Tumgik
#I've wanted to talk about not fade away for ages
anghraine · 5 months
Text
I know I've ranted about it a million times, but every time someone brings up Roman, Byzantine, and Egyptian inspirations/influences on Gondor in more mainstream Tolkien fandom spaces (not me, because I don't even talk about it off Tumblr/DW), it seems like there's always someone who gets super weird and defensive about it. I've seen so many "well actually there's no need to consider any influences outside of England, mythology for England blah blah" responses.
And it's like! Oh, you want to play the decontextualized Tolkien quotes game? How about this one:
“But this [the setting of LOTR] is not a purely 'Nordic' area in any sense. If Hobbiton and Rivendell are taken (as intended) to be at about the latitude of Oxford, then Minas Tirith, 600 miles south, is at about the latitude of Florence [in Italy]. The Mouths of Anduin and the ancient [Gondorian] city of Pelargir are at about the latitude of ancient Troy [in Turkey]. Auden has asserted that for me 'the North is a sacred direction.' That is not true. The North-west part of Europe, where I (and most of my ancestors) have lived, has my affection, as a man’s home should. I love its atmosphere, and know more of its histories and languages than I do of other parts; but it is not ‘sacred’, nor does it exhaust my affections. I have, for instance, a particular love for the Latin language, and among its descendants for Spanish ... The progress of the tale ends in what is far more like the re-establishment of an effective Holy Roman Empire with its seat in Rome than anything that would be devised by a 'Nordic.'”
Or this one:
we come [in ROTK] to the half-ruinous Byzantine City of Minas Tirith
Or:
In the south Gondor rises to a peak of power, almost reflecting Númenor, and then fades slowly to decayed Middle Age, a kind of proud, venerable, but increasingly impotent Byzantium.
Or:
The Númenóreans of Gondor were proud, peculiar, and archaic, and I think are best pictured in (say) Egyptian terms. In many ways they resembled ‘Egyptians’ - the love of, and power to construct, the gigantic and massive. And in their great interest in ancestry and in tombs. […] I think the crown of Gondor (the S. Kingdom) was very tall, like that of Egypt, but with wings attached, not set straight back but at an angle. The N. Kingdom had only a diadem (III 323). Cf. the difference between the N. and S. kingdoms of Egypt.
Or:
Thank you very much for your letter. … It came while I was away, in Gondor (sc. Venice), as a change from the North Kingdom
Middle-earth is not equivalent to England, or northern Europe in general, and Gondor especially is not northern at all!
954 notes · View notes
autistichalsin · 8 months
Text
Halsin and abandonment issues
One thing I've come to conclude about Halsin's character, based on many parts of his story and some lines he says, is that he might have abandonment issues.
To begin with: he lost his entire family over the years to accidents and disease, per his writer. That's the kind of thing that leaves deep scars- watching everyone you love fade away over years, until at a "comparatively young age" you're the last of your family and turned over to the Druids to be taken care of. (His writer didn't specify an age, but if he was young enough to be "turned over to the Druids" instead of "finding his way there" then it is likely he was not an adult.) There's no time to lose your family that isn't absolutely horrible, but as a young person is far, far worse.
Then there's Halsin's other traumas, all of which involve isolation; he was a prisoner for three years in the Underdark, and despite this, no one thought to come looking for him to save him. He lost most of his fellow Druids in the battle against Ketheric Thorm and the Shadow Curse that followed- and what few didn't die, he still lost their friendship to his leadership position, the "weight of responsibility". His one lasting friend in all of this, Thaniel, was lost to the curse and Halsin spent over 100 years blaming himself, fighting to be the best leader he could at the Grove, and having no one at all he could lean on for any of his burdens. And then he wound up kidnapped again, this time by the goblins, and when he returns, almost all his Druids have been turned against him, some even holding him in contempt. All experiences that are isolating in nature and reinforce to him that he can't rely on anyone else, that he is the only person he can depend on, and that in the end, everyone he cares for is going to leave or die.
It's not just speculation that he feels that way, either. He has several lines about his survivor guilt and isolation:
"[...] there is a burden to being the survivor... the witness to others' tragedies. It only grows heavier with time."
"[...] Grim as it is now, it was worse on the day of the battle. A vivid wound upon my memory. I was lucky - I lived, when so many did not. It would take me a day and a night to recite the names of all the friends I lost."
And lines that indicate he's used to being left, too.
If the player rejects him after he wildshapes (emphasis mine):
"Ah, I see. Well, of course. Back to camp then."
Saying "of course" implies it's not entirely unexpected.
After the final battle, if the player declines to have a celebration and says the party should split up:
"It was always destined to be so, if we prevailed. But the foreknowledge makes it no less bittersweet..."
He was expecting the party not to stick together.
Similarly, if a love-interest player breaks up with him in the ending:
"I see... After all my years of living, I know all too well that nothing lasts forever. Yet a parting can sting, nonetheless. But that just means what we shared was precious, and will live on in my memory. Thank you - I am a richer man for having met you."
The "nothing lasts forever" really sells it, to me, especially because the context makes it clear that he isn't just making a general statement- he's talking about relationships and people. Again- he was expecting it all to end.
His worry in the epilogue, when a solo-romanced player comes to the party with him, hints at this even more: "You could have done anything, gone with anyone... yet you chose me."
He's surprised that the player, even if they're in love, would want to live with him and share his dream. He can't believe they really wanted that- he even says that he keeps expecting to "stir from the dream".
I feel like that shows a lot about how Halsin feels after all the loss he's endured- he doesn't ultimately believe anyone is going to stay with him, whether because they choose to leave him, or because they'll die.
517 notes · View notes
catoslvt · 5 months
Text
Newt (TMR) x Reader
Tumblr media
you confess to Newt as he's a crank.
this is probably gonna be very quick.
As Newt jumps on me, sending me spiralling backwards into the floor, I look over at Thomas, who is standing clueless
"Go get the cure! I can handle him!" I scream, Thomas gives me a concerned look before running off anyway.
My attention is suddenly grabbed again by Newt, who now has a knife. Where did he get it from? I've got no clue, but all that matters is getting it out of his hands.
"I don't want to hurt you." Newt snaps, his tone certainly sounding like someone who wants to hurt me.
"You don't need to, please." I beg, but his eyes have faded over again, and he lowers the knife to hover above where my heart is, but I quickly knock the knife from his grip, and it moves far away on the concrete meaning I'm now gonna need to fight Newt with my hands.
"Keep talking!" Newt screams, his eyes flashing only a slight bit of normality before the flare comes back over him, and he's trying to hit me, so I do what he told me to do, talk.
"I've been in love with you since the scorch trials." I say as my hand connects with his jaw, and he stumbles off me, allowing me to stand up, and as I look at Newt, I realise he landed beside the knife.
"What?" He chokes, and I nod tears at the brims of my eyes.
"When Aris led me to your rooms from the vents, I was terrified to meet you, but somehow, I managed to persuade you to leave WICKED and I fell inlove with you almost straight away, I've never looked back. I've never wanted any other boy the way I want you." I continue to talk as a few tears fall from my eyes, and Newt now stands up with the knife, his step staggering as he approaches me, but I suddenly see Thomas, Frypan, Minho and Gallys shadows about to turn round our corner, so I take a few footsteps towards Newt as he stands and stares, either fighting the flare really well or it's about to take over for good.
as I step closer, Newt opens his arms for a hug, and I can't help but do it, crank or not. I just confessed my love for him.
as he wraps my arms around my waist, I momentarily forget he has the knife until it gets plunged into my lower stomach before pulling out, and I step away with my mouth hanging open, clutching the knives enterance wound as blood pours from it.
"y/n!" I hear frypan scream, but it's too late, I've passed out.
I wake up in a small hut with a curtain as a door confused, where the fuck am I?
I quickly go to sit up, but I let out a huge groan as a pain shoots from my lower stomach, so I decide to take it slower and once I'm sitting up, I kick my legs off the bed and stand up, grabbing onto the wall for support before I slowly make my way out the room.
Okay, where the actual fuck am I.
there's tons of people here, mainly people my age or younger who are all walking around, there's huts, there's hammocks and there's even Gardens.
Gardens. Newt.
Newt.
the thought of his name brings a huge pain towards my stomach, and I groan and almost double over, but Aris sees me and rushes over.
"You're up!?" He exclaims and I nod confused.
"Where are we?" I ask, my throat suddenly feeling incredibly dry as though those three words took away all my willpower.
"The safe haven, a real one this time." He answers, gently grabbing my wrist as he begins to steer me to what seems like a kitchen, and when we walk in, frypan is cooking up dishes.
"Morning shuckface." He says with a small smile as he raises his eyes momentarily to fall onto me.
"How long have I been out for?" I ask and both Aris and Frypan shrug.
"A week or so? Newt got banned from your hut because he was constantly in there speaking to you, Vince thought he was gonna wake you up." Frypan answers, and my eyes almost bulge out my head
"Newt?" I gasp, and they both nod, confused.
"After you passed out, Thomas managed to give him the cure. It worked quite quickly, except there's still dark veins in places." Aris tells me before pointing over at Frypan.
"Can y/n get some water and a sandwich or something?" Aris asks, and Frypan nods, turning around and rummaging around in his make shift kitchen.
I sit alone at the edge of the beach, eating my sandwich and ever so often taking a few sips of water.
"How was the sleep?" The all too familiar voice of Newt asks with a slight laugh as he sits down beside me, but I don't turn to look at him, because the last time I saw him I confessed to him only to get a knife plunged into my stomach.
"Fine." I respond and listen, I'm not too pissed about the knife thing, I'm just scared in case he can remember what I told him.
"Nobody ever told me that turning into a Crank means getting memories back." He sighs, and I turn to look at him, Frypan was right, there is still some dark veins, but it's better than what he looked like as a crank.
"All of them?" I ask, and he nods.
"I remembered Sonya from your maze is my little sister, only her name was Elizabeth back then." He first of all starts, and I gasp slightly.
"I remember every shank from my Glade before we got sent up." He begins listing little things that must mean a lot to remember.
"I remember you." He then states, and I gasp a bit.
"we would've been held separately. How can you remember me?" I ask.
"Minho, Alby, Thomas, Teresa, and I used to all sneak into a maintenance closet somewhere in the WICKED building. One day, we walked in, and there you were, as innocent as ever eating a chocolate bar." Newt tells me and we both laugh slightly.
"From that day forward, you joined us every night in the closet, and I knew from the very first moment I saw you that I'd do whatever I could to protect you." He goes onto say before frowning.
"But I couldn't. You told me you loved me, and i stabbed you." He mutters, and my eyes widen.
for fuck sake did he need to keep those memories?
"we don't need to talk about that Newt, you got the cure, and you're fine, and my stomach is healing. It wasn't your fault." I say as I reach one of my hands over and grab his hand with mine giving it a small squeeze which he returns.
"I tried so hard to fight the flare, even momentarily to tell you that I love you too, tell you that from that closet I knew it was always gonna be you." He tells me, and I look into his eyes, really confused, what did he just say.
he loves me too?
he's joking.
he has to be.
maybe he still has the flare.
"What?" I finally ask, and he nods.
"I love you y/n, I always have." He states, and I smile widely.
"I love you too!" I exclaim, and he kisses me, being gentle with the movements to not hurt my stomach.
213 notes · View notes
selfloverrrrrr · 4 months
Note
Stalker gojo pls 🙏🏼
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Stalker ~
Tumblr media
Warnings : smut , heavy smut, unprotected sex, Noncon, Kidnapping, physically and emotional abuse, biting, size difference, Yandere Gojo, stalking, protective, jealous, obsessive, manipulative....
Tumblr media
( All characters are aged up/18+)
Masterlist
Minors Do Not Interact
Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report
Tumblr media
I work in a cafe. I live alone in my apartment. My apartment was in an empty area. That's because that's the only appartment I got in my range. I don't have too much money to afford a good apartment .
Gojo Satoru was famous person in Tokyo. Everyone knows him. But nobody knows what he does. Is a good person or a bad person? Nobody knows. But everyone knows that he's a dengerous person. I also know his name. But never seen him. So how can I know he's stalking me...?
All of this started from the cafe. I was working. Suddenly the bell rang. I looked at the door. A tall handsome man entered. His eyes were blue, white hair. He was wearing a sunglass. His outfit was black. He came in and took a sit.
I went to his table and bow down."what would you like to have sir..?" I asked. "Nothing much... just a latte please " he replied with a charming smile. "Ok sir " I said and took his order. "And what's your name?" I asked. "Hmm?" He raised his eyebrows. "Your name....to write on the cup" I said. "Ohh... yeah.... it's Gojo Satoru " he replied. A beat skipped my heart as head his name. "Ok" I said and quickly went out of there.
I went in the maid counter. My hands were shaking. Did I just met and talked with Tokyo's most famous man?! Fuck I've heard that guy is scary... I shouldn't get too close to him. I thought. Then I bring him his order. "Here's your order sir" I said. "Oh... thanks" he replied with a smile.
That was the first time I saw him. Since then he was almost a regular coustomer. He came in the cafe almost two or three times in a week. He knew my name now. But I don't even try to get too close. I just do my work. Cause I don't want to get in any kind of trouble.
After few days... It was a normal day. Gojo came in cafe again. And he never ordered anything else... just latte. That was he's regular. So I don't even have to ask him his order. I bring him his order then went back to the counter. After finishing his latte he he went to pay the bill. "Here's the money" he said and handed me. " Thank you sir... please do come again" I said. "Umm...y/n... can I talk to you please?" He asked. "Sure" I replied. "I think you're really cute... can I have your number?" He asked with a smile. My heart skipped a beat. " I-i.... actually sir... I'm not interested... I'm s-sorry " I replied with shaking voice. His smile faded away. "Do you have any boyfriend?" He asked in serious tone. "N-No... it's not about having boy-" I was saying "do you like someone?" He cut me off with again his serious tone. "N-No " I replied. Suddenly his smile came back on his face. "It's okey...see you soon.... bye " he said. 'fuck I almost thought that he's gonna kill me' I thought. "B-bye sir"I replied.
Gojo's POV
I was walking on the road. I saw a cafe. I've never went to the cafe. I don't know what came in my mind I went in the cafe. I went to a empty table. A maid came to me. When I looked at her....GODDDDD!!!! IS SHE A FUCKING ANGEL?! She asked my name. She looked scared when she heard my name. I smirked at myself. Is she scared of me like those other peoples...? Well you don't have to be scared darling. I like you. I have fallen in love with you.... and when I tell myself something as mine... I make that mine...In. Any. Cost.
I have a great obsession with her. But never let anyone know that. Not anyone. I always stalk her everywhere.
I went to my room. I grabbed the door knob and opened it. I opened the door and went inside. I smirked at the view infront of me. That room's wall was full with y/n's pictures. Her pictures that I took every time I stalked her. I love her and I want her. I looked at the table in that room. I went to the laptop and opened it. I started playing all the footage of those cameras I set all over y/n's house. She's in her bathroom. I've seen her body so many times before. But God! I never get tired. "soon gonna feel that body, darling" I whispered.
A few days later. I went to the cafe again. Today I asked her for her number. But she rejected?! I asked her if she had a boyfriend or if likes someone. I know she doesn't but still I asked. She said no. I smiled. 'so she wants the hard way,huh?.... Fine!' I told myself and leave the cafe.
Y/n's POV
I just closed the cafe. It was dark at night and there was no one around to be seen. I was walking quietly when suddenly someone spoke. "I think its not good for a beautiful girl like you walk all alone at this hour. would you like me to take you home?" The voice said. When I looked beside me. It was Gojo.
He Smiled creepily at me as I notice a shadow of a knife on his hip. "Im a very gentleman person... you know and you don't need to be scared of me. Im just trying to help you get home." He said. My heart was pounding. I know he's a dengerous man... and I really don't want any trouble. "T-T-Thank you.....but I don't n-need your help" I said as I tried to walk first.
He starts to approach me. "So you rather choose walking alone than come with me? Dont you think you will be a easy target for someone to attack?" He said. I looked at the knife in his pocket. "Oh the knife..? Are you scared of that???" He said as he pulled out the knife from his pocket and threw it on the road. " I don't need any knife to have you " he said. And I looked at him confusedly. He suddenly put a cloth on my mouth and dragged me in his car.
When my eyes open again I was in my bedroom. But there wasn't any clothes on me. I started panicking. I looked beside me then I saw Gojo infront of me. He was taking off his clothes. I was about to get off the bed when Gojo grabbed my hand and pulled me harshly towards him. My back was on the bed and he climbed on top of me. " Where do you think you are going....huh??? " He said with a smirk. his hand slowly reaching up from my inner thigh. " Why don't you just relax darling..." he said and his hand reached my core. He pushed his middle and ring finger inside and started thursting in and out. "G-gojo stop" I moaned loudly. "Oh... You liked that?" He smirked at me.
