She can’t ride that. “But they gave me a new arm, they gave me a new life, but what did they do for you?”

She gulps and he hears her heart pick up. She’s embarrassed. She shouldn’t be.

“I told you, I help those who need me,” he takes her down the alleyway. “It’s okay to need people.”

He comes out to pavement and looks up and down the street. He’ll get a cab. That’s the easiest way. He’d walk but she needs to lay down. She needs a hot bath and a proper bed. She’s suffered enough.

Reader

Bucky waves the cane from under you and finally hails a cab. He approaches with you in his arms and you keep your head down. You feel like everyone’s staring. That’s what they do when he’s around.

He gets you in the back seat and rearranges you with the bag and your cane. There’s a tick in his jaw that worries you. You’ve seen that in men before. You’re distracted from the reminder as your hip pangs again.

You shakily buckle your seat belt as the driver shifts into gear and joins the slow stream of New York traffic. Bucky sits slightly forward, the seat belt straining on his chest, watching through the windshield impatiently. His fingertips tap together as his lips move noiselessly.

“Bucky,” you say his name.

He looks over at you and the tension drains from his jaw, “hey, doll, sorry I... I’m just thinking. You need something?”

“Where are we going?” You ask again.

He tilts his head, his brows lowering, “home.”

“Your place?” You ask as you shift and rub your hip.

He nods, “yeah, my place.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?” He echoes.

“Why?”

He looks away and his cheeks tug down, “I saw the letter. The food. You... you can’t live like that.”

“But--”

“I told you,” he grits. “No more arguing. You need to relax. If you keep tensing up, you’re only gonna make it worse.”

He’s right. You sniff and try to ease your muscles. The slow crawl of traffic has you jerking with the driver’s brakes. Bucky warns him to take it easy.

When at last you reach your destination, he pays and tips the driver. He gets you to the edge of the seat, taking the bag and cane too. You wave him off and grab the cane. He lets you have it and you stand. You stumble and grab onto him with your other hand to get up on the curb.

Your gait is stunted, more than usual as each step sends a ripple through your hip. You look up at the walk-up and stop at the bottom of the steep stairs. You stare at them, defeated.

“I’ll get you up,” he says.

You hang your head, “it’s just gonna be one thing after another. Can’t do this, can’t do that... take me home.”

He ignores you and wraps his arm around your back. He urges you onward, supporting most of your weight as you climb. You get to the top and he punches in a code on a keypad beneath the door handle. It opens and he angles you inside.

It’s a nice place. A townhouse. The kind you could never afford. The walls have that vintage brick look and the floors are real hardwood. The front room is plaster painted in sky blue and the trim matches the floors. It’s all so much nicer than your life. You feel even less welcome.

“Come on, I’ll take you upstairs,” he says as he finishes unlacing his boots. You have only your socks on.

“Upstairs?” You repeat.

“Bathtub is up there,” he says. He stands and puts his arms out, “can I?”

You look away and nod. You can’t do any more stairs. He lifts you carefully and you rest the can over you. He carries you up the stairs and down the hall. You weigh nothing in his arms.

“The room next to this, that’s mine. I’ll change the bedding, put your bag in there.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I—I don’t sleep in there. I don’t really sleep at all,” he takes you into the bathroom and sits you carefully on the toilet seat. “It’s not too far. If you need anything, say my name.” He stands up and puts his hands on my hips, “you don’t even gotta yell. I can hear through the walls.”

You look up at him. How could you forget how special he is. He has that serum in him.

“Okay.”

He looks over at the tub and chews his lip, “you... you good?”

“I can manage,” you realise he’s asking if you need help.

“Well, when you get out, don’t hesitate to call for help.”

“I’ll be alright.”

“You know,” he begins abruptly, even before you finish the last syllable, “I don’t think any of what you think I do. You’re not weak. You remind me of the strongest person I know, you might’ve heard of him,” he scoffs, “Steve Rogers. Not Cap, Steven Grant Rogers. Skinny kid I grew up with in Brooklyn. Weighed as much as a piece of hay. He didn’t need the serum. He was strong. Like you.”

You want to laugh. You put your head down and sigh, “that’s nice--”

“I’m not lying to you. I wouldn’t lie to you,” he says.

You feel more tears tingling. You rub your cheek and glance over at the tub. The thought of a bath and is intoxicating. Just a little relief.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you say, “you really didn’t have to do all this.”

“I did,” he insists, “someone shoulda done it sooner but the world ain’t what it used to be. Neighbours aren’t your neighbours.”

“It’s not... It’s my problem--”

“It’s not a problem,” he says. “I’ll bring in a fresh towel before you hop in.”

#bucky barnes #dark buck barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #series #fic #the lonely souls club #marvel #mcu #avengers #falcon and the winter soldier #captain america #dark fic #dark!fic

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peterpparkrr · 1 year

Text

Banter (Ch. 4)

Series: Banter

Pairing: Roy Kent x f!Reader

Summary: Sam has his restaurant’s soft open. You and Roy spend the night together. No! Not like that!

A/N: I cried twice during this week's episode, how are you guys doing?

(Ch. 1) (Ch. 2) (Ch. 3) // (Ch. 5)

series masterlist

"Keeley..." You singsong as you walk up to where she and Rebecca are staking a claim in front of the bartender.

"What did you say to Roy?" You ask her as you lean your face toward hers, making an effort to keep your voice low seeing as the man in question is only on the other side of this relatively small restaurant.

"I'm not sure I know what you mean," Keeley replies with such a convincing tone of innocence that you’d almost believe her if it weren’t for the fact that Roy Kent was staring at you with such unabashed intensity that you felt like you might combust.

"He's...looking at me," You whisper-hiss in her direction. Causing both women to look over your shoulder to where Roy is sitting with Jamie Tartt, Jamie going on about something while Roy continues to stare in your direction.

“God, he really is intense, isn’t he?” Rebecca comments as she turns back to you, sipping her drink.

You purse your lips to keep yourself from snapping at your newfound friend.

You know this is amusing to Keeley and Rebecca, everything about your love life is amusing to these women, but you’re having a hard time laughing about it when everyone else knows just as much about your business as you do. And how it sometimes feels like they know stuff you don’t know.

“I need to know why all of that intensity is aimed in my direction, and Keeley’s my best bet,” You reply as you stare at your best friend expectantly.

“Nothing! I just encouraged him to explore the relationship- friendship between you two!” Keeley defends.

“Go say hi to your new friend,” She adds as she prods at your side.

You sigh but move to say hello to him anyway.

Jamie has disappeared off to somewhere else by the time you move to this side of the room.

"Hi... friend," You greet Roy as you come up to him with an awkward smile, your hand coming up in a half-wave, half-fist bump that just makes it look like you greet people by punching the air.

Cool.

"Right," Roy replies gruffly as he frowns down at you.

"This place is nice, I'm impressed," You comment as you glance around the space.

When Keeley had invited you and explained that one of the AFC Richmond players had started a restaurant you kind of expected it to be like most celebrity-owned establishments, completely detached from that person other than the use of their name to get people in the door. With little care for anything other than making money.

But you were pleasantly surprised, Sam clearly had a lot of oversight here as owner, he was helping deliver plates to people’s tables, checking in with the chef, and making the rounds to ensure everyone was having a good time.

Not to mention the fact that the food looked absolutely amazing.

Sam cared a lot about sharing his culture and food. And it showed.

"Maybe Sam should quit and become a full-time restaurateur,” You comment as the man in question sneaks around the two of you with two plates in his hands.

"Don't you fucking dare put that idea in his head," Roy replies. “The team needs him.”

"You'd figure it out,” You say with a wave of your hand. “Ted and Beard are both pretty smart guys," You add with a small smile.

"And you too, I guess," You add with a sigh, smiling at Roy as he takes your teasing remarkably well given your past.

"How have you been?" Roy asks you.

"Oh, um, good," You reply with a nod. “You?”

“Shit,” Roy replies.

“Oh… um…” You stammer as you glance at his expression nervously. Only to see him staring back at you as straight-faced as always but with a glimmer of something behind his eyes that has your short-lived anxiety quickly morphing into relief and amusement.

“You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?” You reply as you hit his upper arm with your palm.

“Yeah, glad you finally noticed,” Roy replies.

You smile up at him for a moment before a server with another platter of delicious-looking food walks past you.

“Watching all of this food come out is making me extremely jealous, do you want to order some food to share?” You ask as you gesture toward an open table in the corner.

“Yeah,” Roy replies.

As you move to sit down you miss the look that Roy and Keeley share.

As it turns out, talking to Roy is easy.

You’d initially been a little worried that with your nervous energy and hatred of long pauses that trying to make conversation would be like pulling teeth, but once the two of you get going you can’t stop.

“What do you mean?!” You shout as Roy finishes telling you the story of how his ex-girlfriend stole his Rolex and sold it for drug money.

“I said what I said,” Roy replies.

You burst into laughter at the whole story.

“Uh oh,” You mutter as you see Sam out of the corner of your eye start to put chairs up on the tables.

And then you glance around to realize everyone else is gone except for Sam and his employees.

Keeley and Rebecca had bid you goodnight a little while ago but everyone else had still been here then.

“I think Sam is trying to very politely tells us to fuck off,” Roy replies as you pull your phone out of your bag to realize how late it’s gotten.

And get a glimpse at a series of texts from Keeley almost exclusively consisting of emojis including but not limited to the peach, eggplant, and explosion emojis.

“Do you want to go get a drink? There’s a pub down the road that makes good cocktails,” You ask Roy when you turn back to him.

“Yeah,” Roy replies as he moves to stand up.

“Thanks for tonight, Sam, this place is seriously amazing, it’s going to be a huge success, I can already tell,” You tell Sam with a smile as you and Roy make your way to the door.

“Good food,” Roy adds from beside you.

“Thank you so much for coming,” Sam replies with a grin. “And I hope you’ll stop in again soon.”

“Oh, we will,” You reply without even thinking about it before you head out with one last wave.

We. You said we. Putting you and Roy into a shared unit without even thinking about it.

And you didn’t hate it.

As your brain spirals Roy switches over the walk on your other side, his hand ghosting the small of your back as he places himself between you and the road. A move that you’ve only read about in books. Or heard about on TikTok from people who apparently have better boyfriends than you’ve ever had.

The spiral pops an embarrassing story of your own into your brain.

“I once had a boyfriend who was stealing money from my wallet and when I caught him he claimed it was a ‘boyfriend tax’,” You blurted out as you glanced over at Roy. Filling the silence with your rambling.

“Your terrible ex story reminded me,” You add.

Roy looks down at you and stops dead in his tracks as he turns to face you more completely. You stop walking too and take a step back to glance back at him.

“What was his name?” Roy asks.

“Br– wait, I’m not telling you that,” You stop yourself when you realize what he means. “I can’t let you go to jail for murder.”

“You don’t know that it was going to be murder,” Roy replies.

You laugh.

“C’mon,” You say as you loop your arm around Roy’s and pull him along to come with you. “Let’s go get that drink. Maybe I’ll tell you his name after I’ve had a few.”

After the change in locations you’re ready for the mood to shift and for you to down a quick drink and bug out as whatever weird truce you and Roy have going on fizzles. But the conversation continues to flow even better as the two of you share a few more drinks.

Once it becomes truly too late that even the bar crowd is starting to think Roy offers to walk you home.

"Thanks for walking me home," You tell Roy when you reach the door to your flat. "I'd ask you to come in but it's probably way past your bedtime with practice tomorrow."

"Yeah," Roy replies.

"Tonight was fun, I'm glad we were able to break the ice," You say as you glance down at Roy’s lips. Waiting for him to look at you and do the same.

But his eyes don’t move from the top half of your face.

"Me too.”

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow- today technically," You add.

"Goodnight, (Y/N)," Roy says with a small smile.

"Goodnight," You reply.

And then Roy turns on his heels and walks down the hallway.

You watch him disappear down the staircase before you turn and shove your key into your door.

"Goodnight," You mutter to yourself as you push open your door. "What the fuck?!"

#ted lasso #ted lasso fanfic #roy kent #roy kent fanfic #roy kent x reader #roy kent drabble #roy kent reader insert #ted lasso reader insert #ted lasso series #roy kent series #keeley jones

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lostdreamr-blog1 · 2 years

Text

Stood Up. Picked Up.

Requested: Thank you anon for this sweet request!! Hope you enjoy it!

Word Count: 1.8k

Pairings: Jake Seresin x Reader

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, mild swearing, some fluff

Summary: When you get stood up on your date, a certain pilot is there to pick you up.

It wasn’t often you had the free time for a date, let alone a guy who would give you the time of day. Being a Top Gun pilot had most guys turning their heads at a girl who could hang with the best. Which made for a very dry love life.

Phoenix had the same problem and joked if things kept going the way they were, the two of you would date. Something you had given some thought to once or twice. At least she would treat you right. But you knew her, and Rooster were dancing around each other these days. It was only a matter of time before one of them grew a pair and made the first move.

The excitement had slowly started to die down when the time kept ticking and you were alone at the restaurant your date previously agreed on. You tried to blame the military for making you not only on time, but fifteen minutes early. These past years in the Navy had taught you to never be late or you will be running until you puke.

Which then carried over into your personal life, thus making you wait for other people. But five minutes late quickly turned into thirty and soon enough you were grabbing your purse heading out the door.

It almost felt like a walk of shame with the people around you throwing pity stares your way. The hostess gave you a sympathetic smile on the way out, but you didn’t have it in you to be friendly back. The embarrassment of the situation swiftly transformed into anger and the only thing on your mind was having one too many drinks at the Hard Deck.

The place was crowded as usual, but it wasn’t hard to find a seat at the bar. Most of the patrons were playing pool, darts, or attempting to dance to whatever was playing on the juke box. You heard a few voices from the Top Gun pilots that were stationed here with you, but you hoped and prayed they stayed on the other side of the bar.

Penny did a double take when she saw you. The pilot she had come to love was not in her uniform but a simple red sundress. A sight she knew she wouldn’t get to see much of. The smile she wore quickly vanished when she realized how upset you looked.

A glass of whiskey was set out in front of you, and you mumbled a quick “thank you” to the ever so lovely bar owner. You didn’t waste time and threw the glass back with one gulp and placed the empty glass back down.

“Want to tell me about it?” Penny was just trying to help which is why you gave her a very short run down.

“Had a date that didn’t show up. Now I’m here trying to forget about it.” You glanced up at her and saw a look of understanding.

“I’ll keep them coming. Just make sure you find a ride home.” You nodded your head because it was all you could do. If worse comes to worse, you’ll call a cab and have Phoenix drive you back in the morning.

A few more drinks in and you could finally start to feel the anger fade away. That along with any other feelings at the moment. You felt someone sit at the bar next to you, but you were too focused on the half drank drink in front of you.

“Never in my life would I have expected to see you dressed like that.” The southern drawl told you exactly who it was before giving them a glance.

