#Mood II swing

[fuchinobe]

(1996, Rhythm Republic, RR12-88024)

Remix by Mood II Swing

[priokskfm]

#MixOfDay #Podcast #Radioshow #LiveDjset Mood II Swing Tribute Mix 2 Really Excited to present 17 Incredible Tracks by Vastly Underrated House Legends Mood II Swing AKA John Ciafone & Lem Springsteen, in the mix. and featuring Classics by Ultra Nate, Lucy Pearl, Nuyorican Soul, King Britt & Loni Clark. Really Hope you like it, your support is Massively Appreciated and Big Love to you all xxxx Oldschool, "Classic House", "Mood II Swing", "Soulful House", "Funky House" www.priokskfm.online https://ift.tt/4cQ2eCf

[cloudy-em]

realizing i feel "better" on my new mood stabilizer not because it works but because it just hasn't gotten to the right dosage yet

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[bubbup]

Free(Mood II Swing-Original Radio Edit)-Ultra Nate

[redsleuthed]

i’m here but i’m also disassociating, so i’ll be in and out as i completely forget i exist in this world.

[northopalshore]

Moon in the

Juno Persona Chart

Juno asteroid (3) This post only applies to the Juno persona chart. The moon here tells you about how you connect with your future spouse or what emotional attachment you look for in an ideal relationship. It also tells you about how you feel & instinctively act throughout the progression of the relationship. This only applies when you are in the relationship.

୨୧ Please do not repost without consent ʕ⁠´⁠•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠`⁠ʔฅ🔉

In the signs, houses & degrees

🍪Aries (°1,°13,°25) @ The first house (I)

You may be rather erratic around them once you do get into a relationship however, a lack of patience may be a reoccurring theme as well. You may act rather childishly in the relationship i.e acting jealous, petty or even irrational at times around your person. You may show a lot of your "primal" emotional state one that isn't filtered or seen through rose coloured lenses. Both of you may have trouble expressing love in a traditional way i.e not completely comfortable being all lovey dovey or touchy feely at times, but it's not like it's completely void of that type of affection. Bickering just comes easier ^^".

Ex: My parents both have their Juno moon in an Aries degree (°1 & °13). Boy when I tell you these two are always arguing about something ( it's not really serious) but it's more like they both do not have any patience dealing with each other. They do not work well under pressure lmao. It's like little kids disagreeing with each other at times. Always trying to prove who's right and who's wrong. They don't hate each other, they just have a somewhat tsundere way of expressing their emotions to each other. It's funny, but also annoying looking at it from the perspective of their child.

🍪Taurus (°2,°14,°26) @ The second house (II)

You will feel very relaxed around your partner. You may have a sibling like dynamic where you may bicker and tease each other often, but it's not anywhere as "intense" as Aries. You won't be quick to anger, but there is a tendency to get rather lazy around your partner i.e wanting to stay home and do nothing all day. You may feel like your partner is your property in a way, wanting them to be just for you. You may also be rather sensitive to your partner's actions or habits. You are loyal, reliable & get very romantic around your partner.

🍪Gemini (°3,°15,°27) @ The third house (III)

You will likely feel like you're always on your toes around your partner. You may be required to think critically a lot, your partner may come to you for advice often therefore it's important for you to be or at least feel aware/awake. There is also a tendency to overreact (especially if in Aries/cancer degrees/houses). You will feel and act rather childishly as well, although not as hot headed as our Aries friend lol. Your expressions become more animated, and you're liking going to be more experimental in the relationship i.e want to explore or try new things with your partner.

🍪Cancer (°4,°16,°28) @ The fourth house (IV)

You are very, emotional with your partner. Acting more clingy around them or seeing them as your primary source of comfort. You are very affectionate with them, and may also tend to be dependant on them on certain things. You also have a tendency to mother them at times i.e taking care of their basic needs, listening to them rant and soothe their hearts / egos. You are also very sensitive to their mood swings especially, perhaps blaming yourself for things that go wrong even if the source of the problem isn't you. You also enjoy ranting to your partner.

🍪 Leo (°5,°17,°29) @ The fifth house (V)

You have a lot of love and adoration for your partner. You may be very flirty, and playful with them in the relationship. In your eyes, your partner is your only lover, wanting to feel adored and in some ways worshipped by them. Your partner's attention means the world to you, so you may get quite jealous when that attention is taken off of you. You are very generous when it comes to complimenting your partner. You feel good when you know you've made them happy and important. You may be quite dramatic too, displaying much playful exaggeration on a daily basis.

🍪 Virgo (°6,°18) @ The sixth house (VI)

You are the dependable, slightly erratic partner. The problem solver, but at the same time your critical nature can sometimes start disagreements within the relationship. Especially if your partner has more a "carefree" moon placement in their JPC. That being said you are extremely loyal as well, and you show that you love your partner by expressing your concern towards them. Whether that'd be by asking them about their day, or finding the smallest way to get closer to them on a daily basis. Showing them you care through your advice and recommendations. Their opinion means the world to you, and their dissatisfactions can ruin your whole day.

🍪 Libra (°7,°19) @ The seventh house (VII)

You will feel very comfortable around them. Something about them may make you feel balanced or more composed, and easygoing. It's a pleasant feeling that grows lovelier with time. You may strive to keep a sense of equity in the relationship, not wanting your partner to be the only one carrying the burden in the relationship. For the most part, you will not engage in petty rivalry or disagreements when something hurtful does arise you are able to tackle it with a fair judgement. Though, there is a tendency to sweep certain things under the rug just so you do not hurt your partner. Very flirty, and you'll always have your partner in mind, no matter what you're doing.

🍪 Scorpio (°8,°20) @ The eighth house (VIII)

You are very, and I mean very protective of your partner. You may love keeping them close to you often, especially when you're out together. You get possessive, and jealousy very easily in the relationship. However, you also give your all to your partner. Giving them the time of day and all the attention they may need. You may develop a strong attachment to them almost as if they are your property lmao. Your connection will be anything but shallow, as you desire to melt into your partner, sharing everything you have i.e secrets, fears and promises. So you can sort of see why you'll be protective in the first place. Your person is your true safe space & that is something you never wish to share.

🍪 Sagittarius (°9,°21) @ The ninth house (IX)

This is also a sign that you'll feel comfortable around them. Conversations come naturally, although there may this feeling that you should be guiding them or something similar to Virgo/the 6th house, but here you're more of a mentor. Perhaps you will feel like your partner is very playful or supportive (or they may look like they need to lighten up). Perhaps their presence always has a way of lightening your mood. There's this friendly chemistry between you that will make you keeping want more of them. You are the mood maker of the household, wanting the energy to be bright and optimistic.

🍪 Capricorn (°10,°22) @The tenth house (X)

In this relationship, you will feel very stable. Your emotional state depends on whether you have your shit together, if your partner is well & if you're able to provide for them. Perhaps you feel like you have a sort of status to uphold as well. You want them to see you as someone mature & dependable. That you aren't looking to play around. You may have trouble expressing your emotions to them completely, as you'd rather be the person that they come to for support. You also display a lot of patience & restraint when met with turbulence or disagreements in the relationship. Though it may make you seem rather dry at times even if you aren't. Your partner is the only lover you see. However, there may be control issues that arise as well on your part.

🍪 Aquarius (°11,°23) @The eleventh house (XI)

You'll feel quite uninhibited in your relationship. Being able to express yourself however you want, whenever you want. You allow both yourself & your partner emotional independence, and jealousy is not really an issue when it comes to you (depends on the sign/house/degree it's in as well) as you do not feel the need to question your partner's loyalty. You may come to intellectualize your emotions to some degree in your relationship. Perhaps you will be more sentimental about your connections, and society as well. Somehow thinking of the effects your relationship may have to those around you. Being in this relationship may make you unconsciously think of others.

🍪 Pisces (°12,°24) @ The twelfth house (XII)

This placement can be tricky, there are two sides of this coin. On one side, you will feel extremely connected with your FS/SO you will be especially patient and forgiving of your person, spiritually you may feel like you are one in the same and that your love can triumph all that opposes. For the most part, it's fine. You are loving, kind and very attentive to your person's emotional well-being or state. However, there may be a tendency to act based on favoritism i.e how you want to interpret things. In reality, you may be quite disconnected with your person not being able to see their worries or concerns. Still, it does not diminish your affection for your person. There is this sense of longing for your partner even if they are right next to you. You partners feelings will feel like an extension of your own.

Thank you for reading!

@northopalshore

@northopalshore Juno 2024 all rights reserved. Disclaimer

[wileys-russo]

Hello writer , hope you are doing well

Missing my little star pollito , so a prompt for her pollito with mapi / barca team in team bonding night at mapi and ingrid apartment "move, you're on my side of the couch."

part of the pollito universe and also a little collab with @woso-dreamzzz OC 'mignon' because i got a few asks for it! my side II barça femeni

you perked up as alexia parked in mapi and ingrid's complex, but before you could even touch the door handle you heard the locks click and groaned, collapsing back into your seat.

"now you two-" alexia began an infamous lecture, your french counterpart sat in the front seat after winning the fight for it even though she fought dirty and hid your phone so she could sneak out to the car first.

"-will be on our very best behaviour, we promise." mignon piped up with a charming smile, alexia glancing backward to look at you and narrowing her eyes at the near identical look on your face as you nodded your enthusastic agreement.

"we ran all of our energy out at training capi." you paused to fake an overly dramatic yawn, stretching your arms backward and exhaling making mignon snicker and alexia hum through pursed lips.

"pollito did anyway after all those extra laps." the girl smirked as your smile dropped and you leaned forward to try and smack her, alexia catching your wrist easily in her hand with a fierce glare.

"this is what i mean! pareja de idiotas." alexia warned as you pulled your wrist away, sneakily using your other hand to dart through the small gap between the door and the chair to pinch your best friends hips as she jolted as if shocked by lightning.

"pollito!" alexia sighed, rubbing her face with her hands as you sheltered your body from the two arms flailing about trying to grab at you.

"oye why do you not stop her! first she is allowed to live by herself and i am not, and now she can hit me but i cannot hit her?" you accused, hissing as the french girl landed a sharp smack on your shin and cursing at her in spanish.

"we are not having this argument again. out! both of you." alexia raised her voice as the pair of you started to bicker, the locks clicking once more as the two of you practically fell out of the car and alexia mumbled a prayer under her breath, locking up and hurrying after the two of you into the building.

she could finally exhale as ingrid answered the door and the two of you shot inside and made a beeline for the other younger girls on the team, the monthly team game night already in full swing as you three were the last to arrive it would seem.

ingrid gave her captain a knowing smile as she welcomed her inside with a hug, closing the door as alexia made her way around with greetings, as she always did as such a natural leader, wanting all of the newer players to feel welcome.

you and mignon on the other hand hadn't bothered, you tackling vicky into a hug which had rapidly turned into the two of you rolling about on the floor wrestling and mignon chattering away to jana.

mapi stood up and let out a piercing whistle which had everyone paying attention and some grumbling with hands over their ears, the zaragozana grinning happily at the mixed reaction she received.

announcing everyone was going to eat before any games started mapi barely finished speaking before everyone was already charging toward the kitchen where ingrid and frido had started dishing up.

not having eaten anything since training you were near ravenous, having chosen to take a well needed nap as soon as you got home, not even making it all the way to bed as you passed out on the couch and woke up to olga telling alexia off for over working you.

to be fair, you'd earned the extra laps she pushed you to do after training, you and mapi having tied everyones boots together when you arrived early before everyone else after mapi took you out for a coffee as the pair of you did every friday.

however your good food fueled mood halted as you arrived back to the couch and found mignon sat in your spot, which she clearly knew given the grin she gave you as your eyes narrowed.

"move, you're on my side of the couch." you warned firmly, cata oohing from where she sat on mignons other side as the french woman shook her head. "no, snooze you lose." she parroted as you pulled a face.

"who taught you that!" you scoffed as the girl nodded toward kika and your eyes rolled. "move, you know thats my side." you repeated again, having claimed the spot as yours from the moment you first came to visit mapi and ingrid.

"no." "déplacer!" you huffed in french now making her grin widen. "no."

"vale." you seemed to give in, sighing and moving to put your plate down on the table as if to sit on the floor, alexia catching your eye across the room and recognizing the look on your face all too well which the girl sat in your spot hadn't quite seen yet.

"pollito-" you heard the catalan call out sternly as she started toward you but it was too late as you let out a war cry and charged, cata's keeper instincts kicking in as she leapt to grab mignons plate milliseconds before you landed on her.

the thump alerted half the team to the scuffle as you managed to drag the slightly taller ex lyon player out of your spot, trying to claw your way back to reclaim it but her hand grabbed the back of your hoodie and yanked you down.

"jusqu'au français!" you hollered in french, teetering on top of mignon before you let out a squeal and she'd thrown you off, alexia's eyes wide as saucers as neither you or mignon had noticed but your head missed the corner of the coffee table by centimetres.

"hey hey capi! my house, i will handle it." mapi appeared in front of alexia who was still charging her way over, dodging and weaving between the multitude of bodies scattered across the floor.

"but-" "no no, you go sit down, eat." mapi assured, patting her best friends shoulder and waving off her concerns, alexia hovering back as the spaniard turning on heel and marched her way over to the pair of you.

you grunted as a hand grabbed the back of your neck, hauling you off of the girl you'd been rolling around with, holding you back as mapi cleared her throat and both you and mignon paused.

"if the pair of you want to fight-" you sighed, bracing yourself to be kicked out or worse embarrassed into a timeout like a nughty child, however the lecture you and mignon expected never came.

"you will do it properly. i will be the referee and keep it fair, which means no spitting, no punching, no arm bars, no biting-" alexia sighed deeply and buried her face in her hands as irene patted her back.

"-now place your bets chicas, fight starts in five! francia contra españa!"

[ekkkkey]

there will be games! (chapter II)

summary: Cassandra, a quiet and loyal wife to the much older Senator Tiberius, accidentally attracts the unsettling attention of Emperor Caracalla at a lavish feast hosted by Senator Thraex...

warnings: 18+ minors dni, noncon, dub-con, non-consensual drug use, when the emperor is a bit insane, mommy issues, daddy issues, every kind of issues—this little shit has them all (he’s so cute)

word count: 5k words

chapter I

«No woman could feel safe if her beauty or name aroused the emperor's curiosity.»

-Suetonius, The Twelve Caesars (Caligula, Chapter 36)

⋆ ⋆ ☼ ⋆ ⋆

She didn't want to get out of bed, didn't want to leave their room, all she wanted was to go home. Not to their new villa in Rome, not even to her husband's old house. Cassandra longed for her childhood home, with her father and sisters, where she could always be the little girl.

"You're an early bird today," Tiberius said, waking and stretching towards her.

Her heart skipped, her palms sweaty with worry.

"Those who apologize properly deserve forgiveness, don't they, little bird?" - another voice, deceptively tender but promising nothing good, echoed in her mind.

Cassandra wrapped herself tighter in the sheet, licking her lips, hiding her body from her husband, not wanting his touch.

"I slept poorly. And I don't feel well. When will we return home?"

Tiberius got up, his brief morning tenderness replaced by his usual sour mood.

"When the games end. Not before. I've got business."

Normally gentle and shy, she never argued with him, but this time, she tossed the sheet aside and jumped up, chasing after him, desperate to talk face-to-face. Her hands shook. She pictured herself – pale, nervous, dark circles under her eyes, hair a mess, more like a madwoman than a loving wife. Ashamed of her sudden anger, Cassandra covered up again.

"I feel awful, I'm nauseous, could it be a child, Tiberius?" she tried to elicit some sympathy, pressing her hand to her stomach.

She couldn't stand another moment in the palace.

"Tell me, wife, what troubles you so much?" - he took a step forward. She had never truly feared him, but suddenly realized that after yesterday, both he disgusted her and she feared him. It was his fault! Everything that happened to her was his fault!

"I'm really not well."

"And where better than the emperor's palace to find a good physician?"

Realizing her words were futile, she slumped back on the bed's edge, and Tiberius knelt in front of her, resting his cheek against her leg.

"The emperor," he began, "Emperor Caracalla, he's ill. His mind is rotting, just like his body, so you won't find better physicians here. Should I call someone for you?"

Cassandra couldn't breathe, pulling away from her husband, standing up in a daze, not caring about her nudity. Even when servants walked in, she didn't cover up, lost in dark thoughts.

Emperor Caracalla's mind was afflicted by a disease? What kind of disease? She knew nothing about medicine and couldn't even guess. Did this make him more dangerous, or was his nature already cruel and violent? His smirking face flashed in her mind, his mood swings, his smile turning to a sneer...

Cassandra flinched when someone touched her from behind. She quickly scolded herself.

"Stop, he won't burst into your chambers while you're with your husband!" - she repeated, but she didn't believe it, if he wanted, he'd take her right in front of Tiberius, and no one would stop him.

She spent the entire morning trying to comfort herself, but her anxiety only grew. First, Tiberius noticed the purple bite on her skin. She managed to excuse it, saying he'd had too much wine and hadn't been gentle with her in bed. He believed her.

She was horrified again when the slave girls began to dress her.

"This isn't my clothing!" - the fabrics were too vivid and fine, and they...they smelled of aromatic oils and powder.

"Not yours, true, but we'll be here for some time, and until your clothes arrive from the villa, you need something to wear, don't you?" her husband murmured, looking at her like a piece of art. "You can't just walk around naked, can you?"