He started thursting his finger in and out harshly. Looking at me and smiling like a psycho which make me froze in fear. "You like getting fucked by me right???? That's why you are squeezing my fingers like that!" He whispered in my ear. "S-stop....p-please.." I begged. He looked at me again. He paused his fingers. "Why did you rejected me huh? Do you know how much I love you? I stalked you everywhere you go.... I've cameras all over your house...I loveed you these much and you rejected me???...If I got you pragnent then you can't resist me right???!!!!" He said in a low voice.
"N-no.... n-no.... I don't want that... please" I begged him. He didn't even listen to me. I tried to push his chest but nothing. Gojo started licking on my nipple. He was being a tease. I moaned. He continued his teasing licking and sucking on my nipple. With his one hand he grabbed my other boob and squeezed it roughly. I scremed so loudly.
I tried to get off from the bed but he grabbed my leg and pulled me again in that place. He grabbed his dick stroked it two or three times then line it with my entrence. I began to panic. "Gojo Gojo .... please no .... G-gojo please no... Don't do this again please!!!" I begged him and tears started falling from my eyes but he didn't listen. "Call me Satoru.... You should call me by the first name, baby" he said kissing my cheeks.
Gojo pushed his whole length in one slide and I scremed with pain. He didn't even give me time to adjust his size and started thursting in and out roughly. I was screming loudly. His huge dick was giving me too much pain. He started giving me hickeys on my neck and chest. His thursting getting faster and harder. "This .... This is mine.... I wouldn't.... I wouldn't let anyone take it from me!!!!" He said between moans. My whole body was shaking. He was moaning too. The way his dick was touching my g-spot make my back arch. It didn't take much time and I came. As I came that smirk again played on his lips.
He was still thursting roughly. I felt his cock pulsing inside me. I tried to push him away with all of my strength." Ughh...no no no no...ahhhhhh...no please no....ahhhhhh..... n-not ahhhh.....not inside... please" I begged him. He grabbed my throat and chocked me down to the bed. Within a minute he came inside me I could feel his seed inside me. He pulled out and whispered in my ear with a smirk "I'm sure.... you'll be carrying my child". He whispered and fall beside me taking deep breaths.
" You are mine and just fucking mine. Don't ever dare to think of anyone else for a moment. Or else you know damn well what I'm gonna do." He whispered in my ear.
Tumblr media
Give me your requests guys....
I love when you give me your requests 💕
Tumblr media
276 notes · View notes
hyuuukais · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
-`♡´ - APARTMENT 143
pairing -> lee minho x fem reader
synopsis -> after a bad breakup, y/n needs to find a new place to live. although she's grateful for her best friend, up-and-coming model hwang hyunjin, for letting her stay at his, she can't keep living with him and his model roommates. so when an opening for somewhere nearby with cheap rent opens up, she jumps on it, despite knowing next to nothing about the 3 other tenants, only that one owns 3 cats. the three quickly learn of her breakup, determined to help get her back on her feet. but what happens when one of them begins to develop feelings?
warnings -> gen, y/n talks abt being compared to her sister, family tension, food/eating mention, lowkey survivors guilt going on
MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT
CHAPTER FIFTEEN -> LIKE IT USED TO BE (partially written, wc: 898)
"Oh good, you're not dead yet," Han speaks a bit loudly into the phone and you move it away from your face slightly.
The bright screen has your eyes straining in the otherwise dark room, tucked under a plush comforter from your childhood. It's amazing it's still in good condition considering how old it is, but your bed squeaks under you to remind you of the age of this room full of old memories. On the night stand next to you is a framed photo of you with your family, your mom and dad standing behind you and another little girl, slightly taller than you; your sister. You lean over and put the frame face down.
"Still alive, barely," you reply with a sigh. "Why'd you assume I'm having a bad time?"
"Let me think," he puts a finger to his bottom lip in fake concentration. "'How am I supposed to last four more days'... doesn't exactly sound like someone having a good time."
"You caught me, but I swear it's nothing." A lie. "Nothing interesting." A truth; is your family drama really worth talking about? "How's the apartment?"
"Fine. We've started to try and befriend the guy down the hall, Seungmin? Maybe you've run into him?" You shake your head. "Minho seems to get along with him the best. I think it's because they both act unwelcoming to strangers."
This makes you snort. The two of you continue to talk and laugh, the cats making an appearance at one point with Minho, who gives you a short wave, and you don't realize how late it's getting until your eyes catch the time briefly; 3:08AM. Shit. How loud have you been? You freeze when you hear a door open, muting Jisung on the other end and flipping your phone over. Your door opens.
"What are you doing up so late? Don't you know what time it is?" Your sister groans. "And you're being kind of loud, mind keeping it down a bit? Who're you even talking to?"
"No one," you say too quickly, internally cringing at yourself. "Sorry. I'm going to bed soon."
"You're lucky it was me and not mom who walked in here," she says with a sort of laugh. "She would have screamed her head off and taken your phone, despite being an adult now."
You sit up. "Yeah."
"She really fucked us up a bit, huh?" She sits next to you hesitantly when you don't reply. "Maybe we'd be closer now."
"Hyo-"
"I'm sorry," she stands suddenly. "I shouldn't be saying all this. Forget this, please." Your older sister stands in the doorway, eyes pleading. "Don't mention this to anyone, okay?"
"Okay," you whisper, knowing damn well Jisung heard every word.
As you listen to her footsteps fade, you learn to breath again, flipping your phone back over and unmuting Han. When he notices you're back, he says nothing, fiddling with the string on the hoodie he wears.
"You-"
"It's okay-" You speak at the same time and laugh, breaking the newfound tension. He continues. "It's okay if you don't want to talk about it, but I guess this is what you meant by complicated?"
You pout, eyes beginning to sting. When you speak, your voice breaks a little. "Yeah, I mean, it's hard, you know? All my life I've been compared to Hyo by my mother and teachers and even my friends. Like, I have to be her instead of myself, and she never once stepped in to protect me from all that like a big sister is supposed to. Never heard her stand up for me when it was happening right in front of her, no moment of 'hey, let my little sister be who she wants, you already have one of me'. I feel like I can't talk to her anymore. I'm rambling, sorry."
"No, it's okay," Han reassures you.
"We used to be close when we were young," you speak into the space he's left you. "Then as we got older, we drifted. We're only a few years apart, but she always acted so much better than me once we hit a certain age. She said hurtful things to me a lot, and I'm sure I said equally awful things back." A tear falls onto your blanket and you sniff, looking up to your ceiling where a poster of a boy band is pinned to prevent more from falling. "I want my sister back, but... I think there's too much pain."
"Oh Y/nnie," Han gives you a sad look. "I wish I could hug you right now."
"I'm just saying stupid stuff now, I should sleep." You've overshared and want out of this conversation ASAP. "Goodnight Han, sleep well."
He's about to protest when you hang up, moving your phone next to the frame to charge. For a while you lay there, staring at your ceiling with a heavy weight on your chest. You've never fully talked to someone about the way your upbringing made you feel or the way it still affects you. There's still a scared little girl inside of you, shying away from hands that want to hold you, comfort you. Because what if it's all a lie? What if they all leave you, like Hwa? Or like... like him?
You glance over to the frame again, not having it in you to flip it back up.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
notes -> me vs y/ns mother rn- who do we think this "him" is referring to? and what happened? will hyunjin and y/n make up?
taglist -> @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @puppyminnnie @tfshouldidohere @kangaracha @chlodavids @whitney190 @thisisnotjacinta @borahae-reads @brooklynie @gini143 @kayleigh-28 @skz-streamer @babyphotos0325 @scallywag1299 @venusmoonxnight @naomisosoup @fertiliezedtoesw @s00buwu @realrintaro @anothershorthuman @skzstaykatsy @ilovejeongin007 @btswestan @multifandomedsimp @ihrtlix @raehawthorne @euphoric-univers @hyperpixie @evermourning @satsuri3su @jazziwritesthings @minhwa @wyzminho @fic-for-readers @dreamerwasfound @imsiriuslyreal @lailac13 @palindrome969 @lixie-phoria @aalexyuuuhm @sunflowerbebe07 @st4rhwa @lukeys-giggle @jabmastersupriseee @judeduartewannabe @gaysontheprince @stepout-09-15 @splat00z
^^^ orange means i can't tag you
218 notes · View notes
astvrook · 2 months
Text
洪水 | YANDERE THEMES | NI-KI.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
"of course I've missed you, mum." you mumble, with the fluency of an actor. you'd even consider auditioning for a theatre major if you weren't so busy sorting out your new flat, instead of focusing on your college plans.
at home, your parents seem to have been struggling. growing up, you sometimes heard them talk about love and promise to be faithful to each other, but to you, love shouldn't be demonstrated through weekly fights that often lead to breakups or the threat of divorce, which puts everyone in the family's mental health at risk.
the only positive connection you had with your sister, but that complicity faded as you got older, as she fell into adolescence and became addicted to partying, clothes shopping and chatting with friends. meanwhile, you've moved to a new city to live on your own and continue your college studies in a new environment after applying for a transfer.
your main goal and dream is to maintain excellent grades, so you won't be forced by your parents to move back. and sure, you don't miss much about your old town. In fact, you had some friends there that you left behind, good friends who may now think you're selfish for not even saying goodbye to them, among them ni-ki.
nishimura riki, a year younger than you, came into your life thanks to his relationship with your younger sister, which began three years ago. with his sharp tongue and quick temper, he was a sweet boy who somehow impressed you and stood out among the others. over time, you became close to each other as you discovered that you shared common tastes, had a similar sense of humour and seemed to complement each other. and yet, you eventually had to walk away from him, not because of the implications of a stronger-than-usual relationship, but because of what that closeness stirred up inside of you.
more precisely, things changed between of you that night you went out to celebrate his coming of age and he tried to kiss you. while he quickly apologised for his thoughtless act and reiterated his interest in your sister, it was clear in his eyes and shyness that his feelings were not as clear as he had intended. you silently wondered why he didn't acknowledge his interest in you. and as much as you hated the situation, the suspicion that he might have been in love with you warmed your heart a little, although you felt pity for waiting for someone who wouldn't fight for you.
so you decided to move away to protect your emotional peace from people who could complicate your life.
determined not to fall in love just for the sake of appearances, a few weeks after moving to the new city, you ventured out. you felt it was the right time to have new experiences at your age, so you set up dates with people you met online and sometimes arranged them when you had time off from your university studies. you made it clear that you weren't looking for a relationship at the time, and although you felt like you were being watched in these situations, as if there was something wrong or someone judging you, you tried to convince yourself that it was just delusional paranoia.
"i'll call back later, need to hang up," you stated hurriedly, trying to say you were busy without wanting to sound rude, especially since the caller was your mum.
and, as you grab the doorknob to enter your apartment, you get the unpleasant feeling that it's damp. "yuck" you think, but you quickly head to the kitchen to start organising what you've just shopped for.
"maybe you will, or maybe you won't. i do. i know you well, (y/n)," says your mum. "and before I forget, just wanted to tell you that (your sister's name) wanted to talk to you this morning. she seems to need help with her birthday arrangements."
you scowl as you notice that the air-conditioner is not on and respond: "i'll take care of it, but it's got to be her who calls me, mom, she's got a mobile phone after all."
"she claimed to have called you, but there was no response to her messages," insists your mother.
"that's not possible…" you start to argue, but as you check your phone on the dresser to scroll through the notification bar, you notice your sister's missed messages and calls from a few days ago. "ouh…"
you notice that you've been carrying your phone with you less often lately, and you face reality and admit that you only carry it when you have an important date, and also when you want to get away from something or someone, and you realise this when you see ni-ki's messages.
"she's your sister, (y/n), you shouldn't ignore her. I don't know what happened between the two of you or what's going on, but you'll have to work it out. just remember that you're older and you shouldn't act like a spoilt girl."
the term "spoilt girl" was familiar to you, as your father used to call them that when they fought over a toy. It's so ironic.
"well… au revoir, mum," you said before hanging up.
although your mum was right that you should work on rebuilding your relationship with your sister, you were reluctant to do so in a short phone conversation of twenty minutes or fewer. plus, you're not yet ready to admit the real reason why you "broke" up with her: your mistake of falling in love with her boyfriend. so, for now, you prefer to wait for your guilt to subside before facing his advice, while you go to organise the products in the fridge.
about sixty minutes later, when you hear a notification on your mobile phone, your body goes into alert mode because it might be the girl you went out with yesterday, minji (she, with her black hair flowing gracefully down her back and a face that could touch the gods themselves, gave you a great time strolling along the seashore) and without wanting to admit it, your impatience overwhelms you, as if you were a schoolgirl eagerly awaiting another text message from her, or yearning for some sign that you're not so boring (again) that she doesn't want to go out on a second date with you.
by contrast, when you switch on your mobile phone and see a new message from ni-ki, feel like time has stopped, leaving you unable to move. although a wave of emotions overcomes the panic in your heart, your mind urges you to take a deep breath and count to a hundred. and the idea of staying calm is a distant option at the moment.
Tumblr media
one side of your mouth is crooked, you realise, and in your mind you criticise him, silently pleading that it's not the end. but you soon realise that you look pathetic because you can't even reply to one of his messages.
so you decide to ignore him again.
(...)
just after midnight, ni-ki entered the apartment, moving cautiously as if he was afraid of waking up his girlfriend in their shared apartment, an idea that proved true for him, at least in his mental world. he moved slowly through the environment, stopping at the end to stare at the door with relief when he realised how easy it was to get in, and felt a brief moment of triumph as he savoured the sensation, which quickly gave way to the reality of being in your space.
"finally..." ni-ki spun around, letting any trace of manners fade away, rivalled only by the sound of his slippers on the floor and by the beating of his heart.
before he enters your room, he releases the handle to lift his feet, removes his slippers and places them next to the wall in a gesture that others don't consider necessary but you appreciate as a sign of good manners. and he congratulates himself because he has eliminated from his behaviour what he knows bothers you: eating with his mouth open, using the phone while eating, talking too loudly in important situations, etc. all to please you.
sure, most people fear death, but for ni-ki, the biggest fear is not being loved. ever since he saw a picture of you on your sister's phone, he has been trying to be the perfect boy. he has adopted your favourite colour, your culinary tastes, and even your film preferences. needless to say, he studied how to behave with you, wondering if one day your eyes would fall on him or you would miraculously wake up feeling perfect and wishing he were by your side forever.
your sister may have been nice at first, which ni-ki liked. however, he started the relationship mainly to fit in with his friends and to avoid being teased for being single. you and she inherited your mother's hair colour, share the same eye colour and have a strikingly similar appearance. despite this, (your sister's name) failed to awaken ni-ki's desire to dominate her, and as the days passed, her desire to end the relationship grew.
he chooses not to wait for you to wake up to speak, instead reaching into the collar of his shirt to lift the fabric over his head, and makes room for his torso to be caressed by the coolness of the room, settling with his knees on the mattress on either side of your hips.
you almost always sleep on your stomach, giving him a free hand to climb up and kiss you on your upper back.
a faint humming sound from your mouth interrupts the silence of the night.
"shh… just go back to sleep in peace."
ni-ki notices your limbs relaxing and your lips quivering, and stops abruptly. he places his hand on the side of your face, asking for support and confessing, "when i heard you left, i almost lost my mind, can you imagine? can you imagine? without you, i'm nothing."
his throat is dry and muscles are tense, as he brace for what's to come…. something bad. although ni-ki had promised to give you time to fall in love with him, promises often remain unfulfilled. and tonight, that promise will cost you dearly.
"how naïve, noona. always so selfish to bring everything of yours and not come back." ni-ki continues to speak, barely able to moving his body away from yours, his nose buried in your hair and feeling dizzy from the fragrance. "but forgetting the most important thing: of me."
Tumblr media
LISTA MAESTRA DE ENHYPEN
111 notes · View notes
mingi-s-dimples · 1 month
Note
weird request..? ( kinda ) it’s me lis😚 i love your work bia and i really REALLY want a demon hongjoong fic 🪦 maybe add some praising and choking kink as well…🤭🤭 i recently saw a picture of him that added to the “joong demon agenda” AND OH BOY 🫠🫠 love you 😚❤️
Crimson Nights - Hongjoong
Tumblr media
REQUEST BY: @mingleshine (or how y'all might know her, my lovely Lis) she also made the banner 😋���� had to use it for my love.
pairing: demon/incubus!hongjoong x fem!reader
rating: 18+
genre: romance, demon x human, love not necessarily filth (but a little bit cause I love writing filth hihi)
summary: the sillhouette you've always been dreaming and painting about finally finds it's way in your room, giving you what you've been longing for.
