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maidragoste · 2 years ago

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The Decision

Daemon Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader, minor Harwin Strong x Velaryon!Reader, Rhaenyra Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader

Again another AU with the reader of The Sea Dragon, The Clubfoot and The Green Queen (you don't need to read it to understand this one shot because this story starts LONG BEFORE the canon of that universe).

Summary: When King Viserys announces that he plans to marry you, you make a decision to avoid becoming the king's wife.

Now you can read this bonus!

TW: This is NSFW (if you don't like it you can read only the Rhaenyra and Harwin parts)

I was dying to share this with all of you so I hope you like it!

If you want to read more of this Reader and Daemon, don't hesitate to let me know in the comments or in my inbox 🤭

REBLOGS, comments and likes are always greatly appreciated 🥰🥰💖💖

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes. Also this is my first smut so sorry if it's weird to read.

You felt your heart hammering as you waited for the king to make his announcement. Your stomach wouldn't stop spinning and you have no idea how you still hadn't vomited up what you had for breakfast.

With every passing second you have to keep yourself from running out of the council chambers. You couldn't stop looking at your father, a part of you wanted to take his hand and ask him to get you out of here but you didn't trust him anymore. You were in this situation because of him. You always knew that your father is a proud and ambitious man but you never thought that his ambition would be greater than his love for you. If your father really loved you he wouldn't have sent you to the king's chambers. He wouldn't have made you start wearing dresses that showed more skin for your visits with him. Gods, you wanted to hit your father so badly, you wanted to wipe the smile off his face because both he and you knew what Viserys was going to announce. Everyone knew it, you noticed that Otto Hightower was trying to hide his annoyance from everyone, the only one who seemed unaware of the tension in the room was Rhaenyra.

“I have decided to take a new wife,” the king began and you noticed how he and Rhaenyra exchanged a look. You were surprised to see your cousin nod as if she was permitting him to move on. Did Rhaenyra know? Did she approve of this? “I intend to get married,” he continued, this time looking at you and your father. You forced a smile as you dug your nails into your palms, feeling helpless for being in this situation “with Lady Y/N Velaryon before spring.”

Your eyes met Rhaenyra's purple ones. There was none of the love or fun you usually saw. Now she was looking at you with a mixture of pain and fury. The pain in your stomach got worse. Nyra had never looked at you like that. This shouldn't be happening.

It was obvious that she didn't know that her father was planning to marry you. You wanted to scream, you wanted to hug her and tell her that this wasn't what you wanted, that you weren't trying to steal her mother's place, that you would never do anything to hurt her.

"Rhaenyra" the king called her but the princess left the chambers anyway. You couldn't take this anymore so you went after her, ignoring your father's calls.

You followed the princess. You could feel the fabric of your dress sticking together due to perspiration, you didn't know if it was because of your nerves or because you were practically almost running after Rhaenyra. It was uncomfortable but right now you didn't care. You needed to clear things up with her. You couldn't stand that she hated you.

"Nyra" you called when she finally stopped. You two were in the gardens, in front of the heart tree. Where more than once you had Rhaenyra lay with her head in your lap while you sang her any song she wanted. Where you two used to stay out in the sun complaining about the septa's lessons while you combed her hair. This tree has so many good memories and now you fear there will be no more.

"How could you?!" she yelled at you furiously. She couldn't believe how you had been by her side, comforting her, accompanying her in her grief, remembering the stories the both shared with her mother so that later you went behind her back to conquer her father. When her father told her that he needed to take another wife she thought it would be Laena Velaryon. Not from you. Never from you. You were supposed to be hers.

"Please, Nyra, don't hate me" you begged and grabbed her hands desperately, pulling her closer to you "I swear I didn't want this but my father" you shook your head and forced yourself to continue talking trying to ignore the knot in your throat "I'll find a way to fix this, I promise" you kissed her hands.

The princess studied you for a few minutes. She needed to check that you weren't faking this just to avoid her anger. Your eyes seemed to be glazed over from the tears you were holding back and your hands clung to her desperately.

“I believe you,” she finally said and you sighed in relief.

"Thank you", you said with a shaking voice

This time it was Rhaenyra who kissed your hands and rested her forehead against yours. You closed your eyes feeling at peace for a moment knowing that she didn't hate you.

"I won't marry your father, Nyra. I promise."

If it weren't for the fact that she was now the heir to the throne, Rhaenyra would have told you that you would run away with her, that the two of you would go together on your dragons and travel the world together, and that you didn't need a husband, that if you wanted her, she would take you as a wife. But now she had obligations, she couldn't abandon everything for you even if her heart screamed for her to do so.