“Yeah, well soak it all in now. Because it for sure isn’t happening again.” You didn’t see the concern Hangman had over that statement. Instead, you finished off your drink and grabbed some money out of your purse to pay for the drinks.

“Don’t go leaving on my account.” You lazily turned your head towards him, “Don’t feel like getting into it with you tonight. I’ve had enough irritation in the last few hours to last a lifetime.”

Everyone knew the two of you didn’t exactly get along. He was always doing whatever he could to be the best while you solely believed in teamwork. The two of you just didn’t mesh well and it was no one’s fault. Well, maybe his.

You hopped of the stool and nearly fell over if it wasn’t for him catching you. “I’m fine.” He chuckled and shook his head, “Clearly. How are you getting home?”

You fished out your phone from your purse and held it up to him. “Calling a cab.” You squinted at the screen, trying to make the numbers in front of you stop moving.

“I can give you a ride. Just wait right here.” He didn’t give you time to protest as he walked off, leaving you to grip the bar for support. While having a few too many drinks worked wonders for clearing your mind, your body was hating you for it.

A hand was placed around your waist, making you jump at the sudden contact.

“Calm down, Darlin. Just me.” On any other day you would’ve slapped him for not only putting his hand on your waist but using the pet name he called all the girls he took home with him. But because of your now questionable decision to get drunk, he was now leading you out to his truck.

You only hoped no one from the team was witnessing this. You would never hear the end of it.

Once situated, he started the truck and pulled out of the bar in the direction of your apartment. It was quiet except for the soft sounds of country music playing on the radio. You were nearly asleep sitting up when he asked, “Who hurt you tonight?”

The question caught you off guard. It wasn’t a simple “what happened” or “why are you drinking on a Wednesday”. He knew something happened and you didn’t expect him to care enough to notice.

“Got stood up tonight. Felt like drinking was my best option.” Being stood up was one thing but having to tell others hurt in a whole different way. It was like admitting out loud that someone didn’t think you were good enough for their time.

While you were stuck in your own pity party, you missed the way his knuckles tightened on the steering wheel. Or the way his face hardened at the carefree way you explained what happened. He knew you were hurting but were too stubborn to admit it.

“Why do you even care?” He winced at your question, hoping you were too drunk to notice. The explanation was simple really. He had fallen for you the first day you met. He admired the way you held yourself, confident and sure of ever decision. You included everyone during a conversation. He swears it was the most he heard Bob talk at one time. And while you were quick to call him out on his bull shit, you never once talked down to him.

“Ever think I’m just a nice guy?” The snort that came after his question had him smiling.

“I think you are a guy who doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to. Which brings me back to my question. Why do you care enough to drive me home? You could’ve easily called a cab instead.” You had been trying to run all the possibilities in your head, but nothing made sense. The two of you avoided each other most of the time and the few interactions you had aren’t exactly pleasant.

But you also couldn’t help that this man could make you weak at the knees with a simple smile. There was something about the cockiness that drew you to him and you wanted to hate yourself for it. This was the guy who left his teammates hanging for his own gain. The one who would never admit to a mistake. But that still didn’t stop you from wondering if there was maybe more to him.

And his answer proved just that.

“That man today was stupid for ever letting you go. But I can’t help but thank God for giving me a chance to step in. Let me show you how a real man is supposed to treat a girl. Because you, Darlin, deserve the world.”

You were stunned into silence. Words like that weren’t supposed to come from him. He was supposed to be the villain in everyone’s story, but here he was shutting down all doubts you had about yourself tonight.

“You still with me, sweetheart?” His voice brought you out of your head, but you still didn’t know how to answer him. So, you blurted out, “Good lord I didn’t think I was that drunk.”

His laugh had you smiling along with him, and you were hoping that this wasn’t some messed up dream you were going to wake up from in the morning. “I’m not like all the other girls you take home.”

You heard him sigh and looked over to see him running a hand through his hair. It was weird to see him act nervous. The ever so cocky pilot had never shown an emotion he didn’t want to. Which made you wonder how much of an act he really put on around you all.

“I know that. I also know how different you are than most people in general. You make everyone around you a better person. The happiness and joy you bring with you pulls people in and I can’t get enough of it. I’ve tried all different ways to get your attention from day one, but you see right through it. I thought I would never get the chance at a moment like this, but seeing you alone at the bar damn near killed me.”

You thought over his words and asked, “Why not be real with me? That would’ve grabbed my attention. It did tonight.”

He pulled into my apartment complex and parked the truck, turning towards you in the process. “Because I didn’t think the real me would be good enough for you.”

It was in that moment you realized how wrong you were about this man. The insecurities he seemed to have about himself was mind blowing to you. From the outside looking in, he seemed like the perfect man who had it all together. But really, he only put on an act like he did.

“Thank you for getting me home safe.” You gave him a warm smile as you got out of the truck. Before you shut the door, you leaned your head in and said, “I’m free after training tomorrow.”

A/N: Thoughts? Comments? Thank you so much for reading! My inbox is always open to you all!

#jake hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #topgun maverick #top gun maverick #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #hangman top gun #hangman

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icallhimjoey · 2 years

Text

Then Again

♥ ♥ rockstar!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: In this the third part of what's now become my Eddie story, following "Only Now" and "Over Now". Since your last visit, Eddie spiraled, and Eddie spiraled hard. An exciting event brings all of you, the whole gang, back into a room together and even though time has passed, and everyone seems to have moved on... have you?

CW / disclaimer: 18+, language, fem!reader, smut, angst

Author’s note: all of the girlies who left me lengthy messages and shared your ideas; this one's because of you and entirely for you. I really hope it answers all of your questions and lives up to all of your expectations!

Wordcount: 9.8K

(find all four parts of this story here)

Eddie stared at the invitation he pulled from a delicate beige envelope he'd just been handed by a roadie. The chaos from setting up the stage in a venue they'd just arrived at that day was always something Eddie liked to escape. He'd find a quiet place to wait all of it out, sometimes even stayed on the bus, until he'd be called to stage for soundcheck. When a roadie knocked and walked into his dressing room, Eddie was already up on his feet because he thought it was time, but then he was given an envelope with his name written on and was left alone again.

The influx of feelings nearly knocked him off his boots; joy, fear, guilt, relief, shame - it all hit him at once, hard. Square in his chest, where it hurt him the most and where he felt he probably deserved it the most, too.

“Fifteen months today?”

“Day after tomorrow, but, close enough, right? Fifteen months.” Eddie said it like he couldn’t quite believe it himself.

Sat across from his therapist, he smiled bashfully at the mention of his achievement in sobriety. His therapist seemed incredibly excited and very proud of him, and if he was honest, she really was the only person he appreciated celebrating with him. Everyone else around him acknowledged it all the time, but they’d tiptoe around the subject, always scared to say the wrong thing. Eddie’s substance abuse had left a mark on them, and he’d worked hard to make things right, but he knew that there were people who’d forever be afraid that Eddie would relapse and become the worst version of himself again.

"That's fantastic, Eddie! Wow. Congratulations!"

His therapist was full on big smiles and there was no fear behind her eyes, and Eddie really appreciated it.

He hated seeing that fear. It would remind him of all the things he had done wrong in his life. Of everything that lead him to where he was now, which was a good place, anyone would agree. But too often, something or someone would hold up a mirror and show Eddie this is what you did, what you were like, what you said to me and it hurt.

If Eddie was honest, which, through a lot of therapy, he learned he really owed to himself, he’d been slowly spiraling down ever since Corroded Coffin got signed and he got a free ticket out of Hawkins. But what really accelerated him into the deepest pits of hell was that one night where you asked Eddie to ruin it all.

And he did ruin it all. Because you had asked him to, and he had obliged.

You hadn’t known how to react when yet another headline graced a newspaper, or when Eddie’s drunk angry face was plastered on the cover of another magazine, or when your boss would make another comment on what appeared to be reckless rockstar behavior from Eddie that made the press.

“Did I do this?” you asked, turning a page with a trembling hand as your cheek and shoulder worked hard to keep the phone at your ear.

“Absolutely not. Eddie is one hundred per cent doing this himself,” Steve answered, looking at the same magazine spread of unflattering paparazzi pictures.

“But do I… do I call someone? I can’t watch– what if he does something really stupid, Steve? What if…” you didn’t want to finish your sentence and heard Steve sigh on the other end of the line.

“I’ve reached out so many times, trust me. To his band members, to his management– even to Wayne, but it’s all– they’re all very… there’s nothing anyone can do,”

“So we’re just going to watch him crash and burn?” the picture in front of you of Eddie throwing an empty whiskey bottle at the windscreen of a random car should’ve never been taken and should’ve never been printed, you thought. The people around him were either eager photographers, trying to catch Eddie’s downfall in real time, or bystanders laughing. Big ugly smiles on big ugly faces, not an ounce of empathy for Eddie Munson who very clearly wasn’t doing okay.

The fucking tabloids could die, for all you cared.

“We’re not.” Steve answered, and for a second you hoped he’d have a plan. Some way to reach Eddie without facing the risk of pulling the two of you into it with him.

“We’re not going to watch him.” Steve then said, and you slumped your shoulders and let your head fall as you took hold of the phone with your hand. Simply ignoring Eddie as he dug his own grave wasn’t really going to help your anxiety at all.

“He’ll come to his senses,” Steve said, not even really convincing himself, but trying his best anyway. “Eventually.”

“I just wish there was something we could do,” the guilt you’d felt pool at the pit of your stomach into this black puddle of tar felt too sticky for you to ignore.

“It’s probably not as bad as it looks, you know what these magazines are like,” Steve tried, and you knew he was probably at least a little bit right.

“Hey,” Steve said after you failed to say anything, but just stared at the images of Eddie in front of you. “Don’t let it ruin your day, all right?” Like it hadn’t already ruined every single one since Eddie started calling you at the most awful hours and leave lengthy voicemail messages in a sloppy voice. You were barely able to make out anything he said at all, but you could always sense the anger and if the message went on long enough, his absolute helplessness. The obvious vulnerability. His weakness. They were all the things you felt constrict within your own chest as you’d listen to the messages in the morning.

Eddie never called. Never used to call. Now, he did it all the time. But you never called back.

Well, you did once but were greeted by the very kind voice of someone at the front desk of the hotel Eddie had stayed at that night, and you knew it’d be no use to ask for Eddie. He’d either have checked in under another name to hide his identity, or he'd have left already. You almost thought he did it on purpose; Eddie only ever reached out to you when he knew you’d either be at work, or asleep, and never gave you a chance to catch him when you’d return the call.

And so, you’d just listen.

You’d listen, and then you’d save every single message to listen to again later, because that’s the kind of person you were. You’d listen to them whenever you needed a good cry, because it always worked. And sometimes, you listened to them for other reasons. Stupid reasons, like, when you wanted to make yourself feel awful about yourself. You know, normal girly things. That was until Steve visited, and you let him hear. He had instantly deleted all of them from your machine.

Steve was angry with Eddie on a whole ‘nother level which he thought he hid well from you. He didn’t. You knew. But you never talked about it together because it would just be painful, and none of it would help. You both missed Eddie – not this Eddie, but Eddie Eddie – and the fact that it was hard to escape him made it all the more difficult.

It had all come ahead when, almost a full year after Eddie had last properly seen you, Robin’s doorbell rang at a quarter past midnight, followed by loud sloppy banging against her door. Panicked and confused at who the hell would be so loud that late, Robin was so ready to get angry at a tipsy, giggly Steve, but when she unlocked her door, saw someone she hadn’t been expecting.

Eddie Munson.

He looked closer to death than he’d ever looked before, and if Robin was honest, smelled closer to it too. He seemed unable to fully open his eyes, and when he looked at Robin for a second, she saw he also couldn’t keep his eyes still. They twirled and crossed over, and if the swaying on his legs didn’t give away how drunk he was, his eyes certainly sold the deal.

“Eddie?” Robin checked behind him, but he was alone. “Aren’t you… didn’t you have a show in Chicago tonight?” Robin knew because one of her cousins who lived in the windy city had been so excited to see Corroded Coffin live. Had called her specifically to tell her, because she knew Robin used to go to high school with Eddie. A car ride from Chicago would’ve taken nearly five hours. How the fuck was Eddie here right now?

“Ishehere?” Eddie drawled, the words barely making it out of him.

Eddie pushed Robin out of the way roughly and walked into the hallway with feet that were somehow too heavy to lift and simultaneously unable to easily find the floor again. Eddie had to use both his hands on either side of him to find balance on whatever he could grab onto.

Mentally, Robin tried to piece the situation together in order to make sense of it. If Eddie was here, there was no chance the concert had happened that night. He was definitely under the influence, maybe of more than just alcohol, and Robin feared that he’d left Chicago without anyone knowing. Left the band, left the fans – left a full venue of people waiting for him to come up on stage and play some fan favorites and some newer songs. Just, left.

Oh man. Eddie was in trouble.

In his current state he obviously couldn’t have gone to see Wayne, Robin couldn’t even imagine how Wayne would react to the man she saw stumble into her home. He also couldn’t have gone to see Steve either – Eddie probably knew that there were a lot of judgmental words waiting for him, a full lecture of phrases and terms that he’d have to wade through before he’d even catch sight of a couch to sleep on.

“You walked right past me,” Robin said somewhat sarcastically to Eddie’s question as she closed her front door, accepting that Eddie was in her house now and was probably going to stay the night.

“Where are you hiding her?” Eddie raised his voice and loudly slammed the door to Robin’s hallway closet and suddenly, Robin was scared. Eddie was aggressive, and she was alone.

“I’m here!” Robin hissed, nervous, but loudly, making Eddie turn his head to give her a quick glance before turning and tripping over his own feet into her living room. Robin followed him and got to see him plummet face first onto her couch. She watched him squirm around a little bit, take his shoes off with little care, mumbling to himself as he threw them across the room. Robin wondered where all of his stuff was. Had he traveled here with nothing? Should she call someone? Let them know Eddie was with her, and not face down passed out in a ditch somewhere?

Amongst the incomprehensible rambles Eddie was slurring into one of Robin’s throw pillows, she made out some words he grumbled, “You always leave– … where are you now– … you fucking left– ... bitch won’t ever answer– … I didn’t do this, you– ... You–”

Suddenly Eddie looked up and locked eyes with Robin.

“You!”

“No,” Robin answered, surprisingly calm for her doing. She was still sort of jittery and definitely nervous, but also determined that whatever Eddie was struggling with, he wasn’t about to take any of it out on her.

“No, not me. I’m going to get you a blanket and a tall glass of water– a bucket. A bucket maybe, yes, because you seem like you’ve had a lot to drink, and I don’t want you ruining my rug. My mother got me that rug, she’d kill me if anything were to happen to it.” Robin rambled as her feet hurriedly carried her in small steps around her home, collecting the items she mentioned. “You see, sometimes people care about their things, their bodies, their lives, and they don’t feel the need to absolutely ruin everything all of the time,” she continued, and it was all too fast paced, too much, too sober for Eddie to follow or to respond to. “They don’t get drunk and travel for hours just to ring someone’s doorbell after midnight, scaring the living daylight out of them because, what if something happened to someone? Why else would someone come a-knocking? They don’t do that Eddie. They don’t.”