WC: 3.5k
warnings: demon au, incubus!hongjoong x human fem!reader, choking kink, neck marking, marking, a sprinkle of praise, pet names (sweetie, darling, princess), ramming (if this is even a warning), hard deep and needy longing love (joong appeared in reader's dreams for years), choking, huge dick!hongjoong, slight belly bulging (he was a big guy hihi), eyes glistering with lust and changing as soon as they're finished, sharp nails (said marking + hickeys), biting, a little bit of cnc maybe from his perspective reader was all down for it, possesiveness, claiming reader (you/re mine/I already claimed you), completely consesual, unprotected (WRAP UP IRL!), slapping/spanking, orgasms (both m&f), fluff (if you squint but I promise there is fluff cause wdym Hongjoong has waited years for reader to be ready to invite him in her world and how he talks to her at the end ansadka I'm blushing), probably forgot something !
Author's Note: I loved writing this one. The description in the beginning made me absolutely looooooooooooooooooove writing this fic, I've always loved to describe nice, vintage/retro like things/rooms. Tysm love for the request andddd can't wait for another one from you hihi <3 love you always, enjoy this one ^^ also I love when u call me bia it makes something in me go insane nshdajkndsma
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction & does not represent in any way the reality of the member.
Tumblr media
The room was a sanctuary of warmth and color, tucked away in an old manor where the whispers of time lingered in the wooden beams. As you stepped inside, the scent of aged wood and crackling fire filled the air, mingling with the faint aroma of dried leaves that had drifted in through the slightly open window. The walls were adorned with paintings of every size, each one a vivid portrayal of autumn’s embrace. Rich hues of amber, gold, and crimson spilled from the canvases, capturing scenes of forests bathed in the gentle light of a setting sun, of fields where goldenrod swayed in the cool breeze, and of paths carpeted in a mosaic of fallen leaves.
The floor, covered in a thick, russet-hued rug, creaked softly underfoot, adding to the room’s rustic charm. A grand oak table sat in the center, its surface cluttered with brushes, palettes, and jars of paint that seemed to mirror the fiery shades of the season. On a nearby easel, a half-finished painting depicted a lone maple tree, its leaves a brilliant cascade of oranges and reds against the backdrop of a fading twilight sky.
Outside, the trees rustled softly in the wind, their branches bare save for a few stubborn leaves clinging to their last moments of life. The windowpanes rattled gently, as if echoing the sighs of the season, and through them, the distant cry of a flock of geese could be heard, their silhouettes barely visible against the dusky horizon. The room, bathed in the soft glow of a nearby lamp, seemed to pulse with the rhythm of autumn itself, a place where the beauty of the season was captured and eternalized within the frames on the walls.
You’ve been having some weird dreams lately. The dreams were always drenched in shadows, where reality blurred and the world seemed suspended between night and twilight. In them, you found yourself standing in a vast, moonlit field, where the air was thick with an unspoken tension. The only light came from a ghostly crescent moon, casting long, eerie shadows that danced across the landscape. It was in these shadows that you first saw him — a silhouette against the silver light, imposing, with a presence that sent a shiver down your spine and yet held your gaze captive.
He was not like any man you had ever seen. His form was humanoid but dark, almost as if he were carved from the very night itself. Yet, it was his eyes—those glowing embers hidden within the depths of shadow—that drew you in. They were the color of molten gold, burning with an intensity that made your heart race, eyes that seemed to see right through you, into the deepest corners of your soul.
Despite his demonic appearance, you felt an inexplicable pull toward him, a magnetic force that defied all logic. Each night, the dreams grew more vivid, more intense. You would find yourself standing just a breath away from him, feeling the heat of his presence and the chill of the night air against your skin. His gaze would meet yours, holding you in place, and in that moment, you felt a strange mix of fear and desire. It was as if his eyes were speaking to you, whispering promises of secrets untold, of passions that could only exist in the world of dreams.
Sometimes, you could hear his voice—a deep, resonant sound that echoed in the silence, filled with both menace and allure. He would reach out, his hand almost touching you, but the dream would always end before you had made contact, leaving you waking with a longing you couldn’t quite understand. The sensation of his gaze lingered among you, haunting your waking hours, making you yearn for the night when she would see him again.
In these dreams, you were not afraid. The darkness did not frighten you, nor did his otherworldly form. Instead, you felt drawn into the mystery, consumed by the curiosity of who he was and why you felt such a strong connection to him. Each night you slipped into the sheets, so willingly, eager to return to that shadowy place where the lines between fear and desire blurred, and where you felt more alive than you ever did in the daylight.
The air in the room was thick with anticipation, the kind that made every breath feel heavy. You stood in the center of the old, dimly lit room, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows that danced on the walls. The atmosphere was charged with an electric tension, a sensation you knew all too well from your dreams.
You had been here before—in those haunting visions that gripped you in the dead of night, where the lines between fear and desire blurred into something irresistible. But tonight was different. This time, you were awake. This time, it was real.
The temperature dropped suddenly, and a shiver ran down your spine. The shadows in the corners of the room seemed to coalesce, gathering into a single point of darkness that deepened until it was almost tangible. Your breath hitched as the air hummed with an otherworldly energy. The shadows twisted, taking form, and your heart pounded in your chest as you watched.
Slowly, he emerged from the darkness—a figure of impossible beauty and terrifying power. His skin was pale, almost luminescent against the darkness, and his eyes glowed with a deep, unnatural fire. They were the eyes that had haunted you in your sleep, eyes that saw through you, into you, but you yet had a desire to meet him. His presence filling the room, cloaked in darkness that seemed to cling to him like a living thing.
His lips curled into a knowing smile, one that sent a jolt of both fear and longing through you. It was the smile that had always made you feel like you were teetering on the edge of something dangerous, something thrilling. His voice, when he finally spoke, was a low, velvety rumble that seemed to reverberate through your very bones.
"So, we meet at last," he said, his tone laced with a dark amusement. "You've been dreaming of meeting me, haven't you?" 
You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat. It was as if the reality of his presence had stolen your voice, leaving you with nothing but the rapid beating of your heart and the heat that flushed your skin.
He stepped closer, his movements fluid, almost serpentine. Every step he took seemed to pull you in, your body betraying you as it leaned towards him, yearning for the touch you knew would burn but also ignite something within you.
"You've been calling out to me, every night," he continued, his gaze never leaving yours. "And now, here I am." 
He was close enough now that you could feel the cold radiating from him, mingling with the warmth of your own body. The scent of him was intoxicating, a mix of something dark and forbidden, like smoke and spices you couldn't name. It made your head dizzy, your thoughts tangling with desire and dread.
He reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek, and the contact sent a shockwave through you. His touch was cold, but it sparked something deep within, a fire that you had only ever felt in your dreams. It was a sensation that bordered on pain, but also pleasure—a perfect, terrifying balance.
"Why do you fear me?" he whispered, his breath ghosting over your skin. "I am what you desire most, am I not?"
You swallowed hard, finally finding your voice, though it was barely more than a whisper. "Who are you?"
His smile widened, a flash of sharp teeth that should have frightened you, but instead, it only made your heart race faster. "I am everything you've ever feared, everything you've ever wanted. I am the darkness in your soul, the fire in your blood. I am yours."
The words wrapped around you like a spell, binding you to him in a way that felt both inevitable and inescapable. You knew, deep down, that this was what you had been searching for, what your soul had been yearning for in those lonely, desperate moments between sleep and wakefulness.
“W-what’s your name?” you said, your head dizzy from what he made you feel deep inside you.
“I’m Hongjoong.. nice to meet you, princess.”
His hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you closer until there was nothing between you but a breath, a heartbeat. His eyes burned into yours, and you felt yourself falling into them, into him, as if you had always belonged there.
"You have nothing to fear," he murmured, his lips hovering over yours, close enough to feel their coolness. "We are one, you and I. And now, you will never be alone again."
As his lips finally met yours, the world around you seemed to fade, dissolving into darkness. All that remained was the heat of his kiss, the cold fire of his touch, and the knowledge that you had finally found what you had been seeking all along—him.
He stopped kissing you, a heady silence falling between, thick with the weight of what was about to happen. His hands, cold yet searing with an undeniable heat, trailed down your neck with a slow, deliberate touch, making you shiver. His eyes locked onto yours, burning with an intensity that made your knees weak. You could feel the pull, the magnetic force drawing you closer, deeper into him, and you knew there was no escape—only surrender.
With a fluid, almost predatory grace, he lowered you onto the bed. The mattress yielded under your weight, and the cool sheets sent a shiver through your body. He hovered over you, his presence overwhelming, his gaze never wavering from yours as he gently eased you down, guiding your back to the softness beneath. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in a bubble of darkness and desire.
His lips found your throat, pressing soft, lingering kisses that ignited every nerve in your body. The sensation was intoxicating, a mixture of warmth and cold that made your skin tingle with anticipation. His kisses were like whispers against your flesh, trailing down to your collarbone, each touch a promise of more to come. His sharp teeth, grasping your skin, receiving some whines out of you. 
You gasped as his hands slid under the fabric of your shirt, his fingers cool against the heated skin of your waist. His touch was slow, sensual, exploring every inch of you as if committing your body to memory. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear, sending another shiver down your spine.
“Do you feel that?” he whispered, his voice like velvet, dark and rich. “The way your body responds to mine? The way you tremble under my touch?”
His lips traced the curve of your shoulder, then continued their journey downward, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His fingers followed, brushing against your sides, your hips, as he moved lower. He was taking his time, savoring every moment, every reaction you gave him.
When his lips reached the edge of your shirt, he paused, his gaze flicking up to meet yours. There was a question in his eyes, one that didn’t need to be spoken aloud, and your answer was in the way you arched your back, pressing your body into his touch, craving more. A satisfied smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he pulled your shirt higher, exposing more of your skin to the cool air.
He kissed along your stomach, his lips lingering on every inch of bare flesh he uncovered, each kiss sending a jolt of pleasure through you. His hands were everywhere, caressing, teasing, and you couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped your lips as he continued his exploration. The sound seemed to please him, a dark glint of satisfaction in his eyes as he looked up at you from beneath his lashes.
His mouth moved lower, his kisses growing more insistent, more demanding, and you could feel the tension building within you, coiling tighter with each passing second. His touch was like a drug, addicting, overwhelming, and you were helpless to do anything but give in to the sensations he was pulling from you.
When he finally moved back up to capture your lips again, it was with a hunger that took your breath away. His kiss was deep, consuming, as if he was trying to devour every part of you, to claim you as his own. You could taste the darkness on his lips, the promise of something forbidden, something you had craved in your dreams but had never fully understood until now.
He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, his breath mingling with your own in the small space between you. “You are mine,” he whispered, the words more a declaration than a question. “Every part of you, every breath, every heartbeat. Mine.”
And as he kissed you again, slow and deep, you knew that he was right. There was no turning back, no escape. You were his, body and soul, and the thought of it sent a thrill through you that was equal parts fear and desire. As his hands continued their exploration, as his lips found every sensitive spot on your skin, you surrendered completely to the darkness, to him, knowing that you were lost and yet finally found.
Your hands found their way through his hair, rubbing the nape of his neck. He took that as a challenge and as one of his hands was travelling around your body, all touchy on your thighs and waist, the other one went for your neck, putting pressure, almost like choking you. It only made you yearn for more as you squirmed under him, his gaze never leaving your needy eyes.
“I can see it in your eyes, princess. How much you want me, how much you need me. Do you want me to let you give in or… will you let me make you mine?” he said as he pressed down on your neck, hovering his lips over your collarbones, leaving soft, sloppy kisses, waiting for your response. 
But as you didn’t say anything, only moving underneath him, in wish of some friction, he understood your movements and manhandled you on your back, pressing your face into the mattress. 
“See, darling? Your body language is everything to me. The way it speaks to me… in no way you’d be able to portray by words” he whispered, his eyes glistening with lust and desire, eating you as a whole. 
“Joong- i- “ you mumbled, trying to get ahold of yourself, his dick struggling inside the rough fabric of the leather jeans, creating a prominent tent. All of this mess caused by you and your little dreams formed a loop of stroking his cock for a few seconds before rubbing his thigh up and down, all through the tightening cloth. 
His calm, yet lustful, twisted expression gave you an understanding on how much he wanted you, how bad he craved putting you on all fours, head buried in the mattress, holding your hands and pounding into you like the demon he was. 
Trembling hands gripping the silk sheets, your bottom lip quivered involuntarily as breathless pants left your mouth, Hongjoong behind you, squeezing and occasionally slapping your ass. It was already red… at how much he fondled with it.
“So… should I.. finally claim you, princess?” he said as he turned you over to face him. He started undressing you, slowly but surely getting rid of everything. You were now laying bare in front of him, goosebumps visible on your entire body from the cold yet inviting touch he had.
He pulled you into him by your waist, making you gasp once you felt his hard erection press against your thigh. "Feel that, princess? Gonna fill you up nicely" he whispered, his breath stuttering against your face, like he was a feral animal wanting to destroy you. 
As he unbuckled his leather pants and got rid of them, unveiling his already dripping cock, you were left amazed by the size. You expected.. the size.. cause he was a demon, after all, but...
"Oh, fuck" you exhaled when he went between your thighs, his red angry tip pressing and slowly moving up and down on your folds.
"You good, darling? he grunted as he pushed himself inside you, no warning. You softly moaned at the sensation, but as you realised he put only his tip in, you braced yourself on the mattress and when he pushed himself just a little bit more, you whined and tears started forming at the corner of your eyes. As he wiped them soflty, he let you adjust to his size but you never quite completely did.
Pain and pleasure hovered over you, heavy mist in the air and breathing. He lifted you up, still bouncing slowly on his cock, holding you close to his chest. It was it you were making love to your demon.. this was exactly what was happening. Slow, lustful, desireful thrusts, moves and touches, soft kisses from your neck to your collarbones, sucking dark spots on your fair soft skin.
You suddenly moved and twitched as he bottomed down, to which he pushed you down even further, feeling how a small bulge was forming in your belly, almost visible.
"Princess, stop moving. I might actually hurt you if you move without warning" he said as he dug his sharp nails into the flesh of your waist, leaving soft bleeding marks on your skin. You whined at the pain but damn... it turned you on so bad, arousal dripping on his balls, from below you as you bounced on him more forcefully, not caring about the pain anymore, which had turned into utmost pleasure.
Hongjoong was all touchy with you, he was like this... maybe because he was longing you how much you were longing to meet him? All of these years you've seen him in your dreams... all of the paintings and stories you've made up of him, all because you wanted to meet the mysterious entity in your dream and... you were over the moon for him. How he fucked you so good, how he took you under his influence, his voice, his fangs, as he dug them suddenly in your neck, getting soft choked moans out of your rapidly rising chest.
Only sloppy sounds could be heard from between the two of you, soft and slow stuttering moves, arching your back with every thrust of his. It's true.. he was basically ramming into you, feeling like he could destroy your insides any moment. But at the same time.. there was some kind of slowness, caring to it, deeply pounding into you but making sure you slowly take every single inch of his length, while he gave you soft kisses. One of his hands found it's way to your breasts, playing with your nipple as he received a whine out of you. You were already close, your head getting dizzier, cloudy with the thought of the dirty things you've done with your... demon.
His hands all over your back, leaving scratches and his lips leaving spots on your skin. This is how fucked up you were.. but you were close to finishing, and as he rammed into you a couple of more times and felt how your core bursted, you creamed on his cock, leaving out moans and cries of arousal, tears falling down your cheeks. He fucked you through your orgasm, overstimulating you. He later came inside your aching and throbbing pussy, slowing down his thrusts and then finally comming to a stop.
"Such a good girl you are... such a good girl for me. Is that right?" he whispered.
Both of your fluids were dripping down your legs and on his thighs as he let you fall slowly on the ruined bed sheets. He could feel... even smell how your blood boiled for him, how aroused you were.
"Everything good, darling?" he said as he wiped down your tears, rubbing your trembling thighs slowly. "Mhm? Are you feeling okay?"
"Uh, yes, Joong. It was incredible... " you said and he gave you a kiss on your forehead.
"You know.. y/n. I've been longing for this moment... for years. Ever since I first appeared in your dreams... but I had to wait until you finally wanted it to happen. Now I'm here, sweetie. I'm here.. I'll stay here forever. You're mine and I'm yours.. remember?" his eyes changed colours, from a deep red that appeared when he pushed you on the bed... to a soft hazel-like colour.