After clearing things up with Rhaenyra you went to your chambers. Of course, your father was waiting for you, he scolded you for your abrupt departure but he left you alone once you told him that you had managed to calm the princess's annoyance. Being alone you decided to put your plan into action, first you took a bath with the purpose of relaxing and getting rid of any trace of nerves you had before, then you put on one of your simplest dresses and placed a hooded cape on top to hide your hair. You were leaving the castle and you didn't need anyone to follow you.

You successfully slipped away and headed out into the streets in search of Harwin. You knew that today he had to stand guard on the streets of Flea Bottom. A girl in your position shouldn't be here but you didn't care. You needed to talk to him as soon as possible.

“Harwin” you called him when you finally found him.

“Lady Velaryon, you should not be here,” said the guard, gently hugging you by the shoulders and taking you to a corner further away from the people.

It felt bad to hear him call you in such a formal way when for weeks he had been calling you by your name or “sunshine”, the nickname he had given you. You remember like it was yesterday when you kissed him for the first time after he explained to you that the reason he called you that was because you brightened his days every time he saw you.

This sudden formality was like a slap in the face and he confirmed what you already feared.

“You know,” you declared sadly.

“My father told me,” he admitted, releasing you. You weren't surprised since Lyonel is on the council and had been present at this morning's meeting. You suspected that Harwin's father thought it would be best for him to find out from him rather than from someone else since you were sure that Lord Strong and your parents knew about the meetings between you and Harwin. You thought it was no secret that he was courting you, but apparently, not everyone knew because otherwise, Viserys would not have chosen you as his wife. Or maybe he knew but didn't care.

“This doesn't have to change what's between us,” you said as you stood on tiptoe to have his face closer to yours. “I don't want to marry the king. I want you” you whispered against his lips but without touching them. Harwin had to control himself from closing the small distance between you and kissing you. “Make me your wife,” you asked before capturing his lips with yours.

You froze when Harwin walked away from you.

“I can't,” he whispered and closed his eyes to avoid seeing the disappointment on your face.

“I thought you loved me” In your voice there was more anger than sadness but your body language was different, you found yourself hugging yourself trying to comfort yourself. You were disappointed.

“I do,” he stated firmly, opening his eyes so you could see that he spoke sincerely. “I love you. If it were any other man he would fight for you but…”

His silence told you everything. He loved you but it's not enough to face the king.

“You're a coward,” you spat and left the way you came.

You didn't really think Harwin was a coward but you were hurt by his rejection. You felt stupid to believe that whatever Harwin felt for you would be bigger than any coherent thought but you can't blame him after all any intelligent person would be afraid to go against the king's wishes and steal his fiancée…

But all was not lost, you knew someone well who was not afraid of Viserys and could help you. It was a desperate move and your parents would think you were an idiot for this but you refuse to be the king's wife. You had seen how as the years went by and with each pregnancy, Queen Aemma deteriorated. You didn't want the same thing.

You wrote to Daemon. You told him that the king wanted to marry you but that you were seeking to avoid this marriage and that you needed his help. You waited anxiously for his response while you had to feign excitement every time someone talked about your wedding preparations. Luckily it didn't take that long for a crow to arrive with the rogue prince's answer. There were no reassuring words in his letter, the only thing the scroll said was "Come to Dragonstone."

And that's what you did. Nobody suspected when the next day you went on the back of your dragon since everyone knew that there was not a day in which you did not disappear for a couple of hours to go flying with Nightwing.

"My prince, Lady Y/N Velaryon!" The guard announced your arrival before letting you enter the chambers where the prince was staying.

Daemon, who had seen you approach with Nightwing from the window, had his back turned but turned to look at you. He hasn't seen you in months. Your hair was longer and you seemed to have changed the way you dressed. The blue dress you were wearing seemed to have more cleavage, it wasn't anything scandalous enough for the court to talk about but it did draw attention.

"It's good to see you, Y/n" Daemon stated making you smile. You were sure that this was the first sincere smile you had given in days.

You waited for the guard to leave. Once you heard the sound of the door closing, you began to walk towards the prince without haste, trying to show as much confidence as possible. Normally you wouldn't be nervous around Daemon but you hadn't seen him in months and he was the only person who could help you. You didn't want to ruin this.

*I'm wondering the same. These months without you were boring "You weren't lying or trying to sugarcoat it to achieve your goal, it was simply the truth. Every time he leaves court you wish for his return.

"You still didn't come after me" Daemon held back his smile when he saw the surprise in your eyes.