It seemed like Eddie had passed out.

“Please don’t die on my couch,” Robin finished, placing down a glass of water on her coffee table. “We can talk in the morning.”

Robin made sure to lock her front door and hide the keys, so Eddie had no chance of sneaking out and endangering himself more than he already had done before disappearing into her bedroom. The click of her bedroom door followed by the sudden absence of noise made Eddie lift his head up slightly, and he noticed only then that Robin had left him alone.

“Hey!” she heard Eddie call for her, the anger in his voice unmistakable.

“Robin!” she kept quiet, squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. No. She’d talk to him in the morning.

In a bid to get her attention, Eddie flung an arm out, knocking over the glass of water, and whether he intended it or not, it smashed onto the floor, breaking into vicious shards that imprisoned Eddie to the couch.

Robin heard.

Paused.

No.

She’d talk to him in the morning.

The next morning Eddie woke up to Robin talking to someone on the phone. She was trying to be quiet, but Robin was on edge and anxiety had taken over her system. She hissed down the phone and Eddie caught every word.

"Emergency. Code red. You have to come help me right now." "Guess who showed up at my doorstep in the middle of the night?" "He’s on my couch, covered in vomit." "Of course he's still alive." "No, please, you have to come, I don’t know what to do," "It smells so bad, please, Steve, I can’t do this on my own, he’s your friend," "What do I do in the meantime?" "Okay. Please, hurry."

Eddie groaned. Everything hurt. It felt like the full front of his body was bruised. Head pounding. Taste of death in his mouth. Smell of butyric acid so thick in the air, it almost made Eddie retch again. He moved to sit up, but Robin was eyeing him like a hawk, sat up in a squat on an armchair and was quick to stop him.

“Stop! Don’t move.”

Eddie didn’t need telling twice and let himself fall back, relaxing into the couch again.

“There’s glass and throw up everywhere. You’re not moving an inch ‘til Steve gets here.”

Robin stayed put, kept her eyes on him and monitored every single chest raise and face grimace of the man splayed out on her couch. A man she only really knew because she'd grown close with Steve when they became coworkers, but had never really hung out with by herself. Mumbling under her breath, angry that Eddie had gotten vomit so close to her rug, Robin kept her distance because, God, smelling vomit first thing in the morning really was a sure fire way to get sick yourself if you weren't careful.

It took Steve and Robin 40 minutes to get Eddie situated at the dining table in some of Steve's clothes, freshly showered, with a glass of water and a bowl of cereal in front of him. Robin was doing her best to carefully pick up glass from her living room floor next to the couch. Steve was sat next to Eddie, both arms stretched, hands holding his knees, one leg bouncing and brows furrowed down deep. Steve was waiting for Eddie to talk. To explain. To apologize.

Eddie sighed, clearly still nauseous, and pushed the bowl of cereal away.

Steve didn't hesitate to push it right back to where it was.

"I'm not hungry, man,"

"I don't care,"

Eddie sighed again, now reaching for the spoon and moving it around a bit.

The only noise that filled the room was from pieces of glass Robin collected on the coffee table. The tension could be cut with a butter knife until Steve groaned loudly in frustration and got up from his seat.

"What are you doing, Eddie? What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Steve yelled, and it made Eddie wince. His head was throbbing still, and loud noises hurt. Steve quickly sat down again and scooted closer to Eddie, really got in his face, made sure that whatever he was going to say next, he could see Eddie's reaction.

"Fuck you, man."

Eddie kept his gaze at the bowl of cereal in front of him, but Steve saw his jaw clench.

"Seriously?! Mindful? This is mindful to you? I don't– You can't– ... You've got to stop calling her. I'm being serious, stop with the intoxicated phone calls."

Robin stopped what she was doing and looked at them from her crouched position next to her couch. This wasn't a conversation she could pretend to not listen to whilst she was doing a dangerous task.

"Telling her that she's the one that ran away – Eddie, you left. You left and then you started coming and going as you pleased, in and out of Hawkins, in and out of our lives – her life."

Eddie let out a breath he'd been holding in, rolled his eyes and turned his head away from Steve.

Wrong move, Robin thought.

"You left. You bailed. You ran, you mother fucker," Steve got up abruptly, nearly making his chair fall backwards and for good measure, Steve kicked it in frustration making Eddie flinch.

"Steve," Robin tried in a bid to calm him down.

Steve took a few steps, hands up in his hair, breathing heavily as he looked at Eddie's tensed back.

"And now you're, what? Drinking yourself into the grave? Who is that meant to hurt? Just her? Because it's not." Steve lied. "You're only hurting yourself." Another lie, encased in truth, followed by silence. Robin was scared to breathe as she watched Eddie who honestly looked like he was still drunk, not far removed from throwing up again.

"Why could you not..." Steve sighed, "Why couldn't you just be with her?"

"I was!" Eddie suddenly exclaimed and turned to look Steve in the eye. "I was with her! When I was here, I was with her."

"Cut the bullshit, asshole," Steve looked at him through narrowed eyes. "We all know that's not what I meant."

Eddie turned to look at Robin, who was quick to hold up both her hands, showing her palms as if to say, don't ask me. Then he turned back to look at Steve again, and he felt the built up anger dissipate when all he could see in his friend's face was worry and pain. Clenching his jaw, Eddie's eyes found the bowl of cereal in front of him again and he kept them there as he heard Steve sit down next to him again.

"I'm not going to pretend that whatever you're doing to yourself isn't complete self-destruction because you know, Eddie. You know what you did and you know what you had and now you know what you lost now that she finally, fucking finally, ended it."

If Steve wasn't mistaken, he thought he saw the first little rips in Eddie's hard demeanor. A couple little cracks, and Steve hoped they'd grow deeper so he could get in there properly. Worm his way in, and then drag his friend out of there.

"She moved on, and you can't handle that, and now look at what you're doing to yourself..."

"Eddie," Robin suddenly spoke from the other side of the room, making him look up a second. Her voice sounded soft and kind, and the look in her eyes reflected her words.

"You scared me last night..."

Eddie didn't need to hear more. This was enough for tears to spring into his eyes. He turned away to at least somewhat hide it, but the loud sniff that followed gave away that he was crying. Steve placed a strong, but caring hand on his shoulder, and Eddie immediately grabbed it. Held onto it. White-knuckled it until it hurt him.

"Enough with the shit excuses, all right? When's the last time you've seen Wayne?"

Eddie hugged Steve, and Eddie hugged Robin. Uttered the words "I'm sorry," about a million times through tears he felt guilty for crying. Robin was quick to tell him he didn't need to apologize to her, but Steve didn't react to the words at all, felt like he should at least say them two million more times and really mean all of them for Steve to accept them.

Eddie let Steve drive him over to Wayne's.

Wayne took Eddie straight to rehab.

When you got off the phone with Steve, you were crying. It was a weird mix of relief, happy tears, honest joyous thoughts because Eddie would be taken care of now, but you also felt so much pain for him. Rehab? That meant it was really serious. That it was really real. But he was getting help now, which was definitely good news, but you just wished it had never ever gotten to this point.

Starting you shift down at the bar, you couldn't really stop thinking about it. Your boss made a small comment, asked what was on your mind, because you seemed a little out of it, so you'd vaguely told him you'd gotten some news. Ultimately okay news, good news, but, food for thought anyway. Your boss' reaction had been that you were lucky it was Wednesday and it probably wouldn't get really busy.

And your boss had been right.

The bar only really saw regulars that day, all sat at barstools with elbows perched up onto the shiny varnished wood while the rest of the place remained empty. These guys made your job easy. You knew what all of them were drinking – beer, and beer, and then later, likely more beer – and you would have the next drink ready for them before they could even ask. They would all tip extra too if you smiled and engaged in kind conversation with them. Which you did.

Then, a stranger walked in, and he instantly caught everyone's attention. If the light, acid washed, tight jeans and the white, impeccable, tightly laced-up tennis shoes were anything to go by, this guy was lost with a capital L. Maybe, probably, there just to use the restrooms.

"That kid lost?" one of the older guys sat at the bar must have read your mind, making the two men next to him snigger softly.

You made eye contact as he sat down at the far end of the bar and smiled. "Can I get you anything?"

He honestly looked a bit like Steve, if you were honest. Polo shirt and all. Disney looking dude. Hair all sun-kissed, high lighted by the summer. The least intimidating man in there by far. And pretty. Shit, this guy was really pretty. You saw him look around and check what everyone else was drinking.

"Jack and coke?" he asked, almost like he wanted your permission for getting anything other than just a beer. "Sure, coming right up," you grinned and got started on it. You saw your boss making eyes at one of the regulars, and they were clearly making fun a little. But when you checked to see if your new customer could tell that he was being taunted for sticking out like a sore thumb, you saw him mouth along to the song being played. You turned back to look at your boss, eyebrows raised high as if to say, oh, maybe he's not so lost?

You finished mixing his drink and were about to place it down in front of him when he held out his hand to take it from you. Handing it over, his fingers brushed yours, and then you held eye contact for much longer than would be considered normal.

"Thank you," he smiled sweetly, and you couldn't help but blush. His eyes were really captivating. Big brown orbs, surrounded by beautiful long lashes. Killer smile, too.

"You're welcome," what had you all shy all of a sudden? Was it the freckles?

He reached his other hand over the bar and held it out to you.

"I'm Matt,"

You stared at it for a second, heard your boss very clearly suppress a laugh behind you, and then decided to shake it.

"Nice to meet you, Matt."

Matt then looked over your shoulder at everyone behind you and raised his glass in cheers to all the other men. You turned around and were surprised to see all of them raising their glasses in return just before you caught your boss trying to hide his smirk from you.

Interesting, you thought. This could definitely get interesting.

“So, you mentioned next weekend is big… what’s happening?” Eddie’s therapist scooted forwards in her chair and clicked the pen in her hand as it hovered over a notebook she’d scribble in from time to time.

“A wedding.” Eddie answered in a held breath, chest puffed out, holding it there for a second. “Old friends from Hawkins invited me to their wedding on Saturday, at Laurel Hall in Indianapolis, which is this beautiful mansion, used to be a school way back when…” Eddie had gotten into the habit of just saying whatever he thought, saving his therapist the trouble of asking for details. “They’ve been together since high school. High school sweethearts, what a dream, right? I guess everyone’s going to be there, old classmates, friends – I’ve been given a plus one too, which they didn’t need to do, but is still kind of them,”

“Who are getting married?”

“Nancy and Jonathan,” Eddie answered, rubbing sweaty palms over his jeans. They were names of people he didn’t think he had ever mentioned before, so he felt the need to clarify. “Jonathan is Will’s older brother, and Nancy is Mike’s older sister, and Mike and I used to be–” Eddie started, but his therapist stopped him as he clicked her fingers in recognition. “Hellfire Club.” She stated, and Eddie smiled. “Yea,” he let a short silence fall in which he collected thoughts.

“Nancy and Steve also dated for a couple of months when they were 15… maybe 16, and Will and Mike are best friends too, so, there’s a lot of… we’re intertwined in a lot of different ways,” Eddie waved his hands over each other a few times to illustrated the intertwining of all of them.

"I guess that's what happens in small towns, huh?"

"You're nervous. Why are you nervous?" she saw right through him.

"Well... it's a wedding. People will be drinking." Eddie sighed deeply, then frowned as he stared into nothing for a second.

"Will your ex-girlfriend be there too, if you don't mind me asking?"

Ex-girlfriend.

Eddie's eyes shot up to look his therapist in the eye.

Ex-girlfriend.

They made Eddie talk a lot in rehab. Group therapy sessions. Individual therapy sessions. And Eddie had never really talked about anything that really bothered him before, so it was real difficult at first. He felt he wasn't meant to feel bad about anything, because was he not living the dream? Was this life not everything he had been wishing for? Everything he'd ever dreamed of ever since getting his very own first guitar?

Eddie was meant to explode with joy. Be the happiest man alive. Instead, however, Eddie felt like he was drowning constantly, and felt overwhelming guilt for it too.

Eddie had to explain all of it. Make everyone understand as he made sense of it himself. When he had to explain to people who hadn't been around your friendship, hadn't known what the two of you were like, what you'd always been like together, he tried to find the right words to make everyone understand. And then, there only seemed to be one right word for it.

Ex-girlfriend.

You totally were his ex-girlfriend.

It was an awful moment of realization that kept him up at night for weeks because, you were his ex-girlfriend now. Ex. You had totally dated each other. For years. You'd been his girlfriend and he'd been your boyfriend. An awful one, too, but a boyfriend none the less. It had been the real deal. Eddie had been so in love and recognized that you'd been too. Maybe even more so. How had he never known? Never seen it? Never been able to face it? How did he, only now that it was over, learn that that was what it was? Eddie never even knew it was something he could lose, because it never earned its label. It never got named, and so it never gained any strength. Now that it was gone, over, past the point of repair, Eddie suddenly gave it strength, gave it meaning, gave it power by naming it what it really had been and it was heart shattering.

"I think so," Eddie said to his therapist, nodding slowly. "Yea, she must be."

And Eddie was right. The first person he laid eyes on when he walked into Laurel Hall on Saturday May 4th at 3 o'clock in the afternoon, was you. You were up near the front, already seated for the ceremony, and Eddie decided to hang back because that felt a little safer. He sat next to what he assumed were some distant relatives, and gave himself the time to see which way the wind was blowing.

The ceremony was beautiful. Jonathan and Nancy looked stunning, and Eddie really tried to follow along, to listen to the vows, to smile when he was supposed to, and to clap when he was supposed to. But with everyone, Robin, Steve, Dustin, Mike, people's parents – oh my God old friends and their judgmental parents, Eddie had completely forgotten about the parents – but mostly, with you in the room, paying attention seemed an impossible task.

Halfway through the ceremony Eddie doubted if he should've even come at all, and he thought of slipping out unseen. His palms were so sweaty, they were leaving wet patches in his trousers, and his legs wouldn't stop bouncing. But when he looked around to see if no one would actually notice, he locked eyes with Dustin who gave the most excited smile Eddie thought he'd ever seen on him, and so he stayed.

At the reception, Eddie was welcomed by someone holding a huge tray of champagne flutes at the bottom of the stairs and he figured he'd do the polite thing and take one. He'd secretly discard it somewhere on a mantel later, he thought. When he saw you in the crowd, talking to some other people he knew, he decided to grab two flutes. You were empty handed, he had two drinks – one plus one equalled two. It could've been the perfect way to step into your group. The perfect opening to talk to you. The perfect way to– ...oh no.

Someone else handed you a drink.

And you leant in.

And you kissed them?

Let them place a hand on your lower back?

You smiled?

Seemed very happy?

"Eddie!"