She would have preferred to parade through the palace entirely naked rather than willingly wear the clothes and jewels Caracalla had sent her, fully aware of how pleased he would be. Yet, the problem was, her nude debut would have left him equally pleased.

The stands were louder than ever, and only when they entered the imperial box did she understand why. The Colosseum was flooded!

They were late due to her distraction and sluggishness; if she had her way, they wouldn't have come at all, but there she was, seated behind Lucilla once again.

Despite the excitement of the ship battles, the clanging of metal, her eyes kept falling on the red-haired head before her.

Neither emperor acknowledged their arrival, too absorbed in the spectacle, and while Geta later gave her husband a nod of recognition, Caracalla didn't even turn around. Anger simmered in her chest. For him, last night was nothing, but for her...For her, it had haunted her all night and morning. All her thoughts were trapped in those wretched, humiliating moments.

Why did he seem to have forgotten while she, cursedly, remembered every touch? Remembered his hands were soft and hot, his scent sweet, almost intoxicating... And, of course, she remembered the bitter humiliation from his words, from how he touched her, and that Emperor Geta had watched it all.

Cassandra pressed hard on her palm where the wound was healing, trying to push away the memories. She wouldn't let him occupy her mind as well.

Yet, she couldn't relax, pandemonium broke out in the box when the ships came too close and an arrow hit the column between the emperors' chairs. The last thing she heard before Tiberius pulled her out was Emperor Geta's piercing scream.

The palace was buzzing with unbearable noise, the feast meant for evening had transitioned into the day, though the servants were not fully prepared.

Cassandra stood by a column, wine cup in hand. Her husband had left her again, off with General Acacius. The emperors were nowhere to be seen, nor were most of the Senate.

"How many do you think will be executed today?" she heard a quiet female whisper.

"I wouldn't be surprised if the emperor ordered all the gladiators on the field to be gutted," another voice answered, "you know how he is, insatiable!" A burst of giggling followed, and Cassandra stopped listening, embarrassed by the direction of their conversation.

She understood that for many, winning the emperors’ favor was a dream. But for her? She was a married woman who had spent her youth cultivating a sense of duty, loyalty, and responsibility. Why, then, had the gods abandoned her? Faithful and devoted as she was, they had thrown her to their earthly incarnations to be torn apart.

"More wine, domina?" a slave girl dutifully refilled her goblet.

The girl was young, dark-skinned, and beautiful, with large, intelligent eyes. Cassandra noticed the gilded collar around her slender neck and suddenly felt an invisible, soft, and hot hand squeezing her own throat. In a rush, she took a large gulp, wincing at the bitter taste, then handed the cup back.

"No more, thank you," she said, licking her lips nervously, knowing she wouldn't find peace in this cacophony.

"Are you not well, domina?" the girl asked, worry in her voice.

"I just...I need some time alone," she muttered quickly, stepping away from the column, only to stagger and clutch her head. What was happening to her?

"Do you want me to take you somewhere quiet, domina? You can rest and come back later," the girl didn't wait for an answer, guiding her by the elbow out of the room. Such audacity from a slave was unheard of, but Cassandra was too rattled and her head was spinning.

"Where are we going?"

They navigated past the throne room into a small, almost secretive chamber. The ceiling wasn't as high, the columns much less grand, the lighting dim and gloomy, and in the center stood a white altar, adorned with gold. In her parents' home, next to her room, there was a similar one, much more modest, of course, but dear to her heart, where she had prayed to her late mother.

"Wait outside," the words were both a sentence for her and an order for the slave.

She wanted to scream. Of course, he was here. No one was to be trusted, even the slave's kindness was a trap—cruel and painful. Was she truly nothing more than a prisoner here, a powerless plaything to entertain the young emperor?

Every time she saw him, he seemed like a different person. He was dressed in black and gold, with a golden laurel crown and an earring. Gold, gold, gold! She despised its gleam, for in it, she saw him.

Huddled against the wall, she stood frozen, afraid to move. The emperor did seem different this time—melancholic and contemplative. His pale eyes were unusually clear and sober as they met hers.

"What did you tell your husband?" His voice was different too: calm, measured. That made it all the more terrifying. Cassandra couldn’t read his mood from his face.

"Nothing, Caesar," she whispered, afraid to speak louder, as if his calm depended on it.

Caracalla turned to the altar, studying it as if seeing it for the first time. She held her breath, watching the golden laurel shimmer in the torchlight.

"Come closer."

His tone was pensive, his light brows furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line. The moment she stepped closer, the emperor’s gaze shifted to her. It slid from her neck, lower, along the colorful tunic she wore.

"My mother used to wear this," he said. To her surprise, his right hand was bare of rings as he brushed the fabric over her chest lightly, almost tenderly. His eyes stayed locked on hers.

Though still afraid, it felt different from yesterday. Worse.

Why had he forced her to come here? Why had he dressed her in the clothes of his dead mother? Cassandra cast a desperate glance at the door, but he noticed immediately. The corner of his mouth twitched.

"She often came here," he continued, "prayed to the gods," his words were vague, her thoughts growing heavier, "do you pray often?"

"Yes, Emperor," she replied, though her mind was growing heavier, duller, as though lulled into a haze that numbed her fear.

"When was the last time?"

The conversation was bizarre, so unlike what had happened the night before. Feeling almost drunk, she answered without thinking, and that's when everything started to spiral.

"Today, when that arrow almost hit you," she said, breathing heavily, it was hot, like under the midday sun, "I prayed for the next one to hit."

Her tormented mind knew he would kill her now. That Caracalla would carry out his threats, destroy her and her family. But instead, he laughed.

Grinning, he patted her shoulder as if she’d told an excellent joke. Then the sharp pain of his hand striking her cheek brought her back to reality. He had slapped her! Tears welled in her eyes, her lips trembling, but she didn’t have time to cry. The emperor grabbed her face, squeezing her jaw painfully.

"You did drink it, didn't you? That wine they brought you?" Caracalla whispered, his voice low as he leaned closer, still holding her face. "Oh, you did! I can see it. Your dilated pupils, that empty stare, struggling to think straight, hard to control your tongue? I get it," in a mock tender gesture, he caressed the cheek he'd just slapped, "for those words, your pretty head should be on a spike outside the palace, shouldn't it? But you know the rules, if you apologize properly, I forgive."

With his thumb, he drew circles on her reddened cheek, moved to her lips, tracing their outline, forcing her to open her mouth by pressing down.

"You understand now, don’t you? The aphrodisiac in the wine you drank," he pushed his finger inside, making her lips encircle it, "I wanted to play differently, but..." his face twisted with anger, "everything went terribly wrong."

Her already rapid heartbeat quickened further, she whimpered helplessly, wanting to cry. He had made her take the drug and was now exploiting her helplessness, shamelessly tormenting her mouth.

"You should say thank you, shouldn’t you? Or did you enjoy last night more? Shall I call my brother?" he chuckled, once again reverting to his usual self.

Caracalla released her face but immediately pinned her against the altar, tilting his head up and gazing at her from beneath his lowered lashes, as if admiring her, smiling.

The torchlight reflected in his eyes, his tongue flicked between his red lips in anticipation. His hand caressed her shoulder, then he removed the pin holding the fabric.

"Did the old senator fail to notice that his dear little wife isn't really his anymore?" he sneered, his fingers trailing down to the mark he'd bitten into her skin the night before, pressing down, aiming to cause as much discomfort as possible. Caracalla's breath grew heavier, his eyes followed every flicker of emotion on her face, every slight movement she made.

"I told him it was his fault... that he drank too much..." The confession fell from her lips without thought, her mind too clouded to hold it back.

"Ah! How unfortunate, and once again, the Senate takes credit for the emperor's work! But you'll comfort me, won't you?" His lips were so close, she felt his hot, uneven breath, saw his pupils, as black as hers, the smeared shadows making his eyes feverishly gleam with madness. Her gaze only darted down to his lips for a moment... and he pressed against her, pulling her into a kiss.

His hands seize her waist, gripping and tormenting, not just her body but her very soul. If she could cry, she would, but there's no energy left, only his greedy, hot mouth. To her, a kiss was something far more intimate, far more sacred than carnal union, promising tenderness and love...And even that he steals from her, kissing her shamelessly, wetly, pressing so hard she feels his hardness against her thigh.

"Let's continue our lovely conversation," he pulls back, his mouth trailing down to her neck, kissing and biting, "tell me, did Tiberius ever get you this wet?" His hand slides between her legs, rubbing through the fabric. "Even once?"

"No," she whimpers, trying to close her legs.

"Keep acting innocent, and I'll call the Praetorians to keep your legs spread wide, is that what you want?" his rough whisper burns her ear, his earring brushing her lips.

Cassandra shook her head, public humiliation was something she couldn't handle.

"Good. Obedient and well-behaved, just as a respectable matron should be," he purrs, his hand lazily caressing, more relishing her embarrassment than her body, "if you want, you can call me your husband!"

His sharp laugh slices through the narrow room.

"Undress," he commanded, his laughter gone, "I'm not going to fuck you in my mother's clothes, am I?"

She thought after all the pain, the threats, the violence, he couldn't hurt her more, but each time, it still cuts deep. With trembling hands, she hurriedly sheds her tunic, then her undergarments, laying them out as treasures, while he watches. His gaze is fixed, nostrils flaring, Cassandra sees him stroking himself under his tunic. Her cheeks burn, her clouded mind finally grasps it - he's going to take her right here, in this holy place, before ancestors and gods. Her soul will be damned, even in death!

"Touch yourself, feel how wet you are," his voice is husky, breathless, "you should be grateful to me for that, shouldn't you? That's what I've been talking about."

Head bowed, she slides her fingers between her legs, horror dawning as she realizes he's right. But why? The drug? The notion that he aroused her with his aggressive kisses, his sharp bites, his lewd whispers, she dismisses in disgust. She didn't want him, she hated him!

Seeing her shock, Caracalla broke into a smile, fully aware of her thoughts. Abandoning his arousal, the emperor circled her nipple with his thumb, watching it harden under his touch.

"It's not surprising your husband doesn't stir your passions, look at yourself," his hand traces down her body, over her breasts, stomach, to her mound, pausing again between her legs, "you're more his daughter than his wife!"

His fingers gather her moisture, rubbing, making her despise her body's response.

"So, will you take your emperor?" he asks, not for permission but to keep the game going.

She can only nod, there's no other choice.

"Say it out loud," Caracalla whispers raggedly, pushing his fingers deep inside her. Now she understands why he took off his rings.

"Yes, Caesar, I'll take whatever you give me," with those words, the last vestiges of her pride are smashed, her genuine compassion and naivety destroyed.

He takes her with a sudden, harsh thrust, only to slow down to a lazy, almost indulgent rhythm. The air is stifling, hot; sweat drips down her thighs. The only sounds are the crackle of the torch, his ragged breathing, and the vulgar, wet slaps of skin meeting skin.

As if to disgrace her further, he grips the back of her neck, forcing her to look into his eyes as he picks up the pace again. Here he is—the protector and father of his people—bestowing his gifts. He's still clothed, no need to undress; the chain around his neck jingles with each movement, his crown slipping forward.

"Doesn’t this feel good, sweetling? Don’t you feel good?"

"Cassandra," she whispers, "my name is Cassandra."

He stops, looking at her with surprise, as if seeing her for the first time.

"Is it really that important for me to know your name, Cassandra?" he teases, playfully biting her earlobe. "Has the little wife fallen in love?"

How could he think that? Anger surges within her. Her attempt to claim some dignity crumbles! But her thoughts vanish as he thrusts into her sharply, fully, making her gasp and dig her nails into his shoulders. It’s the first time she’s touched him willingly. Her simple gesture spurred him on even more, forcing a quiet whimper from her as she buried her face in his shoulder.

"Next time your senator fucks you, think of me, little bird, understand?" his whisper turns into a moan. She's mesmerized by his parted red lips, his light lashes fluttering, his chest heaving. A few rough thrusts later, his grip on her waist loosens, and his seed floods within her.

He lets her go, adjusting his clothes, his breathing still heavy, but his gaze has changed. Having gotten what he wanted, Caracalla loses interest.

"If you're lucky, my seed will take root, and you'll give your husband an heir!" he chuckles, playfully flicking her nose as if she were a pet. "The wench will help you dress, don't forget, there’s a feast to attend!"

Caracalla leaves her, trembling, bare, and shattered. Tears finally come, and without strength, she slides down the wall, hugging herself. The worst is the sticky feeling between her thighs he left behind. If she were to conceive...

"Domina, you shouldn't sit like this, please stand, I'll help you," the slave girl who brought her here shows no emotion, no trace of sympathy in her eyes.

"Leave me!"

"Staying here is not an option, one must respect the dead," the girl nods at the inscription on the altar.

"Lucius Septimius Severus"

He had defiled her beside his father's ashes! Now, she lets her sobs escape freely.

⋆ ⋆ ☼ ⋆ ⋆

Hey! Thank you so much for the sweet feedback on the last chapter, I didn’t expect so many people to like my work, I’m really grateful! 💋 I promise the next chapter will be up faster (but it also depends on how this one does, your feedback means a lot to me and really inspires me).

[pshcomforts]

➳ only | psh. — requested

idol!sunghoon x fem!reader

“be my only one”

synopsis: you get your period on an unexpected day, and find your boyfriend, park sunghoon, a little more annoying than usual when he comes home early from practice.

warnings/content: written in third pov. slightly angsty but more fluffy fluff! sunghoon’s down bad <3 and reader has a lot of mood swings. reader’s a little mean. not proofread (i’m sorry if it’s bad).

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

word count: 1.9k

a/n: message request. — this was a little rushed so i’m sorry if it’s not that good </3

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

current song playing: only by leehi

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

1:40 ─────────|────────── -2:19

“are you kidding me?” y/n annoyingly huffed at the sight in front of her.

her stomach furiously grumbled as she sighed and reached for a pad in the cabinet drawer.

“i actually started.., great!” she sarcastically beamed with an eye roll to herself, ignoring the small amount of pads left.

a quick change of undergarments was made in the bathroom, making her feel ever so slightly better about starting her period.

the girl left the bathroom and almost instantly, was hit with a mound of cramps. her hands quickly clenched onto her abdomen, face scrunching in pain while trying to find some sort of pain killer.

swiftly, she downed the pills as if her life depended on it, all while getting a text notification in the process. her head peeked over and found her boyfriend’s messages.

hoonie 🫂:

Hey gorgeous, you there?

Text me back, I’m bored at practice ㅋㅋㅋ

a slight eye roll was taken from y/n, and she was sure she could blame her period for it, but she was annoyed for no reason.

she did feel bad for feeling this way because sunghoon didn’t even do anything wrong but, the girl just started, could you blame her?

she softly grumbled out a sigh, responding to not make him worry.

after sending a message, she shut her phone off, pouting in defeat of the discomfort that took over her body.

“maybe a nap will help..,”

her body laid down on the couch and within seconds, she was out like a light.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

the day was ending soon, and with his busy schedule, sunghoon was still far from coming home (or so she thought).

y/n had awoken from her nap hours ago but in all, it didn’t help.

if anything, it just made her more grouchy than before; and sunghoon would have to deal with that soon.

or much sooner.

the doorknob quickly rustled as if someone was fighting it, confusing the girl on the opposing side before it creaked open to her boyfriend.

“hoonie?? why are you here?” her brows raised to depict her puzzled look, causing a light chuckle to deplete out of him.

“i just missed you, baby.” his low voice murmured out, lips curling into a hot grin.

maybe it was her hormones, but the way he played out that smile had her replay it in her head multiple times.

“didn’t you miss me?” sunghoon croaked out.

and just like that, her love for the boy disappeared.

not entirely, but her hormones pushed her to be more annoyed than gushy.

y/n shook her head, turning away instead of hugging her boyfriend who was longing for it after all day.

hoon gave a faint grin, mind almost catching onto her reasoning.

“come on, y/n, don’t leave me like that.” his hands snaked around her waist, emitting butterflies while she only shook her head.

“not right now, hoon,” she firmly mewled out.

‘so grumpy today,’ he mindlessly said in his own head.

“what’s wrong, baby?” his voice was low, sending shivers down her spine as she simply huffed out a sigh.

“i started my period, hoon. my cramps are hurting me.”

y/n didn’t hear a peep out of the boy until a soft chuckle slipped in through her ears.

“you know..,” sunghoon caught up to her, letting his hands wrap around her waist to pull her in. “i actually left practice early because my stomach was hurting. i think i might be a little sick..”

his grip attempted to tighten around her but she pushed his hands away with a small whine.

“that’s not funny hoon, i’m really in pain here.”

the girl crossed her arms with slightly furrowed brows, indicating that she wasn’t liking any of this teasing mess that she usually liked.

“gorgeous, i swear.. i’m not…,”

she watched her boyfriend clench onto his stomach with a scrunched face.

“hoonie, you better not be messing with me.” she murmured in a displeased look.

sunghoon gave a faint grin at her words. “i’m not, but maybe a little kiss will make me feel better?”

his lips puckered and he slightly leaned in, expecting an easy and simple kiss — only to hear a quiet scoff slip by his girl’s lips.

you know the feeling when you get grossed out by everything and anything when you’re on your period? yeah, y/n got that.

she quickly turnt her head, dodging the kiss.

“y/n.. come on,” sunghoon whined, pouty lips going on display again. “i need a kiss to feel better.”

she groaned out a sigh whilst looking at her handsome boyfriend. he was gorgeous, but the upset feeling still fueled her mood swings.