He liked seeing that look in your eyes. Every time he brings you something new from his travels, every time he teaches you a new move in the training yard, every time he asks you for his favor in tournaments. How he had missed seeing you. He wouldn't tell you but he had missed you these past few months. So imagine his fury when after so long the first news he receives from you is that his brother plans to marry you. You are too much of a woman for Viserys. His brother wouldn't know what to do with you. You would spend the rest of your life bored. Daemon couldn't allow it.

"I didn't know you wanted that," you said, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"I invited you to go with me on my next trip, didn't I?"

Before Queen Aemma's death, when you helped Daemon put on his armor for the tournament you complained about the lengthening of his travels. The prince's response was to invite you to go with him next time. You were so excited to accompany him on his trips that you didn't wait for the tournament to end to ask your parents for permission. But then Aemma died and you didn't dare leave Rhaenyra.

You laughed. “That wasn't a trip, Daemon. Viserys exiled you.”

"And now he will exile you" he mocked, making you irritated but you quickly forgot about your irritation when Daemon placed his hands on your waist and pulled you closer to him, leaving your bodies pressed together. You should be uncomfortable with this but you're not. "You understand? Right? You know what you were asking for when you asked me for help?" He asked, studying your reaction. He needed to see that you really understood what you were about to do. This was your time to repent. But he didn't find uncertainty in your eyes if not desire, you looked at him with pure desire.

"I know," you responded, trying to ignore the flutter of emotion you felt at the intensity of the prince's gaze. You should be against doing this after all your reputation would be ruined but deep down you always wanted to have even a little bit of Daemon.

In reality, there was always a tension between the two of you. More than once you two ended your fights in the yard more irritated than you were before you started because after so much friction, touching, and sweat you both wanted to do something else that you couldn't. You didn't want to be the other woman and Daemon for once wanted to make things right with you. He hoped that one day Viserys would annul his marriage to Rhea Royce to take you as his wife. That day never came but that didn't matter anymore.

"You will take me as your second wife" While you spoke your eyes couldn't help but stop a couple of times on his lips.

Daemon tilted his head a little and gently brushed aside a strand of hair to whisper in your ear "I'll do it. If you want that" you shivered as you suddenly felt his breath on your neck. It doesn't take long for you to feel his warm lips against your skin. You unconsciously stretched your neck, leaving him free to continue spreading more kisses. With each kiss, you felt your body warmer. You can't help but wonder how his lips will feel just as good on another part of your body. “People will talk about us,” he warned, snapping you out of your fantasy.

You knew what Daemon was referring to, not only would it be a scandal if the king's fiancée married another but also if that other is Daemon Targaryen, the king's brother, and an already married man. People who don't understand his family's customs won't think your marriage is legitimate, and if you were to have children with him people would probably think of them as bastards. Also, the court could compare your marriage to one of Maegor Targaryen's many marriages. The kingdom would talk a lot about you two, even your family's name and respect could be damaged by this. Your father might never want to speak to you again in your life and your mother would be disappointed in you. You had thought about all this at night before receiving the prince's response. And yet you were determined to go ahead with this.

“Are you worried that the court will call you Second Maegor? Because I'm sorry to inform you but they already call you that” you said, managing to make Daemon laugh a little. You smiled when you heard him but your smile was soon replaced by a gasp as you felt his teeth biting into your neck.

“A wife shouldn't make fun of her husband,” he said making you roll your eyes, knowing that he wasn't serious and just wanted to mess with you. “If you marry me, this will not be just a marriage in name.”

You weren't an idiot. It wasn't enough for you to just marry Daemon. Viserys might still want to annul the marriage if he saw that you were a virgin but if it was known that Daemon had already had you then the council would tell the king that he should take another wife.

You walked away from him. “Are you afraid of taking me as your wife? You keep walking around instead of ordering them to start preparing everything for the ceremony. “The prince could see the challenge in your eyes and he loved it.” I'm not a little girl, Daemon. I know what I'm getting into by marrying you."

And those words were enough for Daemon to finally join his lips with yours. There was nothing soft about his kiss, not like Harwin's. This kiss was hungry, you felt like he was devouring your mouth but you weren't far behind either, taking him by the neck, pulling him closer to you. It seemed as if neither of you two could get enough of the other. Finally giving free rein to the desire the both felt for a long time. You felt his hands trying to untie the back of your dress so you walked away from him with heavy breathing.

“Ah, ah, ah,” you hummed, now placing your hands on his chest, hoping to keep a little more distance. “You can't have me until we're married,” you declared, looking at him mischievously.