"You can't escape my grip anyways. I already claimed you before inviting me in your life..." he said and hugged you thightly.
"Hongjoong... I've always wanted to meet you.. the mysterious entity haunting, appearing in my dreams. I was so eager to meet that sillhouette... you won't ever understand." you said and gave in, curling up into a ball in his grip.
"Don't worry.. I'm here and I won't ever leave, as I said" he reassured you, stroking your hair slowly and biting your neck again, marking his terittory once again for the night.
99 notes · View notes
msgexymunson · 1 year
Text
Forbidden Fruit Part 5
Description: the situation has come to a head, and you prepare to run off into the sunset with Eddie. But, will you be able to come back? 
A/N: so, this 'one shot' turned into a 5 part freakin' torrid romance! Thank you guys for the support! This is the final part, I hope you enjoy it. Remember, I live for your reblogs and comments, I need them like Tinkerbell needs claps. 
Warnings: NSFW, 18+ Minors DNI this ain't for you! Dom Eddie, Fem reader, age gap, reader 21 Eddie early 40s, fingering, p in v unprotected sex (that's how you make babies) anal (that's NOT how you make babies), eloping, spit play, like one spank, parental confrontations, angst with happy ending.
7.5k words
Masterlist Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
Is this even happening right now? 
Your breath catches in your throat as you take in the figure in front of you. He looks frantic, eyes wide and a little wild, hairs flying free from the low bun on his head. The mark your father gifted him has blossomed on his eye; it's a little swollen, glowing with a flesh flower of purple and yellow.
"How did you even get in-" 
"Oh, your Dad forgot he gave me a spare key. I saw your mom leave. I've been waiting for days, your house has been like fuckin' Alcatraz." 
You nod, fully aware of how crazy it's gotten.
"Eddie… Vegas?" You say, reaching for his face with a soft touch. Wincing, he holds your hand with his, enveloping it as he brushes his lips against your fingers sending a shiver up your spine. 
"Listen. The weekend we had, all I could think was that I wanted it to be real. Every time I heard Mr and Mrs Munson, it fucking hurt." He looks away briefly; it's like this is difficult to admit. You wait patiently, hand still in his. 
"I- I love you sweetheart." Gaze back on yours, his eyes are soft and glassy. 
"I love you too, so much. But Eddie, you still haven't said. Vegas?" Prompting again, your heart in your throat, airway constricted with feelings. You know what he's saying, but you want him to say it. You need him to say it. 
"I wanna marry you sweetheart. I want… no, I need to wake up with you every day, in my arms. If you'll have me?" Large hands find your waist, holding you in front of him as you look into his bourbon whiskey eyes. 
"Yes. I'll have you." Grinning like an idiot, you wrap your arms around his neck, the gesture so natural and right it brings tears to your eyes. The kiss you share is soft, but brief. 
"As much as I want to just hold you right now, we need to go, in case you're widowed before we even get hitched." He's chuckling, but the edge of nerves is prominent in his voice. 
"OK, gimme like five minutes." 
Never has a duffel bag been filled so fast. Clothes, underwear, shoes, toothbrush; you're not even sure what you've packed, but the bag is full, so that will have to do. Eddie grabs the bag as if it's weightless and throws it on his shoulder, ushering you out with his hand on the small of your back. 
"Wait, I need to leave a note at least, otherwise he might call the police or something."
He might anyway, he's lost it. 
You scribble down that you've gone on a trip and you'll be back, so you can all talk about this like adults. That last part is underlined. Signing your name, you both hustle out of your house and into Eddie's waiting truck. 
As he drives away, the magnitude of what you're doing truly hits you. Is this what you want? You and Eddie, Mr and Mrs Munson, until death do you part? 
You steal a glance at Eddie whilst he's driving. His strong jaw, the spackling of day old stubble, his serious concentration face he wears when he's driving. Any doubts you have melt, disintegrating into those beautiful eyes. He's the one. He's always been the one. 
********************
Sunlight is dwindling, fading over the horizon slowly as you pull into a motel car park for the night. The room is… well, it's there. A bed and a bathroom, fitted with outdated decor that would look more at home in the 70's, including the lumpy mattress. It will do for now, merely a pit stop on the road. 
Flumping down onto the ancient mattress, a dust cloud fluffing up, you stretch your arms towards Eddie, making grabby hands at him. 
He laughs, dumping your bags before dramatically falling on top of you with all his weight. 
"Eddie, I'm dying…" you croak out in a feigned weak voice, shutting your eyes and allowing your tongue to loll out of your mouth. 
The drama is short lived however, as he runs the tip of his tongue over yours. 
"Eddie!" You admonish, "I'm trying to die here, stop making it sexy!" 
"Sweetheart, I can't help what turns you on." Smirking, he lands sloppy kisses on your mouth, all wet spit and smacking noises. 
"Baby, you animal, can we eat first?" 
"I was planning to." The kisses turn sultry, lips and nips trace up to your earlobe, sucking the skin in the way he knows you love. 
"Eddie…" a warning tone, but there's an obvious lack of bite. 
"OK, food. Gotcha." He's off you then, bouncing to his feet, leaving you breathing hard and heavy on the bed. 
Eddie knows. The grin he's wearing is sinful, but for once he doesn't tease you. All he does is grab leaflets for nearby places and gets you to choose. Settling on a nearby pizza place, a gentle kiss is perched on your forehead as he leaves to get your order. 
The grime that had gathered on you for the last few days is getting to you, so you take a long shower whilst he's gone. At the very least, the showers are hot. Basking under the steaming water, you rinse the dirt away and grab a less than fluffy towel from the rack, drying off. 
You slip on the silk robe you managed to bring and sit cross legged on the bed just in time to see Eddie hustle through the door. 
Eddie makes it inside, shutting the door behind him, moving with purpose. Until he sees you, that is. He staggers back dramatically then, as if he's about to faint. 
"Sweetheart, you expect me to eat whilst you're in that robe? How can I concentrate on food with you looking hotter than sin?" 
You smirk, tying it tighter around your body, perky nipples creating peaks in the fabric. 
"Give me my pizza and then you can have what you want." 
"Oh… might have to hold you to that" He smirks, passing you the take out boxes. 
You both sit and eat, drinking a couple of beers between you. The pizza is soon demolished and you lie back in lumpy pillows, sated and content. 
"So…do I get my dessert now? Please?" 
Eddie's raking over your form with hungry eyes, mentally stripping you bare of clothes with just one heated glance. A nod and he's on you, sucking a bruise so hard in your neck you fear it might be permanent. 
As he starts to run his tongue down your throat, you push him off with a little force that shocks him completely. 
"What's wrong? You OK?" He asks as he pulls away, deeply concerned by your actions. 
"We're getting married right? I forgot, I need something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue!" 
"Really?" He chuckles, looking at your panicked eyes, "right now?" 
"Yes! I mean, it's bad luck, isn't it? What if we get there and I don't have them, or what if-" 
"Stop. Just breathe sweetheart." His soulful eyes drill into yours, finding the calm and bringing it to the surface. You take a deep breath and squeeze his hands with yours. 
"OK. I mean, I've got something old, my birthstone ring, had it for as long as I can remember." As you speak you flash your hand at him, indicating the tiny band with the small sparkling stone set in it. 
Eddie plants a kiss over the top of it, setting your insides on fire. 
"Right, one down. As for something borrowed, you can always borrow this." 
He takes a small unassuming ring off his finger. It doesn't sit well with the rest, tarnished and old looking; what looks like a mood stone is set in the centre. Wordlessly he hands it to you. 
Turning it over in your hands, you look up at him with glistening eyes. 
"It was my moms." 
"It's really pretty." 
"So was she." 
Seems that's all the information he's willing to give. You try it on a couple of fingers before you settle on your thumb. 
"Hmm, tiny hands" He laughs, rubbing your palms with his thumbs. 
"So, what about-" 
"Listen. I was gonna wait for this, but if you need this now…" 
He gets up, striding toward his abandoned leather jacket and fishes around for a moment. Then, he's back, a small black ring box in his hand. 
"I was gonna do this in Vegas but-" 
Flipping it open, you see a dainty ring inside. A beautifully cut diamond nestled in the centre, surrounded by what appears to be a ring of rubies, set in a thin white gold band. 
"Eddie, what the- when?" You ask, a lump forming in your throat, constricting it with emotion. 
"The day after my little confession. It was wild I know, I thought I might have a chance to talk to you, talk to your dad, but he lost it and I… I panicked." He shrugs, like buying some expensive engagement ring is normal behaviour. 
"Eddie…" words escape you momentarily as you stare dumbfounded at Eddie. 
"Do you like it?" 
"Do I like it? It's like you pulled it out of my brain, it's gorgeous!" 
Eddie grins massively, slipping the ring out of the box and sliding it gently onto your ring finger. Surprisingly, it fits. Turning your hand this way and that, you watch the stones glimmer in the lamp light. Words cannot express the feelings churning through you as you watch the light refract from the diamond. 
"Eddie its too much-" 
"Nope. Not having it. It's for you, if anything it's not enough. You deserve, like- a herd of ponies and a private island or something." 
You laugh loudly, sheer joy overrunning all senses as you stare at the ring.
"So, you wanna tell me what this is really about sweetheart?" 
"Huh?" You tear your eyes away from the sparkling rock and look him in the eyes. 
"Come here." He says, patting his thigh. 
You swing your legs over him, thighs sitting side saddle against his muscular jean clad legs. Immediately he grabs the back of your neck, his other hand stroking at the inside of your knee. Face forced to look at him, you can't escape the serious look in his eye. 
He continues, "what is this about? You having doubts about this, 'bout us?" 
Shock widens your eyes. 
"No! Not at all, it's just… well it's silly." 
His look softens as he begins to stroke your inner thigh. "No it isn't, not if you're worried. What is it?" 
His hands are all consuming, filling your senses with nothing but his touch. 
"It's just… I'm a student. I'm not earning any money. And after that, I've got more training so I can be a teacher. I don't want you to have to… I dunno, provide for me I suppose." Your eyes dip downwards, almost ashamed of your own deepest thoughts. 
"Hey. Look at me, my good girl." 
Your body won't let you disobey the command in his voice, no matter how soft it is. Your eyes flash up to meet his in an instant. 
"I want this. I want you, and everything that means." His hand on your leg traces higher, whispering over the soft skin and dipping unseen, but not unfelt, underneath your robe. 
"I know you're still getting your qualifications and that's fine. I've got a big house sweetheart, two cars, hell I own the mechanic shop outright. I've got more money than I know what to do with." 
His hand trails even higher, rough fingertips grazing your slit making you gasp. Running his fingers up and down your folds gently, gathering seeping wetness, he continues. 
"The only thing I'm missing- is you. I can't stop thinking about you being mine, my partner, my wife. I'll pay for your schooling if I have to, I don't care. I need you in my life." 
"Eddie… I don't know what to say. Do- do you mean it?" You ask, eyes glossing over. 
"Sweetheart, I've never been more serious in all my life." 
His middle finger breaches your entrance then, just enough for you to feel it and start clenching. It's toying with you almost, just up to the first knuckle. 
"So, you still want me, sweetheart?" 
"O-oh of course- oh fuck!" 
He plunges two thick fingers deep inside you suddenly, pulling a needy howl from you at the unexpected pressure. Plunging them in and out of your wet heat he continues to hold your neck in place, keeping you staring at him. 
"Keep looking at me. I need to see you come. Can you do that? Can you come for me sweetheart?" 
You whine in response, a shake working its way over your skin and outstretching into the air around you, the room practically humming in anticipation. 
"I asked a question…" his voice is lilting, as if amused. His fingers keep his persistent drilling into your soaked cunt, the squelching noise echoing through the trashy room. 
"Y-yes Eddie" you respond, a whisper, a shadow of a promise. 
"That's my girl." 
The relentless pounding of his digits into your sodden pussy continue, unrelenting. You wail, convulsing almost, your slick heat contracting around his fingers hard as a ring of your creamy wetness circles them. 
Pressure mounts in your abdomen, the force pressing on your belly in waves. Eyes flutter shut briefly until Eddie's grasp on the back of your neck borders pain. They snap back open. 
"Eyes on me sweetheart." 
His gaze on you is unwavering, staring straight at you and into your soul. 
"You gonna come for me my girl? My beautiful, dirty girl? You look so pretty when you come." 
His words push you over the edge, striking straight at your cunt. You fall apart on his command, the magnitude of your release shaking your limbs. You're only dimly aware of the impossibly loud squelching sound that keeps going as he works you through your orgasm. 
As the stars start finally clearing from your vision you stare back at him gormlessly. 
Eddie finally removes his fingers from your core and shows his shining hand to you. 
"Soaked me sweetheart. Pretty sure you've ruined my jeans." 
Swinging your legs away from his lap you see the full extent of your release. The dark patch on his jeans is surprisingly large, absolutely drenched with your cum. 
"Fuck, I'm sorry-" 
"Don't apologise. That's hot as hell. Now, take my pants off for me sweetheart." 
Quirking an eyebrow at his request, you still oblige, unhooking the belt and shimmying his jeans off of his taut frame. You notice, with a flash of embarrassment, that your release has even soaked through to his boxers, leaving a damp patch on one side. Removing those too and flinging them away, you gawp at his rock hard length. Every time you see it, you think it's not going to fit, even though you have literal evidence to the contrary. 
"What now, Mr Munson?" You jokingly ask, mischief lacing your words. 
"Hmmm" He hums deeply, eyes impossibly dark, "so polite. I want you to ride me a little. I want to see that sexy body of yours bouncing in my lap. Think you can do that for me sweetheart?" 
You're nodding enthusiastically before you realise, slipping your silk robe off to join his bundle of clothes. 
Straddling him, you tease him just a little, your soaking lips dragging across his hardened length. Almost expecting him to admonish you for your bating movements, you stare into his eyes. Oh, he just looks amused, lips pulled into a playful half smirk. A look you have seen before, many times, which makes you realise that you were really in for it. 
Petulantly you tug at the hem off his shirt and give him a childish pout. "Off." 
"As you wish." The grin remains as he pulls his shirt over his head and throws it into the void. 
Stunned by his body for a second, you run your fingertips over muscles, tattoos and chest hairs, feeling him tighten under your ministrations. 
Enough teasing, you need him now. 
Holding his throbbing member with one hand, you line him up and slowly sink down until you're sitting flush on his lap. A mutual groan flies out of both of your lips; the feeling of him filling you completely, unsure where one ends and the other begins, is simply otherworldly. If you could bottle it you could make a fucking fortune. 
Eddie's hands grasp you firmly by the hips, dragging you forcibly up and down his staggering length. You do your best to keep up, using your thighs and your hands on his chest as leverage, but he is relentless today. Before you realise it, your head is lolling to one side, bones in your neck a distant memory. You can't think, only feel. 
Eddie knows. 
"Aw, sweetheart, fucked dumb already huh?" He asks, mocking words dripping from his tongue like bitter sweet honey. 
"I- I can't" are the only words you can manage, his unbroken pounding into you filling your entire being. 
"Shouldn't tease me so much then," he half laughs, and sits up, climbing to his knees to flip you backwards onto the bed. His arm hooks underneath your knee to bring it close to your chest as his powerful thrusts continue. 
"Holy shit, Eddie!" You squeal, cunt clamping around him hard. 
"My sweetheart gonna come again? That's it baby," his words are soft, juxtaposed against his ruthless drives into your sodden heat. 
You clench even harder if that were possible, fingers winding into his hair and pulling hard. Eddie grunts in satisfaction at the gesture as he bites his lip. His pleasured face pushes you over the edge, falling into the deepest depths of your orgasm, moaning your release to the heavens. 
"What a fucking good girl" He groans, releasing your leg so he can grab both of your hands, holding them above your head as he pumps out his release deep inside. You feel the throb of it which gives you that extra wave of pleasure. 
Lips crash into each other, arms pulling tight, the need to be closer palpable. 
You're kissing, and kissing, until an unexpected ringing brings you both out of your post sex daze. 
Is it the phone in the room? Who knows you're here? Panic sets itself deep behind your eyes. Maybe your parents had tracked you down? 
Eddie must sense your unease as he shushes you gently, planting a soft kiss to your forehead which helps release some of your tension. 
He gets up, pads naked over to the phone and picks it up as you tug the bedsheet around you. 
"Hello?" 
You hear the scratchy sound of a shitty phone line, no real words, just noise. Eddie starts smirking bizarrely, twisting the cord with one finger. 
"Of course. We'll keep it down. Sorry." 
Replacing the receiver with a click his grin spreads further as he looks at you. 
"Reception said they had two noise complaints, and asked us to be a little quieter." 