Dustin frantically waved him over, and Eddie was visibly relieved for the out he was given. Swerving off the path that lead directly to you, he walked over to where Dustin was stood with Will, Lucas and Max. Eddie said his hellos, and they all politely smiled at him, gave him the exact looks with the exact eyes that he'd feared he'd get from everyone that day. Somewhat fearful, definitely awkward, a little scared to say the wrong thing, and far too focussed on the huge elephant in the room that took up almost every square inch from wall to wall, from floor to ceiling. It only left the smallest bit of wiggle room to squeeze in some polite small talk.

Except, Dustin wasn't about that small talk life. At all.

"Yep, I'll take these, thank you very much," Dustin said, reaching for both of the glasses Eddie was holding and downed them immediately. Eddie gave him a look, and Dustin stared right back. "Surprise, I'm not 14 anymore, I'm overage now, shithead," he deadpanned, and Eddie was stunned into laughter. "Are you?" Will squinted at Dustin after some quick mental math, but Dustin just shrugged and said, "Close enough, anyway."

They managed to converse on a somewhat normal level in their little group. Eddie was a little fidgety, but Dustin was just being his regular old self, always teetering between innocent excitement and nonjudgmental acceptance, which was exactly what Eddie needed. Good old helpful little nerdy Dustin. What a dude, what a savior. The group grew slightly awkward again when Mike joined them, brother of the bride, but it only took seconds for Eddie to lock his elbow around Mike's neck. Mike said something so stupid about how Will and Mike were brothers now, it made everyone groan, so obviously, it was headlock-time.

Their laughter was loud, young boys having fun, but it felt misplaced because they were all in fancy suits in a very fancy solarium, and were definitely drawing attention to themselves for it. Dustin tried stepping in to save his friend, but Eddie had two arms, had he not? Lucas tried to warn him, but it was to no avail and Eddie had them both now. "No wedgies, no wedgies!" Dustin called out before wedgies had even crossed Eddie's mind. People who didn't know them were frowning, no doubt wanting to tell them off, boys you're at a wedding reception, behave yourselves!

You observed them calmly over the rim of your glass as you happily sipped the champagne that your boyfriend had handed you earlier, and you hid a smile. "They're such babies," you heard Robin mutter next to you, followed by "Oh my God, that's him! That's Eddie Munson!" from your very excited boyfriend, Matt. "Come on, I'll introduce you," Steve quipped and nodded for Matt to follow him. "Don't ask him to sign anything, or tonight is going to be so weird," you heard Steve say as they walked off together.

Yeah.

Tonight was definitely going to be weird.

You knew Eddie hadn't seen you look. You'd clocked him immediately. Had seen him sit down in the back during the ceremony. Tried to keep your attention with Nancy and Jonathan, smiled at Matt when he squeezed your thigh at the vows, hugged his arm as he teared up when Jonathan spoke. But Eddie was in the back, and you could almost feel his eye bore into you, so your legs had bounced wildly the entire time and your mind hadn't wavered from him for a single second.

Watching Matt be his giddy, excited, puppy-dog self as Steve introduced him was almost too much to witness. Matt was a huge Corroded Coffin fan, even if he didn't look it, and you'd told him about how you used to be real close friends with Eddie. You had never let on what that friendship entailed. What that friendship had looked like to others. What that friendship had meant to you. Matt just thought it was really cool and couldn't wait to one day maybe meet him.

Which was right now, and you realized you were entirely unprepared.

Robin understood what a bizarre position you'd been placed in, and stood beside you as you both looked at the three of them from afar. You thought it was nice that you were out of earshot, you didn't need to hear Steve ask Eddie to ask Matt what his favourite band was. It was also nice to see that Steve and Eddie were on good terms. They smiled at each other, and had hugged in greeting. You knew they'd seen each other a few times after Eddie had gotten out of rehab. Steve had also actually replied to the letter they had made Eddie write in there, which you hadn't done. You had read the one he wrote you, memorized huge chunks of it even, but had never picked up a pen to write a reply. It had kind of kept the door between the two of you dead-bolted shut, and Eddie hadn't dared knocking it for fear you'd find another lock to turn the key on.

"This is weird," Robin muttered, only loud enough for you to hear.

"So weird," you agreed. You saw how Eddie kept biting his lips and knew that he was nervous. Eddie Munson, nervous to talk to your Disney boyfriend. What a wild thing to be staring at.

"Matt and Steve are practically wearing the same outfit," Robin followed up, and you realized that she was talking about something entirely different from you. But, shit, she was right. It wasn't the exact same outfit, but if you squinted hard enough, you could easily confuse one for the other.

When you saw Matt turn to look at you, point his finger for Eddie to follow its line, you waved. And then you smiled. You were a grown up. An adult, God damn it. You could wave at someone and be normal, surely.

Before Eddie could wave back, you saw how they were being asked to step into the formal dining room as dinner was about to be served. People started moving, all ready to find their seats at the other end of the mansion, but Eddie didn't follow them. Instead, he slowly make his way over to you, and then, suddenly, it was just you and Eddie in the solarium still.

"Hey," with both hands in his pockets, Eddie twisted on his foot and used the other to tap your shin as a greeting. It was awkward, but cute.

"Hey," you returned the same gesture, but you were in heels, and you almost lost your balance. Eddie's hands reflexively reached out, but were quickly pulled back as you steadied yourself on your own. You blushed at your own clumsiness and Eddie scratched the back of his neck, entirely unsure of how to approach this chat with you.

Then you both chuckled. You chuckled at yourselves, at each other, at this outrageous situation you found yourselves in - all of it too stupid not to laugh at.

"You met Matt," you said, gesturing vaguely at the spot where they'd been stood seconds earlier.

"I did. Nice um... yeah, he's a nice guy," you could hear hesitation in his voice, and you squinted at him through a small smile. Eddie exuded the same vibes you'd felt in the bar when Matt had first walked in.

"Matty," Eddie said, and you could tell he was making fun a little. You let him, knowing how Matt could come off. Especially since he was an actual real life fan of Eddie. First impressions didn't really mean anything when it came to Matt. You knew.

"Eddie," you replied, returning his own facial expression and tone to him, and it made the both of you laugh softly.

"You look really good," Eddie suddenly complimented, looking you up and down, eyes gliding over your plum dress, and your chest ached with the way he said it.

"So do you," it was the polite thing to say, but you also absolutely meant it. Eddie looked fucking great.

A small silence lingered, and you were about to say that you should probably also make your way over to find your seat, but Eddie stopped you.

"Can we," Eddie stepped closer and let fingers wrap around your arm. "Can we meet, later? Another time, I mean. Another place. Like, next week, maybe?"

You looked at Eddie's hand as he touched you, felt sparks, before you looked up at him again, and you were met with big emotional eyes that couldn't look more apologetic if they tried.

You smiled warmly. "I'll think about it."

You knew it wasn't the answer Eddie wanted to hear, but he accepted it, nodded, let you go, and watched as you stepped away and went to find your seat next to Matt for dinner. You kind of liked the position of power you suddenly found yourself in with Eddie, and thought to yourself that you wanted to hold onto that for a little while longer. Could be, dared you think it, fun.

Dinner took its sweet time, and you grew a little bored. Speeches were followed by more speeches, were followed by more speeches, were followed by more speeches. When you saw Jim Hopper wipe thick tears from his cheeks, you turned to Steve to point it out. Steve looked, but then turned back to you and pointed at your boyfriend. Matt was crying too, and there was no possible way for him to even understand any of the references in any of the speeches. "Weddings just get me," he'd said earlier when he cried at the ceremony too, and you thought it was cute then. Now, it was becoming a bit much. You rolled your eyes at Steve, who silently laughed before you decided to down your glass of wine and immediately asked for another from a passing waiter.

After dinner, the party moved back to the rest of the ground floor. There was the grand lobby by the staircase, where people could sit on big old chesterfield couches and in old leather armchairs. Then there was the solarium that had its marble tiles turned into a dance floor. Lastly, there was the terrace, lit with beautiful patio lights strung across, where people could sit and chat at larger and smaller tables.

Jonathan and Nancy had their first dance, and it was very romantic. Made you swoon a little, looking at the eyes they made at each other. Perfect fucking couple. Behind them, you'd seen Eddie slip outside. For a smoke, you were sure. You weren't going to follow him. You were a grown up. An adult. You were no longer hung up on Eddie, and you made your own choices. Your next choice, you decided, was to drag your boyfriend onto the dance floor with you, even though, and he'd been very adamant about this, Matt didn't dance.

"Steve, my man," Matt slapped a hard hand onto Steve's shoulder.

"Do me a solid," he gestured to you as you were tipsily trying your best to reel Matt in with your imaginary fishing rod. "I don't dance."

Steve furrowed his brow, pretended to unhook Matt from your wire, and placed the imaginary hook onto his own collar. Ten seconds later, you were both stood on the dance floor, in dancing position, holding onto each other, just like everyone else was.

You mused together about how you were grown ups now. Real adults. With adult lives, and adult responsibilities. People your age were getting married now, having kids, had steady jobs, careers even and had fucking mortgages. It was such a trip if you thought about it for too long, and were glad to learn that Steve wholeheartedly agreed.

"We're grown ups who make sensible choices now," you almost said it like it was dirty.

"We're grown ups who know when to stop drinking," Steve said, giving you a look. You had definitely nearly tripped over your own feet a few times already.

"Ouch, don't let Eddie hear," you joked and, sure, maybe it was too soon for jokes like that, but you'd said it now anyway and it made Steve turn to check if Eddie hadn't accidentally heard you.

"We're grown ups who use our indoor voices," Steve pointedly said, visibly relieved Eddie hadn't been near you to have heard that.

"We're grown ups who decide for themselves how loud they want to speak," you were practically screaming over the music, and it had the two of you giggling into each other as you danced.

Dancing with Steve was fun. He sort of knew what he was doing and would hold you tightly when he did a spin. You'd seen Joyce smile and point you out to someone and knew it was solely because of the way Steve was moving you across the floor.

That was, until you were interrupted.

"Mind if I cut in?" Eddie suddenly appeared beside you, clasping a hand onto Steve's shoulder.

"Of course, but be careful with him, Steve's got two left feet," you joked, and pretended to step back to let Eddie dance with Steve.

"Idiot," Steve laughed and pulled you into a hug, whispered "grown ups!", in your ear and then smiled at Eddie as he passed your hand into his.

"Oh my God," you feigned nervousness as you let Eddie pull you close, one hand on the small of you back, the other holding your hand, just like every single other couple on the dance floor.

"I'm dancing with Eddie Munson," you said sarcastically, copying Matt's tone from earlier, squealing like an excited fan, smiling hard enough to make your eyes squint.

He furrowed his brows to appear offended, hurt even, but it was futile. The smile on Eddie's face was there to stay.

"You've clearly had a few, I see," Eddie noted, and if Eddie was trying to make you feel guilty over it, it wasn't working. You were totally allowed to drink, and weren't going to let Eddie - Eddie, who was responsible for the most difficult years of your life - guilt-trip you for it.

So, you just smiled. And nodded. Because yes, you had had a few. Eddie returned your smile and for a couple of seconds, you just danced and smiled at each other.

"You really do look nice," you said, noticing the blush in Eddie's cheeks that kind of matched your dress, funnily enough.

"Oh my God, stop flirting, people will assume things," Eddie joked in a hushed tone of voice, eyes darting across the room in a fake panic as you looked up at him.

"The people here? I think we both have years of convincing them they shouldn't be assuming shit under our belts, do we not?"

You were definitely flirting, and it felt terrific to feel like you had the upper hand over Eddie this time around. It was such a welcome shift you hadn't anticipated wanting to delve into so badly, but with plenty of others on the dance floor and no possible threat of Matt stepping in, you kind of just went with it. It was fun.

"I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but," Eddie spun you before pulling you back into his chest. Not as smoothly as Steve would've done it, but still nice. "I don't think we ever really managed to properly convince anyone," Eddie grimaced, as if it was the worst news he could've ever broken to you.

You smiled at your feet before whipping you head back up to look at him. With Eddie smiling down at you like that, it seemed like Eddie appreciated you trying to keep the ball in your court. Tonight, Eddie could just look at you as you played with it. He could eagerly wish for you to toss it over the net, which you weren't planning on doing willingly, though you never ruled out the option of the ball slipping from your hands momentarily. Eddie might not have been drinking, but you definitely were. Maybe the ball would accidentally bounce over to him every once in a while, and those moments could be tests - you wanted to see if Eddie would throw the ball back to you on his own accord. And he better. He still had shit to make up to you.

"I got your letter," you blurted out, immediately regretting bringing it up, but Eddie's smile didn't falter.

"Lot of big confessions," you almost sounded challenging in your tone, a playful smile tugging at your cheeks.

"Yeah," Eddie scrunched his face as he elongated the word and nodded, not embarrassed to have written them down, but embarrassed you were talking to him about his feelings now.

"You never wrote me back, though,"

"I didn't,"

Eddie looked at you questioningly, and you were quick to frown at him.

"Um, how does one reply to, 'I was always head over heels, over the moon, out of this universe, so God damn in love with you, and I didn't even fucking know it'... any suggestions?"

"Um, I don't know, thank you, maybe,"

You laughed heartily at him, and Eddie bent into you as he laughed too. When the laughing ceased, and you returned to crow-feeted smiles for one another, Eddie realised that you'd memorized that part of his letter, and you realised that you'd just given that away.

"I do love you too, you know, if that's what you wanted to hear,"

Eddie gasped a small breath.

"You do?"

You nodded and grimaced, almost as if to say, I don't know why either, joining him in his bit.

"I had no idea," Of course Eddie fucking knew.

"What a shocker, hey?"

"I can not believe it. I don't think our friendship can take blows like this."

The music switched from a slight mellow one into a real slow, romantic one. There was no getting out of having to sway slowly to the gentle tunes, and to be honest, you didn't mind at all.

You sighed deeply, then thought of Matt.

"It's too late, is all," you said, ignoring the fact that, actually, even if you had been single, you still probably wouldn't have just accepted Eddie back into your life as easily. Even just as a friend, it was going to be difficult going for him.

"I know,"

You saw Eddie glance over your shoulder, no doubt to look at Matt. When he kept his eyes trained in the same direction for too long, you turned to look and saw Steve look at the two of you. His expression read a little confused, but didn't really say much else. Not to you anyway - you didn't know what had been going on behind your back before you turned around.

"Then again... is it?" Eddie whispered in your ear and then looked at you as he stepped back, let go of you entirely and took three steps backwards before turning on his heel and leaving the dance floor, and then, the solarium entirely. Eddie left you standing there alone, and you turned to look at Steve.

Steve, who, with big eyes, immediately mouthed 'no!' at you.

But you just shrugged, looked at Steve like you kind of had no other choice as your feet started following Eddie's footsteps.

Steve waved his arms to beckon you as discreetly as he could, inaudibly telling you to 'stop', and to 'come here', followed by 'we're grown ups!' but then Matt suddenly popped up next to him, and Steve proved once again that he was the best fucking friend you couldn't even have ever dreamed of asking for. Steve grabbed Matt by the shoulders, gave him a big smile, and engaged into conversation immediately as he turned him around, facing away from you, leaving you every opportunity to slip out and find Eddie.