“You're so fucking annoying” Daemon complained and tried to kiss you again but you pulled your face away with a teasing smile. "Good. But then you won't leave the room until I'm done with you,” he warned you and he gave you a little squeeze on your waist before leaving, determined to prepare everything in the shortest possible time.

Daemon thinks he'll never get tired of this. See how you move on his cock, how focused you look with every jump you take in search of your pleasure, how you open your mouth and let those sinful sounds escape when you finally find your sweet spot, and above all the feeling of your cunt squeezing his cock.

Hearing Daemon's groan overwhelms you. It overwhelms you because, for the first time, you realize that you have power over him. It's too much to hear him say your name like you're a god while you're riding him. See how hungry he is for you, how he can't seem to get enough of you, how he can't go a minute without his mouth on you, without biting or sucking on your neck, without having his hands touching you. By now your body was covered in hickeys, marks, and bruises leaving the trace of your crime on display. You're sure that tomorrow when the maids came to help you dress they would be horrified to see the mark of Daemon's palms on your thighs after he held you for what seemed like hours while he devoured your cunt over and over again.

Your husband noticed that you were starting to get tired but you still didn't want to stop, not when you were already so close to cumming again but you were too proud to ask him for help.

“Let me take care of it,” he said, stopping to suck on one of your nipples.

He knows how stubborn you are so he didn't even give you a chance to refuse when he lifted you off his cock. You groan against his neck as he pushes you down onto his cock again. He begins to move you up and down as if you weighed nothing.

"Faster" you demanded with heavy breathing, feeling dissatisfied with the pace of his movements.

Daemon doesn't hesitate to follow your orders and makes you bounce faster. His grunts and moans do nothing but send heat to your core. You feel your legs tremble at the speed and depth of his thrusts. You want to have your share and leave your marks on your husband too but you can't focus as much time on biting or sucking on his neck when he's fucking you so good. You sob when you finally feel the knot in your stomach release and you cum on his cock.

Suddenly one of his hands leaves your waist and pulls your hair, stealing a gasp from you, making you stop hiding your face in his neck and thus trap your mouth again in a messy kiss.

"You take me so well," Daemon gasped against your lips, feeling your warm cunt not stop squeezing his cock.

The sound of skin slapping only increases the temperature of the room. Like the groans and gasps. Neither Daemon nor you were trying to be quiet, it was more like you were both competing to see who could make the other louder. You should be embarrassed and try to be quieter, that's what a good lady would do but you couldn't care less what people thought, not when you felt so good. And while you felt how Daemon filled your cunt with his seed a petty part of you couldn't help but think that you were hoping that this would reach Viserys' ears, that one of the servants would write to the king to inform him of the spectacle you and Daemon were putting on so that Viserys wouldn't want to have anything more to do with you.

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ghostfacd · 1 year ago

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I BET ON LOSING DOGS.

pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

PART TWO

summary: you were the epitome of sunshine, and coriolanus? he was like the storm, the rain, and the everything in between.

warnings: SPOILERS from the movie & book, SMUT (protected cause we wrap it before we tap it! p in v), losing virginities to each other, snow (cause he himself needs a warning), toxic relationship, coriolanus is only in it for himself, mentions of losing virginity, you practically giving everything to snow and getting zero in return

author’s note: erm this is kinda long idek where tf i was going with this, first time writing smut on this account LOL so it might be bad. also this isn’t proofread so there might be mistakes, just ignore! as always, reblogs and comments are so greatly appreciated, enjoy reading + kisses 💓

You were the epitome of the sun itself, the sparkle, the light, and most importantly, the brightness. Despite being filthy rich, you were still that sweet sunshine Y/N everyone grown to love, the heir to the Cicero family.

Coriolanus Snow hated that about you. Not only were you everything he was not, but you lived such a lavish and easy lifestyle that it made him sick. Why was he stuck eating cabbage while you were off eating the finest thin slices of meat in the Capitol made by your chefs? It wasn’t fair, it just simply wasn’t.

“Well, Coryo!” Your sickeningly sweet voice fills his ears like a mantra.

He turns around, a smirk plays on his face. “My Y/N.”

Hearing him call you his made your heart flutter. You loop your arm through his, passing through the other academy students who were engrossed in their conversations

“Finally the star pupil.” Arachne Crane says, a glass of posca in her hand. “Lovely shirt you’ve got there. What are these cunning buttons? Tesserae?”

He looked at the shirt, shrugging. “Hm? Are they? Must’ve why they reminded me of the maid’s bathroom.”