“don’t make fun of my cramps,” she murmured, walking away to the room with tears filling her eyes.

her emotions were out of the place because she started her period, could you blame her for tearing up?

sunghoon huffed out a sigh as he watched his girlfriend leave the scene before feeling his tummy gurgle again.

he whimpered in slight pain, holding his stomach as he slumped down on the couch.

“i really wanted that kiss,” the male cutely pouted to himself, resting in the living room to give y/n space.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

a few hours after their little spat, the girl escaped from their bedroom and into the bathroom to do a pad change — only to encounter the worst.

no more pads.

a groan escaped from her lips as her head dropped low in defeat.

sunghoon watched her leave the bathroom and walk up to him with her lips formed into a thin line, displaying her awkward smile.

“hoonie?”

“yeah, pretty girl?”

“ineedpads,” she quickly muffled out, causing a chortle to erupt out of him.

“slower, y/n, i barely understood that.” he flashed a wide grin at her, almost making her fold at his attractive feature.

“i.. need pads.”

“are you still mad at me?” hoon lightly teased, fangs shining in his charming smile.

“no… i just need pads..,” her head dropped low in shame as she tried to not let her mood swings get the best of her. “please, sunghoon.”

the boy attempted to bite back his smile at the little plead she let out, but how could he deny his girlfriend?

she was his weakness.

“come on, let’s go.”

he stood up, grasping her hands and leaving the apartment to head to the convenience store.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

arriving upon the store, y/n hurriedly ran to the hygiene section while hoon chuckled in his hidden mask and hovered hoodie, searching for various snacks.

her eyes scanned through each brand, looking for the right one before finding it.

“here it is!” she quietly beamed to herself, walking around to finally search for her boyfriend.

she soon reached the medicine aisle where sunghoon stood, a few heated pads and tasty treats loved by his girl were in his hands while looking for ibuprofen.

her heart melted at the sight. every small thing she found slightly annoying of him because of her period was gone in an instant.

she couldn’t have asked for a better boyfriend.

y/n opened her mouth to call his name but figured she probably shouldn’t with his famous background of being an idol, so she walked over to him instead.

but when she found the bottle of ibuprofen in his hands already, she found herself worried and confused.

‘is he really sick?’ her concerned eyes scanned his hidden face that was still focused on the sight in front of him.

“hey,” she softly poked his forearm. “are you really sick?”

sunghoon turned to his girlfriend who was deemed bothered at his state of health.

“i’m okay, gorgeous, my stomach just kind of hurts.”

he tried to laugh it off but y/n only furrowed her brows. “why didn’t you tell me that your stomach was actually upset?”

the boy huffed out another laugh before giving a soft ruffle at her hair. “it’s okay, you were upset so i didn’t want to bother you even more.”

not letting her respond, his hands grasped onto hers to lead her towards the cashier as she quietly fumed to herself, feeling guilty.

sunghoon thanked the employee before exiting out of the store with his favorite person, finally walking home.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

throughout the entire walk, y/n stayed quiet to herself, replaying how she completely dismissed his pain because of hers.

when they got to their apartment, sunghoon quietly sighed.

“okay, baby, what’s wrong?” he softly asked with the bag still in his hands.

“i’m sorry..,” she quietly peeped, turning around with her head down in shame — gaining a laugh to come from him.

“why are you sorry, y/n? you didn’t do anything.”

he approached the sad girl, lifting her head up with his hands pushing her cheeks to look at him. he found her with tears already streaming down and he couldn’t help but feel a gush of love over his heart.

“i’m sorry i didn’t take your stomach ache seriously, i don’t know why i did that..,”

sunghoon’s inner lips curled at her words. “y/n, it’s okay, you started your period, i understand.”

“shut up sunghoon! it’s not okay! and now i’m crying and i don’t know why i’m crying!” she fumed, letting her tears drop more. “and now you’re in more pain because of me!”

her hands fisted, softly hitting his shoulders out of instinct as he laughed to himself, heart warming at her little guilt.

“y/n,” he called, but she ignored him, not meeting his gaze.

a sigh left his throat as he continued, “gorgeous, can you please look at me?”

hesitantly, the girl raised her head and immediately felt his lips peck hers.

“i’m okay, okay? yes, my stomach hurts but i got medicine for a reason. i’ll be okay,” he pressed another kiss onto her nose temple, hearing her breath hitch as he grinned once more.

y/n softly pouted, pushing him away out of instinct. “i’m still sorry... so.., i’m gonna make you some rice porridge so you can feel better.”

she walked away to the kitchen, wiping her last tears before feeling his hands snake around her waist like earlier.

“you’d make me feel better, you know that?” sunghoon whispered into her ears as his height towered over hers.

“rice porridge would, actually, so sit down and wait until it’s done.”

“but i want cuddles,” he pouted, thumbs rubbing around her stomach area.

“you are sick because you get clingy when you do.”

his head dug further into her shoulders, taking in her scent he loved so much while chuckling.

“you know me so well.”

“i do, now will you please go wait on the couch? i want you to rest.”

she turned to face him, only to find the boy with his usual pouty lips.

“i want you to rest too, you know?”

he beamed an ear-to-ear grin before she playfully rolled her eyes.

“i know, hoonie, but you’re the sick one.”

“but-“

“wait on the couch until the rice porridge is done, and then we can cuddle all you want okay?” she intruded, letting him sigh in defeat.

sunghoon returned himself on the sofa, allowing his girlfriend to take care of him like she wanted.

after a few more fusses, the night eventually ended with the two concluding that hoon had gotten food poisoning.

so after connecting the dots of how, they ended up falling asleep on the furniture in each others arms — both snuggly fit as they were already feeling better in the presence of each other.

✩ ‘my only one’ ✩

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

[priokskfm]

#MixOfDay #Podcast #Radioshow #LiveDjset DJ Pete Williams (Natural Rhythm) - Exclusive mix for Manuscript records radioshow #485 Please donate to my family paypal in Ukraine promos.vincent.inc@gmail.com ♥♥♥♥ A special thanks to our patrons, without their financial support, this project wouldn't be possible ♥♥♥♥ https://ift.tt/Mw1hiEd https://ift.tt/yNtsc7Y https://ift.tt/v3poB2F https://ift.tt/tfl5hnm https://ift.tt/ylMTAHD oxia, mendo, other2sides, "jackin house dj mix", "chicago house dj mix", "house music dj mix", "deep house dj mix", "lil mark", "lil' mark", "jr from dallas", "sonz of the pitch", "mikey v", "max porcelli", "luke solomon", "dj sneak", "the outfit", "darko janevski", "miss mee", "kinky movement", "bas ibellini", "joss moog", "eric gadd", "Mood II swing", "demarkus lewis", "mass digital", "justin harris", "dirty sole", "dj heather", "my system echo" www.priokskfm.online https://ift.tt/WXfVvYD

[littlexdeaths]

scotty doesn’t know - e.m. ii.

eddie munson x fem reader

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: all characters are 18+, some angst, no use of y/n, cheating, protective eddie, shitty boyfriend behavior, unwanted touches/advances, underage drinking/partying, grinding, fingering, light praise kink, biting, unprotected piv sex, cream pie

series masterlist

based on scotty doesn’t know by lustra

a/n: god i feel like this took me forever, so apologies for that. but i just need to thank both @undead-supernova and @xxbimbobunnyxx for helping me so much with getting this fic put back together. i love you both so so much. 🥹💕

word count: 8.3k

Out of all the places you wanted to be on a Friday night, Jason Carver’s house wasn’t one of them.

The party was in full swing, music blasting from the speakers in the living room. Red solo cups and beer cans littered every available surface, as your classmates drank without a care in the world. Between the loud, synthy pop music and the constant chattering, you felt incredibly overwhelmed.

Parties were never really your scene.

You wanted nothing more than to go home and put on a film for the night. But dating a popular basketball player brought you out of your comfort zone more often than not. While that could be seen as a good thing, it was the opposite in this case. You never got to do things that you wanted, the plans always revolving around Scott.

However, there was one good thing about the party tonight. Or rather— someone.

Eddie Munson.

He’d kept his distance of course, so as not to raise any alarm bells with anyone. Most likely using the excuse of a good sale to be there in the first place. If anyone bothered to ask him. He rested his shoulder against the living room wall, a bag of freshly rolled joints clutched in his hand.

Eddie had surrounded himself with Robin and Steve the entire night, looking like he wanted to be there even less than you did. You can’t help but steal glances at each other from across the room.

Eddie looks good—he always does. His long curls are tied back in a low bun, sporting his signature ripped jeans and a Metallica shirt that hugs his broad shoulders nicely. You’ve wanted nothing more than to jump his bones the moment you got a chance to be alone.

The idea of sneaking off with him to one of the many guest rooms became more tempting as the party raged on.

You’ve secluded yourself on the sofa in the living room, adjacent to the makeshift dance floor. Thankful that most people are having too much fun to notice you there. You’ve been slowly sipping on a now watered down mixed drink, finding yourself feeling less and less in the party mood. However, your boyfriend seems to have other plans.

Scott is plastered. Irritatingly so.

You spent most of the night hiding from him, knowing how handsy he liked to get when he was drunk.

And as much as you’ve tried to pretend that everything was fine with Scott, your ability to fake it has become much harder. Especially knowing what you could be having instead.

So for the past week you’d avoided being alone with the basketball star. Ever since that fateful phone call the weekend prior. While you had still gone to the party that night, Scott eventually noticed something was up with you. Mostly due to the fact that you hadn’t let him touch you in over a week.

That was the driving force behind his drinking rampage tonight. The male had done 3 keg stands (that you’d witnessed) since he’d been here, on top however many beers he’d consumed. You’re exactly sure, but it’s the worst you’ve ever seen him.

Part of you does feel guilty, but a bigger part of you is starting to care less and less.

Ironically, Take Me Home Tonight by Eddie Money starts playing the moment he finds you again. But going anywhere with him is by far the last thing you wanted to do. The male slurs along to the track as he plops down next to you, nearly spilling his entire drink in your lap.

You can’t hide the grimace on your face as he leans into you, his breath reeking of stale beer. You grab the cup out of his hand before it spills everywhere. Huffing in annoyance as you set it down on the side table.

You really aren’t in the mood to play babysitter.

Scott’s hands, now empty, immediately grab at your hips to pull you in closer. His lips easily find your neck, the feeling of his hot breath making your skin crawl. You gently shove him off, but he leans back into your space immediately.

Normally you’d let him wear himself out, but you really don’t feel like it tonight.

“Scott, come on stop,” you sigh, no longer able to hide the irritation in your voice.

But your boyfriend is clearly not listening, continuing to press sloppy kisses along the exposed skin of your collarbone. A muffled moan leaves him as he guides your hand onto his lap.

You’re no longer able to conceal the alarmed expression that appears on your face as you tug your hand away. “I mean it, Scott.” He just groans in annoyance, feeling his fingers hook into the loop of your jeans.

“You’re too drunk, I said knock it off,” your voice drips with malice, despite how panicked you feel.

The male would always listen if you ever told him off, but his current state of intoxication clearly overtakes any rational thought.

“Oh come on, babe. We haven’t fucked in over a week, I have needs,” he slurs.

Before you have the chance to respond, the weight of his body disappears. You quickly glance up, your eyes widening in shock. Eddie has pulled your boyfriend up by the collar of his polo shirt, and suddenly it’s like the air is sucked out of the room.

Scott is fuming, a slew of curses leaves his mouth as he attempts to shove him off. Eddie is stone faced as he releases him abruptly, causing Scott to stumble backwards. He recovers quicker than you expected, raising his fist to aim a punch at the metalhead. But Eddie’s reflexes are much faster, catching the closed fist and knocking it away.

Scott was good in a fight, but he’s too inebriated to do much damage at this point.

“She said to knock it off, Scotty. I know you’re stupid but are you deaf too?”

You quickly get up and squeeze yourself between the two males, a clear pissing contest about to ensue if you don’t intervene. Your back is pressed against your boyfriend's chest, as your eyes plead with your lover to calm down.

“She’s my girlfriend Munson, fuck off,” he sneers.

The music has suddenly been turned down to a more tolerable volume, the focus of the party now shifting onto you— much to your dismay.

You can feel Scott’s hot breath against your neck, as his hands wrap around your middle to pull you further against his chest. Eddie is furious, his jaw clenched so hard you can see the muscles straining underneath his pale skin.

If you weren’t in this current predicament, you might have found it sexy. But you’re far too anxious to focus on anything else right now.

“Doesn’t matter, she doesn’t want you to fucking touch her,” Eddie’s voice continues to raise, until he’s almost yelling over your head. “No means no, dickhead!”

You can see Jason beginning to push through the crowd, Steve hot on his heels. The last thing you wanted was for this whole situation to escalate further. But judging by the look on Jason's face, you don’t know if you can stop it.

The crowd is clearly itching for a fight to break out, the whole atmosphere of the party shifting.

“Hey, freak! Who even invited you here?”

Eddie doesn’t even flinch at Jason’s insult.

“I did, Carver,” Steve answers, inserting himself in the already strained situation.

The tension between the four males is so thick, it makes you wish the ground would open and swallow you whole. Steve glances down at you for a moment before continuing, “But it seems to me like you need to get McGuire here in line. She’s clearly uncomfortable.”

You feel multiple pairs of eyes flick back to you, your shoulders slouching in an attempt to make yourself appear smaller. You catch Jason’s gaze, knowing he can clearly see the distress flitting over your features. The blonde sighs deeply, resting a hand on Scott’s shoulder.

“Scott, come on, just let it go,” he says, beginning to tug the male away from you. “You’ve had too much to drink.”

Before your boyfriend can even begin to protest, Jason and a newly joined Patrick lead him away. While you’re quite shocked that he was willing to break this up, part of you is thankful. Normally, the pair would egg each other on to keep a fight going. But as big of a prick Jason Carver is, he knew Steve was right.

You can feel the tears welling in the corners of your eyes, the party seeming to return to normal. While Steve has also disappeared into the crowd, Eddie hasn’t moved an inch. His eyes follow the group of jocks as they filed out of the room, casually flipping them the bird.

But his focus quickly returns to you. You can see in his eyes how he so desperately wants to envelop you in his arms and kiss your tears away.

But he knows he can’t. Not here.

Those protective urges are getting harder and harder for him to fight.

He opens his mouth to speak, but before he can say anything else you’re rushing past him. Pushing through the sea of drunken teens and to the front door. Your fight or flight instincts are finally kicking in, and you know you have to leave.

Anywhere is better than here.

You’d hitched a ride to the party with Chrissy, but you’re not about to try and find her now. You need to be alone.

You run for almost three blocks before you have to stop, resting your hands on your knees as you try to catch your breath. You take a minute to let your heart rate slow to a more steady rhythm before you start walking in the direction of your house.

While Hawkins is a relatively small town, your house is still a couple miles from the party. Walking the entire way isn’t the most ideal plan, but you didn’t give yourself much of a choice. And there’s no way you were going back there now.

You can only imagine the rumors that will be floating around the school come Monday. As much as you try to put on a brave face, you care too much about what your peers thought of you. You can already hear the kind of insults that would be thrown your way.

Skank, prude, lying whore.

The possibilities of cruel words were endless. You let out a small hiccup as you continue down the dimly lit street, finally allowing the tears to roll freely down your cheeks. You don’t want to give them the satisfaction of seeing you cry too.

How did you even get to this point?

Two months ago you couldn’t have foreseen yourself in this position. Falling for another guy, whilst simultaneously falling out of love with another. If you ever loved Scott to begin with. You’re not entirely convinced of that fact.

It felt like the easiest option, being with someone like Scott McGuire. He’s well-liked, a person your parents approve of. But you weren’t really happy, just going through the motions instead of chasing what you really want.

Perhaps that was what Eddie had really witnessed that night he had stumbled across you and Scott. Someone who was desperately searching for a way out. And he’d given it to you in ways you never expected.

Eddie was kind, attentive— cared about your feelings and desires.

What started off as just sex quickly snowballed into something much deeper. You had never really given much thought to your own needs. Maybe that was why his offer was too good to pass up, it let you indulge in uncharted territory.

You’d been labeled as a good girl your entire life. You never rebelled and always do exactly as you’re told. To the extent that you never felt an ounce of control over the trajectory of your own relationship. Or many other facets within your life.

It was whatever Scott or your parents thought was best for you. They’ve never taken into consideration what you had actually wanted.

But being with Eddie was like a breath of fresh air. It filled your lungs, greedily inhaling everything he has to offer. After struggling beneath the current for so long, there was no way you would let it pull you back under.

A cool breeze suddenly whips across your face, stinging your wet cheeks. You wrap your arms tighter around yourself to stop a shiver. Thankfully, you had forgone the usual skirts or dresses you adored, in favor of a sweater and jeans. Grateful for the extra layers to combat against the sudden drop in temperature.

You keep your head down as you continue to walk further down the quiet street. Only the sounds of your sneakers padding against the concrete and your soft sniffles fill the night air. It’s almost peaceful.

You make it another block before that tranquility is interrupted. You hear the loud rumble of an engine as a vehicle approaches you from behind. While not many people would be out past midnight in this sleepy town, you don’t think anything of it. You figured they would continue driving down the empty street.

That is until that same vehicle begins to idle next to you.

You glance out of your peripheral and curse softly. You would recognize that van anywhere, having found yourself in the back of it more times than you could count.