You found Eddie at the bottom of the stairs in the grand lobby, which, thank fuck, was empty.

He held out his hand for you to grab, and when you did, wanted to leave through the main entrance, but you had a different idea.

"Upstairs,"

"Upstairs?"

"Upstairs."

You held onto Eddie's hand as you lead the way upstairs. Looking down the hallway from the landing, you saw a door that read 'Presidential Suite', and seconds later, you were stood in what was very obviously the bridal suite Jonathan and Nancy were going to be staying in that night. You were both staring at the four poster bed that was covered in rose petals.

"Maybe this isn't..." Eddie turned his head to look at you, and found you were already looking up at him.

"It definitely isn't..." you absolutely knew what he meant, but turned your body into him and snuck an arm into his jacket to curl around his waist.

Shit. You wanted Eddie. Sure, you'd been drinking, but not enough to be taken advantage of. You wanted Eddie, and you wanted him now.

"We might regret this," Eddie spoke softly, just above a whisper, but his nose was already nudging around yours. You couldn't manage a proper reply, but just let out a whimper that sounded enough like you agreed with him before you closed any distance left between the two of you and kissed him.

You kissed Eddie. Took hold of his face, pushed a hand into his hair, and you kissed him. Eddie wrapped both arms around your waist and pulled you in tightly, but didn't move otherwise, and let you kiss him for however long you wanted.

Eddie could cry with how much he needed this, needed you, but didn't make any further moves. You'd been right earlier; the ball was in your court.

You hummed, moaned and panted into Eddie's mouth, let your tongue roam and teeth nibble and you loved every single second of it. You could kiss Eddie like this for hours, and you easily would have, but then, you felt his erection press up against you and suddenly, just kissing wasn't enough. With your mouth still on him, you moved a hand down to press a palm over him, and you felt him flinch. It broke your kiss, and you looked down at it.

Eddie did too.

You palmed him for a few seconds, unable to look away from it, heard how Eddie held his breath and then, you let out a shuddered breath of your own.

"Get on the bed."

Eddie didn't need telling twice. He crawled onto the bed, let himself flop against the pillows sat somewhat upright, and started undoing his pressed trousers as you got busy hiking up your dress at the foot of the bed. After sliding down your underwear and stepping out of them carefully, you climbed onto the bed and Eddie reached out with both arms to help you get on top of him.

Straddling Eddie, and with all lights in the room turned on, you got to look at Eddie's face crumble as you started moving, slowly writhing, sliding up and down. Eddie's hands were clasped onto your sides and both your hands made sure they stayed there. You cocked your head, like a puppy hearing a new sound it tried to figure out, and studied Eddie's face as his eyes rolled to the back of his head before he let his full head fall backwards against the curtained wall behind the pillows. Fascinating. A huge turn on. You couldn't help but dip down and kiss him, and Eddie immediately returned it, full forced, moaning and groaning as he did.

Eddie looked up at you when you broke away from him, and you felt his hands move, firm fingers now digging into your hips as you picked up your pace, and you swore you could see it in his eyes.

You won.

You deserved to win, and you’d won.

You were the focal point of Eddie’s whole world. Past, present, and future. The first and only choice. He’d follow you anywhere, he’d just proven it, just to be near you, to be with you.

You’d won, and you could feel it, looking into Eddie's eyes with your foreheads locked together. Your eyes fluttered shut as you bit your lip before you moaned, and it drove Eddie wild.

You were having devastatingly romantic sex in a bridal suite not meant for you, with a man not meant for you. But you were strong. Made your own decisions. Decided how close you were going to let Eddie get. Chose to fuck him all on your own accord. You'd deal with repercussions later, if there'd even be any, because maybe, you wouldn't allow there to be any. That's how powerful you felt, and you deserved it, Eddie thought so too.

You rode Eddie until your legs cramped, then let Eddie hold you steady as he rammed into you until you saw stars. You toyed with the idea of not letting Eddie get there, but then decided you wanted to feel every single muscle of him shudder underneath you, and so you kept it up until Eddie saw stars too.

A panting puddle of limbs on silk - now wet - sheets, you took a moment to catch your breaths. Let Eddie hold you close. Whisper sweet nothings into your hair. Words that could make you cry if they weren't laced in guilt and shame. You let Eddie do whatever he felt he needed to do, because you didn't mind him fighting for it. You let him, until the pauses between his words drew longer. You let him, until the blinks of his eyes grew slower. You let him, until he'd completely drifted off into blissful dreams of soft kisses, tender touches and sweet smiles.

"Eddie, what the fuck?!"

"What are you doing up here?"

"Get out of here!"

Eddie was rudely awoken by the shrill voice of Nancy, and the very confused voice of Jonathan just a couple hours after he'd fallen asleep in their bed. They'd walked in on him with his dick in his boxers, thank God, but his trousers halfway down his legs still.

"What the..." is all Eddie managed to say in a groggy voice as he tried to make sense of his surroundings.

"Eddie! Get out!" Nancy wasn't going to give him time to adjust and hit him with her bouquet of flowers that she was meant to keep safe, making Eddie roll away from her.

"What's this?" he heard Jonathan on the other side of the bed and saw him pick up a note from a pillow.

Eddie was quick to snatch it from him as he rolled off the bed and was chased into the hallway by Nancy, trying to pull his trousers up as he did.

She slammed the door loudly, making Eddie wince at the echoing sound. He did up his zipper and closed the button before turning his attention to the now crumpled up note in his hand. Eddie rubbed his face and blinked his eyes into focus more, turned the note so the words were no longer upside down. As he read the words you'd left him with, a grin slowly took over his face.

'Sure. Next week. Coffee. x'

It could mean nothing, Eddie knew. It could absolutely totally have zero meaning. But, then again, if Eddie dared let his mind wonder, it held every potential to mean everything.

-----

Read the final installment: Never Over

-----

The Taglisted:

@ghostinthebackofyourhead @dirtyeddietini @kiwisa @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @alana4610 @emmamooney @xomunson @sadbitchfangirl @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @eddiemunsonfuxks @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @munsonmunster @kellysimagines @mybffjoe @harrys-tittie @chaoticgood-munson @jenisnotlost @sherrylyn628 @bdpst-massacre @xeddiesbattattsx @05secondsofsexgods @lovelyblueness @adoreyouusugar @nadixq @prozacandnicotine @munsonswhore86 @alwayslindie @thefemininemystiquee @hauntingbastille @eddie-joe-munson @ali-in-w0nderland @pepperstories @phyllosilicate-s @thebellenouvelle @luvrsbian @joesquinns @choke-me-joey @alizztor @thelostmoonofpooosh @did-it-work @capricornrisingsstuff - (tag list currently full)

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie munsons fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie x y/n #stranger things 4 #joe quinn #joseph quinn #over now #only now #then again

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aphroditesmoon · 2 years

Text

melting moment

harwin strong x targ!reader

summary: harwin falls for the dreamer of house tagaryen.

warnings: nsfw, smut (minors dni!!)

°°°°

The first time he saw you, he knew he had to have you. You were the most beautiful creature he's ever seen. Your peculiar personality might scare off other people's from making friends with you, but it only intrigued him.

A lot of people agree, only the knight and her sister, the princess Rhaenyra, had enough patience an love for you to tolerate and keep up with your weird conversations and random thoughts. You were easily branded as insane. Though no one would have the guts to say it to your face, and you didn't care as you were too busy being caught up in your head.

Harwin was as weirded out by the way you talked just as everyone at first. But the more he guarded you and spent time with you, the more he paid attention what you were saying, he realizes you might not be sputtering garbage after all.

He believes you were some sort of magical entity gifted with the gift if prophecy by the gods themselves.

He remembers the one time you wouldn't stop rambling and repeating about thirsty rats and something about a killer in a knight's armor during Rhaenyra's wedding day.

He assume it the same as always, you're daydreaming again. But then Rhaenyra's sworn knight starts beating the shit out of a man until he died. And your voice repeats themselves in his head over and over as he rushes to escort you to your room to safety.

As he secures you inside, he realizes you don't look even e bit scared, a disgusted expressions crossed your face when you saw the poor man's barely existing face, but that was all. It's almost as if you had expected it.

He tried telling himself it was impossible, and that he was overthinking it, but deciding to indulge his curiosity, he asks you if what had happened was what you had been talking about all morning.

Instead of answering him you had only stared at him for a solid 2 minutes making him sweat under your intense gaze, before slowly smiling softly.

As weird as it sounded, he felt the answer to his question was already answered by the peculiar given grin.

Since that night, he had spent the rest of his guarding with more friendliness, learning the gears of how your mind works and becoming fast friends with you.

He realizes then that if there was one thing more beautiful than your appearance, it was your mind.

He prides himself for being an honorable knight and protector of the princess, yet each day his want to be more than that increases.

How could he not crave to have more between you when his days that use to start from standing by your door from morning to eve goes to laying by your lap as he gives you permission (after many begging and puppy eyes while holding his hand) to braid his hair with flowers.

He has had the miraculous luck of feeling your hands running through his hair and your lips on his cheeks for a thankful peck. The only thing holding him back from doing anything unbecoming of his station was your station yourself.

He cared too much to risk dishonoring you in any way.

But when one day she surprises him with a stunning ruby engraved dagger made of valyrian steel for his seven and twentieth named day, he told himself himself would marry her.

She looked so happy by his own joy that he couldn't stop himself from holding her face in the palm of his hands and closing her mouth with his. claiming her.

She flinched at the contact at first. But as he pulls away to apologize, she pushes their mouths together again and he was ever the willing to reciprocate the kiss.

That same night he informed his father of his intentions to wed you.

To say that Lionel was nervous for his son was an understatement, he was well aware that compared to the Targaryens, they've nothing to offer them. But for his dutiful son, he would try to speak with the king.

The king ended up giving Lionel a vague confusing answer then proceeded to request the presence of Harwin himself to present his intentions for his daughter.

He offers the king nothing but his loyalty and love for you, vowing to protect you with his life as that is all he has of him to give.

Viserys was doubtful, but knowing how different her daughter is compared to the other girls of the court and her own sister, it wasn't shocking that he fears for her fate as well and wishes to wed her to someone he's sure would take care of her, not trusting himself to tie her to some political alliances.

And so, trusting the knight's reputation as the strongest man in the seven kingdoms and the loyalty if his father and dear friend to himself, He gives his blessing and announces their betrothal the next day.

He was attached to you like a second shadow from them on always needing to be near you at all times, if people had thought you two were familiar before, now they have to try and not throw up at your displays of affection.

It's not your fault you're both infatuated with eachother. He was too impatient to restrain himself until you were wed.

And that is the story of how you found yourself splayed on your bed, legs wide open with his fist inside your cunt, wrist deep fucking you.

He's thrusting his hand in you while clenching and unclenching his fist as you're moaning and screaming out his name in an unholy erotic manner that's making his cock harder.

He marvels at the sight in front of him. Your laid bare body writhing under his gaze pulling and gripping the sheets with your mouth hung open chanting out his name, tears wetting your cheeks. Your tits red with his bruises and bitemarks.

His cock twitches at the sound of your whine when he uses the thumb of his free hand to rub on your clit. You were arching your back and clenching on his fist begging him to go deeper.

"so fucking tight for me, hm? no matter how many times you take my cock." You clench harder at his words. His pacing becomes unrelenting as he fucks you through your orgasm, rising up to shove his mouth againts yours, letting your tongues dance with eachother's.

You came with his name spilling off your lips repeatedly as he moves his to assault your neck, licking and kissing the marks from before.

You whine at the lost of contact as he slowly takes out his wrist from you, licking and sucking off the juices off his hand, never breaking the eye contact.

He pushed two fingers through your lips and you instinctively suck on it making him groan at the bewitching sight.

As he starts rubbing himself on your thigh your hand links behind his neck to pull him closer, needing him inside of you

"Think I've stretched you enough, sweet girl?" He was met witha delirious moan as a response as you start wrapping your legs around him and grinding your sensitive raw cunt on his hardness.

He groans low in your ear, trying not to pound into you. "Say it." He grunts out. "Say you want my cock."

He was forcing you to submit, and gods you loved it so much you're embarassed.

"Please Harwin, please-need you, need your cock inside me-" You let out a strangled moan as his restraints broke and he holds your thighs apart, shoving his fat cock in you, plunging in and out of you so hard, the wet squelches of your skin slapping became as loud as your screams.

His back was being scarred and torn apart by your nails dragging and holding on to him with your dear life as he took you apart, ruining you for anyone else.

"Mine, all mine. My sweet dreamer, my pretty dragon girl." You couldn't respond if you wanted to, the only noises coming out of you, incoherent.

You've predicted many things, but you wonder why your dreams never told you you'd be this happy.

#harwin strong #ser harwin strong x reader #harwin strong x reader #ser harwin strong #ser harwin #house of the dragon #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #hotd

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cassiefromhell · 11 months

Text

Stars

JJK man of choice x Curse!Reader

Choices that won't work for this piece: any non-human character (maybe choso?) and assholes (toji. just toji)

wc: 700

warnings: kinda sad ngl. but none other than that

a/n: i had an idea. and then i didnt know which character to write it for. so you pick. (kinda nanami/geto/other chill character coded im ngl) this is all over the place but i needed it out of my system. anyways have fun

The stars have fascinated you for as long as you can remember.

You find yourself staring at them tonight, sitting on the roof of the building you’ve lived in for the past three years. Your knees are tucked to your chest, shingles digging into the soles of your bare feet.

But you just can’t help it. You wanted to watch the stars. So you are.

Your thumbs rub over your knees, feeling the velvet skin underneath. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been in this body, or that you can’t even recall what it was like when you were a mindless curse, your skin never feels like your own. You’re not human — you couldn’t even pretend that, given that most people can’t even see you. But you look like one, to those that can see you. Sometimes you feel like one.

So this body is yours, in the end.

Why, then, does it often feel so strange?

“You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

You wouldn’t have even been able to sense his presence if it hadn’t been for the cursed energy radiating off of him. It’s rare to see him like this, out of his normal gear.

“Sorry,” you say, not sounding very apologetic. “Needed air.”

“You’re a curse. You don’t need oxygen.”

“I feel like I do.”

He sighs, and sits next to you, leaning back on his hands. “Why are you up?”

You shrug, gesturing up towards the sky. “The sky is pretty. It’d be a waste to not look at it.”

He’s silent. Like he knows you’re lying.

“Have you ever had a fascination with the sky?”

“No.”

You open and close your mouth once, then twice— and then frown. “Maybe that’s not a human thing. You have such trivial fascinations, sometimes.”

“Like what?”

“Money. Fame. Being better than everyone else.”

“And the sky isn’t trivial?”

“The sky stays,” you stand up, starting to walk up and down the center of the roof. “It remains above you, always.”

There’s a long pause. It’s not exactly uncomfortable. You’ve lived with this man long enough, had him close enough to understand his silence at times.