You held his hands in yours. You knew of Coriolanus’s home life, how he wasn’t so lucky like you to have a gigantic home filled with lovable parents. His mom had died during childbirth, Coryo mentioning to you once how he was supposed to have a little sister. His father—died in the hands of rebels.

“Have you tried this lamb? It's scandalous.” Felix suddenly spoke up, taking a bite of the food that was currently on his plate.

“Didn’t daddy teach you table manners?.” Festus sneered, watching the other boy in disgust.

“Maybe he would have if he wasn’t so busy running the country.” Felix snapped back

Coriolanus took a deep breath in, already feeling overwhelmed by his classmates arguing.

After the announcement of the assigning of mentor to tributes, you could tell Coriolanus was upset. Although he wouldn’t let anyone see, he was visibly anxious and quite frankly, annoyed.

“I mean, cmon, how could it that I got the worst district?” Coriolanus says, head in his hands. “He hates me. He really does.”

“Who hates you Coryo?”

“Dean Highbottom! Isn’t it obvious?” He cries out, hands flinging into the air. You slightly flinch back, never seeing your boyfriend in such state. “He hates me Y/N. He adores you.”

“He doesn’t adore me,” you say, feeling like you were stepping around eggshells talking to Coriolanus.

“He does!” Coriolanus screams in anger, getting up in a hurry.

“Wait, no Coryo, I’m sorry.”

But your words aren’t enough, they’ll never be for Coriolanus Snow, so he walks out without a second thought.

- - -

The next day, Coriolanus apologizes. It’s a breathy, quick 5 second apology, but you being so you—accepted it without a second thought.

You loved Coriolanus, so it didn’t matter how much he hurt you.

“I’ll make it up to you tonight,” he says, placing a soft kiss on your lips.

You felt quite excited, you and your boyfriend hadn’t exactly gotten to that stage in your relationship, so thinking about sharing an intimate moment with him filled you with giddiness.

His tip had entered carefully through your folds, making you slightly wince as it bullied its way to your walls.

“Coryo..” you breathe out hazily, doe eyes coming to meet his. He sucked in his breath at the sight, never has he felt anything as good as this.

He tries so hard convincing himself he doesn’t love you. That this—it meant nothing to him. He was just here for your money, your possessions as the only daughter of Cryon and Hermione Cicero. But as he felt your nails claw its way into his back, he lets out a slip, a tiny whimper that makes your head foggy.

He spilled into the condom, pulling out with a hiss. Although you told him you were clean, and it was fine if he didn’t wear one, he simply couldn’t risk it. He wasn’t going to accidentally bring in a child into the world, having no intentions of taking care of anyone besides himself—maybe Tigris, and his Grandma’am.

“I love you,” you say quietly as you sat up, watching him discard the plastic into your trash bin.

“I’m hungry, aren’t you?” He says, putting his shirt on. It kinds of pains you at his total ignorance of the intimate words you just shared, but you nod your head.

“I could use some food,” is all you say, putting on your pajamas from earlier. “What’re hungry for Coryo? I’ll ask the chef.”

- - -

Dr. Gaul and Dean Highbottom had allowed all the mentors and their tributes roam the arena for about 15 minutes, letting them think of ways to win the game.

You were talking to Bobbin, a boy from District 7 whom you’ve had become closer with these past few days.

Suddenly, the loud scream of Felix catches your attention and before you knew it, loud bombs filled the air as tall lights fell to the ground near you.

“CORYO!” You scream, coughing loudly at the dust filling your lungs.

“Quick Y/N, we don’t have time!” Sejanus screams, grabbing ahold of your hand.

“But Coryo—”

Meanwhile, a tall pole had crushed Coriolanus’s arms.

Well, he thought, this was it.

This was how he was going to die. His girlfriend and best friend hand in hand as they ran out of the arena, the sickening feeling of betrayal filled his guts.

“What’re you doing?!” One of the tributes screamed at Lucy Gray, who was struggling to get the giant metal off Coriolanus’s arm. “Run while you can you idiot!”

But she doesn’t bother, only focusing on getting Coriolanus out. And she does, successfully, before all went black.

- - -

“Coryo? Oh Coryo!” You say, hugging him softly to ensure you weren’t hurting him.

You had felt so guilty after everything had happened. You should’ve never ran off with Sejanus, Coriolanus was your boyfriend, you should’ve saved him.

“Is Lucy Gray okay?” Is the first thing he croaks out, which makes your heart slightly crack.

“She’s—she’s okay Coryo.” You say, brushing a few blonde curls out of his eyes.

“And where were you?” He says, gaze slowly turning into anger. “I was going to die, Y/N.”