The window is cranked down as you turn away, beginning to walk a little faster. But the van keeps pace with you regardless. Eddie calls your name, but you keep your eyes trained on the ground. Tears are steadily streaming down your cheeks now, smearing your mascara.

While the brunette has seen you cry before— it was under very different circumstances. This feels different, like he’s seeing you naked for the first time all over again. Only this time you don’t feel ready for it.

You feel vulnerable and exposed.

You hate it.

Eddie proceeds to plead your name, as you continue to ignore him. He let the upper half of his torso practically hang out of the driver’s side window. The theatrical nature of it is almost enough to make you crack a smile. But you know he wasn’t going to give up until you at least tried to talk to him. With how he had stood up for you, he at least deserves that.

Having made up your mind, you suddenly stop in your tracks. The van squeaks to a halt beside you, the male flinging the driver’s side door open. You see his scuffed Reebox’s first, letting your eyes linger there for a moment. But you immediately squeeze them shut as his fingers softly grasp your chin, tilting it up.

“Sweetheart, look at me, please.” His tone is gentle, but still laced with concern. “It’s just you and me, you’re safe.” The sincerity behind those words has your heart skipping a beat.

You let out a shaky breath as your eyes begin to flutter open. His face is blurred from the tears flooding your lash line. You slowly blink them away until he finally comes into focus.

“There she is…” he declares, the indent in his cheek deepening as he smiles.

The male cups your face between his palms, letting their warmth seep into your cheeks. His thumbs swipe away any lingering tears as he presses a kiss to your temple. Eddie envelops you in his arms, letting you bury your face into his chest. You breathe in the familiar scent of his cologne, letting him hold you like that for a while.

The glow of the street lights cascades down on both of you. The night air only seems to grow colder the longer you both stand there. A shiver runs through you despite the heat radiating from his chest, something he doesn’t miss.

“Alright, time to go, doll,” he mumbles softly, “Can I drive you home?”

You are silent for a moment, mulling over your options in your head. “No,” you finally say, untangling yourself from him.

He looks a little hurt as you turn to walk towards his van, that hurt morphing into confusion as you yank open the passenger door.

“I don’t want to go home,” you explain, seeming to snap him out of his frozen stature. Eddie quickly climbs back into the van, the door barely slamming shut behind him before he pulls back onto the road.

He keeps one hand on the steering wheel, the other tangled with yours on the seat. When you left the party, you had fully intended to go home alone.

But being tangled up with him sounds like a much better option.

You had never been to Eddie’s trailer.

Whether that was intentional or not, you’re not sure. But it’s the one place that he has never taken you to.

He seems nervous as he leads you through the living room. Your eyes wander curiously around the room, taking in the large collection of coffee mugs and hats that decorate the walls. Eddie sheepishly begins picking up some discarded food wrappers, junk mail— all in an effort to tidy up a little.

“Sorry about…” He pauses, hands full as he motions around the room. “All of this." You refrain from rolling your eyes. Tossing some items into the trash, he jokes, “Goddamn maid left us high and dry last week.”

“Let me guess…she ran off with some wannabe rockstar?” You smile, watching as he leans against the kitchen counter with a matching grin.

“Something like that.”

Despite what Eddie has implied about his humble abode, you liked it the moment you crossed the threshold. It has character, a clear representation of the two men who live there. But it also feels warm and incredibly inviting, something your own home hasn’t felt like in quite a long time.

His uncle already left for the night shift, which means the two of you have the place to yourselves. Eddie shows you to the bathroom, giving you a moment alone to collect yourself. But mostly to clean up the mess your mascara had made on your cheeks.

You emerge from the bathroom a few minutes later, Eddie nowhere in sight. He didn’t tell you which room was his, but it doesn’t take you long to figure it out. The door at the end of the hall was left slightly ajar, golden light spilling out onto the shag carpet. But it’s the strum of a guitar that ends up being your guide.

You push open the door to his bedroom, unable to help the small smile that graces your features as you take it all in. The room is a little messy and cluttered— something you expected.

You let your eyes roam over the many posters splayed across the walls, Metallica, Slayer… and one handmade one. Corroded Coffin. You knew Eddie was in a band—it was the one of the things apart from DnD that he seemed extremely passionate about.

Music.

Eddie’s quiet as he sits on the edge of his unmade bed, an acoustic guitar perched on his lap. This machine slays dragons, is painted in white on the side of the instrument. You find yourself suddenly mesmerized, watching as his fingers slowly brush over the strings.

He finally notices how you’ve planted yourself in the doorway, glancing up at you from underneath his lashes.

“Make yourself at home, sweetheart,” he smiles, gesturing around him. “What’s mine is yours.”

He focuses his attention back on the instrument in his lap, testing out a few chords as you shut the door behind you. You step further into the room, letting your fingers trail along the top of his desk.

Being alone with him like this suddenly feels more intimate than any other time before. It’s like he’s letting you peek inside his mind, showing pieces of himself that not many others get to see. Only those that he trusts. And you can’t deny how it warms your insides.

You’re a little too busy exploring the rest of his room that you don’t notice when his eyes have drifted back to you. The brunette gazes at you fondly when you spot a pair of handcuffs dangling next to his mirror. His soft chuckle fills the room as you reach out to run your fingers over the cool metal.

“We can definitely put those to use, doll.” Those words have you squirming, warmth spreading through your limbs. You shy away as you take a seat in the chair next to his desk. “If you want.”

Eddie grins at your flustered expression, glancing back down at his guitar. He’s playing freely now, the chords unfamiliar to you. But they’re beautiful nonetheless.

“You’re really good at… uh,” you trail off softly, gesturing to the instrument.

You notice how the tips of his ears flush pink from your admission, although he acts unfazed by your compliment.

“What, fingering?” he teases, purposefully pressing his fingers down onto the guitar strings in a dramatic manner which makes you giggle.

The song he was playing quickly morphs into something else, something quite familiar. But you can’t quite put your finger on it. You lean forward to rest your chin in your palm.

The moment he begins to hum the lyrics is the moment when the song becomes abundantly clear.

I, I will be king… and you, you will be queen.

“Heroes,” you murmur, the word almost becoming lodged in your throat.

You had mentioned to Eddie in passing a few weeks ago that it’s your favorite Bowie song.

You never expected him to do anything with that information, or even remember it. But he kept finding ways to surprise you. This small act alone proves that he truly cares about you, that he listens to you. It’s overwhelming in the best way possible.

Your body suddenly feels too warm under the thick layers of clothing. Rising to your feet, you grip the hem of your sweater and pull it over your head. You let the soft material fall to the floor, joining a heap of his own clothing. Standing before him in only your bra and jeans.

Eddie seems to fumble over the next few notes as he takes in your newly exposed skin, averting his gaze as he clears his throat. Now it’s your turn to make him flustered.

But he can’t help but glance at you out of the corner of his eye, as you begin unbuttoning your jeans. You shimmy the denim down your legs, kicking them off to the side. You felt emboldened as you strolled over to the brunette’s dresser. His eyes boring into your back as you rummage through his drawers.

You’re in search of a particular item, a smile stretching across your face once you locate it amongst the various band tees. Reaching behind your back you unclip your bra, you let the straps slide off of your shoulders. The item quickly joins the rest of your discarded clothes on his floor.

You don’t hear how his breath hitches in his throat over the strum of his guitar.

You pull Eddie’s faded hellfire shirt from the drawer and slip it over your head. The soft fabric glides over your skin, the hem falling just past the curve of your ass. It smells like an intoxicating mixture of his cologne and laundry detergent.

You hum softly as you breathe it in, turning to face him again. His dark eyes are blown wide, the guitar now almost forgotten in his hands. Just the sight of you in his clothes is making him feel things he’d be too afraid to admit out loud.

You saunter towards him, carefully grasping the neck of the guitar and leaning it against his dresser. He seems dumbfounded as you climb into his lap and wrap your arms around his neck. You tilt your head down towards his ear, lips grazing over it. Enjoying the way he almost shudders beneath you.

“I just want to thank you properly,” you whisper, nipping at his lobe.

Your lips continue to trail across his jaw until you reach his mouth, unable to hold back any longer as you press your lips to his. The feeling of your mouth molding against his own seems to snap Eddie out of whatever trance he was in. His large hands easily find the curve of your waist, gripping the fabric of the shirt in his fists.

Eddie kisses you slowly but deeply, trying to savor the taste of your mouth on his. Your fingers slip the elastic band out of his hair, letting his curls cascade wildly over his shoulders. But the longer he kisses you, the worse the ache between your thighs becomes.

In desperate need of some friction, you grind your hips down against his crotch. Whining as you feel his hardened cock through his jeans. He’d been struggling with it ever since you took that first piece of clothing off. Initially, he was going to ignore it, but then you climbed right into his lap and he lost all sense of logic.

But as much as he wants this to continue, he knows you’re not in the right kind of headspace for more. He groans into your mouth as you continue to rub yourself against him, but his firm grip on your hips stops any further movement. Your eyes flutter open, confusion filling them.

“Slow down, sweetheart,” he pants, one of his hands lifted to carefully cup your cheek. “We don’t have to do anything tonight.”

The look he’s giving you has your heart stuttering, but his words are throwing you for a loop. The whole basis of this… arrangement was sex. The fine line between a casual hookup and a relationship have been blurred for a while. But tonight has made it crystal clear that this has evolved into something much more than that.

Even if neither of you wanted to admit it.

“Do you not want…” you trail off, unable to hide the sliver of hurt in your tone.

He shakes his head, leaning his forehead against yours with a strained sigh.

“Trust me, doll. I definitely want to.” He chuckles, shifting his hips beneath you. “But tonight was… fuck, it was intense. And you can't expect me to believe you're okay after all that. I just want you to have a clear head, is all.”

You mull over his words for a moment as the weight of what happened earlier crashes back over you. And with it, squashing any urge to finish what you had just started.

"I'm not that asshole,” he continues, unable to make out your puzzled expression. “You don't have to fuck me just to make me happy. I'm happy just being with you, like this."

You’re willing yourself not to cry again as he gently presses a tender kiss to your forehead. Eddie basks in the scent of your strawberry shampoo, feeling you start to relax against his chest.

“Now, I don’t know about you.” He yawns, nuzzling your nose with his. “But I think we’ve had enough excitement for one night.”

You laugh quietly, nodding as you climb off his lap. Draping your body over the bed, keeping your eyes focused on him. The male stands to strip down to his boxers, in such a hurry to get back to you that he almost trips over his jeans.

“Down, boy, I’m not going anywhere.” You giggle as he slips under the covers with you.

A sheepish grin tugs at his lips as he clicks off the bedside lamp, bathing the room in darkness. You reach for him just as he does for you, your hands bumping together clumsily.

“Scoot closer.” You can almost hear the pout in his voice, eagerly moving forward until his bare chest is pressed against your clothed one.

“Much better,” he hums.

Eddie slots one of his legs between yours, snaking his arms around your waist. There’s no part of you that isn’t completely entangled in him. You can feel his clothed erection pressing into your hip, and that sense of guilt washes over you again.

Knowing you’d left not one, but two guys pent up tonight.

“I’m really sorry for everything tonight,” you whisper into the darkness, feeling his arms tighten around you.

“Hey, don’t do that. You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for.”

You nod, but those feelings welling up inside you don’t dissipate. Not completely.

Eddie begins to rub soothing circles over your hip, continuing up your side. Your body tenses as you try to stifle a laugh. The male doesn’t realize that his touch isn’t exactly… soothing. But the further his hand creeps up your side the more you start to squirm and a small gasp leaves your lips.

That sound alone is enough to tip him off, now well aware of what he’s done. You can vaguely make out his mischievous grin in the dark, calculating his next move. Before you have time to react both of his hands are trailing up your sides, tickling you.

“Eddie!” You squeal as your body thrashes in his embrace, rolling you underneath him in the process.

The chain of his necklace dangles in your face, his fingers unrelenting as he pulls giggle after giggle out of you. This is a sound he’d vowed to hear as often as he could, his own laugh mingling with yours.

“S’not f-fair!” you squeak out between fits of laughter before he finally lets up so you can breathe. You’re panting a little, your noses brush against each other.

“I like making you laugh,” he admits, almost shyly. “It’s cute.”

You reach out for his face in the darkness, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his jaw. You can feel the warmth that’s radiating against your lips, allowing your lips to linger there for a moment.

Coming to the realization that you’d just made Eddie Munson blush brings a wide smile to your face.

“I just want to say thank you for earlier… and for letting me stay the night. I really appreciate it.”

Eddie settles back down next to you on the mattress, your palms resting against his chest. His lips search for yours in the darkness, leaving kisses all over your face in his fumbling attempt to find your lips. Another round of giggles escapes you from the tender gesture.

His ability to make you feel so safe and secure is still so new to you. You don’t want this feeling to end— you never want any of this to end. However, you know this isn’t fair. Eddie doesn’t deserve to be someone’s secret.

But as time passed and this relationship continued to progress, the more you began to realize that you didn’t want to keep him a secret anymore.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” he mumbles, his voice thick with sleep.

You snuggle yourself further against him, limps tangling together. With your ear pressed to his chest, you can hear the steady beat of his heart. The way his breathing starts to slow and become more even.

“Goodnight, Eds,” you whisper, stifling another laugh as a soft snore answers you.

You allow your eyes to slip shut, exhaustion finally overtaking you as his heartbeat continues to lull you to sleep.

Sunlight streaming through the thin curtains is what awoke you that next morning.

A sigh falls from your lips as you attempt to stretch out your overly stiff limbs. Which is when you feel a stirring beneath you. Your eyes fly open as the events of last night trickle back in.

The party, Scott being a grade A asshole, Eddie taking care of you...

If your body wasn’t currently draped over him, you might have convinced yourself it was all a dream. That Eddie dropped you off at home, and you were snuggled beneath your floral bedspread. But to your relief, that clearly isn’t the case.

Your body stills in an attempt not to stir the sleeping metalhead beneath you. At some point during the night you must have gotten yourselves into this position. Laying on his chest, with his arms wrapped securely around your middle. But you don’t mind in the slightest.

In fact, you feel more rested than you have in quite some time. You just wish you could stay like this forever, wrapped up in him and only him. Lifting your head, you rest your chin on your hand and begin to study his sleeping features.

He looks completely at ease.

Faint freckles are scattered across his nose and cheeks, his long lashes fanning over them. His dark curls are wild from sleep, fanned out over his flannel pillowcase. Pouted lips slightly chapped, but kissable all the same. He really is beautiful.

You continue to watch him sleep for a while longer, the morning sun cascading over the tops of his cheekbones. But his breath remains even, small snores slipping out every so often. As you gaze at him, you can’t help but silently scold yourself.

You’re falling for Eddie Munson more and more each day, and you know you can’t keep this up.

You have to end things with Scott.

And as much as you want to stay snuggled up with Eddie, your body has other needs. You don’t exactly know how you’re going to get up without disturbing him, but your bladder is in desperate need of relief.

You sigh as you begin to shimmy further down his body, your legs falling on either side of his hips. A squeak of surprise leaves you as you feel his hard on pressing against your inner thigh through his boxer shorts. It shouldn’t have been that big of a shock to you—morning wood is normal, right?

But you didn’t have much experience with sleepovers of this nature. Despite dating Scott for well over a year, you’ve never spent the night with him like this. So it’s something quite new to you. While you silently ponder over this, Eddie begins to stir again.

A soft moan tumbles past his lips as you accidentally press yourself harder against his boner in an attempt to swing your leg back over the other side of his hip.

“Mm… where do you think you’re going, doll?” His voice is thick with sleep, an octave lower than normal. The gravelly nature of it makes heat shoot between your legs.

You curse softly as you glance up at him, those chocolate hues gazing back at you. Eddie’s fingers splayed across the tops of your thighs, sliding up to encircle your hips. You feel your body flush, his eyes darkening as he looks you over— straddling him, wearing nothing but his shirt.

When he lifts his hips to grind you against him, you can’t stop the whimper that escapes.

“Eds, hold on. I have to pee,” you mumble, feeling embarrassed as his hips still beneath you.

He just lets out a deep laugh as his hands release your hips. You climb over him, quick to scramble off the bed.

“Alright, I guess I’ll allow it,” he teases, the tips of fingers brushing against yours. “Just hurry back, sweetheart.”

Your heart warms at the sight of him, his brown eyes filling with adoration as they look up at you. Leaning over the bed, you press a small kiss to his mouth. A giggle leaves your own as he gives your ass a small pat before you book it to the bathroom.

You feel much better after finally relieving yourself, washing your hands as you glance into the mirror. Your eyes almost sparkle in the muted light, a dopey smile stretched across your face. Is this what it feels like to be in a healthy relationship?

You don’t dwell on it long, far too eager to return back to him. You slip out of the bathroom and tiptoe back to Eddie’s bedroom. Taking extra care to be quiet as you weren’t sure if Wayne has returned home from work yet. And frankly, you’d be mortified if you met him under these conditions—with you clad in only Eddie’s shirt and your panties.

What a great way to make a first impression.

You close his bedroom door behind you slowly, letting the lock click gently into place. You turn back around to face him and lean against the door. Eddie is in the same spot you had left him, only now he’s leaning halfway up on one elbow. That hunger hasn’t left his gaze as he beckons you over with his index finger.