“Is it alright if I ask you something?” he inquires, tilting his head forward. A piece of hair falls over his forehead.

“Fire away.”

“Do you ever wonder what it would be like to be human?”

Your breath catches in your throat, and you cough a little. “Sometimes.”

“Go on.”

You sigh, sinking back down into your position next to him, laying back on the roof and staring up at the stars once more. “December 7th, 1989, I open my eyes for the very first time in this body. I would later discover that I was something else before then, some sort of a mindless curse, made out of the broken hearts of humans,” your eyelids flutter shut. “But at that moment, I knew that I was… other. I understood what a human was, but had no understanding of what they think or why they do what they do. I’ve come to learn that humans have a much broader sense of life than I do. And I wish I had that. That thrill of a first love, the heart-pounding nervousness of a virgin about to have sex with the one they believe is their future, the satisfying smile a couple gives each other on their deathbeds knowing that they have done everything together, lived their lives through and through. All I know is the fear of love. The cry your heart gives when you hold out your hand and they step away, the shattering of hope when they reject you, when they die and leave you behind. It’s built into me. And I wish I could see the other side.”

His hand reaches out, his finger brushing your cheek. “You’re closer to humans than any other curse. Hell, that’s why you’re here. I was assigned to take you under my wing, make sure you weren’t a psychopath like most conscious curses. But you aren’t. I once watched you sit outside and watch a bee for twenty minutes. And I think that’s the most human thing — you admire the beauty of life, of humanity.”

And for the very first time, a tear slips down your cheek. He wipes it away.

“See?” he holds up his damp thumb. “Human.”

“…Human,” you nod, chewing your lip.

His hand slips around to cradle the side of your face, tilting your head up to meet his, noses brushing. An unfamiliar heat creeps up your spine as you admire those perfect eyes of his.

“Let me show you the other side.”

And you let him.

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cacoetheswriting · 11 months

Text

pearl: march 1986

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader word count: 3.4k summary: hushed confessions midst the end of the world.

content warnings: best friends to lovers, slow burn, violence / blood / description of injuries (events from s4), mentions of death / losing a loved one, adult language, use of pet names, emotional hurt / no comfort - if i missed anything, pls let me know!

pearl masterlist

March 21, 1986

Everyone that’s ever met Eddie Munson, knows he’s not one for rational and thought out decisions.

As a matter of fact, even people that have never made an effort to get to know him also always just assume he acts on impulse. They’re all correct. He does tend to act on gut instinct. Based on his feelings rather than sound logic. He’s not one for overthinking and over analysing every single scenario. He acts purely by following his heart.

However, as Eddie stared into Chrissy Cunningham’s snow-like empty eyes, he deeply regretted not being a person who took a second before making a choice.

“Wake up, Chrissy.”

His own voice sounds panicked and honestly, how can it not be. She was pale and cold to the touch. This was beyond fucking weird, like some creepy horror shit and Eddie wanted no part of it.

“Chrissy, wake up!” He’s pleading, shaky hands tapping her shoulders nervously, “I don’t like this, Chrissy! Wake up!”

He finds himself still praying for this to be some sort of stupid prank, hoping that Jason Carver will jump out at any given moment with a video camera and a stupid grin plastered across his idiotic face, yelling: “We got you, freak!”.

Unfortunately, as the lights flicker out of control and the longer Eddie shakes the blonde's seemingly unconscious frame, the more he thinks this is definitely not a high-school prank ‘cause those idiots aren’t smart enough to pull off something as elaborate as this.

“Chrissy, wake up now! Chrissy—”

Then the phone rings, startling him even more. He glances at the device mounted on the wall and his eyes gloss over with tears. He knows who’s calling. But he can’t answer, can he? You’d instantly sense something is off and he can’t risk you coming here out of worry and also being witness to… to whatever the fuck was happening right now. Plus, would you even believe him if he told you in the first place?

Hastily running a hand down his face, feeling nothing but extreme fright, Eddie approaches the phone and after quickly looking back at Chrissy, he places the handset to his ear.

“H-he- llo-”

The line distorts your voice. He can barely make out your greeting and the question that follows. Not like it matters anyway. Not like anything matters ‘cause Chrissy’s body lifts itself off the ground and is now floating mid-air in his small living room.

“What the f—”

“E-ed-die? A-re y-you oka—”

Chrissy’s unconscious frame flings itself against the ceiling with a thud and the metalhead drops the handset, chord dangling against the wall as his own body falls helplessly to the ground.

“Jesus Christ!” Eddie yells as he tries to push himself backwards, deeper into the trailer

Every inch of him is terrified. He’s screaming now and he’s sure you can hear him on the other line. Then his gut instinct kicks in. The one he blamed for getting him into this mess in the first place is now urging him to get up and run. If not for his sake, than for the person he loved most in this world.

You’re no doubt going to either come here or call for help, or both, and when Chief Powell comes with his goon squad, they’re going to think Eddie’s responsible for this horrific scene. They’d lock him up, no questions asked.

And Eddie couldn’t have you thinking you killed this poor girl. He needed that chance to explain himself. Surely you’ll forgive him for running. Surely you’ll understand.

March 22, 1986

“I swear, I don’t even know her name,” Mr. Munson tells the police, “I never seen her ‘fore.” He exhales a long and no doubt exhausted breath, then briefly glances at you. “I got the call shortly after you guys did, I assume. Eddie’s friend here, well, she uh… she found the girl.”

“I think it’s— Her name is Chrissy,” you blurt out quietly, “Chrissy Cunningham.”

Chief Powell straightens his posture. His gaze narrows, only for his expression to soften a split second later. You assume it’s because you look terrible. Eyes puffy, makeup smudged from a mix of tears and stress, and your bottom lip won’t stop trembling.

“And how did Eddie know,” he pauses and lowers his voice, “Miss Cunningham?”

You shrug. “They go to the same school so I assume that’s where they met.”

Chief Powell nods, motions for Officer Callahan to come over, whispers something in the young police officer's ear, and without saying anything else to you, he walks away.

“Do you know where he went?” Officer Callahan asks.

“Eddie? No, I don’t.” You answer honestly, crossing your arms across your chest. “I-I heard him scream over the phone and when I asked what was going on and… h-he wouldn’t respond to me, I-I got here as fast as I could. Then I contacted the station and then Mr. Munson.”

“Eddie rang you?” Officer Callahan enquiries.

“I called him.”

“And did you know the young lady was with him?”

“No, I thought he was alone,” you say and glance at Wayne, who’s gone over to talk to another officer. He shoots you a timid smile, the best he can probably muster at this time, and proceeds to search the pockets of his pants for his packet of smokes.

You sigh. “Look, I know you’re probably thinking Eddie did this, but I can assure you, he did not.”

Officer Callahan raises a brow, as if to urge you to go on. So you do.

“When I called Eddie… Sir, I heard him scream. He sounded fucking terrified. Why would he be so scared if he’s the one that did this?” You pause, “I-I think there was someone else at the trailer last night and—”

“Thank you, Miss.” Officer Callahan interrupts and leans in a little closer towards you, “Since you heard some of what happened here last night, we’ll get someone from the squad to escort you home.”

“You think I’m in danger?” You practically scoff, “Eddie didn’t do this. He shouldn’t be chased down like some sort of criminal. He’s a victim here too!”

That turns a few heads, Chief Powell and Wayne included. You curse under your breath yet even though you can feel yourself getting really frustrated, all you can think about is Eddie. What he witnessed last night, the scene you came across when you arrived at the trailer, you’re convinced something’s happening in the Upside Down again. This whole circus is a total waste of time. Eddie’s not safe.

Chief Powell is now back in front of you. His hands are on his hips, trying to assert dominance, and a frown is spread across his features. “Look, kid, I liked your dad. He was a good man and what happened to him, well it’s no doubt caused you a lot of pain.”

You’re chewing on the inside of your cheek, fighting back the tears, as Chief Powell continues. “Please let one of my officers take you home, okay? Your mom is probably worried sick since gossip in this town spreads like wildfire,” he tries to lighten the mood but fails, “And I’ll make you a deal, okay? If you stay home with your mom, I’ll make sure when we find young Mr. Munson, we won’t treat him harshly.”

One of his hands is now on your shoulder, squeezing it in an act of reassurance.

“You’ll call me too,” you add.

Chief Powell nods. “You’ll be the first person I call. Deal?”

Growing up with a dad on the force exposed you to a lot of things kids normally don’t encounter until much later in life, if ever. Your dad taught you a lot. One of the things being: people aren’t always honest when their reputation is on the line. Chief Powell didn’t really care about what happened to Eddie, not even for your sake, which meant you had to do everything in you power to find the metalhead first.

“Deal,” you lie through your teeth, faking a kind smile.

However, you couldn’t do that alone.

“Dustin, please tell me you have something.”

Headset pressed to your ear, cord wrapped around your wrist. You’re bouncing impatiently and every so often, nervously peeping around the corner into the living room where your mom sat with Wayne.

They didn’t seem to hear you or your scheming, too lost in a conversation you really couldn’t follow right now. You had other pressing matters on your mind — finding your… your Eddie.

“If you stopped asking me every five seconds, perhaps I’d have more information to give you,” Dustin jeers. His tone is not meant to be harmful and you don’t take it that way. You’re just glad they all agreed to help. “Here, can one of you calm her down? I need to think.”

You assume he passes the phone to either Robin or Steve, and you’re proven right when the next thing you hear is, “Hey, how are you doing?”, in the smooth tone of Mr. Best Hair in Hawkins himself.

“How do you think?” You snap, quickly following your mini outburst with, “Sorry, this is just…”

“A lot?” Steve finishes your sentence and although he can’t see you, you nod against the headset.

“Well, our best people are on it. We’ll find him.” Steve tries to reassure.

“I hope so,” you breathe, once again glancing in the direction of Wayne and your mom. “This whole situation is just so fucked up and like really scary. I thought El closed the portal. I thought last July was the end of these encounters with the Upside Down.”

“We all did,” Steve mumbles on the other line, “But you can’t think ahead right now, okay? First thing is to find Eddie before anyone else does.”

As always, Harrington was right. “I know. I just wish I could be helping you guys, but instead I’m stuck here with a fucking police unit outside my home.”

Steve exhales into the headset. He’s about to say something when all of a sudden there’s a little commotion followed by some seemingly excited mumbling. You’re about to ask what’s going on when you hear my own being called over and over again on the other line.

“Tell me you still have your walkie?” Dustin is back on the line, “You know the one from last year’s Starcourt Mall events? Tell me, tell me, tell me!”

“I-I do, yeah. It’s somewhere in my wardrobe.”

“Go, go get it right now and make sure it still works,” Dustin instructs eagerly, “We have a good lead as to where Eddie is hiding out. We’ll contact you when we’re with him.”

You have questions that you don’t get to ask ‘cause a mere split second later, all you hear is the dial tone.

Your mind is spinning, heart racing. They found him. A small victory — although why didn’t it feel like one?

March 23, 1986

“So, I guess they told you everything, huh?” You ponder into the walkie, pulling the bedspread up to your chin.

The room feels dark and cold. You suppose, given the situation, it almost is. Your blinds are shut tight and you have the light switched off, so that any lurkers couldn’t suspect you’re sitting here — and since yesterday afternoon, that number has unfortunately increased significantly.

As soon as Jason’s goon squad found out about the situation, he sent a couple of his trusted “men” to keep an eye on you and your house. The police officers assigned to “protect” me, rotated in shifts, and dare you say have gotten a little too comfortable, knocking on your door to use the bathroom or smooth-talk your mom into making them coffee. Word also spread through town about Eddie being a devil worshipper and as his “girlfriend”, you simply had to be lying about his whereabouts. Honestly, all the crowd across the road is missing are pitchforks.

Idiots. As if you’d be stupid enough to lead any of them to Eddie.

“Yeah,” Eddie exhales into the walkie, “They did.”

You swallow. “I-I suppose you’re wondering why I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“No,” he’s quick to respond, “Not really. I mean, you did what you had to, princess. What you thought was right and I can’t be mad at that. But it does explain a lot. Like—”

“My nightmares,” you chime and Eddie chuckles lightly before agreeing. “Yeah, like your nightmares.”

There’s a moment of congenial silence.

You want nothing more than to be by his side and have him hold you in his arms, kissing the top of your head. Fuck. Tears form in the corners of your eyes at the thought. Not only was that not possible right now, neither of you knew when you’d actually see each other again. The topic loomed over your heads, yet you didn’t dare to utter the words aloud ‘cause things were so good recently, and now… Well, avoidance worked for you in the past, (for a while anyway).

“I’m sorry, Eds.”

“Don’t be, sweetheart.”

“Well, maybe if I told you sooner, we wouldn’t be in this mess right now. Maybe if you knew what we all knew, you could have come here instead of hiding out all alone. So yeah, I’m sorry. I’m always going to be sorry.”

Eddie sighs into the walkie. “Timing just never seems to be on our side, huh.”

When you don’t respond, because it hurts your heart, you half expect him to cut the conversation short, say he’s tired or whatever and wish you a goodnight. And you wouldn’t blame him either. You’ve all had a tough couple of days, but his must have been the most exhausting.

The metalhead seems to have other plans.

“Cry baby. Cry baby. Cry baby. Honey, welcome back home.”

You can’t help but crack a smile as Eddie starts singing softly. His voice, although a little distorted, is as angelic as ever and you let your eyes close, resting your head on the headboard — you’re not entirely sure at which point you drift off to sleep but you do, imagining the metalhead is next to you.

“I know she told you.

Hon', I know she told you that she loved you

Much more than I did

But I know that she left you

And you swear that you just don't know why

But you know, hon', I'll always

I'll always be around

If you ever want me”

March 27, 1986

The last few days have been a complete and utter blur, not to mention a horrifying mess.

You manage to sneak out of your over-guarded home, although your reunion with Eddie isn’t as happy as you both would’ve liked it to be ‘cause suddenly, you find yourselves in the Upside Down fighting for your lives.

Eddie helps Dustin up the makeshift rope before turning to you. The second his chocolate-like gaze locks with yours, a shiver runs down your spine. You can’t exactly tell what he’s thinking, but he’s serving an apologetic expression with a broken smile.

So you do what feels right in the moment and throw your arms around his neck, causing him to stumble backwards a little. He doesn’t hesitate to hug you back. If anything, his grip is a lot stronger than normal and you’re feeling even more concerned than seconds ago.

“Come on!” Dustin yells, “We don’t have time for this!”

The rest of the teens' words fizzle out into the background. All you’re focused on is the faint sound of Eddie’s heartbeat and his hushed breathing into the crook of your neck. Tears begin to swell in your eyes, but before you get to ask why this feels like a goodbye when you’ve just reunited, he places a kiss on your cheek and lets his arms fall.

“Go on, princess.”

You glance at the rope he’s now holding before looking back at him.