"Oh my God." Your cheeks flush with heat as you pull the blanket higher up to hide, only your eyes and the top of your head visible. 
"Don't be embarrassed." He says, laughing. 
"Easy for you to say, you're proud of yourself!" 
He pulls the cover down to get at your mouth, kissing you softly, and breathes the words on your cheek. 
"Yeah, maybe a little." 
Giggling, you slap his arm and he pulls you in for a squeeze of a hug, strong arms pinning yours to the side. 
"Hey, I've got a young, hot fiancée, I'm allowed to be a little cocky." 
********************
The first thing you noticed about Vegas was the noise. It was early afternoon but the place was a bustling hive of activity; loud chatting groups of excited tourists mingled with the cries of people pushing pamphlets and coupons into their hands. The dings and crashes and tinny music blaring from casinos, along with the honks of car horns and engines, and the weird and wonderful racket of street performers all blended into an overwhelming cacophony which filled your brain like some sort of drug. You could understand how people could get lost in the pull of it; hours, days passing in a place that never sleeps. 
The hotel you were staying in was at least better than the motel, but it was still a little… odd. Only dumping bags and running you had little time to take in your surroundings, but what you did see made you laugh. There was an actual stuffed tiger in the lobby, along with several pieces of erotic art. The weirdness didn't stop there; the massive mirror over the circular bed in your room piqued your interest, as well as the sparkly wallpaper and fake zebra skins on the floor. Not that any of it mattered. You and Eddie were getting married, and that was at the forefront of your mind the whole time. 
Mr and Mrs Munson. Mr and Mrs Munson. 
Stupid things were making you panic. You needed to practise your new signature. You would have to change your passport. Why your brain was focusing on the craziest things, you had no idea. Chalking it up to pre wedding jitters, you walk arm in arm with your future husband, eyes seeking out the next goal: a wedding dress. 
A glitzy store with full glass frontage and brass fixtures caught your eye, and you stopped to look at the dresses in the window. It wasn't a bridal boutique by any means, but the gowns in the window were more tasteful than any you had walked past in the hour or so you'd been searching. 
"This, this is the place." You halt in front of the shop, squeezing Eddie's hand. 
"OK, let's go." 
"No." You say forcefully, placing your palm on his chest. He looks at you confused, and a little hurt, but doesn't say a word. 
"You can't see it, it's bad luck!" You explain as his features give way to a smile. 
"Fine, you win. I'll find a Chapel. Anything I should know before I do?" He asks, cocking his head with the question.
"Yes. Please, no fat Elvis impersonators. I wouldn't be able to keep a straight face." 
"You sure? Don't wanna be married by The King?" 
Your scrunched up face makes Eddie laugh, throwing his head back. "OK, I get that. I'll find somewhere… tasteful. Well, I'll try to." He smirks, placing a card in your hands. 
"What's this?" 
"My credit card. Go nuts sweetheart." 
A lump firms in your throat at the level of trust. Despite that, it just doesn't feel right. 
"Eddie, I can't accept this." 
"You don't have a choice. Just take it, I'll feel better knowing you ain't counting pennies. Honestly, it's cool. This way you can get what you want." 
Shoulders slumping in defeat, you give in, accepting the card and slipping it into your pocket.
"Now, wait for me here. I don't wanna lose you." 
He plants a kiss on your forehead and walks off. 
Inside the shop, you know Eddie giving you his credit card was the right choice. It even smells expensive. The woman waiting for customers greets you with an enormous smile, and you explain what you are looking for. After a little search and a try on, you leave the shop with your dress, new shoes, and even a small veil from another place the store sent out for. You were ready. 
Eddie finds you twenty minutes later, with a love sick grin on his face. 
"I found somewhere, I think you'll like it. So, you find what you need?" 
"Yeah, I'm good" You smile back, handing him his card. 
"You can keep hold of it sweetheart."
"Nooooo" you say with feeling, forcing it into his hand, "that's just fucking dangerous." 
He laughs and takes your hand in his, ushering you into a waiting taxi. 
The cab pulls up to an unassuming building, pastel pink stucco covering the outside, along with a tiny steeple and fake bell. Taking a deep breath, you walk in, Eddie's hand firmly in the small of your back to guide you. At this point, you'd let him guide you anywhere. 
They know you are coming, the smiling ladies at the desk, and one of them leaps up in a cloud of perfume and blonde hair, leading you away immediately. 
"Heard all about you, so lovely to meet you! We've got somewhere for you to change, just come with me!" 
She introduces herself as Brenda, and leads you to a tiny back room with a full length mirror and a clothes rail and insists on helping you with your dress. She's talking a mile a minute, helping you to calm your nerves. 
"Oh he is handsome isn't he! And you are just lovely, I can see why he likes you. And the way he looks at you! Oh it's just so lovely. Let me help you with the zip honey. Oh, aren't you just a vision! Do a twirl, that's it, just perfect! You ready?" 
Am I ready? 
You stare at your reflection; the last time you'll look at yourself single. Butterflies dance in your belly, but searching your feelings you know it's excitement and not nerves. You want this; you can feel deep in your soul that this is the right decision. Staring down at your engagement ring, your birthstone ring, and his mother's ring on your thumb on the other hand, you smile.
"I'm ready." 
With a final spritz of perfume at your retreating back, Brenda waves you off and you walk into the room where you will marry the love of your life. 
The wedding march plays on a creaky organ as you walk down the short aisle. 
As your gaze lands on Eddie, your heart beats in your throat. He's wearing that tailored suit of his, but a white shirt now hugs his torso. No tie, as you could have predicted, but a sprig of cornflowers is tucked into his suit jacket pocket. 
Something blue.
It makes you smile, and cements the fact that this is right. He couldn't have known you'd pick a blue dress for the same reason, but here you were, matching. 
Your beautiful satin gown mirrored the powder blue in the flower, flared slightly at the waist to sit gently on your knee. The tasteful neckline scooped, sitting at your chest with an elegant fold. You had blue paper flowers interwoven in your hair, with a net veil tucked backwards away from your face. 
Your eyes never left him for a second. Vision locked, you stared at him pouring every ounce of your love into your gaze with each step you took towards him. Eddie's eyes seemed glassy. Was he about to cry? The thought made tears of your own well up. 
Reaching the end, you stop and face him. 
"Something blue huh?" You whisper, nodding at his flower accompaniment. 
"Something blue" He smiles, gesturing at your dress. "You look incredible." 
Keening at the praise, you look down for the first time and notice his heavy black biker boots. 
He shuffles uncomfortably in place. 
"I, er, forgot my shoes." 
"It's perfect. Very you." Smiling, you grasp his hand, and nod at the officiary in front of you. 
The officiary goes through the vows, up until it's time for the rings. 
The rings! How could I forget the rings?! 
Eddie's small smile is enough to calm you, as he reaches into his inside pocket and hands you a simple white gold band. He's holding a matching one. 
You flash a warm smile at him, one he reciprocates with a disarming wink. This is the man you fell for; always ready, fixing a situation, making everything OK with just a glance. 
The service ends quickly. They must have a quota to meet or something as before you know it, you are ushered outside and another couple are making their forever I Do's. 
"So, what now, Mr Munson?" You ask, threading your arms around his waist. 
"Hmmm, whatever Mrs Munson wants" He replies, nudging his nose with yours. 
The giggle that bubbles out of your mouth comes unbidden and doesn't seem to want to stop. 
"I think we should drink to our happily ever after, don't you?"  
"OK" he sighs, "one drink. Then, hotel. I wanna consummate this thing right now." 
The giggle turns into belly laughs as you respond, "I bet you do. But first a toast!" 
********************
Well. It turns out, Vegas gives a lot of things to newlyweds. A free steak dinner, some free spins, and free drinks. A lot of free drinks. The afternoon had bled into late evening, and your cheeks hurt from the permanent smile etched on your face.
You both stumble towards the rented room and open it with a key card on the third attempt. Making your way into the room, Eddie stops you in your tracks. 
"No, I gotta do this right" He mutters, as he lifts you up and cradles you in his arms to cross the threshold. 
"Eddie!" You shriek, wiggling in his arms as he lifts you into the room, banging the door shut with his foot. 
Eddie places you less than gracefully on the bed, the mattress wobbling under your weight. He hovers over you, looking distressed for a moment. 
"Fuck" He says, almost defeated, his knee forcing your legs apart.
"What?" 
"I used all my moves on you. Dunno what to do" He huffs into your neck, the hot air making you shiver. 
"You silly bastard" you laugh, grabbing at his arms in a futile attempt to pull him in.
"No, 'sgot to be special!" He whines childishly. 
"Eddie…" you attempt to get his attention, but he continues to look distraught, lips dragging soft and sloppy kisses over your neck. Inhibitions have truly left the building; the alcohol, eloping, and the feel of his hands all over you had you feeling rebellious.
"Well, you can always- stick it in my ass." 
The statement pulls him out of his overcome revelry and lifts his head to gape at you, soft brown eyes trying to judge if you're being serious or not.
"Huh??" 
"Well, you want to. You said it before. It'll… mark the occasion." You smirk at him, lifting your dress over your head and discarding it on one of the garish rugs in the room. 
Pretty underwear displayed, Eddie's eyes rake over your frame. All barely there light blue lace hugs your curves. His gaze covets your physique, roaming up and down your body with reckless abandon. 
"Well, you want to?" You ask, turning around beneath him so that your ass is pointing at him, almost wiggling in anticipation. 
"Ooh you dirty fuckin' girl" He breathes out, quickly freeing himself of his suit jacket and shirt. 
The rough pull of his hands forcing your hips up elicits a squeak from you, and before you know it he's running his tongue across your clothed pussy, dragging it up and up, and over your hole. Whimpering at the new sensation, you find yourself pushing back unconsciously onto his tongue.
"Fuck, my dirty girl. My dirty wife." 
Suddenly he hooks his tongue into the flimsy stripe of your panties, and you feel it against your bare ring. The sensation is new; different but very welcome. Moaning wantonly, your fingers grip onto the bed sheets. 
Eddie wrestles your underwear off you then, roughly working them down your thighs and off. Your bra goes too, flung into the abyss. Manhandling you back into position, your ass unceremoniously up in the air, he massages your cheeks with coarse hands. 
"Legs wider for me, sweetheart." 
You shuffle your knees, starting to feel self conscious in your position, but it's not good enough. 
"I said wider." 
A sharp smack to your ass takes you entirely by surprise, buzzing over your skin. A moan comes out of you at the sensation. 
"I think she likes that!" You can hear the smile in his voice. You move your knees further out to accommodate him. The lack of sound coming from him is making you feel uncomfortable, until you feel a soft kiss, just a simple brush of his lips against the cheek he just struck. 
"So fuckin' beautiful." 
He's licking into you then, tongue breaching your hole as he slips a finger deep into your cunt. 
"Oh fuck, Eddie!" 
It feels so messy, so naughty; the wet noises of Eddie's wiggling tongue, and of his thick finger pulling squelching sounds from deep within are loud and salacious. He hums satisfaction into you, the vibration driving you wild. The need is throbbing from you, your clit twitching at nothing. 
It's almost getting too much to take, his incessant movements making you feral with desires. 
"Eddie, please!" 
You expect teasing from him, a sarcastic comment, a pouting voice, but nothing comes. You just feel the emptiness of his tongue and finger exiting you, leaving you clenching at nothing. Then, the sound of his belt, clear as a bell. There's rustling, and a very quiet 'fuck'. 
"What's wrong Eddie?" You ask, trying to look over your shoulder. 
"Forgot my boots" He laughs, as he frantically tries to rid himself of his pants, boxers and boots in one go. You giggle at his eagerness. 
All laughter stops however when you feel him release a globule of spit directly on your hole. It has you clenching around nothing, thighs clenching at the seediness of it all. 
Then, his arms are on either side of your shoulders as he crowds over you, bare skin sliding on your back, his cock pushed between your legs. Hot breath fans the shell of your ear; his wavy hair tickling your neck. 
"You sure you wanna do this, pretty girl?" 
"Yes, please Eddie." 
He kisses your cheek, then your shoulder, soft, loving kisses that make your insides melt. 
"You tell me if it's too much sweetheart."
Kneeling up, he lines himself up with your hole, spitting down again at where you are so close to being joined, and pushes against you. 
The tip slides in and you gasp. It's not painful as such, just uncomfortable. Eddie's large hand strokes down your back, soothing you. 
"Just relax sweetheart." 
Heeding his words, you breathe through your nose and out through your mouth. 
"Look at you, doing such a good job. I'm gonna go further, OK?" 
"Y-yeah" you manage, the praise fluttering in your tummy. As he softly caresses your back with his hand, he pushes his length into you slowly, until he's fully seated inside. 
"Fuuuck… so tight sweetheart, holy shit." 
His breathing is laboured, both hands now grasping onto your hips for dear life. 
You feel… full. Not unpleasantly so. As you relax around his length, your pussy begins to flutter in the absence of attention. A mixture of your slick and his spit is wetting your thighs, a cooler contrast to the heat throbbing inside you. 
"Eddie, you can move." 
"No I fucking can't" He half laughs, though it sounds slightly strained as he's stroking your skin. 
"Eddie!" 
"OK, OK," he mumbles, pulling out slightly and pushing back in. The feeling is odd, foreign, but with each thrust it pushes the sensations into those of pleasure. You're moaning now, losing yourself in it as pressure mounts in your abdomen. 
"Fuck" Eddie's hips stutter slightly, "forgot about the ceiling mirror." 
He stops for a moment, clearly losing himself in staring at the two of you conjoined in your sinful position. From here, you couldn't see even if you tried, and the heat pooling from you, the pulsating need, is taking over. So, you push back on his cock, moving your own hips back and forth, chasing your release. 
"Holy shit, look at you, think I married a fuckin' porn star, fuck" 
His grip tightens again as he thrusts into you harder, grunting with the effort. 
Your climax is hurtling towards you violently, the force of it shaking you from the inside out. 
"Eddie, Oh I'm gonna- I'm cumming!" 
You explode, liquid fire running in your veins, pulsing out with each roll of Eddie's hips. It doesn't burn, how could it? You're barely there, floating to the heavens on a cloud of ecstasy.
"Sweetheart, gripping me too tight, w-where-" 
"Inside, please baby, cum inside me I wanna feel it!" 
Eddie releases in you with one final powerful thrust. The throb of his orgasm extends your own, wildfire licking at each nerve ending in immeasurable waves. 
Finally, you slump into the mattress, sweating and spent. Eddie flops on top of you, peeling away the hair that had stuck to your neck. 
"You alright there princess?" 
"Yeah" you breathe out, "didn't think it was gonna be that good. I think I left my body for a second there." 
He chuckles, slipping out of you and rolling onto the bed. You lie next to him, snuggled contentedly into his chest. You glance up and see your two bodies entwined, legs wrapped up in each others, fitting together like perfect puzzle pieces. 
"The mirrors a bit creepy." 
"That's a shame, I kinda want one now." 
You giggle, lightly smacking his chest. 
"Pervert." 
"Hmm, now, who was the one who was begging for a dick in the ass?" 
"Eddie!" You shriek, embarrassed. 
"Just saying. We're both perverts. Wanna take a shower, Mrs Munson?" 
"Only if you join me, Mr Munson." 
You feel the smile on his lips as he presses them against your forehead. 
"See? Pervert." 
********************
Your stomach is tied tight into a clump of a knot, stressed strands intermingling and tugging on your organs. You try to breathe, feeling the tension in your head subside slightly, but it's still there. Glancing over at Eddie in the driver's seat he gives you a small smile and a reassuring pat on your knee, rough thumb brushing encouragement. It helps. 
You're parked outside Eddie's house, having driven back after a couple of days of marital bliss, but now the real world is knocking. Eddie had to go back to the shop to check on things, and you need to talk to your parents. 
"You can do it, I know you can" Eddie whispers softly. 
"Yes, I can. Come on." 
Setting your jaw in determination, you reach out for the handle to let yourself out of the truck. 
Both of you stand on the sidewalk, his hand firmly grasped in yours. 
"Are you sure you want me to come with you?" Eddie looks worried, discomfort evident. No surprise considering what happened the last time he saw your dad. 
"Yes, definitely. They need to know we're serious. Let's go." 
He lets you lead the way across the street and outside your parents house. Both cars are in the driveway, a good indication that your mom and dad are both home. Taking one final deep breath, you knock on the door. 
The door opens a crack, and your mom's face appears. Then it's flung open wide crashing in the frame and she's crushing you in a bone crunching embrace. 
"Oh thank God you're safe I was so worried! Honey I'm so sorry, come in, come in!" 
She's dragging you inside and Eddie sheepishly follows just behind you. Her hands are cradling your face, as if she's looking for signs of pain. 