“I know! I was going to—”

He cut you off. “But you didn’t, now did you?”

His bitterness towards you makes you want to cry, tears already forming at your lash line.

“Oh now you’re crying?” It seemed like everything you did seemed of inconvenience to Coriolanus, but he opens his arms, letting you reside in them as you let out a few tears. “Always the crybaby, Y/N.” He says, hand holding your head as you buried your face into his chest.

- - -

Coriolanus Snow never believed in love. Not when he used to look at his mother and father when they were still alive, and not when he found himself a girlfriend, you.

Your relationship was merely another step stone towards success, Coriolanus viewed it. You were the heir of your family, you had countless amounts of money, and you were easily fooled by his advances. To Coriolanus, he had hit the jackpot, regardless of loving you or not.

So why did he feel so weird watching you interact with Sejanus? Sure, he considered the former district 2 boy his best friend, but it was only because Clemensia had been spending time at the hospital. The flu, Dr. Gaul described it; but Snow knew better. He was there when she had gotten bit by the snakes, and to be completely honest, if she hadn’t, he’d probably have dated her instead of you.

Clemensia Dovecote was way more smart, and he knew he wouldn’t fall inlove because they were both after the same thing. Power.

But with you, you were head over heels for Coriolanus. It almost made him sick, if it weren’t for your family name.

He clenched his jaw as he saw you throw your head back, hitting Sejanus’s shoulder as you hysterically laughed at something he had said.

What was so funny? Nothing was funny in the Capitol, not now. Maybe he was bitter, he should’ve never cheated in the games. It was stupid, and now he was getting the punishment of getting sent to 12 as a peacekeeper for 20 years.

Fuck, he really shouldn’t have cheated. And now he couldn’t even use his girlfriend’s family name as a way out.

He really should’ve known better. He knew you loved him, but he didn’t think you’d love him so much so that you begged your father to let you stay in 12 for a while to be with Coriolanus.

If there’s one thing about you—it’s that you’re a Daddy’s girl by heart, and of course, your father had once again served your request with a silver spoon. He hated that about you. He hated it. You got things too damn easily.

“Hi Coryo!” You say, making your way to him. Your beautiful sundress made him gulp, and he wanted nothing more but to snatch you away, pulling it off so he could get inside of you. But he couldn’t—he was in 12, much to his dismay.

“Y/N,” he says, placing his peacekeeper gun to the back. “Talking to the scums?”

“They’re just people from the district,” you say, frowning at his rudeness. “They’re nice, Coryo. Real nice, you’d like some of them.”

Coriolanus scoffs at that. How oblivious and stupid you were. Him, Coriolanus Snow, liking some of the district 12 citizens? What a fucking joke.

“Go along now Y/N, I’ll see you later.”

You nod, giving him a sloppy kiss on the cheek before you left, leaving the other peacekeepers to whistle at Coriolanus who only responds with an eye roll.

When later eventually comes, he was packing away the Jabberjays in their metal cages, Sejanus being right next to him.

“I saw you earlier,” Coriolanus says nonchalantly, “talking to that woman in the window. What are you playing at Sejanus?”

Sejanus scoffs, shaking his head. “They’re gonna escape Corio. Leave the districts. And I’ll be helping them.”

Coriolanus sucks in a breath, “is Y/N all in this too?”

God, he hoped Sejanus said no. But then again, it’d give him an advantage if he had said yes.

“She is,” Sejanus says, continuing to tell Coriolanus of the plan.

Without Sejanus knowing, Coriolanus had tuned the jabberjay so it could record back the whole conversation. When Sejanus finally leaves, Coriolanus sneaks to where the train bringing the birds back to the Capitol stood, placing the jabberjay in it to send it to Dr. Gaul.

If anything, Sejanus was a blocking point in Coriolanus’s way, and getting rid of him and you were like killing two birds with one stone.

- - -

The next day came and you were peacefully talking to one of the younger girls in the district when you’re suddenly pulled away along with Sejanus.

“Hey! What the hell!” You scream, thrashing in the unfamiliar peacekeeper’s hold. “Get off me!”

You and Sejanus struggle, and Coriolanus almost wants to step in and get you out of his fellow peacekeeper’s arms. Almost.

“Coryo! Tell them they’ve been mistaken!” You cry out, locking eyes with your so called lover.

“You two have been charged with treason towards the Capitol.” The peacekeeper says, his cold gaze and strong hold on you makes you let out a whimper.

“Treason?” You say, “there has to be a mistake! Call my father! Call my father!”

“I’m afraid your father can’t get you out of this one, Miss. Cicero.”