“Eddie—”

“Go on. I’m right behind you,” Eddie reassures and you don’t try to protest anymore because you trust him. Instead, you reach for the rope and begin to climb up, aware of his hands hovering over your lower back, ready to push or hold you up if needed.

You fall through and immediately stand to allow space for Eddie, however, the metalhead doesn’t follow. Dustin is yelling, urging Eddie on whose sole attention is on you. You realise then what he’s been planning and your throat dries to the point where it feels like sandpaper.

“Eddie,” you call out, voice breaking, “You said you were right behind. I-I am begging you, please, please, come here.”

He offers you a smile. One that causes your heart to falter. You know what he’s doing. You know now exactly what he’s thinking. Most importantly, you know what he’s going to say next and you don’t want to hear it. Not here.

“Please, Eddie.” you beg him, eyes watering, “Not like this.”

“I love you, princess.”

And before the admission can even settle in the air, before you get a chance to say that you love him too, desperately and with your whole heart, you’re forced to watch him rush off as Dustin hollers his name.

The room comes to a standstill. For a couple of seconds, you’re unable to move. Your body feels heavy as you’re staring blankly ahead at the spot Eddie’s just vanished from. He loves me, you think, bottom lip quivering. He loves me.

Inhale, exhale. You snap back to reality. The tears that have been forming in your eyes stop before they breach completely.

Dustin is pacing. He stops when you call his name: once, twice, three times. The two of you exchange a knowing glance. Neither of you speak. There’s no time. The young teen helps you without question. He's on the floor in seconds, ready to hoist you up.

It takes a few attempts, mostly because your whole body is shaking, but you manage to go through the portal once again.

“Don’t wait for me,” Dustin urges in a panicked tone. “Find him.”

All you do is nod.

Eddie’s not hard to find. His agonising screams give his location away pretty quickly. And you’re terrified as you run in his direction. Terrified of what he’s gotten himself into and terrified if he was gonna make it out alive.

He’s coughing up blood when you reach him. You immediately fall to your knees next to him and scan his extensive wounds, hands shaking. The scene in front of you is grisly. Your mind is racing, trying to come up with a way to help him — help get him out of here safely and to a hospital as soon as possible.

Ultimately you feel helpless ‘cause you’re not sure how to do that.

Eddie coughs again. His hand reaches for yours and he squeezes, bringing you back to Earth.

“Look at me,” he murmurs and you oblige without hesitation. “I-I’m okay, so get out of here.”

You shake my head rather ferociously. “I-I’m not leaving you.” You finally allow yourself to start crying, readjusting your position so that his head is now resting in your lap. “I shouldn’t have let you do this in the first place. Why did you do this, Eddie?”

“It’s done now.” Eddie does his best to offer you a smile. “I-I didn’t run. I fought back.”

The tears that are trailing down your cheeks are burning into your skin. You smile back, a broken smile with nothing but pain behind it, then brush some of his loose curls away from his face. You proceed to cup his cheek and Eddie leans into your touch. It’s a moment that feels safe — despite the fact that your intertwined fingers are resting on his chest and you can feel the blood seep through.

He squeezes your hand again. “I-I meant what I said—”

“Not like this,” you interrupt in a whimper, “Ehm… Uhm… Dustin will be here soon a-and we’re gonna get you out of here together. You’re gonna be okay. Then you can tell me again, okay? Not like this, Eddie.”

But he just shakes his head. “Yes, yes like this. I-I love you.”

“Eddie—”

“P-please, sweetheart. Please. I love you…”

Eddie’s voice fades into the darkness that’s surrounding the two of you and his eyes drift close.

You say his name.

When you gauge no reaction, you say it again, and again, and again.

Then you scream.

First in agony, then you scream his name. You beg him to open his eyes, but he’s unresponsive. Bloody hand in yours, he’s drifting somewhere between life and death and you continue to cry.

That’s how Dustin finds you. Eddie, dying in your arms.

pearl masterlist

& tagging some cool people that expressed interest in this lil series: @cactusangie , @spenciesprincess , @capitanostella , @ashlynnkennedy , @ms1oftheboys , @kurdtbean

#im sorry in advance—#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson story #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson angst #bestfriend!eddie munson #eddie munson x best friend reader #pearl (eddies version)

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pixiesticknix · 3 months

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this is my first post, idea to post this was given by a friend. so i’m sorry if my spelling/grammar is off! i’m not used to doing this haha 😅 i’m sorry in advance. might be hard to follow!

pt 1 (won’t post the rest lol)

TW: Mentions of SH, Suicidal thoughts

As the door opened, francis stepped in his small apartment. his eyes drooped, his body ached with pain. he just wanted to rest. Francis sat his things down, locking the door behind him, the hat that read his cursed name, “milkman”, was put upon his hooks. The man, tired with the world, began to unbutton his shirt. his steps heavy with agony. he hadn’t slept in a few days, he wanted to sleep but the thought of one of those..monsters out there laying a hand on his daughter kept him awake at night. Francis glanced into his mirror, his feet stopping, his body twisted to look at himself. seeing all of his imperfections, a sigh leaving his lips “no wonder she left..” Francis mumbled to himself.

Francis’ shirt dropped to the floor. he was too tired to pick it up. he went to his kitchen, grabbing a glass, getting some ice and putting it in it. the sound the ice made in the glass bothered him. Francis reached into his cabinet and pulled a bottle of Jack Daniels, pouring him a glass. despite the rumors that surrounded the building, Francis didn’t drink milk twenty four seven. Francis sipped his drink, going over to the living room that merged into a small dining area. although when Anastacha was around, he did try to eat with her at the table. (which most times ended with her eating her room).

as francis nursed the drink in hand, his mind began to wonder. he looked at the calendar. he wanted to take Anastacha to the movies this weekend, but with the rising of rent and inflation, he simply couldn’t come up with the funds. to save him from the embarrassment and dealing with Nacha being a bit upset, he told her he was coming down with something. the cold? flu? honestly he didn’t know. just another lame excuse. he felt like a bum. Francis finished his drink, a part of him wanted to get another. but he didn’t. instead he went to his medicine cabinet, grabbing the bottle of tylenol. he took a few. to be honest, he just had a headache and he didn’t put the over spill of pills back into the bottle. he swallowed them dry and put the bottle back. Francis took a deep breath, “what a waste” he mumbled to himself. he went back to the couch, looking at the blank television. staring at the reflection staring back at him. “what a waste” he repeated. believing in his words. Francis stood, he poured himself another drink.

the drinks began to flow, one after another. Francis’ head ached even more, his heart pounding. his mind began to wonder, would Anastacha be better without him? he did his best to provide for her, but Nacha always came out on top. she sent her to a better school, cooking home cooked meals for her. meanwhile he struggled to make ends meet. He didn’t want people to realize how much he was struggling. he tried to think of the people who’d want him here, but he could only think about a few neighbors. Mr Gauss came to mind. his mind began to ease. they were good friends, Izaack knew how to make him smile when no one else genuinely knew how to. as Francis kept thinking about him, he smiled slightly. his eyes were so easy to look into, the way he spoke. how he moved. as his mind wondered, the thought occurred. did francis like Izaack more than a friend? francis’ heart shattered slightly when he realized he did. “sick freak” he mumbled to himself. he found himself back in the place he started in. wondering who’d want him, especially if anyone learned he was going gay for the reporter. they’d all think he was sick, especially Izaack. he could see it now, Francis slipping up by mistake. everyone laughs at him. izaack leaves him. francis couldn’t let that happen.

francis didn’t know how it happened, he must’ve been too drunk to realize what he’d did and the extent of it. in the morning, Francis woke up to his wrists throbbing slightly, a bit itchy. his head ached. when francis saw what he did, he shook his head “god no..” he muttered. how was he going to hide this now? although his body tried to fight it, Francis managed to throw on his uniform. rolling his sleeves down further. he went to work.

the day was boring, same old same old. he carried his milk around, dropping it off. the repeat of the day before. this time he paid a bit more attention to his actions. When returning to the apartments, Nacha caught up to him. “Hey francis” she looked at him, concern filled her eyes “Anastacha said you’re sick. how are you feeling? do you want some soup? i have left overs”. Francis shook his head, he started to walk faster to get away. leaving Nacha behind, a bit puzzled as to why he didn’t say anything. when he got to his floor, his door, he started to unlock his door. the familiar voice behind him caused him to stop.

“francis?” he said, Izaack stood behind him “how are you? haven’t heard back from you about meeting me and the guys at angu-“

francis cut him off by scurrying into his apartment and locking the door behind him. Izaack knew something was up, he went to the door and knocked against it “Francis?” he asked. his tone filing with worried “Francis let me in..”. francis didn’t respond at first. he put his things away. he checked the peephole after roughly 5 minutes. to his surprise he saw izaack waiting. Francis leaned against the door. his hands rested onto the door knob, his finger tips shivering.

francis pulled his hand away. he couldn’t find the energy to open the door for someone once again. was he just going to get hurt like everyone else hurt him? francis went and hid in the bedroom. he waited a while, hoping Izaack was gone.

by nightfall, francis was finally going to catch up on sleep. he changed his clothes, getting ready for bed. there was a knock at the door once again, francis went to the door, looked through the peephole and saw Izaack. Izaack pushed the door open slightly “Francis what’s going on? i ran into Nacha and she said you just walked away from her. that’s not you” he was worried for his friend. he pushed his way into the apartment. Francis crossed his arms across his blue short sleeve shirt. his PJ’s you could say. the man wore a matching blue rubber ducky boxers to bed. “i’m fine Izaack, just under the weather” he mumbled. his voice barely above a whisper. Izaack explored his friend. Francis watched his eyes, seeing them catch on something..dang it. he forgot. Izaack looked at Francis “what are those?” he asked, his tone dropping. francis shrugged, “i have no idea what you’re talki-“ he was stopped mid sentence. Izaack grabbed his wrist and twisted it to reveal the cuts on his wrists. “These. Francis. i’m not stupid. what the fuck did you do?” he asked. Francis’ eyes danced between horror, sadness, and fear. Francis’ mouth opened to respond, but anything he managed to muster out of him just came out as gibberish. Izaack paused him for a second “hold on francis, just take a deep breath before you pass out..”. francis nodded, he did was instructed. francis moved over to the arm of the couch and looked at his friend, hiding his arm away. “Izaack it’s not what you think..” he finally whispered, his voice cracking. Izaack looked at his friend “not what i think? francis. we both know that’s a lie” he looked at francis “just..why did you do it?” he asked. Francis shrugged “i don’t..know. many reasons i guess?..”. izaack was silent for a moment, he stepped away from francis. “francis, do you want to kill yourself?” he finally asked “is that why you’re so tired all the time? francis what’s all going on?”. francis was surprised by how bold the question was. “i..dont?” he muttered “its hard to explain izaack. like i wouldn’t..mind if anything happened to me. but i’m not willingly trying i guess? i just think last night i had one too many drinks and did something…something dumb huh?” he looked at Izaack. his stomach twisted seeing how hurt izaack was. “why would you even care izaack? you’re a well known reporter, you have plenty of friends. i just ruin everyone’s moods!” he rambled on. izaack stopped him “well maybe because no one else is you francis? don’t you ever stop and realize people actually like you for who you are? not to mention you’re cute! i mean..not in that kind of way..but in that way?”. francis’ face started to flush “you think i’m cute?” he asked, crossing his arms “now you’re lying there buddy.”. Izaack shook his head “i’m not. i know it. francis you’re..special” he sighed. he crossed his arms, hiding his face “i didn’t want to tell you this. i didn’t want to be seen as a pervert francis but i guess you need the truth more than what i thought..” he mumbled. “i have feelings for you. i didn’t want you to know because i was scared that i’d lose my friend who..actually understands what im dealing with. i mean yeah, Angus and Steven are great and all. McLooy is pretty much the only old..guy here that isn’t a boring lawyer or whatever. Afton is smart but i mean he has his fiancé and just..” he shrugged, he turned away. “i didn’t want to lose my friend. i can deal with rejection but losing you francis i..can’t.” he finally admitted. francis’ heart skipped a beat “I had..no idea izaack..” he muttered. he went to him placed his hand against his cheek “Izaack you’re not going to lose me” he said. Izaack looked into his eyes “i want to believe you but..i can’t if you hurt yourself francis.. i just..what if you accidentally did something? would you’d know how much that would hurt me?” he asked, francis stood on his toes, he closed the distance between the two with a kiss. he parted their lips for a second. izaack was in shock, he didn’t expect francis to share the same feelings. “francis you didn’t have to..i know i’m a fool but i

#thats not my neighbor #tnmn #fanfic #francis mosses #izaack gauss #gay

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zxvak47 · 1 year

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣄⣤⣤⣀⣄⣤⣠⣤⣤⡤⠤⠤⢤⣀⣤⡀⠀⠀⣰⠀⠀⢰⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⠿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠧⠴⠛⠛⠒⠛⠉⠉⠋⠉⠉⠉⠉⢸⣿⣿⠿⠏⠉⠁⠀⢰⣿⠁⠀⠉⢿⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⠇⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠙⠿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

WEDDING DAY , simon “ghost” x fem reader

(suffocating in fluff > <!!)

very rushed, I’m tired and it’s 4hr30am so gn!

WARNINGS: none! happy crying!

↳

R/N rarely cried. Not that she wasn’t sensitive or cold blooded she just learned out to manage her emotions. Today was an important day for both y/n and Simon. Not once did she believe she would be getting married to such a man. A man who was hurting but kept it together, for her. “Love sucks when you’ve got a broken heart” the both of you have been through hell and back, and through some but managed to keep it together throughout the last three years.

R/N’s father had passed away, and when he did she was just little, and not knowing the rest of her brought her to wonder just how this day would play out. No family, an orphan who wasn’t so alone anymore. She didn’t know who would walk her down the isle till Simon somehow brought up the conversation with none other than Price. He knew Price and her had such a bond together that a father and daughter could only understand.

Asking him to do it felt like a challenge for Simon. Everyone knew Simon wanted the best for his Fiancé, and if he had to push himself out of his own boundary for her he would do it without any question.

She was beautiful to Simon. Her dress in an off white, sticking perfectly to each and every curve. Everyone was in awe at her beauty. Her arm was now being linked with Prices arm, smiling as he did so.

“Come on love” He said, watching the girl tear up with every peaceful stride down the isle.

R/N smiled when she saw Simon. His tuxedo all black and justifying his muscles subtly. Of course they made their own rules, his balaclava was on at the beginning. He took it off once R/N’a veil was flipped, and there it began.Words were given from the man who would be marrying the couple, till Simon grabbed R/N’s hands into his. His hands were calloused, but none the less felt comforting in the stress and unity of the moment.

He couldn’t stop his gaze from staying out on the bride, and R/N couldn’t help but look into those beautiful eyes of his. It got to the point where staring made everything distorted as if no one else in the room was there except them.

The two were now told to share one another’s vows.