Looking at his hands makes your thighs clench together, knowing all the wonderful things they were capable of. You take your bottom lip between your teeth as you approach him, stopping at the edge of the mattress. Eddie’s fingers ghost over the plush skin of your thighs, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

They continue up until they reach the elastic of your panties. He gives you a look, silently asking for permission. You guide his fingers beneath the fabric, aiding him in sliding them down your legs. As you step out of the material, your eyes glance back up to meet his.

“Come here.”

It’s spoken softly, but the command in his voice makes your breath hitch.

You move on instinct, your desire fueling your actions as you straddle his hips. There’s a fluidity in your movements as you rest your hands on his chest. Your manicured nails gently trail over his stomach, watching the lust continue to swirl behind his irises.

While this wasn’t a position you’d dabbled in up to this point, the way he’s regarding you has your confidence flourishing. He wants you, and he wants you badly.

At this point you’d give him the moon and the stars if he asked.

Once you’re settled on top of him, you can feel how his cock strains against the fabric of his boxers. Testing the waters, you glide yourself along his shaft, his hands reaching up to encircle your waist. He simply rests them there, allowing you to take the lead.

The worn cotton of his briefs provides some much needed friction against your clit. You bite down on your lip in an attempt to keep a moan from slipping out. But the male isn’t having any of that. He reaches his hand up to remove your lower lip from between your teeth.

His calloused thumb brushes over your mouth, slipping the digit past your lips.

“No need to be shy, sweetheart. I wanna hear you.”

You nod your head, humming as your tongue swirls around his thumb. You eagerly suck it deeper into your mouth, which pulls a low groan from him. But Eddie can only take so much of your teasing, removing his thumb to grip back onto your hips. Your lower lip juts out in a small pout, which causes him to chuckle.

“Now none of that, or I’ll give you something to pout about,” he quips, giving your ass a warning smack.

The hint of a threat in his tone has you whimpering, guiding your hips harder along his shaft.

You grip the hem of his shirt in between your fingers, beginning to lift it over your hips but he stops you. A brow raising as you look down at him.

“Fuck, keep it on,” he says with a groan. “Wanna see you riding me in it.”

His confession has you feeling timid, letting your hands settle back at your sides. Eddie’s fingers begin to trail over the top of your thigh, before dipping between them. His digits glide between your slick folds, brushing over your bundle of nerves. It causes your breath to hitch, eagerly grinding your hips back against his fingertips.

“Eddie, please,” you breathe.

“Use your words, pretty girl,” he hums. “Tell me what you want.”

Impatience gnawed at you as you lifted your hips, your fingers dipping past the waistband of his boxers. You tug them down to release his cock from their confines, your actions surprising you both. As much as you loved when he touched you, your body was already craving more.

Wrapping your palm around the base of his shaft, he groans. His jaw slackens as he watches you guide the tip through your drenched folds. Nudging it against your clit once…twice…a third time.

Before you finally line him up with your entrance, guiding your hips down.

“Shit, hold on doll, need a condom.”

Eddie holds you in place with one hand, as the other reaches over into his night side table. He’s blindly searching for one of the foil packets when you blurt out, “I don’t want it. Need you to fuck me raw, Ed.”

Your words stop him in his tracks, eyes widening in almost disbelief. You suddenly feel nervous, praying you didn’t just ruin everything with your admission.

“Are you sure? I-I wouldn’t want to risk…” he trails off, licking his lips as he regards you with a somewhat guarded expression.

You nod, leaning forward to whisper in his ear, “I’m on the pill. I just… I want you to be the first one to do it, Eddie.”

His groan rumbles through his chest, the implication behind your words only makes him want you more. Scott never got to do this.

This is something that would be his, and his alone.

His hand cradles the back of your neck, guiding your face towards his. Crashes his lips against yours, the desperation behind them telling you his resounding answer. But you want to hear him say it. Nipping at his lower lip, you pull away to sit back up and rest your palms on his chest.

The male is panting beneath you, his flustered expression only causes your confidence to grow. A smirk adorns your features as Eddie lifts his hips upward in an attempt to grind them into yours, but you push back against his hip to stop the movement.

“Nuh uh, handsome,” you purr, your fingertips gliding through the hair just below his navel. “Tell me what you want. Use your words.”

Eddie’s brain nearly short circuits as you use his former words against him. A slew of curses tumbles from his lips as you grasp his cock in your hand, rubbing it through your folds but not yet breaching the entrance. Awaiting his response as you continue to tease him, feeling his fingers grasping onto your ass.

“Fuck, I wanna come inside you so bad, sweetheart,” he whines.

You hum in approval, leaning back down to press a sloppy kiss to his mouth. Eddie instantly reciprocates, his tongue working its way past your lips. You teasingly suck the muscle into your mouth before pulling away. A string of saliva connects you as you sit up fully. Eddie curses again, his hands gripping onto your ass even harder.

“Fuck— come on, please.”

Hearing Eddie Munson beg is what finally breaks your resolve, slowly sinking down onto his cock.

It didn’t matter how many times you’ve had him, he always made you feel so full. This time feels…different, though. It’s as though you can feel every vein and ridge of his cock caressing your inner walls, the sensation has you gasping. Your body stills once he’s fully sheathed inside you, letting your palms splay across his chest.

“That’s it, takin’ me so good, doll,” he grunts as his head falls back against the pillow. His praise has you beaming.

You stay like that for a moment until you become familiar with the feeling of him inside you again. Beginning to lift your hips slowly, his cock nearly slipping out of you completely. As you begin to lower yourself onto him again, his face contorts in pleasure—now hiding those beautiful irises from you.

“Eddie… baby. Look at me,” you coo.

The pet name slips past your lips almost too easily, enjoying the way it sounds on your tongue. Eddie’s eyes snap back open to meet yours. His pupils are blown wide, the black nearly swallowing the brown of his irises whole. The male peers up at you in a mixture of lust and awe as you continue to take him deeper.

If he could watch you ride him all day, he would.

However, your leisurely pace is starting to drive him insane. The brunette begins to buck his hips up into yours, swift but deep thrusts that take you by surprise. A moan gets caught in your throat as he rams into your sweet spot, eyes rolling back into your head. Witnessing your visceral reaction, he continues to repeat the action as your chest starts to heave.

“Christ, you look so pretty with my cock inside you, baby,” he moans, his fingers digging harder into your hips.

Any thoughts of remaining quiet are thrown out the window the moment he speaks. A loud moan rips itself from your throat, filling the silence of his bedroom. His praise has your walls tightening around his shaft, your head falling forward as you open your eyes. A smug look adorns his features, eyes falling to where your bodies connect.

He looks so good like this— underneath you, eyes wide and his cheeks beautifully flushed.

“You like that don’t you? My pretty girl…”

The sound that leaves you is borderline pornographic, nails digging into his shoulders as you ride him faster. You can’t disguise the way your body reacts to being called his, your arousal making a slippery mess between your bodies.

You reach for him, coaxing him up until your chests are pressed together. Lips find each other instantly, tangling your fingers in his already wild locks. One of his hands travels between you, rubbing at your swollen bud.

“Fuck— Eddie,” you cry out as he massages your clit faster, simultaneously bucking his hips up into you.

You meet each of his thrusts by slamming your hips back down, thighs burning with the effort. One more brutal thrust into your cervix has you seeing stars, your head burying itself into the crook of his neck. You bite down onto the flesh of his shoulder to muffle a loud cry.

Your thighs tremble as your body slumps forward—unable to continue.

But Eddie keeps going, chasing his own end as he guides you further along his cock. He isn’t able to hold off much longer, as the constant fluttering of your walls becomes his undoing. He spills inside you with a deep grunt as you cling onto his biceps.

The male soon collapses into you, his chest heaving as he captures your lips together. You sigh into his mouth as he holds you tightly against him, breathing the air back into your lungs. You stay like that for a moment, locked together in the most intimate way possible.

Eddie carefully ushers your hips upward, coaxing you back onto the mattress. You whimper softly, already missing the feeling of him inside you. His cum has begun to drip onto the bed sheets as he kneels before you, spreading your legs so he can admire the mess he’s made.

Eddie’s eyes are still wide with lust as he takes in the sight of you, dipping his fingers between your thighs to gather some of his cum on the digits. He slowly eases them back inside your entrance in an attempt to keep anything else from spilling out. You whine his name, reaching out for him as he gently removes his fingers from your center.

The male presses multiple kisses to your shaky thighs before he crawls his way back up your body. Just as he goes to wipe his fingers on his sheets you grab onto his wrist, slipping the digits past your lips.

“Jesus Christ, sweetheart,” he mumbles, feigning hurt when you playfully nibble on his fingers. He starts to pull away, ignoring your pout as he gets off up off the bed. You’re about to protest but he hushes you with a kiss. “I’ll be right back.”

Eddie quickly fixes his boxers before he slips out of his bedroom, returning moments later with a damp washcloth. He’s back between your legs, gently cleaning up the dried arousal on your thighs. He takes his time, making sure every inch of your skin is clean before he tosses the dirty rag in his overflowing laundry basket.

Eddie helps you into a sitting position as he cups your cheek, thumb brushing over your lower lip. He smiles fondly at you, dimple indenting his cheek as a familiar look flashes through his eyes. The one you had noticed the week prior when you were draped across his chest in your bedroom. A look he seems to give you almost every time you’re together now.

You still aren’t sure what exactly it means. All you do know is that you want to see more of it.

Eddie tries to hide it as he presses a kiss to your nose, chuckling as you scrunch it beneath his lips. “You hungry? I’m not the best cook, but I can definitely whip you up a nice omelet?”

You beam at him, nodding your head as he gets up to rummage through his dresser drawers. He eventually finds a pair of shorts for you to wear, handing you the garment as he pulls on a pair of sweatpants. You glance down at the ground, attempting to look for your discarded panties, only to come up short.

“Eddie? Have you seen my panties?” You sigh, beginning to look through the clothes scattered across the floor. Hearing him chuckle you glance up, a small smirk stretching across his lips. It’s then that you notice the black lacy fabric clutched in his fist.

“These are mine now, sweetheart,” he winks, tucking them into his bedside table.

You feel a little flustered as you pull the shorts up over your legs, playfully swatting his chest as you stand. Eddie just laughs, pulling you into arms and kissing you again. He eagerly threads your fingers together, leading you out of the room.

However, once he begins to guide you through the trailer— there's only one thing on your mind.

Scotty has got to go.

— next chapter.

sdk taglist: @xxbimbobunnyxx @munsonhoneybaby @mugloversonly @lemme-slytherin-that-dick @transparentenemypenguin @calumfmu @vamp-bunny @eddiesxangel @nailbatanddungeon @deathst9r @comeonatmebruh

[serpentandlily]

Untouchable III - Azriel x Reader

Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand'sSister! Reader ✨

Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had feelings for Azriel, your court's spymaster. But after centuries of watching him pine after your own cousin, hoping he'd eventually move on, your wish came true. He moved on-with Elain, your brother's mate's middle sister. Unable to watch him fall in love with someone else again, you flee from Velaris, from him. But things are a lot more complicated than that - more complicated than you ever imagined.

Warnings: angst

a/n: Okay all your comments/reblogs have literally made me dieeee laughing. Y'all are so funny lmao. Hope you enjoy this one! I had lots of fun writing it <3

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III ➻❥ Part IV ➻❥ Part V

➻❥ Part VI ➻❥ Part VII ➻❥ Part VIII ➻❥ Part IX ➻❥ Part X

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Part III

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The cool night breeze kissed the flesh exposed by your silk nightgown as you sat on the railing of your balcony, dangling your legs over the edge. You could faintly hear music and the sound of laughter as Velaris came alive around you. You blew a loose strand of hair out of your face as you gazed up at the bright moon glowing down on you in the night sky. 

“I need some advice right now, Mama,” you whispered into the night. “Everyone seems to be finding their place in this world but I…I don’t know where I belong or what I’m even here for. And everything has been falling apart recently and I could really, really, use one of your hugs right now.”

After the disastrous training session this morning, you had spent the rest of the day watching over Nyx. Being with him made you feel better. Your nephew was a reminder that there were more important things in your life than a certain shadowsinger and his crazy mood swings. 

But now Nyx was asleep and you were left alone with your thoughts once again. 

Azriel had been so rough with you today, so cruel. And your heart panged with the thought that he would never dare treat Elain, or even Mor, like that. You let out a sigh and drew one knee to your chest, resting your head against it. Would this heartache ever go away? Or were you cursed by the Mother to forever yearn for a male who would never want you? 

Somehow you could sense him before you even heard the flap of wings. A thud sounded behind you and the smell of night-chilled mist and cedar flooded your senses. His presence felt heavy and dark and you refused to turn around despite the way it put you on edge. 

Silence. Nothing but tense silence filled the air. If it wasn't for Azriel's looming presence behind you, you might've thought you imagined him coming. You waited a breath...then another. Still nothing. You felt him take a step closer to you; his shadows eased their way between your arms, over your shoulders, through your hair. You could feel his warm breath on the back of your neck. 

Another moment went by and you couldn't take it anymore. You blew out a low breath. 

"I didn't snitch on you if that's what you're thinking," you scoffed, your gaze never straying from the moon. "You can blame that on Cass. So if my brother sent you here to apologize, save it."

Silence once more. Your grip on the edge of the stone railing tightened. Why wasn't he saying anything? Why did he come here? 

"Rhys didn't send me here." You almost jumped at the sound of his voice, your heartbeat rising. "In fact, your brother forbade me from seeking you out."

Yet here he was, going directly against his High Lord's orders. Your brows furrowed but you refused to turn around, refused to look at him. So much had changed between the two of you in the last twenty-four hours.

"So why are you here?"

"I hurt you." His voice was as dark as his shadows.

You glanced down at your bandaged hand. The image of his cold face as he struck down on you with his sword replayed in your mind. But you weren't sure which had hurt more. The slice down your palm or the words he had spat at you. 

"You did." 

"Y/n..." he whispered your name. You felt his hand ghost over your shoulder, as if he were about to touch you, but his touch never came. "I'm sorry. I was...I was angry and I took it out on you—”

"You weren't just angry, Az," you cut him off. "You were angry with me. Why? What did I do to earn your ire?"

You finally turned around and gasped as you caught sight of his face. He had a black eye, his left cheekbone was surrounded by black and purple bruises, and his bottom lip had been split open, though it looked to be already healing. His hair was tousled as if he had spent hours running his hand through it, some pieces hanging down his forehead. 

"I deserved it," he said, darkly as your eyes searched his face for any more injuries. You knew your brother had been behind them. "You've done nothing wrong. Like I said, I wasn't angry with you."

You let out another scoff and jumped down from the railing. The ground was cold against your bare feet as you brushed past Azriel and strode towards the glass doors leading to your bedroom. 

“Where are you going?”

You waved a dismissive hand in the air. “I refuse to entertain a conversation with you if you’re going to blatantly lie to me.”

“I’m not lying,” he ground out through his teeth. 

You whirled around, crossing your arms. “Then why did you say all those things to me? If you were just angry, why not let off steam by sparring with Cass like you always do? You targeted me.” 

“I didn’t mean any of the things I said, y/n.”

“You still said them.” 

“Fine,” he snarled. He stalked towards you looking like a fallen angel straight from Hell, wings and all. You couldn’t help but take a step back. “Do you want to know why I’m so angry, princess?”

You gasped as he pressed a large hand flat against your sternum and pushed you against the wall, holding you there. Your eyes widened as you stared up at him. His expression was dark, his jaw clenched. 

“I’m angry because you let that undeserving, piece of shit male put his hands all over you,” he growled. “I'm angry you even let him look in your direction.”

You glared up at him. “Why should it even matter to you?”

“Because it does.” He slammed a hand against the wall beside your head causing your heart to pound in your chest. “It fucking does.”

“Why?” Your voice was a mere whisper. 

Azriel sucked in a breath, his head dropping into the crevice of your neck. You didn’t think your heart could beat any faster or you might possibly die. He splayed his hand out on your stomach, holding you in place. 

“Azriel?” you questioned, uncertain of what he was doing. He had never acted so erratic around you. You went to take a step forward but he slammed you back against the wall with the hand on your stomach. 

“Don’t,” he said through gritted teeth. “Don’t move.”

Your breath got caught in your throat. He trailed his nose up your throat column, barely brushing against the fragile skin. Butterflies erupted in your stomach at his touch, at his closeness to you. 

“Az,” you started, placing your hand on his chest. “What are you—”

You stopped talking as he laid his hand over your much smaller one. He closed his eyes, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “Don’t touch me.”

But his hand squeezed yours, keeping it in place. You were so confused—so utterly confused by his behavior. He pried your hand off his chest after a moment and you let your arm fall limp.  

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” His voice was so low, it sent a shiver down your spine. His hand gripped your hip so tightly, the fabric of your nightgown bunching in his fist. 

When his eyes opened again, he looked wild—feral. His hand slid up your waist, grazing the side of your breast, until it lingered on your throat. Heat started to coil inside of you. Fire burned a trail through your veins. You couldn’t find any words, your mind suddenly empty of every single thought except one.

Azriel took a deep inhale and you were certain he could smell your arousal. Your cheeks turned pink with embarrassment. But his pupils dilated at your scent, making his eyes look black, as the hand that was on the wall clenched so tightly, parts of the brick chipped off, clattering to the floor. His other hand moved up your throat to cup the side of your cheek, a scarred thumb brushing against your skin. 

You swallowed audibly, frozen in place. You could scent his own arousal, could feel it pressing against your stomach, as his hard body kept you as its prisoner. Your mouth parted in a gasp and his head dipped down, his nose brushing against yours. And then his lips hovered over yours and you held your breath. Your body screamed at you to do something, anything. But he had ordered you not to move, not to touch him.