He drags you and Sejanus up the main stage of the district. “Everyone! Pay attention! This is what will happen if you are disloyal to the Capitol!”

Another peacekeeper points a gun behind Sejanus’s back as the peacekeeper who was holding you earlier pokes your back with the cold metal. You felt terrified gazes of the citizens of District 12, including Lucy Gray, stare at you.

“CORYO! TELL THEM!” You scream, begging with your eyes. “Coryo, please. Please.”

But Coriolanus Snow stands still in his spot, not budging a thing.

You thought he had loved you—or at least, cared for you. You gave him shelter when he was at his worst, you gave him your virginity, you held him when he cried about how unfair Dean Highbottom was, you let him into your home, and you always were there for him. You practically did everything for Coriolanus Snow. And what did you get? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

“Your Coryo won’t save you.” The peacekeeper snarls, before firing the gun.

Two gunshots go off, and the body of yours and Sejanus fall to the ground in an instant.

Coriolanus Snow almost wants to barf, his eyes closed for a minute before reopening them again.

Had it really been worth it? Ratting you and Sejanus out so he could get home to the Capitol faster?

He thinks so when your family and the Plinths give him their fortune as a thank you for being such a good boyfriend and friend towards their son and daughter.

If only they knew, though. But Coriolanus would never let that happen, because no matter what, Snow lands on top.

And this? It was just the beginning.

#coriolanus is so mitski coded if he wasn’t a launtic #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #hunger games x reader #the hunger games x reader #ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow imagine

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multimilfs · 7 months ago

Text

Lilia Calderu x Fem!Reader: In Omnibus Aequitas

Summary: Agatha isn't the only witch with a force of nature trailing after her.

AO3

A/N: oh my god i can't explain how excited i am to post this! so much thought and careful crafting went into this!! actually begging someone to ask for the TED talk on my planning process for this because hooooo boy

this is my first time writing Lilia, so apologies if the characterization is shaky at all!

also to give credit where credit is due, the idea for this Reader was prompted by a post from the brilliant trickofthelights, whom i admire greatly. i'll attach the post here

Tag List: @emiliaisdead @kenzie-floops @nightmare-of-homophobes @thepotatoislost @mckiejames @women-are-so-ethereal @galaxydreamer468 @angeliccss @goldenautomaton @asolitaryrose3 @multifandomfix @ghostsunderstoodmysoul @escapetodreamworld

Warning(s): None

Shadows often linger in the periphery of Lilia’s vision; this she has grown to accept, on the basis that they are gone when she turns to face them. And she is glad of it each time. The twisted shapes and figures of the primordial horrors that linger are not made to be witnessed, even by her eyes.

So when a figure lingers, she turns with the expectation of seeing the silhouette vanish, but she’s not the only one who turns.

It strikes her as odd that Rio should see whatever she does. This thought occurs to her mid-ballad, fire licking at the back of her neck. When she looks, though, the figure does not vanish, but neither is it a horror to behold.

You are as beautiful as she remembers. The memory, coupled with your eyes on her, nearly trips her up. But Lilia holds strong through the rest of Lorna’s ballad—even as the burns on her shoulders ache, even as your eyes dart away and meet the curious gaze belonging to Rio, even, even as you watch her with that unerring devotion she had once craved.

When Alice tilts her head back, singing with the full force of her soul, Lilia’s eyes leave you. She watches the curse burn to ash above Alice.

You’re gone when Lilia glances back.

---

Sharon, human she may have been, was right about one thing—no witch can be expected to traverse the road without rest. So, the coven opts to take turns keeping watch around the little fire they’ve built.

Lilia volunteers for the first watch, restless, feeling the weight of eyes on her still. She should’ve known you wouldn’t stay away long.

Your entrance comes when the rest of the coven has fallen asleep; Jen and Alice on one side of the fire, propped up against the rock they sat upon, Agatha furthest from the fire, back to it, while Rio—if that is her true name—sleeps near enough to lay a hand on her waist. Teen, she assumes, remains in the makeshift bed they made for him.

She sees your shadow at the edge of the clearing, hesitant. Looking over her coven one last time, she stands, and walks to where you wait outside the light.

“What do you want?”

You reach out, a hand on either side of Lilia’s face. She doesn’t shake you off. Yet.

“You’re as beautiful as the day I left.” You murmur.

Lilia’s lip curls, “Are your brutal truths meant to be endearing?”

“No. They’re meant to be nothing more than what they are.”

Against all odds, Lilia has yet to throw off your hold. You run your thumb gently over the curve of her jaw. Everything in you wants to kiss her—has dreamt of it for over a century—but you know it won’t be welcome.