"Mom, I'm OK. I'm great. I'm happy" You reassure her with a tight smile, pulling her hands down to her sides. It's as if she just notices Eddie is there, eyes flitting between you two as you grasp his hand firmly again. For your strength, as well as his. 
"Honey, you know all I want is for you to be happy. If he's the man you want, I'll stand by-" 
Her encouraging words are cut off by the gruff tones of your father from the kitchen.
"Is that her?" He booms, and you jump slightly, trying to will the confidence that you just held back into your spine. 
He appears then, cheeks an angry red, the stern look set into his face slightly marred by the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. 
"Now Mick, we discussed-"
Your mom begins but he moves her aside to try and step towards you. His eyes quickly move to Eddie but you stand in front of him like a shield. 
"You can get out of my house right now!" 
"Dad, can we just-" 
He points a finger at you, eyes dragging away from Eddie and towards you again. 
"Now you listen here young lady-" 
"No!" 
It comes out loud, louder than you expected it to. Shock emanates from him in waves as he stares at you open mouthed. 
Softer, you continue. 
"No. You listen. You've said enough and you've not let me speak, through any of this." 
Your father attempts to regain composure. The accusing finger is laid to rest, and he nods at you. Taking it as the best sign you can, you finally have your say. 
"I'm not a kid anymore. I'm a woman. I can make my own decisions, and I've decided. I love Eddie. I love him with all my heart. He's the one for me, now and always." 
Eddie doesn't say anything; he's letting you have your moment, so he just places his hand on your shoulder and squeezes. You reach up with your own hand, your left hand, and squeeze right back. Mom's eyes widen when she notices the rings. 
"I want you to accept this, to accept us. This happened, whether you like it or not. Eddie's a good man, you know he is. I love you all. Please don't make me choose between you, because-" biting back tears, you try and stay strong, "because I'll always choose my husband." 
The silence is loaded and deafening. All you can hear is your own heart hammering in your ears. 
Your dad's voice breaks the quiet. It's low, bordering on a whisper. 
"So… this is serious then?" 
You can't help it, a laugh barks out of your chest before you can contain it, the release of emotion allowing a tear to run down your cheek. 
"You could say that." 
"Honey, I- come here." Your father opens his arms to you and you fall into them, tears tumbling freely down your face. He's crying then too, bubbling sobs that he buries into your hair. 
"I'm so sorry honey, so sorry" He blubbering, wet apologies spilling from his mouth like a dam has burst. "You're my little girl, I just w-wanted to p-protect you." 
You shush him, rubbing his back. 
"I know dad, I know." 
He finally releases you from his grip, wiping tears furiously from his face. 
Eddie steps around you, holding his hand out to your father. He takes it in his, and then grasps it with the other as well, holding it firmly as he looks him in the eyes. 
"You love my daughter?" 
"More than anything." Eddie says emphatically. Your dad nods, but doesn't let go. 
"You promise to take care of her, make her happy?" 
It feels like you're saying your vows all over again, only this time it's to become part of the family. 
"I promise Mick. I'd do anything for her." 
Your father pulls him forward suddenly, taking Eddie by surprise. He whispers something in his ear, and envelops him into a crushing embrace. 
You look over to your mom. Tears are cascading down her cheeks and she grabs onto you for dear life. 
"You're married?! I didn't get a chance to buy a hat!" Your laughs and tears intermingle at that, smiling broadly. 
After a few more hugs and tears, you excuse yourself, going upstairs to collect yourself and freshen up. Two minutes later, Eddie's barging in, clearly forgetting how to knock again. Not that you care anymore. You're in each other's arms immediately, his large hand stroking the back of your head. 
"Well, that went better than last time." 
You laugh, nodding agreement. Pulling away to look at him, you can't help but ask. 
"What did my dad whisper to you?" 
He chuckles back and fills you in. 
"Something along the lines of, 'if you break her heart I'll break both your legs.' " 
"Wow, extreme." 
"Fuckin' fair if you ask me sweetheart." 
His lips are on yours, soft plush pillowed against you. 
"I gotta go to the shop, sort some stuff out. Oh, and get a key cut." 
You tilt your head at him. "A key?" 
"For you, for your new home. Our home." 
Your tears brim with tears anew. 
"You want me to move in, what, straightaway?" 
"Hmm lemme think" He says, index finger dramatically tapping his chin. "Hell yes?" 
You don't answer. You don't have to. You just fling yourself into his arms and kiss him over, and over, and over. 
********************
Tag List (Thank you for all of your support it means so much to me)
@hereforshmut @g4ys0n @winchester-angel @eddiemunson95 @corrodedcoffincumslut @shazzie33 @severusswife @daluamaia1 @callsignraver @lightvixxen @newlips @eddiethefreakkmunson @ali-r3n @bebe07011 @roanniom @eddiesprincess86 @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @daisyridleyyyy @lolalanaie @dandelionnfluff @latedawnsearlysunsets92 @luv-flor7777 @topaz1983 @pixxie2004 @harmfulb1tch @findmeincorneliastreet @eddies-puppet @fertilitygodkiszka @freshsagegarden @josephquinnsfreckles
647 notes · View notes
nopointic · 4 months
Text
when lisa said how everyone always says "time heals all wounds" when you lose a loved one or are hurt so badly you feel like nothing will ever be okay again, and she said that's a lie "time is the wound" i was like!!!!!!!
that's the fucking wound!!!!! that's why we feel distressed when we're looking back at memories and can't find that shirt we wore every other monday to a club meeting or that bracelet your grandma gave you. the smudged and faded writings in old books you've had on your shelf for ages. we memorialize EVERYTHING as humans. hell even animals do too!
we write letters and sing songs and we lay flowers and grin at laughs that sound familiar and get misty eyed at scents we catch walking through a crowded store. we cut hair and keep lockets of it and i've seen parents hold onto gowns they wore at the hospital while giving birth (my grandma still has the gown she gave birth to my mom in! she's 82 years old!!!!!!!!!! had my mom at 17!!!!!!) we are all made of memories and lisa is so right about how nobody should be forgotten.
the creature leaving flowers and writing beloved wife on her tomb! the gummy rings! the stitches she used to put him back together. the note folded like a football and she used her favorite pink gel pen! you KNOW she spritzed some perfume on that letter! you know lisa! we know her! cos weird shy quiet girls are her! (i am still selectively mute)
time is an open wound because we don't know how much we're gonna get. when he played the piano and lisa said you had a whole life. yes! people in the past had lives and fufilling ones! even if the final tombstone says something as fucked up unmarried or unknown, that use to be a vibrant soul! a person! like you and me.
lisa frankenstein may be corny or too campy to some, but it was everything my libra pink heart emoji with the yellow sparkles could ever want in a romcom.
someone literally ride or die for you, showing you their wounds, holding their wounds and saying i see and feel you and i'm gonna make this better, not perfect, but better, and i love you for loving and noticing me, and not throwing me away. for remembering me and picking me over and over even when i wasn't there. even when i didn't talk. when i couldn't talk. when i chose NOT to talk. you picked me? and loved me anyways? and got me?!
that is love.
and yes, lisa frankenstein is poetic cinema to me. sorry not sorry but it is. 5 stars. a million pink heart emojis.
a pair of gummy rings and tulle skirt in pastel goth colors with bold rainbow suspenders. this movie has my heart!
120 notes · View notes
shiny-jr · 1 year
Text
how to steal a heart (I)
Tumblr media
[ a dummy's guide on how to steal the heart of a poor pathetic man ]
- Warning: Yes, this is still a yandere thing. You have been warned. Female reader. 
- Note: This has been an idea (heavily inspired by Howl's Moving Castle) I had in my docs since fall 2022. I was talking to a mutual about how writing on Tumblr vs Quotev feels very different. If I leave something unfinished on Quotev, I feel incredibly guilty which prevents me from posting new stories. However, on Tumblr, I don't feel as guilty. Not sure why. Anyways, I know most of my followers here don't care for my ocs, and I've been wanting to post this for so long. So instead of posting on Quotev, I'll post it on here just to get rid of the urge to share this story (might delete this later). This is the same story I posted that little screenshot of not too long ago, and that screenshot was basically just the prologue chapter. So yeah. Hope you enjoy?
IN WHICH THERE IS A SEAMSTRESS . . .
Black smoke concealed the window like a thick veil as the walls around her shook. It was a sure sign that the train was inching by. The screech from its whistle and clanking against the railroad tracks, so loud that it must’ve been heard over a mile away, only confirmed her guess. Her hands continued to cut smoothly through the linen fabric, separating enough to fulfill another order placed this morning. As the young woman worked to separate the colors and gather more material, the corner of her eyes caught sight of the smoke concealing her perfect view. 
The train’s fading motion and clanging against the tracks was eventually replaced by chatter just outside her workshop. It all became background noise, as she began to utilize the sewing machine. Lines formed over the cloth, blending it and connecting so they formed an article of clothing. Needles, pins, and scissors cut and dug deep through the cloth. Buttons of all shapes and sizes were neatly organized in little boxes, so she could easily take what she needed. Time just seemed to fly as she worked so quietly and efficiently, oblivious to the hours ticking by. Any other noise fell on deaf ears, even as a knock resounded on the firm wooden door that happened to be wide open already. 
A pause before the person tried again, knocking a little louder again. “(Y/n)?” 
Snapping out of her efficient trance, the tailor snapped to attention and straightened her sitting posture. Gazing at the door and back the window where the sun was much lower than before, it took her a moment to figure out what exactly was going on and what time it was. It was later in the day, and the woman at the door was Dalena… Well, everyone called her Ma Dalena because she was a kind older lady who tended to see the young female tailors as her own children. At least, most of the tailors. 
“We closed up five minutes ago. You can go now.” Ma Dalena gave an encouraging smile that displayed the dimples on her skin, showing signs of age evident by the wrinkles. Judging by her long dress and small woven handbag hanging from her wrist, it was probably safe to assume that she had evening plans. “Why not spend the rest of the day with us?” 
Us. Correct she was again. As welcoming as the invitation was to join Ma Dalena and the other tailors, she wasn’t willing to join them anymore. Not after the first time when she dared to venture with them. After shifts, the tailors had a tradition of going out into town. Not that it was a bad thing. But they used their time cafe hopping, searching for flirtatious men to satisfy their need for affection. Oftentimes, they would get caught up with the pushy kind. And ever since some troops from the military have returned from their duties, well… encountering a bunch of men who hadn’t felt the touch of a woman in months, was not ideal. At least for her. 
Taking her foot off the pedal to pause her work and silence the sewing machine, she pretended to consider the invitation before mustering a polite smile with a shake of her head. “Hm… It sounds nice. But I promised the client I would finish this so they can pick it up tomorrow. So I’ll stay, but have fun. Have another drink in my place, alright?” 
Ma Dalena merely nodded in understanding, her polite smile turning somber as she turned on her two-inch heels and began walking to the front entrance. The chatter of the other tailors ready and eager for the rest of the day off, went quiet as she announced, “We’re leaving now. Hurry now if you’re coming!” 
The chatter resumed, accompanied by the sound of more heels tapping quickly against the wooden floors in an effort for the straying members to catch up with the group. They complimented each other's outfits they spent days making by hand, discussing various fashion trends, gossiping about clients and others in town. 
In a way, she did and she didn’t regret accepting the invitation. It may have been nice to have good company for once, but it never felt right when she was present within their clique. It was as if she were trying to forcefully add a puzzle piece to an already complete puzzle, which is why she stopped forcing it. She wouldn’t want to sit there awkwardly during tea, unsure what to say as they spoke so confidently and loudly. It felt as if she were an imposter, someone trying to disguise themselves to blend in. It was why she worked in a small separate room, away from everyone else. That, and because she was the fastest tailor there. Part of her wondered if Ma Dalena was beginning to dislike her since she turned down invitation after invitation. But how was she to explain what she was feeling, when it would only sound like whining? 
Drowning out her thoughts with work to occupy the space in her mind, she pressed her foot against the pedal and began sewing once more. The loud hum of the machine filled her ears as it worked against the red cloth under her fingertips. This was the way it was supposed to be. Mindlessly spending her waking hours working at a craft she didn’t excel at, but was decent enough to earn wages in. All while wondering what could’ve been, and secretly hoping that maybe soon there is something that can be–– 
“Look! Look out there! It’s Reyes’ temple!” 
“Reyes?!”
“Where? I don’t see it!” 
“There! Over the hill!” 
Now that was something you don’t see everyday. Everyone retreated back to the window, desperate to catch a glimpse, even Ma Dalena. Halting her work once again, (Y/n) too was the tiniest bit curious. 
In truth, magicians failed to interest her, not that she had an opportunity to see them much anyways. But all those in Etére knew to be cautious of two particular magic wielders: La Bruja de Bruez, the Witch of Bruez, and Reyes Ladrón de Corazones, Reyes the Thief of Hearts. The pair were like the local boogeymen, tales of their horrendous deeds spreading and becoming bedtime stories for children in order to scare them into good behavior. 
Ever since her youth, she heard stories of La Bruja de Bruez. It was said that she was a wicked woman who’s lived for over a hundred years. A slight against her is taken seriously, and she curses those she comes across. But she was no mere fairytale. The witch has been a thorn in the country’s side for a long time, as she terrorizes the towns she visits. There hasn’t been much action taken against her, because she’s so powerful that hardly anyone stands a chance and she’s so elusive. Besides, the royal family don’t particularly care if the witch curses a random citizen every month or so, as long as they don’t have to risk pawns in their own arsenal of magicians just to take her down. 
Only a few years ago, a second magician with fearsome spells and a horrible reputation, appeared. Reyes Ladrón de Corazones, or more commonly known as Reyes, was another brujo many feared, although not as much as his counterpart from Bruez. There were rumors, yes, but they were more lighthearted with little evidence to ever back up the claims. While the Bruja de Bruez spared no one, it was said that Reyes chose to pursue only young beautiful women. If you asked around town, half of the population would consider him a threat, while the other half would giggle and whisper about his rumored good looks. Maybe that’s how he lured them in? With charms. Either way, he was a cause for concern. It was said that at a young age after abandoning his position as apprentice under the royal sorceress, the most powerful known magician, he not only challenged her but won and stripped her of her powers. Of course, no one can neither confirm nor deny it, as the king kept a tight lid on the situation and supposedly those who approach Reyes meet a terrible fate. But his abode was proof enough of his sheer strength. It was like a castle, a temple wandering on mechanical legs, rumored to not only be fueled by magic but also made of it.
Through the mist and low hanging clouds, just over the rolling hills on the horizon she could make out the distinct shape of a temple. A magnificent temple that appears so small from so far away. But she knew that it was a beast, a titan wandering the wilderness where very few dared to venture. It prowled around on its mechanical legs, spewing black smoke as the only trail it left behind. Reyes’ moving temple disappeared behind the clouds, seemingly vanishing from sight. Onlookers within the tailor shop could only awe and wonder aloud what the brujo was like, what was true and what was not, their minds creating horrible fears and outlandish fantasies that would take root as rumors. 
Lowering her gaze back to her work, she resumed once more, but the rumors overpowered the hum of her machine until their words reached her. The other tailors proceeded back to the front entrance, marveling about what they just witnessed. Was he hiding from soldiers practicing their flights just outside the town? Did you hear that he literally steals the hearts of women, but only beautiful ones? Someone said that a pretty waitress on the other side of town had her own heart torn out and stolen by Reyes just last week! 
The door was shut and she was alone, left with her work and the noise outside. Swiftly she worked, able to repair tears and wears with ease and create other things. Able to get lost in the work for much longer, until she felt the ground shake and the screech of another whistle. The afternoon train. It’s smoke covering her window once again. It was getting late already. Not wishing to waste the rest of the day by continuing work or go to bed with a book she had already read twice, she switched off the machine and organized all the tools back into their places. Brushing off all stray strings from her dress, she then rearranged her completed work thus far and prepared to have a different kind of day. 
Today, she would try to make it a can be sort of day. Even if it meant just visiting a close friend like Lía at the bakery. Just putting out the effort to go out today was more than she was usually willing. Although wishing it would be something special, a proper can be day without even trying, was like wishing to be acknowledged by a person you admire but never once talked to, it was much like winging it on a test without studying and praying you would get a perfect score even though knowing that it’s almost near impossible. But it isn’t statistically completely impossible, so you cling to that thin shred of hope that’s as taut as a piece of string. 
The whirring of small planes buzzed overhead, the flying machines brandishing their flags like the proud and numerous soldiers. On nearly every home and business, there was the flag hanging over the door, a symbol of patriotism and support of the war effort. (Y/n) quickly crossed the streets and reached the trolley station that would take her further into town. Right now there was not a soldier in sight, but that was sure to change the closer to the center of town she got. She only prayed that there wouldn’t be any trouble with them. 