“Simon, if everything I wanted to say about you was put on this piece of paper I’d be reading till my jaw was in pain and till my lungs give out. You had caught me at a bad place three years back and I couldn’t thank you enough for just being there with me. Though neither you or I have truly been happy with our lives and how we chose to live them, just know…you have shaped me to finally become happy with how I live my life and to keep living my life. I’ll always choose you, you’ll never be a second option, you are my second half. Simon, I love you… you are who has shaped me to who I am and who I will keep being. I hope you stay long enough to live this joy out with me till the day I die.”

R/N couldn’t bring herself to look around the room. The sniffling of the congregation, of her and Simon’s friends told the answer. The girl couldn’t even look at Simon till she felt it was necessary. He wasn’t crying, but you could tell the tears in his flooded waterline was sooner or later going to explode.

“R/N, not most people see me to be the kind of guy to do a lot of things because of how I act. I’ve been told how I behave or what kinds of decisions shape who I will and have become. I don’t believe them anymore, being scared simply what others think. This is a decision I made, and it’s one of the best decisions I have made. Where we are today, standing here together is what I believe is confidence, because you motivate me to be that guy who is confident. Our lives aren’t perfect but putting the past in it’s place and creating new memories to override the old ones is a once in a lifetime chance. I wouldn’t give up to make new memories with anyone else but you. I love you, R/N.”

At this point with the copious amount of crying R/N did, her makeup was running. There wasn’t a point in fixing it or trying to because the tears wouldn’t stop. Simon raised a hand to wipe her tears and try and fix R/Ns makeup with a quick wipe under her eyes, but to no avail did the makeup look a little bit better.

Already holding hands, more words were spoken about both of there vows till rings had to be exchanged. His ring was all black and custom made for Simon. You made sure it was military grade and would never bend while doing his job. Simons ring to you was so beautiful almost everyday for the last year you got compliments about its beauty. The diamond wasn’t too big but you liked how dainty it was, held in place by the bands hooks. It really wasn’t how big the diamond is it’s the reason it was picked and the thought of it being on your finger till being parted by death.

“R/N, Do your take Simon Riley to be your husband?” The wedding officiant asked looking at you as you immediately shook your head yes, followed by an “I do”

“Simon, do you take R/N L/N to be your wedded wife?” His smile was so pure, one I didn’t see all too much but today was a day where I knew there truly was love pouring throught both of us.

“I do.”

ⓒzxvak47

#cod x reader #call of duty x reader #cod x you #cod fanfiction #cod #call of duty mw2 #cod mwii #cod fanfic #cod fandom #cod ghost #simon riley x reader #ghost cod #ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley

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lunariamv · 1 year

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jealous girl ♡♡♡ gojo satoru x yan fem reader; obsessive + possessive behavior, manipulation, violence, death, murder lana vibes :0

How long have you liked Gojo Satoru? Ummm... since forever, maybe?

Truth is, you've been an admirer of the handsome white haired man ever since you first spotted him back in high school. Girls would always fawn over the various good-looking guys in Jujutsu High, but your crush never wavered once.

There was something about Gojo that set your heart on fire. He was just so handsome and strong... imagine if he was yours. You'd always be by his side, and vow to make him happy for as long as you lived. If only it were true. Too many times did you fantasize about him being your boyfriend, or husband, so many instances that you started believing the two of you were made for each other.

Despite these intense feelings of yours, he barely knew you existed, to your dismay. Almost never did he glance in your direction, as sad as that is. Chances are he might know you're one of his classmates, but that's about it. For the most part, you didn't really stand out. Compared to other students, you faded into the background. Overshadowed by the outgoing, eccentric students, your shy meek personality made you a nobody. Almost all of your other classmates haven't heard of you either.

The feeling was melancholic, to be so alone. You'd be living a lie if you said it didn't bother you. Once you got home, you'd break down crying. The clarity of your loneliness, and the lack of bonds you failed to make. All you wanted was for a single person to care. To have a person finally see you. You wanted to fall in love, just like everyone else. All you desired was for someone to devote yourself to, and for them to be devoted in return.

Just when you were about to give up, you stopped yourself. The idea came to your mind. There's no need to give up. If your place in the world was off... all you had to do was change.

And so, as high school went on, you'd do your best to improve yourself. Working out to grow stronger and fit, perfecting your powers, and learning to dress nicely and applying makeup to enhance yourself. You'd work hard to become the ideal girl for him. One day, you'd get Satoru to notice you.

As you closed your compact mirror, you turned your head to the side and spotted him down the hall. Eyes softening, you whispered with a faint smile. “Wait for me… okay?”

Soon enough, it was working. You looked way better in senior year than you did in freshman year. Compliments became more frequent, and you had been called 'cute' or 'pretty' often by students who barely knew your name two years ago. Some people even thought you were a last minute transfer student at first with how sudden you appeared on everyone's radar. The outside attention was nothing to you, for there was only one person you wanted to see you.

That's when you decided it was time. The transformation had given you a surge of confidence, and you decided you'd finally approach the boy of your dreams. You had it all planned out. It'd be the perfect encounter, flawlessly orchestrated by your brilliance, and he'd fall for you as if it was love at first sight.

At least, that's what you thought would happen, but...

There's something in the way.

It was another girl in your class. She was popular and well liked by your peers. Unlike you, she had years to grow her overwhelming popularity. Compared to her, your likeness was only a droplet in her sea of fame. There she was, talking to Gojo, but it wasn't a normal sort of talk. She was getting awfully close, and you picked up on her trying to flirt with him. It was sickening.

"Seems like Ani is going for Satoru~"

"She told me they're totally going to go out!"

What?

There was a faint sound. A shatter of glass, like something inside you was breaking. You were petrified. A dull ringing echoed in your ears. Terror struck you down to your core, and your body froze in place like an ice sculpture as you stared forward. Breath and vision shaky, you tried to assess your crumbling reality. There's no way... you worked so hard just for him to get whisked away by someone else? The two of you were meant to be, so this was impossible. This isn't right... this can't be right. This can’t be…

Who does this girl think she is? Intruding on your plans? Does she seriously think she can waltz in and steal him away from you?! It isn't fair.

With narrow eyes and a displeased frown, your face twisted into a cruel scowl. Your nails were digging into your skin with how tightly your fists were clenched. Any firmer, and they’d bleed. A burgeoning jealousy was festering inside of you. A burning rage that would soon heighten into a towering inferno. You were a ticking time bomb, and if you went off, the consequences could be catastrophic. This has to stop. If fate wanted to continue to hinder you, you'd defy it. Satoru will be yours.

A quiet, tired sigh escaped your glossy lips. A stray lock of hair got in your face, but you gently brushed it away with the back of your wrist.

On your knees, you were currently sitting on your legs, resting on the ground. Set before you was a pile of human remains. The gory disarray made a mess of your bathroom floor, and extended to you. Even after removing your bloody dress, the crimson splatters persisted, as your skin and white undergarments were stained with red. The pungent smell of rotting flesh must be awful. Thankfully the mask you were wearing blocked it out. There probably wasn't an essential oil or fancy perfume strong enough to counter it, sadly. Still, you'd do your best. This was for true love, after all.

By the time you were finished, the body was carefully disposed of. Surveying the room, there was not a single trace left. As for your alibi and hers, it was tied up neatly. Since the two of you weren't friends, much less acquaintances, there was little to no connection between you both. And as far as everyone knew, Ani went on a vacation, one that she'd be on for a long time.

Unfortunately, you had to wait a while after graduation to get rid of her, but now that she wasn't in your way, you could finally see him.

"Oh, Satoru..." You crooned softly as you held your cheek. A warm feeling was growing in your chest. Lowering your lids, a borderline euphoric expression usurped your features. Just thinking about him gave you a surge of pure ecstasy. He was as good as yours. Blithely grinning to yourself, you could already picture yourself trapped in his embrace and drowning in his love. You couldn't wait to finally make your dreams come true.

The white haired man was just hanging up the phone. His friend went out on a trip a few weeks ago, but he figured she would've called at least once. They weren't that close, but he couldn't help but think about it. He lowered the device, shoving it into his pocket.

Suddenly, he felt someone bump into him.

"Ah...! I'm terribly sorry..." You apologized sheepishly. Once you glanced up and met his eyes, you froze in surprise. He was just as shocked, if not more that such a beautiful woman ran into him. From your silky hair, pretty face, and adorable coquette style of clothing, he couldn't help but stare. His captivation didn't go unnoticed by you either. Being able to take him back with your appearance gave you a pleasant rush.

"Gojo Satoru!" You beamed happily upon recognizing him. "It's nice to see you."

His charming smile returned as he studied you. "Oh hey! (L/N) (Y/N)... right?" No way... he remembered you! Hearing him say your name made your heart flutter. It felt like a few years were added to your lifespan. "Likewise."

"I see you've become a sorcerer for the school as well..." You observed. Faintly blushing, you returned his smile with a dulcet one as you held your chin. After all, the two of you were standing a few miles away from the building. If that wasn't a giveaway. "Though, I'm not surprised... you've always been incredibly powerful...!"

He chuckled at your praise. "Aww (L/N), you flatter me~!" Faking embarrassment, he dismissively waved a hand at you. The two of you shared a laugh.

"Oh...! Now that I have you, are you busy?" You decided to finally ask him. "I'd love to talk with you over tea."

Gojo paused in thought for a moment before answering. His eyes gleamed through the blue tinted lens of his glasses. It was a tempting offer. "Ah, well... I have a busy schedule... but I think I can make some time for you, Ms. (L/N)." He joked.

Once you heard him agree, you beamed at your small victory. This couldn't have been more perfect. After that, you offered to take him to the closest café. However, as you were about to start walking, you tripped again on your heels.

"Eep...!" With a squeak, you lost your balance and grabbed onto his arm to steady yourself. Snaking your arms around his arm, you held him securely close to your chest. Your frame was pressed into his side.

As soon as you realized your intimate position, you looked up at him, face flushed with embarrassment. "S-Sorry!" Careful not to trip over your words, you began to explain. "I fought a curse on the way here. I'll be okay, but it cursed me to lose my balance ever so often..."

Total lie. You've mastered the art of acting scatterbrained just for this moment.

Shyly, you went to release him, but Gojo drew closer to you. "Oh, is that so...? Then... until that awful curse is gone, feel free to hang on for as long as you need." He insisted with a hum.

A faint blush of apprehension spread across your face. "E-Eh? Would your girlfriend be okay with that?" You asked with worry.

"I don't think she'll mind," He lowered himself, his face dangerously close to yours. His voice dropped to a whisper. "Considering... she doesn't even exist."

A pleasant shiver ran down your spine as your fond smile returned. She will though, in due time. You thought merrily to yourself.

Throughout the entire walk, you were ecstatic. In arm and arm like this, the two of you already looked like a couple. Gojo was as good as yours.

The two of you were having a delightful conversation. Most of it was just catching up and talking about school. After graduating, you both became alumni that worked for the school, but the two of you never had a chance to formally meet since work started.

Gojo studied your enchanting features. For some reason, he couldn't seem to take his eyes off you. From your appearance to your attire, you were breathtaking. To think he completely passed by you in high school. How did you manage to slip under his radar?

"I still can't believe we never talked." He voiced his thoughts aloud.

After hearing that, you paused in thought. "Oh, it's because I used to be really quiet." You confessed with a small smile. "It wasn't until the final year that I decided to reinvent myself to stand out."

"I see..." He hummed as his glance heavily studied your figure. You definitely did a good job at that. He couldn’t stop staring.

A warm smile appeared on your complexion when you met his eyes. "But, now we can make up for lost time, perhaps?"

Your offer intrigued him. Besides, how could he possibly turn down a goddess in human form? "I'd like that." He agreed with a fond grin, and your heart skipped a beat.

Suddenly, Gojo's phone on the table went off. You could've sworn you recognized the name on it, but it belonged to a person who was no longer a part of this world. For a split second, your eyes went dark.

He went to check it, but before he could, you placed a hand atop his. The gesture was quick, but gentle to the touch. His eyes instantly fell on you, and your lips parted.

"T-The truth is... I've had feelings for you since school began." You couldn't help but confess.

Face burning from shyness, you avoided his gaze. "I know that's rather abrupt to say, and forgive me for being presumptuous, but..." You lifted your head.

"Now that you're here with me... I can't help myself." You frowned, your eyes gleaming with desperate longing.

"You're just so... perfect..." You whispered breathlessly. Upon saying those words, the world around you seemed to slow down. Lost in the moment, you couldn't tear your gaze away from your beloved. The only man you had eyes for. Staring at him with bated breath, you were in awe of his handsome features. He's like a god. As much as you wanted to kiss him, that would probably be going too far, and this abrupt confession was already treading the line.

There was a moment of silence, and your eyes softened. Callous reality began to break down your wonderous dream, and seep inside. Perhaps this was a mistake. You should've waited before confessing. It was far too sudden. Your expression turned crestfallen.

Suddenly, a hand took your lone one. Your eyes widened in shock. The gesture made your heart accelerate into overdrive. Gojo lifted up your hand, stroking the back of the palm with his thumb. His touch sent an electric pulse through your body. "Hm... how strange, I didn't think I'd get a confession on the first date." He mused.

"Though... that's not a bad thing." He insisted. Everything you’ve said so far were exactly the things he liked to hear. Resting his cheek on his palm, he leaned closer to you. His eyes traced your form. "I like a woman who knows what she wants."

I've won.

Blinking in surprise, your entire being filled with elation. A rush of ecstasy. Your heart was racing in your chest, and it felt like it was trying to escape. You were practically screaming on the inside. Still, you kept your composure as you met his gaze. "I'm glad." You smiled warmly, eyes shimmering with joy.

It felt like you were still locked in a dream. Finally, Gojo is before you, and the only person he has eyes for... is you. He's yours. He’s really yours. It's so surreal, you struggle to accept it is reality. The mere notion fills you with so much joy, words can't describe how happy you are. Just looking into his eyes gives you a rush of dopamine, and it feels like your veins will burst.

The date continued, and you spent most of it getting to know one another. Though, you know most everything about him, so it's mostly just him learning about you. You're very forthcoming about yourself, and you make sure to express how much you like him every chance you get. He seemed to enjoy how bold you were when it came to showing affection. It was as if he was the only man alive to you, and he certainly liked the attention.

It should be obvious, but there was a second date. And a third, and plenty more after that. Gojo wasn't immune to your charms, and he craved it more each time the two of you met. You earned the title of his girlfriend, and you made sure to make it known. Finally, you were getting the opportunity you so desperately yearned for, and it’s just like everything you imagined, and more. Akin to that of a siren, you triumphantly enraptured Satoru into your clutches. However, instead of killing your prey, you'd treasure him for all eternity.

Should he ever discover your immoral sin, it'd be too late. Now that you had him, you'd make sure he'd stay with you, and you were willing to do whatever it takes. Whether it be lying about taking birth control or poking holes in certain protections of his. Becoming his wife was the goal, and you'd soon get there. The wedding bells were already ringing in your head, and they sounded lovely.

this y/n x the yandere gojo from the last oneshot ???? 💍💍💍

dividers 1, 2: cafekitsune

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