Your heart nearly stopped as his lips feathered yours and you waited. Waited for him to make the final move, to press his lips against yours for real. To kiss you. Something that had only ever happened in your dreams. But instead, he let out a loud grunt of pain and pulled himself away from you so quickly, it felt like you had been slapped. 

You blinked up at him, disorientated. “A-Azriel?”

He let out a frustrated growl, running a hand through his hair, as his whole body seemed to tense. When he met your eyes, goosebumps covered your skin because of the darkness in his gaze. The hand at his side clenched in and out of a fist. Like he was restraining himself from something. 

You were shaking like a leaf, glad the wall could support you, otherwise you were sure you would’ve crumbled to the floor. You waited for him to speak, to say anything that might explain what the hell had just happened. But when he finally did, his words were like a spear to the heart.

“Do yourself a favor, princess, and stay the hell away from me.” The words came out in a snarl and his huge wings snapped out, casting a dark shadow over your form. Before you could even say anything, he launched himself into the air and disappeared into the dark night sky. 

The breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding in was expelled out of your lungs and you slid down the wall until you were on the floor, drawing your knees up to your chest. Your mind whirled as you tried to figure out what just happened. 

But hours later, when the sun began to crest over the horizon, you were still so lost. 

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

A few days passed by without you so much as catching a glimpse of Azriel. Apparently, your brother had sent him off on some mission, likely out of spite. Or perhaps even for your benefit. As much as you wanted to see him after that night on the balcony, his absence gave you time to think about what you wanted or needed to do. 

Ultimately, you decided the next time you came across him alone, you would force him to talk to you, to tell you what the hell that night was about. It was only fair. You deserved an explanation after all. He had treated you like shit, then came to you and nearly kissed you, before disappearing. And his words had been ringing in your head every single night.

Do yourself a favor, princess, and stay the hell away from me.

They made no sense to you. It had seemed like he wanted you that night, judging by the arousal you had scented, the feel of him against you. And you knew he could tell you wanted him too. So why would you be doing either of you any favors from staying away from him? It made no Godsdamn sense and you needed an answer to his cryptic words. So you would demand it of him the next time he came around. 

You stretched your legs out on the couch, yawning as you placed a bookmark to keep your place in the novel you were in the middle of reading, and snapped it closed. It had been a long day of taking care of Nyx while Rhys and Feyre had to attend to some courtly duties. The house had been noticeably vacant today, just the two wraith twins occasionally floating in to check on you and baby Nyx. 

Normally Elain was around to keep you company on days like this but even she had run off somewhere for the day. You had just started to get up, ready to retire to your bed, when the front door slammed open. You jumped at the noise, whirling towards the foyer. Rhys and Feyre weren’t due back until tomorrow morning, so who else could it—

Elain stumbled into view, followed by Azriel. Both hadn’t even noticed your presence as they kissed wildly, bumping against the walls as they moved inside. The scent of Elain’s arousal flooded the room and you choked on the scent causing them to break apart in surprise. 

Your stomach sank at their appearance. The top buttons of Azriel’s shirt were undone, exposing some of the tattoos on his chest. Elain’s hair was in disarray, her lips swollen, as if they had been up to this for a while now.  Well, that explained why Elain had been gone all day. 

You stared at them with wide eyes as hurt slammed its way into you. Azriel had returned from his mission. He had returned and had sought out Elain. Hadn’t even thought to come to you to maybe give you some explanation of that night. You were probably the last thing on his mind right now anyways, that much was clear. 

“Oh my Gods,” Elain exclaimed, placing a hand to her chest. “I’m so sorry, y/n. I knew Feyre and Rhys would be gone and assumed you’d be in bed by now.” 

Azriel said nothing, only stared at you with a cold, unfeeling look. You felt your breath shallow out, your nerves causing your hands to shake. You wanted to scream, wanted to vomit, to cry. But you did nothing. Just mustered up a small smile and muttered, “It’s okay.”

Elain went to say something else but Azriel grabbed her hand and leaned down to whisper in her ear, holding eye contact with you the entire time. “Come on, let’s go.”

He smirked as she blushed red and you could do nothing but just stare and stare at him. You didn’t move an inch as he pulled her away and up the stairs, Elain giggling the entire time. You didn’t move even after you heard her bedroom door slam close. 

You thought there was no way he could’ve hurt you more, but you had clearly underestimated him. How could he? How could he…act like that with you and then just carry on as if nothing happened? How could he just carry on with another girl after that charged night? You hand clenched the book you were holding as you struggled through your feelings. 

Your already broken heart somehow found even more ways to tear itself apart. But unlike months ago when you had caught them in the same predicament and cried all through the night and eventually fled from Velaris, no tears came this time. No tears at all. Instead white hot anger burned through you instead. 

You were tired of being captive to your own feelings. Tired of letting the stupid shadowsinger have so much power over you. You were so unbelievably tired of being constantly hurt by him. You couldn’t even use the excuse that he had no idea what he was doing to you when he had just made it so clear he did.

Your jaw tightened and you gave yourself over to the rage you felt. He had told you to stay away from him. So you would. But you sure as hell were about to make it impossibly hard for him to stay away from you. 

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The next two days, you did exactly that. You ignored Azriel entirely. Didn’t so much as look in his direction. At training each morning with the Valkyries, you made sure to have a sparring partner ready to go before he could even open his mouth and demand you train with him. You didn’t greet him, only hugged Cassian good-bye each day, and pretended you didn’t hear him when he would call out your name. 

Meanwhile, you had spent your time in heated negotiations with your brother. You were ready to carve a place out for yourself in this court and after many discussions with him, Feyre and Mor, you three had reached a compromise. A certain letter that came from the continent had helped you plead your case. 

And that is why when Rhys stood up at family dinner, clearing his throat to get everyone’s attention, you knew exactly what he was going to announce. You kept your hands folded in your lap, your shoulders held back, and your body angled away from the end of the table where the shadowsinger sat. 

“Another announcement in a week?” Cassian laughed. “Don’t tell me Feyre’s having twins!”

Everyone chuckled as Nesta slapped him on the back of his head. He only grinned at his mate, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. You smiled at their interaction despite the envy that crept its way into your head. Oh how you wished for that kind of love. Perhaps one day you would find your own mate and forget about the shadowsinger entirely. 

“Gods no,” Feyre chuckled from beside Rhys who conjured a piece of parchment in his hand. “We come with some news from the continent.” 

“I received some correspondence from Prince Cedric,” Rhys explained. “The King of Vallahan’s first born son and Heir to the Throne.” 

“Go on, read it to them,” Mor said with a giddiness that caused you to smile. 

Rhys read from the letter out loud:

To High Lord of the Night Court, Rhysand,

I am writing to you because I have had the pleasure of spending the past month in the company of your lovely sister, y/n. I must admit, your sister has charmed my heart with her kindness, grace, wit and loyalty to your court. We know very little of Prythian’s courts here on the continent, but if your sister is a shining example of your citizens, I must admit, I am all the more curious about your court. As you might know, I am next in line for the Crown and my time may be coming soon.

In a world dictated by power, alliances between territories have allowed for stability and peace. When my time to wear the crown comes, I would like it to also come with the forging of two strong realms. With the utmost sincerity and goodwill, I believe a union between our territories through marriage would not only reward me with a beautiful bride, but prosperity and peace between our people. I assure you, High Lord, that I will propose with sincere commitment to your sister, to give her a life filled with love and respect as my future Queen. 

I understand that this is not a decision that will be made without proper communications, so I am prepared to meet with you at your earliest convenience to discuss this matter further. I hope you consider my request and I will remain with anticipation until you reach out.

Sincerely yours,

Prince Cedric of Vallahan

Heir to the Throne

A fork dropped on the table somewhere behind you and the room was silent for a moment before Cassian let out a loud whistle. “Holy shit, y/n!”

Mor cackled, reaching over the table to give you a high five. “That’s right, our girl bagged herself a Prince.” 

Your cheeks turned a bit pink at the attention. To be honest, you had no idea that Prince Cedric had been captured by you. It wasn’t like you engaged in any romantic courting or even so much as touched each other's hands. But your mere personality had won him over. Too bad he just wasn’t the male your heart had set its course on. 

“Not just a Prince, girl,” Amren chimed in. “A future King.” 

You could feel a heavy gaze settle on you from the other side of the table but refused to look that way. 

“And what about you, y/n?” Nesta asked. “Did the Prince win over your heart as well?” 

“I must admit, the letter came as quite a surprise to me,” you answered honestly.

“To me, as well,” Mor jumped in. “I mean, it’s not like they spent much time together outside of the formal dinners and parties we attended while there. Unless, of course, you snuck off with him while I wasn’t watching, you naughty wench.” 

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “I assure you, I was a proper lady during our time at the King’s Cross.” 

“You certainly weren’t a proper lady during our time in Nysa,” Mor mumbled under her breath with a smirk. You kicked her under the table with a glare. 

You couldn’t stop yourself from glancing at Azriel this time. He was already staring at you, his jaw set, his fist clenched around the stem of his wine glass. You could’ve sworn a bit of jealousy shined in his eyes. You quickly looked away, not wishing to show him you even cared about his reaction, though you did. 

“Well, as fun as this is,” Cassian said. “There’s no way you’d marry off your sister to go live in another territory. Right, Rhys?” 

Rhys looked inclined to agree but Feyre nudged him in the gut with her elbow. “If that is what she wishes, she will always have my blessing. It is her choice, of course. But a marriage is not the announcement I planned on making today. I merely read this letter to you all to show you how successful y/n has been as a representative of our court. And because of that, we have officially decided to not only give her the title of Emissary, but she is also going to take over Mor’s position in the Court of Nightmares since Mor has had her hands full with negotiations on the continent.” 

“It's about time you let your sister prove herself as a valuable member of this court,” Amren said, the closest thing you’d ever get as a congratulations. She did give you a small smirk, pride shining in her silver eyes. 

“She has always been a valuable member,” Cassian snided but smiled at you regardless. “If this is what you want, y/n, then congratulations! I’m glad I’ve taught you all the ways to kick ass, especially if you’re now going to be spending more time in Hewn City.” 

You laughed but gave him your thanks. Feyre proposed a toast for you and you couldn’t keep the smile off your face for the rest of the night as they planned for announcing the shift in leadership to Hewn City. You had already bought your dress for the occasion, ready to make the shadowsinger eat his heart out. You even felt a bit vindicated as a certain male decided to spend the rest of his own night brooding in his shadows. 

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Azriel tossed and turned in his bed, unable to sleep. Both his mind and his shadows seemed to be in a permanent state of chaos ever since dinner. He couldn’t get the image of you smiling as Rhys read the Prince’s letter out of his mind. He had never considered the possibility of you leaving this court, had never thought Rhys would ever allow that. 

He threw his sheets off, standing up and prowling towards the floor length mirror in the corner of his room. His eyes fell on the skin above his hip, on the small tattoo of Illyrian wings with a sword going straight through the middle of them. 

He wished he could take truth-teller and slice that bit of skin right off his body. But even with its absence, the burden of it would never disappear. He let out a curse, pure rage racing through him. How could he have known things would turn out this way? How could he have known how much pain that tiny tattoo would eventually bring him?

His fist shot out, punching straight through the mirror. He was so angry he didn’t even feel the pain of the tiny shards of glass piercing his scarred flesh. Gods, this was all so fucked up. So incredibly fucked up. 

His heart pounded as he thought about how you had felt pressed against him that night on your balcony. How your scent had driven him crazy. How stunning you had looked under the moonlight in that tiny nightgown. The Princess of Night was an accurate title for you and all your beauty. 

He fell on his knees, the broken shards of glass crunching under his weight, letting the blood from his hand drip down on the floor. No pain would ever compare to the one he felt now. The pain of craving you. Craving the touch of your skin, the taste of your tongue, the moans he could drag from that pretty little mouth. 

And Gods, the way you had looked at him. He had almost caved. Had almost decided to burn it all to the ground for one chance to taste you, feel you, claim you. But he couldn’t. So he went back to doing what he always had–keeping you at a distance. It hurt to do so, even more so whenever he saw how much it hurt you, but it was better this way. You needed to move on, needed to look for love elsewhere. 

Life had always been unfair to him but this, this was quite possibly the worst of it. For he knew he would always yearn for you, crave you, love you—but only ever from a distance. Because for him, you…you had been made untouchable. 

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

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[potchi-fics]

councilor

i | ii

summary: a councilor reader and councilor sevika finally meet again after not seeing each other for years.

      a councilor is what you are gonna be from now on. may torman hoskel rest in peace, but he was as useless as a paralyzed kid given a bicycle– you suppose he did one good thing: voted for peace, but all in all, he did very little for being someone higher in ranks.

“madam,” your assistant, you consider her a friend, “it is almost time for your meeting.”

       you take one last glance at yourself in the mirror, you are wearing an elegant black silk dress adorned with silver accessories, and paired with black heels. you step outside to find your assistant waiting at your door holding a paper and pen. she nods at you as greetings.

your heels click against the tiles as you signal her to walk beside you, “how are you feeling today, alexandria?” 

“i must be the one asking you that,” a chuckle escapes from her, “councilor.”

your eyes roll at the title, “not yet, child.”

      you are decades older than your assistant, you have taken her under your wing; guiding and teaching her ever since she was a child. today is the day you get assigned to be a councilor for your house, for your nation. and, you vow to do and be better than the so-called councilor torman hoskel. just the thought of the useless man taints your good mood, your lips forming a thin line. too busy judging the dead in your mind, you do not notice that you have reached your destination: the councilors’ chambers.

“nervous?” your gaze travels from the door to alexandria, seeing her offer a comforting smile.

however, you only smirk cockily, “you should know by now that i do not do nervous. wait for me, will you?”

      and with that, you open the doors, swinging it open and catching the attention of the other councilors. they quiet down as you walk inside, offering them fake sweet smiles: what a bunch of low-class backstabbing morons.

you know what they are, a bunch of money and power-hungry freaks who do not care for anything other than themselves, sharks are what they are. you let your eyes roam around the room, taking in familiar faces— though you could only recognize a few, councilor shoola, former councilor caitlyn, and councilor salo. your smirk widens at the sight of the latest addition to the councilors, happy to see councilor sevika.

“welcome, councilors,” your attention is brought back to the center when you hear caitlyn’s booming voice, “thank you for making time for this meeting. as you all can see, a new figure will be sitting at this table in turn to replacing councilor torman hoskel.”

      in cue, all of the members stare at you, their eyes already judging and scrutinizing your entire being. you strut to where your seat is located, beside councilor salo: just my luck. you lock eyes with every single one, lingering your gaze on a certain zaunite a little longer. 

“anything you would like to say, councilor?” caitlyn asks you.

however, you only shake your head and dismiss the question, “with all due respect, i would like to keep this short.”

“quite rude, aren’t you? but i agree, i believe that there are more important things to talk about, zaun to be specific.” councilor salo laced his voice with disgust at the word zaun but before he could continue, you stepped in.

you bark a laugh, “well, you didnt see me calling you rude when i noticed you guesstimating me earlier, break a leg in getting better, councilor salo.”

      before it could escalate, caitlyn cleared her throat and concluded the meeting. she briefly mentioned that this day was for them to get to know you better but you dont think that’s happening anytime soon due to the scene you displayed earlier. to be fair, you always stand your ground. you see caitlyn approach you, along with her guard dog behind her.

“ms. kiramman,” you offer them both a nod of acknowledgment. 

vi snorts, making you raise your eyebrow, “sorry, but i just find it funny when you said break a leg on getting better.”

“stop,” caitlyn tries to scold her but its no use when vi’s barely holding in her laugh, “that certainly was unexpected. im looking forward to seeing your plans in action, councilor.”

“i was only…” your voice trails off, you take a seat on the side of your chair, “biting back, ms. kiramman. tell me, ms. kiramman, do you think that this council of ours can change the predicament we are in?”

she takes a moment before answering, “i am… unsure, but im looking on the bright side of it. ive heard about you, councilor, i know that you will do everything in your power to have what you want, that is why i voted for you to be seated in.”

“oh?” you cross your legs, the slit in your dress offering them a sight of your smooth leg, “buttering me up, ms. kiramman?”

      not only did caitlyn take the bait, you see vi take a peek at your exposed limb. you lean back and smile teasingly at the two, raising your perfectly sculpted eyebrow once again— causing the couple to flush bright pink. they bid you goodbye and it amuses you how they manage to bicker, you giggle knowing you were able to fluster them. you crack your knuckles and stretch your back, your eyes landing back on her.

councilor sevika.

oh, but she is already looking at you. oh, indeed. you uncross your legs and without breaking the eye contact, you saunter to where she is— only stopping when you are right in front of her. you address her.

“councilor shoola,” a hand darts out to propose a handshake. “it is nice to finally meet you. i believe our nation had been involved in a trading a while ago?”

councilor shoola accepts your handshake, “yes, yes, you’re correct. im also looking forward to working with you. i apologize for cutting our meeting short, but i need to talk about something with council–”

      you do not let her finish, you give her way, silently saying that it’s okay— she nods her head as a thank you and makes her way, leaving only you and sevika alone. 

your voice drops an octave lower, “councilor sevika, it is a pleasure to finally talk to you. i have heard many great things about you.”