The trolleys were full, people all going towards the center of town, in the same direction the planes overhead flew towards. If she had to guess, most of the people within the trolley were likely friends or family of returning soldiers. All giddy from the victory high of a major battle just won. 
While watching the scenery go by, she wondered how Lía was fairing. 
It was because of Lía and her family that she now worked in a tailor shop. (Y/n)’s parents had met an unfortunate end while traveling outside the kingdom. They were doctors dedicated to a good cause, determined to stay in dangerous war torn lands to heal and treat the poorest of folks. While she was busy with school and often alone but checked on by family friends, her parents were saving people an ocean away in a faraway land where Milavi’s war had spread. They had been too close to Milavi claimed territory, likely mistaken for doctors healing rebels, and were thus punished for their good deeds. With no one left to turn to, her family’s closest friend, Señor Obregón, adopted (Y/n) and treated her as one of his own. 
Señor Obregón was a quiet but respectable man that spent his time either working or with his family. He was the one that taught her how to sew, knit, and tailor, after she became curious of his skills. There were two other girls, Lía and Cova, a few years younger than (Y/n), which is why she became the oldest sibling. Lía was the beauty admired all throughout their childhood and still beloved to this day. She most resembled her mother, but she wasn’t half as vain. Cova was the youngest and somehow the smartest, as she was able to quickly grasp the concepts from lessons even in (Y/n)’s class, despite being a few grade levels apart. She mostly resembled her father and his own wits. Then there was her, (Y/n), who had… whatever was left. Of course she never held any resentment toward her sisters, since they were always well behaved but perhaps a bit annoying with their squabbles. Lastly, was Señora Obregón, Rosita, who she just called Tia Rosa for short, was never rude or dismissive to her. Tia Rosa was actually very outgoing and talkative, but she was the sort of woman that wouldn’t be caught dead wearing something from last season. She desired the finer things in life and settled for no less, which is probably why Señor Obregón ended up in an early grave due to working himself to death just to try and afford the luxuries his wife craved. 
Immediately after the funeral, while they were still dressed head-to-toe in black and their eyes were puffy from crying, Rosita sat all three of her daughters for a conversation about the future. It would be impossible for her to keep them all in school, especially considering she hadn’t worked a day in her life. However, she wasn’t cruel enough to just toss her young girls out into the streets with nowhere to go. So, she devised a plan for each girl. Cova would be able to best utilize her smarts in a challenging field full of promise, which is why she was sent to a good witch in the next town over, to become an apprentice in magic. Lía was already very popular around town, she would thrive in a social environment like the bakery on main street where to this day men constantly asked for her hand. As for her, (Y/n), she would stay here in Obregón’s tailor shop, where Tia Rosa deemed was best fit. Afterall, she did know how to carry on the business, she had even helped their reputation grow substantially as more people came in every day and profits increased. Although, she hardly had the time to spend the earnings on herself, that’s what Tia Rosa was there for. Rather, never there for. She’d collect earnings from the business (Y/n) ran and would disappear for weeks or months at a time to another town or city. But that's besides the point… 
By now, the trolley she was on was near the center of town that happened to be within blocks away, the streets became crowded with people walking on foot. On roads below bridges, there were lines of military tanks rolling by. Not much further in, the sidewalks were jam packed with hundreds, upon thousands, of people. Confetti rained down, banners and flags were strung from every corner and door. Every window was occupied as citizens cheered and waved at the parade of temporary victors, a show of military strength. Soldiers in their crisp uniforms marched in unified lines, cavalry on horseback carried large flags. 
As the density of the crowds increased, and the volume of cheers and the parade along with it, she felt her heart beat louder. This was too much, it was too loud, she couldn’t even think…! But she had come this far, to go back home now when she was so close would be a little pathetic. Avoiding the commotion like a plague, she decided it best to take the maze of alleyways to calm her nerves. There were hardly any people on those backstreets, just the occasional stationed soldier. Focusing her gaze on the war propaganda posters on the brick and clay walls underneath window boxes filled with colorful flowers, she pretended to carefully study them as she increased her pace from a calm stroll to a quick speed walk, examining the items as if they were the most fascinating objects she ever saw. Really, she’d rather not make awkward eye contact with the soldiers on guard that watched her like a hawk, which is why she hurried along until they were out of sight.
Now that she was alone, with the crowds and their entertainment separated from her by walls of homes and businesses, she felt relief as the once loud sounds melted into background noise. For now she could concentrate on the address scribbled out on the folded piece of paper in her hands, and her anxiety could be replaced with confusion as she attempted to navigate these small hidden paths. This was only the second time she was on this path, since (Y/n) barely had time to ever go out due to work and her own incompetence. The first was on a holiday some weeks ago when the shop closed early, which granted her a few hours to venture on the main roads to the bakery where her friend worked. This was the second time, and she’s never taken the back roads, which was why she couldn’t tell left from right here. 
Just in time, she looked up from her note to stop her feet from moving, as she came face-to-face with an obstacle. It wasn’t another dead end, this obstacle wore clothing and golden pins, and had a head that could easily look down from his height and see the top of her hat. Immediately she stiffened up and took a step back, hesitantly forcing her eyes to look up at the smiling soldier that casually leaned against the wall. 
The young man only appeared amused as she jumped a step back in surprise. (Y/n) noticed that delighted sparkle in his eyes, as if her skittish self and startled reaction was his entertainment for the afternoon. Before she could open her mouth to mutter an apology and force her head down to continue ahead, the man leaned just a few inches closer to get a better look at her face hidden by the rim of her colorfully embroidered sun hat. “Huh, just like a mouse. Are you lost?” 
A mouse… A skittish field mouse. Would that then make him a rat or a predator? Holding her tongue so not as to speak her mind, she merely shook her head. Offending a soldier would not be good. Not that she had the confidence to say the quick comeback that came to mind anyways. “No… I’m not lost.” That was a lie. 
The young soldier persisted, refusing to move off the path as he continued to block her way. “You look lost. Say, what do you say to an invitation to tea? Afterwards, we can go over directions and escort you to where you’re heading.” Even his partner in patrol, an older gentleman, also a soldier but likely more experienced by at least a few years, moved from his post and approached in curiosity. 
As the second man stepped closer, she could distinctly hear his polished shoes tapping in a steady rhythm as he stood beside his friend. Her own heart rate easily outpaced his steps, and it wasn’t increasing due to excitement, it was due to growing unease. Yes, she knew rationally that these soldiers likely meant no harm and merely wanted to flirt, but her mind could only conjure up the worst possible scenarios as she reminded herself that they outnumbered her, they were stronger, and they had their long firearms strapped to their backs. Keeping her head down, she replied, “Thank you, but no. I’m supposed to be meeting up with someone.” 
Just like the first did, the second soldier bent down a bit to peer at her features. Just like his accomplice, he wore an amused smile as he shook his head and remarked. “A mouse? That’s not very nice. Don’t worry, you’re much better than a simple little mouse.” 
Rolling his eyes, the younger soldier only continued, “If you’re old enough to drink, we can go to a bar if that’s more your style? Do you live around here?” 
This was getting ridiculous. Did they never learn to accept rejection? No means no, even children could comprehend that. But for now, she was at their mercy, no one would come to help her here. It would be up to them to decide she was no use for any fun and let her go, or continue to persist for their selfish desires. “No. Please let me pass.” 
Barely phased by her firm reply, the younger of the two turned to his partner and scoffed, “See? I told you the girls don’t like the beard you’re growing out. It scares them.” 
It’s as if her plea went through one ear and out the other, not swaying them in even the slightest bit. The older gentleman merely rubbed the stubble on his chin, “It makes me look better. Besides, I’m sure she doesn’t mind. She might even prefer a man with facial hair.” Actually, the word gentleman did not describe him well. 
In that moment she was wondering, would she truly risk it all just to snap back in reply? It must’ve felt so satisfying, but was it necessary? Later, would she come to regret her decision or revel in it? Would she seriously use this sprouting frustration, minimal not only compared to her current fears but also in the grand scheme of things, to temporarily push past her anxiety and say something…? Probably not. As annoying as these men were, like the constant buzz of a pestersome fly, they hadn’t caused any harm except to waste a bit of her precious free time. 
“Ah, there you are, mi corazón. I was worried about you.” A smooth and silky voice interrupted.
729 notes · View notes
stitcherofchaos · 2 months
Text
Kidnap Fam vs Earendil and Elwing controversy: Regarding the twins
Maybe I’m too practical-minded, but I see a lot of people either supporting or exaggerating kidnap fam, hating it with all their being, or ignoring the whole ‘love grew between them’ to translate into ‘emotional manipulation, hatred, resentment… etc (being anti-canon)’. I’ll respect opinions, frankly, I really could care less about them, but it does get irritating when people throw canon away for the drama (I certainly get annoyed when extreme pro-kidnap fams fans make it all sunshine and rainbows as if it wasn’t a difficult time or situation).
By the way, I can and will say that the twins can feel emotions, they are allowed to do that. Resentment and love can exist at the same time (for only a period of time) but one or the other must fade in order for the other the linger. One has to be consumed in order for the other to burn.
But just a thought, Elrond and Elros could love all of their parents equally, no more, no less than the others. One became a healer and the other, a king, I think they came to understand their foster father(s) and their bio-parents’ decisions.
(Ay maybe I just suck at emotions and all this feelings stuff and have no idea what I’m tolkien about)
And I’m not trying to call out or bash anyone!
I saw (and wanted to share) the quote,
“if your anger burns the furnace in your soul your whole life, you will be forever cold in the grave.”(I’m paraphrasing, I can’t remember the exact quote)
I cannot imagine Elrond or Elros being resentful to the point were they are vicious or unforgiving, whether it was towards Elwing, Eärendil, Maglor, or Maedhros (I really don’t think he was involved too much but if you swing that way).
I don’t want Elros to be cold in his grave, and I certainly don’t want Elrond's fëa to be burning for the rest of his immortal life.
Then I also had the thought, 'if the Fëanorians had never committed the third, worst, kinslaying, then Elwing would have never flown the Silmaril to her husband and they would have never gotten the help of the Valar.'
I personally headcanon that it was Eru’s work at hand to have Maglor raise Elrond and Elros. Think about it, what if they were spoiled in an alternate universe? What if something worse had happened to the twins? What if? What if?
What if they didn't become who they were meant to be if it wasn't for who they were raised by?
By the way, I read LOTR, I know Elrond refers to Eärendil publicly as his father and he makes no mention of Maglor. I analyzed this in three ways. 1.) Elrond must keep (the memory of) Maglor closed off, locked in his heart rather than talking about him more. 2.) It would've caused drama in his realm and in the counsel. 3.) Elrond really doesn't care, his father is his father, that's it. Zip. Maglor raised him, but Maglor is gone now. In a way, Eärendil is more present than Maglor in Elrond's life by the third age. Elrond can physically see the star, but he can't see Maglor.
I see it in the third way mostly. Eärendil is Elrond father, biologically, so why would he do this "My 'real' father" BS? It just seems like a waste of time. Tolkien probably didn't want to confuse anyone since the Silmarillion couldn't be published with LOTR.
Remind me of that quote from Yondu, "He may have been your father, boy, but he wasn't your daddy." But I really didn't want to refer to that quote considering Peter and Yondu's relationship is not the best example to compare this cluster of daddy issues to. Nevertheless, there is a point to be made in that statement. There is a difference between relation in regard to Nature vs Nurture, and the effects of it.
I guess the whole point of this post is, the fandom tends to take canon lore to the extreme or over analyze things to the point where they're just projecting. Trust me, I've been there, done that. I've learned my lesson (I think) and I wanted to share what I've learned.
Also (this is purely opinion) I don’t think Maglor was manipulative about anything, in the book, he just didn’t come off that way, for as little as he appeared, he actually seemed to be pretty optimistic (*regarding Eärendil) and honest (*the debate with Maedhros). He didn’t try to excuse himself or get the twins to pity him. Maglor raising the twins was out of pity/mercy, yes, but love grew (like what Tolkien said). He probably educated them on the facts and encouraged them to form their own opinions, whether that costed him their love or not. Maglor did have the more accurate moral compass compared to his brothers (in the end of the book!- Put down your pitchforks Maedhros stans!), especially if he knew that the Silmaril was better beyond their reach than where the enemy can also reach it. It was an accurate moral compass, although not a big one.
Argue, agree or disagree, or discuss with me! I want to hear different perspectives or opinions on this matter.
71 notes · View notes
pseudowho · 3 months
Note
idk if you are doing requests right now but i have one!
recently i got rejected from my dream university and all of my friends got in, so may i have a nanami (either adult or teen) comforting the reader about it:(? i'm really sad and upset about it. it can also be for the ones who got rejected from their dream job!
thanks and i love your writing! 🍪 a cookie for you!
Oh baby :c I'm so sorry. You know, I actually have a story for this one...
Feat Reader x Teen!Nanami, aged 18/19.
+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+
"I just..." You sniffled, wine drunk and puffy from hours of crying, your phone pressed, sloppy and drunk, to your ear, "I just...know it was the right place for me, y'know? It's not fair. Everywhere else...everywhere else accepted me but the one I wanted. We could have been close. No more travelling to see each other. I'm really sorry."
The silence while you spoke, on the other end of the line, bore gravity, open and warm. A low, slow voice trying to be that of reason.
"You have nothing to be sorry for." Kento rumbled, a year ahead of you and weaving between bustling crowds between classes. "They don't deserve you, frankly."
You sniffled again, pressing your phone harder to your ear as if it would make Kento concrete against you. As if it would bring him to your arms, and your bed, so much less pathetic than crying over the phone. You turned your laptop aside so you didn't have to read the same University rejection email again, and again, and again.
"Listen." Kento pressed, and you heard the crowds fade as he slipped down a quite alleyway. "Listen to me. I'll still come to see you. Wherever you are, we can work it out. I'm...I'm in this for the long haul."
You pressed your fist to your head, eyes closed and your throat thick with tears. "I dunno, Kento, you'll...you'll find some lovely girl. Get fed up with me, I...I get it."
"Not going to happen."
"And if it does, I understand, I--"
"No. You're stuck with me, actually."
"'Stuck with you', what's wrong with you--"
"--how long have you got--"
You laughed, bubbling through your tears despite yourself, and you could swear you heard Kento smiling on the other end of the phone. Another, heavy pause, a mathematical silence.
"...there are other ways. We'll look into...options."
You weren't taking it in, still tangled in your own grief and failures. You sniffled, nodding. Kento's voice sounded pained, reluctant.
"I...I have to get to class. I'm so sorry." You shook your head as if he could see.
"No, it's... I've kept you too long--"
"Not long enough."
God you missed him. You dreamed of a life living in each others' pockets, instead of running into each others' arms at train stations.
"...I love you. You know that, right?"
Your face puckered again, threatening more tears.
"No more crying. And no more wine."
You laughed, pressing the glass to your forehead. "How did you know...?"
"I always know when you've been drinking wine."
Reluctantly, with heavy goodbyes, you hung up, and looked at your glass with a thread of guilt, before pouring the rest of the wine away.
Kento tapped his phone, thoughtful. He looked down to the lecture hall, to his next class. He looked across the student square, to Student Services.
He refused one path, and took the other, grassy and less trodden upon. He sat down on front of an advisor with a tight smile.
"Good morning. I was hoping...we could talk about a University transfer."
+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+
Listen, Anon. I'm so sorry. But your life's direction and worth is not determined by anywhere that rejects you. It's determined by the places that accept you, and what you build upon the bricks already there.
You're doing so well. Don't give up. Boyfriend!Kento wouldn't give up on you.
142 notes · View notes
envy-of-the-apple · 25 days
Note
I have a question about how Haibara killed Greeny. I'm sure he must have spent time arguing with Greeny about a quick and non-painful way, but still wondering if it was really necessary. Sounds tragically comical, my poor sunshine boy.
im so glad someone asked-
"Absolutely not."
"You're not even listening to me-"
"No."
Yu's in front of you, an uncharacteristic frown on his lips. It's one of the few times he actually looks his age. You feel like you're 15 years old again, standing in front of a stern teacher.
There's still cheery chatter thought the restaurant. No one's noticed the dark gloom hovering over your table. You preferred it. Less eyes.
"Listen, I know it sounds crazy." You start. "But I've done this before. I'm an expert at this."
"Do you even hear yourself?" Yu's hissing back. "You're talking about killing yourself. About me killing you. That's-that's fucking ridiculous I'm not-"
His voice wavers, then hardens all over again. He's pushing himself up, throwing some money on the table.