“yeah?” her gruff voice weakens your knees, “bet it’s just me killing someone.”

      her eyes roll because that’s how the topsiders are, always mislabelling and spreading rumors. they were right of course but they don’t need to generalize her people. 

so grumpy, you think to yourself. “believe me, councilor, i have. also, aren’t you excited to see me?”

      you flutter your eyelashes at her, making yourself look just a tiny bit smaller. but all you get is a roll of eyes and a huff. but you do not let this bother you, you are here to work too after all.

“for what it is worth, sevika,” your arm moves to touch her bicep, “it is great to see you here, representing zaun.”

      her arm feels like it's on fire, and your touch feels like it's on fire. she looks down at your hand on her arm for a second before subtly shrugging it off. 

she stares coldly at you, “yeah, well, i need to do something or my home will fall apart.”

“yes, i am aware. and, for you to be able to achieve that, you will need help.” sevika shakes her head to interfere but you continue, “you will need resources, councilor, you will need funding and i will give it you— i will help you get it.”

“i do not need your hel–”

this time, you glare at her— your eyes seeming to glint dangerously under the light, your arms crossing, “shut it, councilor, you need me.” 

      you take a couple of steps towards her, uncrossing your arms and putting a finger underneath her strong jaw, you slowly lift her head. you mouth the words you need me; tapping her cheek and turning around to leave the room— not even caring to bid your farewell. she sees you talking with your assistant, and getting one last look from you before the door shuts behind you.

since when were you so commanding and assertive. sevika’s core clenched at your tone, her breath hitches, and her pupils dilating.

oh.

[sansaorgana]

— CHRYSALIS (II)

PART ONE

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!half-Vala/half-Elf!Reader (Morgoth's Daughter)

SUMMARY — Mairon is scheming to take over the armies of Morgoth. With his old master's daughter by his side he considers his claims to be legitimised, although he has to admit that her mood swings scare him sometimes. Well, one thing is certain – his wife keeps him on his toes. And their enemies are many, even amongst their own Lieutenants.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — It's been some time since part one but I needed a short break and I'm not going to lie but I have been distracted... Those of you who follow me, know already that I have a massive crush on Jack Lowden now... 🤣 It is honestly funny to me because I've known about this guy for years (he was even in one of my favourite TV shows ever aka War & Peace) but it was this one scene of the loser Sauron that pushed me into having a crush??? Seriously?! Anyway, yeah... I've been watching movies with him and at the moment I am in the middle of Slow Horses. Just saying because I have a feeling it is going to end up with a fanfic... 💀 Big shoutout and thanks to @olchr-1 because their comments under my fics about Mairon and Morgoth always inspire me! 💚

WARNINGS — toxic relationship (they're mutually toxic to each other), mentions of Morgoth's abuse towards Sauron, Reader is kinda unhinged (she is Morgoth's daughter, ok? what did you expect?), murder (as in – she murders [an Orc] AND she gets murdered), she's some sort of a ghost in the end (idk if it's a trigger but I'm writing it down in case it is...)

WORD COUNT — 6,140

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

CHRYSALIS (II)

“I do. I can see inside your mind.”

Mairon felt a shiver travelling down his spine at those words. (Y/N) had a sweet smile on her face but it still felt somehow sinister and embarrassing after realising she could have felt all his scheming regarding her.

“Do not be scared!” She whined and giggled as she brushed his ginger hair to put it behind his pointy ear. “I like you the way you are.”

Mairon cracked a smile at her and put his hands on her waist to pull her closer and join their lips together. The kiss started softly but it quickly turned into a heated one. (Y/N) moaned into his mouth and he groaned, pushing aside all the things on the table behind her to pick her up and sit her up on top of it.

Her fingers tangled in his hair and he could hear her heartbeat fastening as his shaky hands travelled to her back where he started to tug onto the lacing of her gown.

But at that, (Y/N) flinched and Mairon broke the kiss, taking a step back and looking at her with a raised eyebrow. She refused to meet his gaze and looked over his shoulder at the still unfinished item behind him.

“I think you still have work to finish, my husband,” she pointed out sweetly and how could he ever be angry at her when she addressed him so beautifully?

Mairon nodded at her and leaned in to steal one more kiss from her but this time it was only a peck on the lips.

He walked away from her to go back to reforging her father’s crown to fit him and she took off her leather apron and folded it neatly before putting it on the desk and leaving the forge without a word.

Mairon wondered quietly what was the reason for her sudden shyness when it came to being physical. How much had she witnessed about her parents’ relationship? And what had it been like?

Or perhaps (Y/N) was simply shy because she had been sheltered for her whole life.

Either way, she had agreed to share her life with him and that was enough for him. To have her close, to show her off as his – Melkor’s daughter, the heiress of darkness. She had chosen him – Mairon – to be her husband. There was no better legitimation for his coronation than this.

He finished his work and the sun was slowly setting in the sky although it was barely visible in their land of snow and cold either way. Mairon took off his apron and fixed his hair before taking the newly reforged crown and taking it to his chambers because he would never leave it unsupervised. Proud of his creation, he walked past (Y/N)’s chambers but he did not bother to check on her. She clearly needed her space now and he decided to give it to her.

After entering his chambers, though, Mairon froze at the sight of (Y/N) laying in his bed and smiling at him gently. She was wearing nothing but a beautiful nightgown made out of a sheer fabric that left very little to his imagination. Mairon swallowed a lump in his throat at the sight.

“I… I have finished,” he told her and placed the crown on top of a dresser, scared of her opinion as he usually was when it came to his craft.

“I can see. It is beautiful, you are very talented with your hands, my Sauron,” she whispered, surprisingly sweet, and Mairon smiled nervously at the praise before turning around to face her.

“Where did you get a nightgown like this?” He asked. After all, all her clothes had been gifts from him and he would never dare to give her such a thing before.

“So… You like it?” She giggled and Mairon’s heart skipped a beat. She had no idea how much he did. Or maybe she did – after all, she could get inside his head. “I know you do, my husband,” she sighed, “but I would like you to say it.”

“I… I do,” Mairon nodded and cleared his throat before sitting on the edge of his bed and carefully reaching his hand out to caress her cheek. “I like it. Very much,” he assured her. 

Oh, how the tables turned. Who was shy now?

When Mairon’s hand lowered and briefly touched (Y/N)’s nightgown, it suddenly disappeared completely, dissolved into air and there she was, naked for him. He looked into her eyes and she chuckled.

“So, it worked,” she whispered, proud of herself. “I learnt from you how to do it,” she confessed and sat up to cling to him and join their lips together in a kiss but this time it was him who was mostly sitting there, petrified to witness her being like that. “I’m sorry, am I doing something wrong?” (Y/N) furrowed her brow and moved away a little, shyly, visibly feeling embarrassed of herself.

And when she was like this, he felt way more confident. Mairon straightened his back and shook his head gently.

“No, my love, not at all. It’s just that I…” He took a deep breath in.

“That you’re a Maia, you were born to serve and not to experience such carnal desires,” she nodded and he closed his mouth. “And yet you do and you are confused but I know the answer.”

“You do?” Mairon inquired.

“I need you,” she breathed out and once more she moved closer to him to kiss the corner of his mouth as her hands caressed his neck with her fingertips. “And you love me. You serve me, Sauron. Therefore, when I need you, your flesh answers to my calling.”

And now it was him flinching at her words and she moved back once more, looking at him with confusion written all over her terrifyingly beautiful features.

“I’m sorry, I…” He fixed his hair with trembling hands as he looked away.

How could he tell her that when she was like this she reminded him of her father and it was not in the way he wanted to remember him? How could he tell her that it nearly scared him and it surely was not helping his desire? 

Melkor had reforged him the same way Mairon reforged his crown – his old self had been melted and twisted in the most wicked ways. But admitting it to her now would be humiliating.

When she was a shy, innocent maiden – he felt confident enough to give in to his desires and to devour her. But when she was showing confidence and was becoming needy herself – greedy for him and his service like his master once had been… He was simply shutting down.

“I would never hurt you, Sauron,” she whispered and he turned his head around to look at her, a little frustrated with the fact that she had been inside his head again – especially at a moment like that. “I would never hurt you first, that is,” she added. “And you have no reason to be embarrassed in front of me. I am your wife and your Queen,” she added.

“I want to be worthy of you but I do not think I ever will be…” He confessed, finally voicing out the fear he had been having for centuries now – from the moment he had seen her for the first time.

“Oh, but my sweet Sauron, do you not know…?” (Y/N) chuckled lovingly and moved closer to him once more but very slowly and carefully this time. She cupped his face and caressed his cheeks with her thumbs before leaning in to rub her nose with his. “I know you will never be and I still like you,” she smiled, probably thinking her words cheered him up but they only broke his heart.

Because what was her love then? Did she love him because he was a good pet? The most loyal servant? Was her love as wicked as her father’s?

“I am my mother’s daughter, too,” she reminded him and kissed his forehead. “I can be sweet and gentle with you, kiss every part of your flesh, every part my father hurt and twisted… Let me heal it,” she breathed out.

He would certainly let her try.

The fortress was the most quiet during the day because the Orcs mostly slept at that time. Mairon and (Y/N) laid in his bed for hours now, facing each other with their limbs tangled and noses brushing as they exchanged sweet kisses and her fingers caressed his hair.

“You are the most extraordinary creature I have ever laid my eyes on,” he breathed out.

“I know,” she smirked. “When will we leave here? I want to see the world,” her eyes sparkled.

“Do you really want to see it or perhaps you can’t wait for the world to fall on its knees at the sight of you?” Mairon wondered teasingly and she chuckled.

“I am aware the realms you will take me to are far from perfect but I will shape them to fit my will and vision,” she said. “And for that, they will build me altars.”

“And if they don’t?”

“Then you will certainly make sure they do,” she smirked sweetly but her eyes filled with mischief.

Mairon moved his head up slightly to kiss her on the mouth instead of making a promise with his words. Then, he laid down on the pillow and sighed at the sight of the reforged crown of Morgoth on top of his dresser.

“I will forge you a crown, too. I have an idea for its design already,” he promised. “And then, we will coronate ourselves and marshal our legions out of here.”

“I am shutting myself out of your mind then,” (Y/N) giggled. “I want the design to be a surprise,” she explained and kissed his cheek.

He couldn’t help the feeling that he indeed was her pet but perhaps she would be a much kinder owner than her father had been.

Tasarë woke up and leaned on the barren, dry tree as she sighed at the sight of the huge fortress in the horizon. They would arrive there in the afternoon on that day but she had not seen it last night due to the darkness. Now, in the hazy morning she was able to see what was awaiting her – the dreadful place and even more dreadful master within its walls. 

“Why me?” She asked Mairon while he was watching her with a mix of pity and relief that his task would be done soon.

“He saw you in my memories,” he confessed. She deserved to know the truth now, at the very end of their road together.

“You were that huge werewolf watching me in the forest,” Tasarë chuckled and shook her head. “I sensed your eyes on me.”

“And that was your demise. You know what they say – curiosity killed the cat,” Mairon crossed his arms and stood by her side, looking at the fortress ahead of them with pride.

“Why were you staring at me?” Tasarë inquired and Mairon shrugged his arms. He truly did not know.

“Something drew me in. Perhaps it was your fate,” he explained cruelly.

Cruelly, because what could this young and innocent maiden possibly have done to deserve such punishment?

“Please,” she took off her humble ring with a ruby stone on it, “take it,” she offered it to him as her eyes filled with tears.

“What is the meaning behind this gesture?” Mairon raised his eyebrows, a little mockingly staring at the ring in her trembling hand.

“I want you to keep it, a memory of me,” she explained. “A memory of who I am now, before your master bends me to his will,” she added and Mairon swallowed thickly at her words. “Please,” she begged and he finally took the ring from her hand and caressed it with his fingers.

“Why are you giving this to me? It was me who brought this down upon you and it was me delivering you to him,” Mairon asked, confused.

“Who am I supposed to give it to?” She asked and laughed through the tears as she looked around. No one else was there. Then, her face became serious again. “I can still feel the light of Valinor deep within you,” she whispered, her voice nearly inaudible and a shiver went down his spine at her words. “You are a Maia. An emissary of the Valar.”

“I serve only one of them,” he explained.

“Whatever. You just do what you were made for – you serve,” she nodded and turned her head around, leaving his head a mess.

Her words were an explanation why she couldn’t hate him completely. But they also were an insulting reminder that he was nothing compared to his master – he was replaceable and meaningless.

“We should go,” he muttered and hid the ring inside one of his pockets.

Mairon played with Tasarë’s ring between his fingers for one last time before breaking it apart in his forge to extract the red ruby stone and put it in (Y/N)’s crown. Made of her father’s iron and decorated with her mother’s stone, it was pretty humble and smaller than Mairon’s but he made sure it looked as intimidating as his own.

He did not mean to insult his wife with its design – quite the contrary. Her power was of the raw kind and she did not need any further decorations. Unlike him, humbly Maia who was constantly trying to hide the fact he still felt like a nobody. And he knew he would not have to explain it to her because she would know – she could read his mind, after all.

When the crown was forged, he took it carefully into his hands and carried it back to the chambers he was sharing now with her. (Y/N) was standing by the window and staring outside, sighing at the only sight she had ever known – endless snow and cold.

“When will we leave here, Sauron?” She asked with a whine.

“Soon, my darling. Very soon. Look what I have for you,” she smiled gently and could feel his cheeks burning.

This, so far, was the most significant gift he had ever given her. Perhaps even while proposing to her he had not been so nervous.

She turned around and he held his breath, waiting for her opinion and he knew that she was a cruel judge of his presents and craft.

(Y/N)’s eyes widened and she froze for a moment before approaching him to take a better look.

“It surely holds lots of power,” she nodded as her fingertips caressed the ruby of the crown. She smiled to herself, sensing her mother as she looked at her husband’s face, finding his eyes. She searched his mind to look for the explanation and then she nodded at him. “Did you love my mother?” She asked, suddenly.

Mairon’s heart skipped a beat.

“She was not mine to love,” he only answered.

“And I am?” (Y/N)’s eyes sparkled cruelly. She could have promised him hundreds of times she would never hurt him but sometimes her father’s nature would overtake her in those little moments, keeping him on his toes. He did not believe her promises at all.

In fact, he was quite scared of his own wife. But that was the price he had to pay for binding himself to such a powerful creature just to be able to bask in her light and to use her power to increase his own influence.

“I understand that you do not like the crown,” he admitted his defeat, looking down.

“On the contrary. It is splendid. Your finest work so far, husband,” she explained and took the item gently from his hands as he laid his eyes on her once more – his needy, yearning gaze, desperate for her praise. “It is simple and humble and yet so powerful, detailed and exquisite. It takes real talent of the greatest craftsman to forge such a beauty,” she admitted and put it onto her head before turning around to look at herself in the mirror. She was smiling and Mairon took a deep breath out of relief.

“I shall inform Adar to gather his armies for our coronation,” Mairon bowed his head slightly.

“Do we need an official coronation? In front of these… creatures?” (Y/N) winced. “We can do whatever we want, can we not?”

“Yes, of course we can,” Mairon cleared his throat. What he really meant was that she could do whatever she wanted. But even that was not entirely true because her lack of experience would soon overshadow her natural inheritance. “It will just send a message to all the right people and look more significant in their eyes if we go through with the whole ceremony.”

“We did not have any ceremony for our wedding,” she pointed out. “You truly show your priorities now, dear husband.”

“Marriage is a sacred and intimate union, I do not care for the audience when it comes to it. My love and devotion are only for you to see,” he answered.

“I understand,” she nodded and turned her head around to look directly into his eyes instead of reading his face from the mirror’s reflection. “But on the next day after our coronation we are leaving this place. And we are never coming back here.”

“Yes, my Lady,” Mairon nodded.

“In fact, I have a perfect usage for the North,” she shrugged her arms and looked back into the mirror to adjust the crown on her head and admire herself.

“And that is…?” Mairon furrowed his brows, a little scared of her answer.

“It will be a perfect prison for our enemies, it is going to be where we will send those who refuse to follow us,” she smiled.

“Why would we not simply kill them?” Mairon wondered out loud. That seemed like a waste of resources.

“And where is the fun in that?” She huffed, reminding him of her father once more.

And then, she reminded him of Melkor even more because she added the line his old master had often been repeating:

“You are too stiff. One of the best things about holding power is that we set the rules and we can make them as enjoyable as we wish.”

They completed each other. His robes were red and heavily decorated with golden elements and details such as chains and embroidered words in black speech. Her robes were the same, only golden with red thread and red decorations. Together they presented themselves very regal but it was very clear which one of them held more power even though she was standing behind him with her hands clasped behind her back.

(Y/N) could feel Adar’s eyes on her, eyeing her up and down constantly but as much as she tried to get inside his mind, he was pushing her away. It was nearly embarrassing that she could not get through but there were things her husband did not know of – for example that her power was not as vast as he thought. 

With proper training, perhaps one day she could live up to the image he had of her inside his mind but the real reason why she could search through him so easily was because she shared a special bond with Mairon. Her father had left the door open within his servant’s broken and twisted mind and it was easy for her to sneak in now, especially when he was not really fighting her abilities back – trained like a good dog by Melkor to obey such infiltrating requests and just allow it to happen.

Adar was shaped by Melkor, too, but he was different. He held no love in his heart for his former master. And… simply – nearly embarrassingly simply – (Y/N) did not love him.

But she loved Mairon and he loved her. That was making the whole deal of reading his mind much easier.

She could only guess what Adar was thinking but she could sense some odd mix of pity and resentment upon his face whenever he looked at her. 

When the right time came, he nodded at her and she took a step ahead to touch her husband’s arm and squeeze it. He turned his head to glance at her with a soft smile.

“We can start now,” she whispered and he nodded.

“Are you sure you do not want to do this with me?” He asked.

“No, better not… I am not yet prepared to give speeches,” she took a few steps back again to hide a little in the shadows, as if it was possible while wearing such robes.

Mairon licked his lips and took a deep breath in before addressing the filthy creatures staring at him with widened eyes, curiously waiting for his words.

He nearly felt embarrassed that they were the army he was offering to his wife. She deserved real, powerful battalions. And she would have them very soon once they’d conquer more lands.

“Always, after a defeat… the shadow takes another shape and grows again,” he began, watching two Orcs carrying two crowns on black, velvet cushions. Once more, he winced a little at the realisation how humiliating it had to be for his wife to have her crown being carried to her by such a filthy creature. “Morgoth is gone,” he continued, “leaving us alone and disgraced. But today, a new age begins,” he added and fidgeted with his fingers, nervously. “Under me and my wife. Your new masters. Sauron and Lady (Y/N),” he introduced the woman the Orcs were the most curious about as he reached out his arm and she sighed, taking it and walking up to him to show herself although she had just asked him not to put her on display.

“What they say is true. My wife is a daughter of Morgoth,” Mairon announced, proudly and with a big grin on his face.

“And my husband – his most faithful and powerful Lieutenant,” (Y/N) announced, trying to legitimise his claims in the eyes of their army.

Perhaps she deserved it all more than him but the truth was that without his support she would not go far. He was far more experienced than her and he had been taking part in real battles for her father. 

“And with a new age, we bring you a new vision. A path to unconditional conquest,” Mairon promised, addressing the Orcs but squeezing his wife’s hand and she squeezed his back, sensing his nervousness. “For we seek a new kind of power,” he let go of her hand and raised his own as he spoke as if he was giving them all a lesson. (Y/N) clasped her hands on her abdomen, nearly humbly, but she remained right by his side this time without retreating to the shadows. “Not of the flesh, but over flesh. A power of the unseen world. One we shall use to enslave the peoples of Middle-earth to our very will,” Mairon explained.

The Orcs looked at each other and hummed to themselves, quite satisfied with such a promise. (Y/N) cracked a smile at her husband and he smiled back but his face went very serious again.

“Many Orcs will die,” he added and the atmosphere inside the room shifted immediately as the Orcs changed their humming into growling.

“But out of the chaos, we will forge a new and perfect order. No longer will we be hunted as the demons who broke Middle-earth, but rather worshipped as the saviours who finally healed it,” Mairon tried to show some excitement while explaining his plan to the Orcs, hoping they would share his enthusiasm. After all, they were not very intelligent beings. “By bringing its peoples together, to rule them all as one!” He raised his hands but the Orcs were not calmed down at all.

Malicious whispers in Black Speech echoed through the room – “Sauron lies”.

(Y/N) moved uncomfortably and glanced at her husband but he was too embarrassed to lay his eyes upon her as well. He was slowly starting to feel humiliated and to be humbled in front of her was nearly as dreadful as death. He was desperate to prove his worth to her, to make her see that he was truly a worthy successor of her father. But whatever he was proving now was the fact he was nothing but still his pathetic servant. A shadow of Melkor.

“Doubt me at your peril,” he continued but his voice slightly trembled out of nervousness and he clasped his hands in the same manner as his wife had clasped hers. However, he managed to lower his voice once more and make it sound dark again. “You have nowhere else to turn. The Valar will never forgive you. Elves will never accept you,” he pointed out. “Men… Men will never look upon you with anything but horror and disgust,” he added with a hint of satisfaction and contempt.

The Orcs’ growling did not stop. In fact it had gotten worse.

“A corrupted and ignoble race, worthy only to be haunted and slaughtered,” Mairon ignored their unhappy reaction as he went on.

From the corner of her eye, (Y/N) spotted one of the Orcs standing nearby – chosen to be one of their personal guards – shifting slightly and she spotted a dagger in his hands.

“Watch out!” She gasped at her husband and took a step back, watching him turn around quite elegantly and slitting the Orc’s throat swiftly in self-defence.

The audience went completely quiet and (Y/N) blinked a few times at the sight. She had never witnessed her husband like that and if he cared so much about proving his worth – perhaps at this very moment he just had.

The Orc fell down to his knees, choking on his own blood. (Y/N) approached Mairon, feeling Adar’s intense gaze on her back. Her husband pulled the Orc even closer to himself and watched the life leaving his victim with fascination and resentment. (Y/N) tilted her head and watched, too.

And after a while, she reached for her own dagger and finished the assassin off with a few systematic and rough thrusts. After the last one, the Orc’s body fell down lifeless and bleeding. (Y/N) looked up into her husband’s eyes. She could sense he was surprised and impressed but he chose not to show it.

Mairon turned around to run his hands through his ginger hair that had gotten ruffled in the fight. He wanted to always present himself neatly in front of his followers, therefore he smoothed them in a nonchalant manner that also betrayed his nervousness.

(Y/N) did not bother to fix anything about her appearance while she hid her blade away without even wiping it. Her anger rose as she looked at the filthy army of the Orcs below them.

“We are your only future and our path is your only path!” She yelled at them, feeling her face swelling up with thick, black blood she inherited from her father’s cursed flesh he had been bound to. Another long silence occurred at her outburst and she felt herself calming down a little at the sight of the Orcs tilting their heads. Perhaps only now they had truly realised whose daughter she really was and that it was not wise to raise her anger. “Who among you dare say otherwise?” She asked, calmly.

No one dared to say anything, therefore she stood by Adar’s side and he took Mairon’s crown from one of the velvet cushions. Her husband was supposed to be crowned first and she cracked a smile at him once he was kneeling down, presenting himself nearly humbly as he waited for Morgoth’s reforged crown to be put onto his head.

The Orcs were growling and snarling when Adar raised the crown to show it to them but now, when (Y/N) had tasted their blood, she was not afraid to taste more. She would fight each one of them if she had to. It was her right. Her father had created them and they had no right to question her or her husband.

She had chosen Mairon to be her companion. Perhaps he had been manipulating her into this choice but, in the end, it had been entirely her decision to choose him despite everything. The only person in the whole world who had any right to question him was she. Nobody else.

She was about to become the Queen of Middle-earth and only the Queen could question her King Consort. The one she had chosen for herself.

She got a little dreamy thinking all these thoughts and spotted Mairon looking up to meet her gaze. He was so uncertain at the moment, so humiliated and so humble… Her heart clenched inside her chest as she sent him an encouraging and loving smile. It visibly soothed him and he looked down once more.

Perhaps he would never be truly worthy of her but still – out of all the men in Middle-earth – he was the most worthy one.

“All Hail, Lord Sauron and Lady (Y/N)!” Adar exclaimed in the Black Speech. “The New Dark Lord and The Dark Queen.”

A shiver of anticipation travelled down her body. Perhaps her husband would never be truly worthy of her but the truth was – she would not have been there if it was not for him. He made it all possible. He was the one to take her back from her father’s cold realm created to protect her. Because, genuinely, she was not sure if she had been able to get out of there alone.

She owed him everything just like he owed everything to her.

“All hail!” The Orcs chanted hesitantly and Adar walked up to Mairon.

(Y/N) watched Adar carefully – something was not right about him, something was very off-putting and very worrying. She furrowed her brows and then she realised what he was about to do after raising the crown up and turning it around in a swift movement, directing the iron spikes at Mairon.

“No!” She yelled and jumped into the front but a sharp pain in the abdomen stopped her from continuing.

“No!” It was Mairon’s turn to scream now as she looked down and saw the spikes of her father’s crown buried deep into her stomach. She raised her eyes and furrowed her brows at Adar – her assassin. There was satisfaction written all over his face.

“I pitied you… But you are just like him,” he whispered before taking the spikes out of her body and turning around to attack Mairon with them now. (Y/N) reached her hands out weakly but she fell to her knees and grabbed her hurt stomach.

She should not die easily – after all she was half a Vala. But she was also half an Elf and the Vala who was her father had been bound to his flesh. Therefore, an item so powerful was able to defeat her – or at least to destroy her flesh.

She choked at the blurred sight of her husband being pierced through with Morgoth’s crown and then a bunch of Orcs came at him. He was trying to fight them back bravely and get to her, shouting her name but it was all for nothing. There were too many of the Orcs keeping them apart and tearing him to pieces.

(Y/N) sobbed and Adar crouched down next to her, holding her chin up so her dying eyes could still see her husband’s torment.

“The legacy of your father is gone now,” Adar whispered right before she lost consciousness.

When (Y/N) came back to reality, she felt her own presence but there was no shape nor flesh around it. She existed as a spirit and she found herself inside the very same hall she had been slain in but it was empty now. There were dark shadows where her body and her husband’s body had laid in the puddles of thick, black blood as anger filled her whole presence at the memory of betrayal.

She felt the cold wind coming inside through the doors and she was on her way outside, already trying to come up with what her next flesh would look like. She had lost the one she was given by birth – the one which actually looked like a mix of her mother and the body her father had been bound to. But now she would forge a new flesh for herself and she had to admit that was quite exciting. Perhaps without pointy ears this time – to blend in with the crowd.

Her plan was to leave the North and to go South. To join the humans and the Elves and all the other creatures living there – to meet them, to see how they lived, to learn their patterns and about the world she was supposed to rule one day.

Finally she would leave the land of the endless snow. Where once her father and then her husband had kept her as if she was their prisoner.

But as she moved closer and closer to the door, she felt a tugging presence within the walls of the abandoned fortress. Sauron.

He was still alive somehow – in a way – just like she was but much weaker and not as aware of his own self as she was. It was no surprise, after all he was only a Maia.

And if she left him now, perhaps he would never survive on his own.

(Y/N) froze right in front of the doors leading outside. She wanted to go, she really did. She had craved to see the world ever since she had been a little girl…

But she could not leave him. She could not leave Sauron. Her husband. 

She remembered his nervous smile, his fidgeting fingers, his ginger hair, his blushing cheeks. How he would steal delicate kisses from her, how they would lay in each other’s arms under the covers and whisper sweet things. How his eyelashes would brush the skin of her cheeks in the most intimate moments.

She could not leave him. He needed her.

Even though she was not sure if he would do the same thing for her.

And just like that, she retreated and went down to the dark, cold and damp corridors under the fortress. And even though she was capable of forging herself a new flesh much quicker than he was, she delayed it because she allowed his weak and pathetic form to feed off of her energy to keep him strong and alive. She was giving herself away to him – piece by piece, which was slowing down her own progress of forging new body but it was increasing the speed of his. And she nearly felt chained with her own devotion instead of the real chains – just like her mother remained chained to her father in some foreign realm where Melkor was being punished.

“You can heal, too,” Mairon assured (Y/N) and reached out to help the dying butterfly. “Look,” he focused on giving away some of his energy to make the butterfly regain its strength and the young woman’s eyes sparkled as she laughed.

“You fed him with your own spirit,” (Y/N) noticed. “Why do you think I would let any parasite feed off of me? Who would be ever worthy of sharing my power?” She asked and Mairon’s mouth opened slightly.

This conversation had taken place when they had first met. Apparently, she found out the answer to her question – who would ever be worthy of sharing her power? He was.

(Y/N) was half-Elf and Elves were mortal creatures in a way they could be slain or fatally injured. When Adar had killed her, he had killed the elven part of her. The light was gone from her body now and it was no longer a question of whether she would tilt into the light or the darkness. Oh, no… The decision was made.

“Once we get out of here, once we forge ourselves new flesh, my darling,” she cooed to the black, slimy creature that remained all left of her husband at the moment, “we will have our revenge. And do not even try to stop me from destroying anything or anyone,” she threatened as the black, weakly breathing substance whined. “You are right, my sweet, the world needs to be healed. But it is far too rotten. We have to start over. We have to rebuild it once more, from the ashes of the current one. The Dark Queen and her Dark Lord.”

She had been nothing but a chrysalis so far but – soon – she would bloom into a beautifully terrifying butterfly.

Into her father’s daughter.

MASTERLIST

[withlove-xixi]

— LACE LATTICE LULLABY: spike spiegel x reader

KINKTOBER DAY TEN: LINGERIE ᥫ cw: nsfw, lingere, blood/injury mention ᥫ wc: 1019 ★ never posting for this guy again ever because i hate him i hate him he is my arch nemesis and i want him dead (he is my all time favorite husband wawa he makes me light headed and gives me a stomach ache and i hate him) cross posted on ao3 — MINORS DNI! —

— YOU WERE JUST FULL OF SURPRISES WEREN’T YOU?

[♡]: spike hates surprises. what? half the time they were stressful, more than anything. they ruined his good mood and only ever made his bad moods worse. and you? you were full of surprises. honestly, the way you’ve wound spike so tightly around your finger is surprise enough. hell, if anything, it’s the most surprising thing you’ve done! but every now and then, you try to outdo yourself, whether you know it or not.

GOD, TODAY WAS SHIT.

It had started off shit, from the moment he woke up and slipped on some unfolded dirty laundry and hit his head against the ground to the moment Ein jumped on his lap causing him to spill hot coffee all over himself. Faye made sure to remind him of the incidents throughout their day together chasing after a decent bounty, making sure to rub into his face how today was just not his day. Especially when he had nearly crashed the Swordfish II into a building after failing to maneuver away from a flock of birds or when a car had hit him when they had chased the bounty on foot or when a door had suddenly flung open and whacked him directly in the face. At least someone was having a good time.

And after all that trouble, they had lost the bounty. One of Spike’s many misfortunes had caused them to get too far ahead for them to chase and hide within a crowded marketplace. And despite going through almost half the trouble, Faye was still gleefully giggling about everything, going as far as calling Spike on their comms to tease him about it, because as much as her day was bad, Spike was definitely having a far worse one. Needless to say, the flight back home to the Bebop was excruciatingly torturous.

Every bone in Spike’s exhausted body screamed and pleaded for rest, begged to lay on his old mattress and sleep for the next two days. His muscles ached and his wounds seared in pain at every moment, every step that took him closer to his room. Though his room was in a sorry state (perhaps in an even worse one than Spike was), it was far more favorable to sleep away his aches than to be awake even a second longer to feel every ounce of pain that surged through his body.

He was grateful at least that Jet hadn’t found out yet that he and Faye had lost the bounty, otherwise he’d be getting an hour-long earful of a lecture on how little funds they had left and how much they needed if they wanted to have a decent next meal. And at least Ed and Ein didn’t crowd on him too much for stories or souvenirs or other such antics, though he was half-certain the pissed off look on his face was enough to care the two away for even a couple of hours. Because really, at the end of a terribly shitty day, all Spike wanted to do was sleep or drink his troubles away. And the Bebop had recently run out of its supply of alcohol (he knows because he was the one to have depleted it), sleep was the best option. He could get some decent shut-eye before he had to get up for a disappointing dinner and to be patched up for his wounds.

With a groan he slides open the door to his room, a brief moment of relief washing over him when he’s met with the familiar sight of a messy, dimly lit, cramped bedroom. Briefly because as soon as he swings the door open, he’s punted in the face with something forceful and soft. Spike lets the pillow thud onto the ground, his body going rigid partly because he was so desperately trying to keep his cool and because, again, several times today he had been hit in the face, he’s pretty sure his nose was somewhat broken and he’s certain that a pillow to the face was only going to make the pain sting a bit longer.

You fail to notice the tired expression on his face or the dried up blood or his tattered clothes when you sit up on his bed and begin lecturing him, and honestly, he’s a bit too tired to register what you’re saying. Something, something, what took you so long, something, something, it was freezing. He only sighs deeply as you get up, he assumes to supposedly jut your nagging finger at his chest, but he watches as you suddenly freeze and your expression changes almost instantaneously.

Suddenly you’re nearly crying, hurriedly and panickedly yelling apologies and gingerly running your hands over his wounds. “What the hell happened to you?” You cry out, your frustrated tone long shifted into one of pure worry and concern. “Oh my God, I am so sorry. I didn’t know— I-I didn’t mean to yell at you—”

He lets you run your mouthful of apologies, sighing through his nose as his hands find purchase in your hips. Spike was meant to rub circles onto your skin, a way to calm you down and soothe himself of his worries, but his hands feel something unfamiliar, the tips of his fingers brushing against something soft and thin. He spares a perplexed glance down at you as you’re rambling away on how you were going to patch him up as soon as possible, and his eyes widen almost instinctively at what you’re wearing.

It’s some thin thing that barely covers your body, a pretty, little, lacey black number that graces your skin so beautifully Spike’s body instantly tenses at the sight, which only causes you to panic really because suddenly he’s stiff as a board. His mouth hangs ajar, saliva pooling inside it and threatening to drip down the corners of his lips.

“Sp-spike? What’s wrong? Does something hurt? Are you—”

Words die in your throat when you feel his fingers play at the hem of your lingerie, boldly tracing against the patterns of the lace with an almost feather-light touch. A shiver runs down your spine as his fingers slowly dip beneath the fabric, wedging them snugly against the garter and your flesh. He leans down, against your ear and he can’t even form the words to speak to you so he pants heavily into the shell of your ear. Spike’s quickly rewarded with a soft whimper from your lips.

“Spike…” Your voice is like heaven, so needy and quiet like it were something sacred.

Today was worth all the trouble.