"You live far from here?" He asks.
"No."
"Good. I'm walking you home." He says, voice curt.
The walk is quiet. Just you and him and the chilly December night. When you peak over, Haibara's lips are set in a hard line.
"Is this what you and Suguru did?" He asks quietly. "In the other timeline?"
You think back to Geto's beady eyes. That twisted smile.
"It was an accident, in the other timeline." You speak. He says nothing to that.
"Yu." You swallow. "I know what I'm asking you to do here."
"I don't think you do," He says back, "I'm a sorcerer, Greeny. I save people. I-I don't...I don't do this."
He sounds like all those years ago. When you were the older one, looking down at him in amusement. It makes your heart break.
You're making him go against everything he's fought for, bled for.
"I know that," you say, "I know that, but I can't just leave him behind. I want to save him, don't you?"
That makes him stop. He stares hard at the ground.
"You're being unfair." He laughs. It sounds wet in his throat.
You bring him to your home. It's quiet. You feel like you haven't been in here for decades. But everything's just as you left it. Yu's quiet all the way.
"Whenever you're ready." You tell him.
He flinches like you've shot him. You try to smile.
"If it makes you feel better, you won't remember it," you say.
He shakes his head.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be." You start.
"I am," Yu says, "I should've...I should stop myself, but I'm not. I shouldn't do this. I shouldn't choose Satoru over you."
He's crying. Salty tears dripping over scarred cheeks. You think he wants to remember this guilt, choosing to save one of his dearest friends over the person who saved his life.
"You're not a hero." It's a fact, the truth. "You're a jujutsu sorcerer."
He's quiet. His tears fade, wiped away with his fingers.
"And you aren't a jujutsu sorcerer." In that moment, you think Haibara Yu is the closest anyone has ever gotten in understand you.
"You'll save him?" He asks, voice quiet.
There's no hesitation. You make your second promise.
"I will."
This time, there's nothing to forgive.
105 notes · View notes
crimsonmoonlight88 · 4 months
Text
Together Strong
Pairing: Noa x Mae
A/N: Help, I've fallen and I can't get up. Just a short drabble inspired by a scene from Avatar that refused to leave my mind.
--
It was hard to believe the war for world domination was over for now--harder, even, to think how much had changed since the first time Mae had stepped into this ruined observatory and gazed upon the stars.
Like that fateful night, the sky was dark and cloudless, glittering with stars and the promise of a brighter future. Mae had been wrong, then. The world did not belong to the humans--it belonged to humans and apes, and together they would need to navigate this new age.
The Eagle Clan had tripled in size, and was now established as one of the leading territories. The Clan had chosen a new Master of Birds and Warlord, which called for a celebration. Mae had never known what it was like--to feast and laugh and tell stories over bonfires. To listen to the beating of drums and chants of song.
The festivities that followed the ceremony would last long through the night, and she had needed a moment of quiet, seeking this long forgotten place beneath the stars.
As Mae moved toward the telescope, she heard him enter, intentionally making himself known as to not startle her. But he did not speak. She wondered when he had noticed she had slipped away; he always seemed keenly aware of where she was, just as she was of him.
The past few weeks--months, really--had been nothing but plotting and planning and fighting. There had been blood, and death, and little time to talk about much else but war and peace. Mae did not mind. It let her avoid the truths she feared to acknowledge.
But she knew she could longer avoid them.
"It feels like ages since we were here," she said finally, a hand trailing over the cool bite of metal. "You are the Master of Birds now." She dug a finger into a groove, feeling moist dirt there. "Anaya says you will make a bow from the wood of the tallest tree." She paused. "And you will choose a mate."
Noa said nothing, watching her from the shadows in that silent, still way of his.
For some reason, Mae could not look at him, even though she could hardly look away during the ceremony. He had been covered in dark blue and white woad, adorned in armor that made him look more a knight than an ape. Master of Birds and Warlord. A leader.
Mae reached up to the necklace she always wore, her fingers playing with Raka's medallion--the symbol of peace and strength. "Nina is a good singer," she admitted. The female was one of the best in the clan, taming even the most wild of eagles.
A beat of silence. And then Noa said, his voice drifting from the shadows, "I do not want...Nina."
Mae suppressed a smile, but it quickly faded. "Soona is a good hunter. And an even better friend." And you were born within a sunset.
Another beat of quiet. And then--
"She is...all those things." He paused. "And family."
Mae stilled, not just at his words, but because he had snuck up behind her. She turned, half dreading what she might find. Noa stood at his full height, intimidating in his warrior's garb. He was hardened from war, but his eyes were still soft as he looked at her.
"But I have...already chosen," Noa went on gently. He reached out, his large hand covering hers over the medallion, his eyes bright. "But this woman...this...Nova...must also choose me."
Mae smiled at him, blinking back tears. "She already has."
His lips parted slightly, almost in disbelief. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to hers, his strong hands finding the back of her neck.
"You choose...this?" he breathed. "You choose...Eagle Clan? Me?"
He had once asked her if apes and humans could live together. Then, she had not known. But now, she could see no other future. Noa and Raka, Soona and Anaya and the others, even the humans that had joined their forces, they were family now.
"Yes," Mae answered. "Our cause is important. What we have built is important." She reached up, cupping his cheek. "You are important. To me."
His hands tightened on her neck, no doubt remembering those words, how he had said them to her on the battlefield when he had begged her to run. She refused. She would not leave him and the others then, and she would not leave them now.
Mae closed her eyes. "Together," she went on, "strong."
"Together," Noa echoed, his voice a promise, "strong."
And as they stood there under the stars, ape and human but somehow twin souls, Mae knew, no matter what the future held, they would face it side by side.
Together.
131 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
A promise kept
Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 8
Prompt: Idiots to lovers
Rated: G
Tags: Childhood friends to lovers; Mistaken identity; Fluff; Modern AU if you squint
CW: none
Notes: @house-of-the-moving-image and I came up with this while bouncing ideas for another drabble and fell instantly in love with the idea. Be sure to also check out the precious art they made!!!
Tumblr media
The bars of the jungle gym creak but Steve doesn’t lift his face from his hunched knees.
“Hey, big boy, don't cry.” 
“‘m not crying. Go away!”
This is ridiculous. He's almost eight, and eight-year-old boys don't cry. Not even if their only friend in the whole world just told them they're moving away to live with their uncle. 
They don't even know each other’s names. Names don't matter when you're eight and you're both at the park and looking for someone to play with. 
So Steve is big boy. 
And his friend … well, Steve mostly calls him his dragon.
It's because of this game they have. Steve is a king and the other boy his dragon and the jungle gym their castle, and every day, they have a new adventure. 
Except now, there won't be any more adventures.
“Oh? But how am I supposed to give you this?” 
Steve lifts his head, goes a bit cross-eyed at the flower that's hovering right in front of his face. 
“What would I want with that?” he snaps. “Flowers are for girls.” 
His dragon chuckles as he joins him on his perch. The playground stretches out under them. Their kingdom. 
“But this isn't just any flower. It's magical.” 
Steve wrinkles his nose. “Magical?” 
“Yup!” His friend's face breaks into a grin, two teeth short. “As long as you keep it, I'll always make my way back to you. It may take a while, but I'll find you eventually.” 
“Promise?” Steve murmurs. There's a lump in his throat and it comes out small and quiet.
“I promise.” The other boy winks and tugs the flower behind his ear. “That I'll find you, and that I'll always be your dragon. And now, my king … how about one final adventure?” 
*
The colors of the jungle gym are faded with age. Like the pressed flower in its frame on his bedroom wall. 
“Oh hey, Steve!” 
Steve looks up from the book in his lap to find a familiar someone next to their picnic blanket.
“Eddie, hi!” He smiles, even as his stomach drops. “I … what are you doing here?” 
“Steve?” Will asks, ogling Eddie's tattoos and wild hair with large eyes. “Who's this?” 
“Oh, erm …” Steve runs an awkward hand through his hair. “My friend Eddie. He just moved here. Eddie, this is Will and El, the kids I babysit?” 
“Of course,” Eddie dips into a bow, which makes the twins giggle. “Steve has told me all about you.” 
“Do you want to sit with us?” El asks. “Steve is reading the How to train your dragon books to us.” 
“Fuck yeah, I love dragons!” Eddie cheers. Only he doesn’t sit on the blanket like a normal person - he perches himself on the steps of the jungle gym and hisses, pulling a silly face and mimicking claws with his hands. El whoops and claps while Will smiles shyly. Steve needs to swallow against the memories that threaten to crawl up his throat. 
*
“Was it alright to invite Eddie?” El asks. They've finished reading for the day and she helped Steve get snow cones. “You said he's your friend, but you seem sad when you look at him.”
Steve sighs.
“It's okay,” he says, because how do you explain this to a seven-year-old? 
How do you explain I only met him a few weeks ago but I really like him and it confuses me because it seems like I've known him forever because he reminds me so much of someone I used to know and I'm scared because it feels like I'm betraying that person even though I'm sure they've long forgotten about me?
Will is up on the jungle gym when they round the corner, beaming from ear to ear and talking animatedly with Eddie, who is gesturing up at him from the ground. 
“El!” he calls out when he spots his sister. She smiles and clambers up to join him, handing over one of the dripping snow cones. “Eddie has the best ideas. He just told me about this game he used to play as a kid. Did you know the jungle gym could be a castle and we could be kings and dragons? What do you want to be? We could-” 
“Steve?” 
Someone touches his shoulder and he flinches back into his own body. Eddie’s voice is full of concern, and okay, that's probably because he just dropped their snow cones. They're forming rainbow-colored puddles in the grass. 
“Stevie, c'mon, talk to me! You're freaking me out here!”
He snaps his head up. 
“Oh, thank fuck,” Eddie smiles. His eyes are large with worry. Large and brown and crinkling at the corners and so familiar and Steve's an idiot. “You just zoned out there, I thought-” 
“It's you,” Steve mutters. His hands are shaking and his eyes are stinging and then the next thing he knows is that his arms are around Eddie’s neck and he's sobbing into his shoulder. “Holy fuck, it's really you! You're my dragon!” 
“Wait, what?” Eddie pulls back, smile wide and incredulous. His fingers wipe away Steve’s tears, trace the shape of his cheekbones and jaw. “You're- Shit, really? I knew you looked familiar, but I thought there was no way-” 
“I was feeling so bad!” Steve blurts, chest heaving with what might be sobs or laughter, and who cares really, when he found his dragon again? “I was so scared to fall for you because-” 
“Oh?” Eddie’s grin isn't missing any teeth, but it's still just as brilliant. “Are you now?” 
“Huh?” 
Eddie chuckles. “Falling for me?” 
Steve feels himself flush, even as he gives a shaky nod. Eddie’s eyes are soft as he pulls him in. 
“It's okay, big boy. You don't have to be afraid of anything while I'm around.”
“This is really weird,” El whispers from somewhere above them as their lips meet. “I don't think they understand how being friends works.”
Tumblr media
All my holiday drabbles
295 notes · View notes
mustainegf · 2 months
Text
Been a while since I gifted y’all with a step daddy fic so HERE U GO!!
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: age gap, stepdad x step daughter, daddy kink, handjob, praise, all characters are 18+
Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐄 ²⁰²³
Tumblr media
Walking down the dark hallway in the middle of the night, after retrieving a glass of water. I stay quiet as I pass by my moms room where James, my step dad is sleeping. Or so I thought.
As I pass the door, I hear a gently shifting, soft breaths that are almost... moan-like...
I lean closer to the door, trying to hear him better. My ears are then blessed with some of the sexiest noises I've ever heard.
It sounds like he's pleasuring himself, or perhaps he's just having a bad dream?
I stay listening for what feels like forever until finally, I decide to try and open the door. I carefully turn the knob, and it doesn't make a sound, thank god.
I open it a crack and glance inside.
James is lying naked in bed, his hand lazily pumping his cock. And my god... is big.
I can only see the bottom half, from about mid-thigh up but that still gives me plenty to look at. I'm absolutely dripping wet now, it's getting harder and harder to walk normally, let alone quietly.
I carefully push the door wider, my greedy eyes just begging to see more of him. It was a bad idea on my part though, the door cracked and James' hand paused on his shaft as he glanced over at me in the doorway.
"Do you need something?" He asks innocently. The embarrassment quickly fades though as he continues rubbing his member. "I, uh... Well... I needed some water."
I said, doing my best to ignore the way his thick cock bobs around, my gaze stuck to it like glue. His brows furrow slightly, noticing my staring.
"Sorry, daddy.." I mumble. But before I can move away from the door, he beckons me closer. "I won't bite.." he teases softly. "Come here.." He motions me over again. Oh God..
How could I say no? He pats the empty spot beside him and I nervously crawl into bed next to him.
I scoot close, laying my head on his shoulder. He lays there, his hand slowly stroking himself, never breaking eye contact with me.
After an awkward moment of silence, he begins talking. "Are you sure you're not thirsty? I'd be happy to share some of this." He laughs and strokes his length faster, eliciting another groan from him.
"Daddy... I've never." I whimper softly.
"Never what?" He replies, placing his other hand on my hip, holding me against him. I continue gazing at his lap as he goes back to jerking off. "It's okay," he says reassuringly.
"Tell me whatever it is you want to say." He leans forward and places a chaste kiss to my forehead. "Daddy... I've never had sex..." I whisper, not wanting to meet his gaze, my cheeks burning.
"That's okay sweetie," He replied, his thumb rubbing my hip tenderly. "What about a handjob? That's nice and easy, and daddy will show you how" he offers, still lazily stroking the base.
"I don't know how.." I confess, biting my lip and glancing up at him. He lets out a deep, lustful growl. "Don't worry, sweetheart. You'll get it."
He whispers, taking hold of the base of his shaft and lifting it up to my face. I gingerly take it into my small hands, trembling at the feel of his skin.
I hesitate a minute, unsure of what to do next. "Just squeeze the head between your fingers and slide your hand down, squeezing tight all the way down."
He explains patiently, guiding my hand through the motions. "Like this?" I ask, copying his movements. He grunts approvingly. "Yeah baby, just like that."
I smile widely at his praise and continue pumping him, but now with much more confidence than before. He looks at me with adoration as I jerk his dick, watching my smaller hands grip him tightly. "Good girl."
He praises, thrusting his hips upward, forcing his dick deeper into my grasp. My own arousal grows rapidly as I see.
He praises, thrusting his hips upward, forcing his dick deeper into my grasp.
My own arousal grows rapidly as I see my hand pumping him like that, my pussy soaking the sheets beneath me.
His words keep pushing me further and further, driving me wild. "Oh fuck... That feels amazing... I love seeing those tiny little hands wrapped around me like that." He tells me, closing his eyes briefly.
"Your daddy loves you baby," he coos. I moan and lean down, licking my way up his length. He opens his eyes again when I reach the tip, letting out a hissing breath.
"You want to put your mouth on it, don't you?" He murmurs. I nod and plant my lips around the mushroomed head, swirling my tongue around it. I hear him suck in a sharp breath. "Fuck baby, that feels so good. "
He growls, leaning his head back. I lick the underside of the head eagerly, my throat going dry from anticipation." Your daddy wants to cum in your pretty little mouth. "
He commands. I smile and begin sliding my hand up and down his length, until my hand reaches his balls. I cup them gently and roll them around in my palms. "Yes baby, that's it. Rub those balls for me."
He moans, leaning his head back and staring down at me. I feel his heart racing as I squeeze his sack, eliciting a soft moan. "Keep stroking my cock. Let daddy fuck your pretty little mouth."
He groans and tilts his head back further, panting loudly. "Uh-huh, yes. That's it.' He encourages, sounding extremely turned on.
"Keep pumping that dick.' He gasps, leaning his head back farther. His hand grips the sheet tightly and I feel his legs tense up. "You ready for me to shoot in your mouth? All over your tongue and throat."
He asks seductively, his hips beginning to buck up. I nod, gripping him tighter.
"Oh god, yes." He growls, his breath catching in his throat. "Open up for daddy."
I open wide and stick out my tongue as far as possible, lapping at his swollen head. "That's right." He pants, humping my face as he closes his eyes.
"Oh fuck yes!" He cries out, his cock pulsating powerfully in my mouth, shooting rope after rope of hot, salty liquid down my throat. I swallow every drop, not wanting any to go to waste.
I continue jerking him off, milking his shaft until it stops spurting. When I'm finished, I look up at him with shining eyes. "Thank you daddy." I tell him lovingly, kissing the head of his deflating member.
He strokes my hair affectionately, smiling down at me. "No problem, princess." He answers, smirking.
"Anytime you need to cum, just let daddy know."
Tumblr media
118 notes · View notes