Her curls are frayed and wild around her face in an endearing picture. Mess suits her just as well as refinement; though that could be your bias talking.

“Why are you here?” Lilia asks.

“Because you’re here.” And because your job brought you here, but that’s less romantic.

She seems to sense the omission. Any warmth drains from her expression, her hands removing yours from her person. You miss the closeness immediately.

“A truth and a lie. Which will come next?”

“It wasn’t a lie. I could’ve been anywhere.”

“Then go there. But leave the coven out of this.”

“I have no choice, Lilia.”

Lilia scoffs, “You had a choice when you vanished for a century!”

You close your eyes against the reminder. Hurt flares through you. The ache from years of longing, feeling that veil between you exist so thin, yet being unable to reach through. You hadn’t even been allowed a glimpse.

It was torment. A century should have been easy, but a life without Lilia felt like clawing your way through. If you tell her, will she believe you?

“Please.” You whisper. You’re not sure what you’re asking for.

“Goodnight.”

You hear her walk away, can’t stop yourself from blurting, despite the consequences, “Please, don’t put yourself in harm's way.”

Her jaw is tight, eyes wary. She looks you over as if something about you will give away what you know.

She crosses her arms over her chest. You recognize it as both a way to keep you out and support herself. You ache to be let back in.

“This whole Road is a death wish.”

“Don’t put yourself in more danger than normal.” You say, then, smaller, “I can’t protect you.”

“Are you asking for my sake or your own?”

“Whichever you’ll listen to.”

“Why ask at all?”

You step forward, hands outstretched to take hers, but you stop short, “Because I love you, Lilia.”

The admission makes her flinch. Her eyes water and she swallows hard. For a fleeting moment you see the startling vulnerability behind her eyes—the loneliness you should have quelled—before she locks it away.

“You can’t love.” Lilia sneers, “It would tip the scales too much.”

“That’s not true.” You defend.

“Oh? Then who, in this wretched universe, have you decided to hate?”

You bite your tongue. Lilia takes your silence for its own—incorrect—answer. Bitterness creeps into her smile.

“Goodnight.”

---

“Here to watch the big show?” Rio asks, lagging behind while the others move forward.

“Just doing my job.”

“Really? I’d say things were pretty square when you showed up.”

You eye her, despising her knowing smile, “Why are you here?”

“My job.”

“Hm. And how many bodies have you collected, again?”

Her smile is wide, but her eyes are cold. She’s always despised that the two of you are equals; that she can’t add you to her menagerie of bodies. Just the same, you’ve despised that you can’t write her name down.

Agatha looks back and tilts her head. You know she can’t see you. Like nothing has happened, Rio turns that grin on Agatha, skipping back to her side.

You catch Lilia’s eyes on you and ignore the question in them.

---

Lilia watches. She follows you in her periphery, makes note of where you are at all times. Her eyes always dart to your hands. Every time she finds them empty, she relaxes.

She’s taken watch, again. You read the weariness in her posture.

Against your better judgment, you lay your hands on her shoulders. She doesn’t shrug them off.

“You need rest as much as they do, beloved.” You murmur.

She stiffens at the old endearment, “We’re splitting the time. I’ll manage.”

You run a hand through her hair. The curls are still loose, wild. You untangle a few of them. Squeezing her shoulder, you place a kiss to the top of her head, savoring the closeness.

For a moment, your hand quivers. You still it. Your punishment was endured with grace, you must endure the distance with the same.

“Sleep. I’ll watch over you.”

Lilia scoffs, “Right.”

The weight of her mistrust is like a knife in your chest. You do not endure the pain with grace; you flinch, tears springing unbidden to your eyes. Lilia’s eyes close in regret.

You wonder if your presence is more of a burden than blessing. Had you mistaken her intent all those years ago? Love is not an emotion that’d come to you naturally. Perhaps, in your learning, you misunderstood, and Lilia’s kind heart wouldn’t allow her to break your illusion.

She had loved you once, hadn’t she? You could swear she had.

“You have to know I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Unless the greater universe calls for it.”

Her tone is honest, but sadness lingers within it. All you want is to see her face.

“If I thought it would do you any favors, I’d throw it all away.” You admit in a whisper.

Lilia turns, then. Her brows are furrowed as her eyes search your own, frantic, swimming with fear. In another time and place, you’d follow the statement with a smirk; but you cannot bring yourself to summon the facade now, not with her.

It isn’t a lie—your admission. If not for the overturning of the world without you, you’d forsake the job on your shoulders. You’d unmake yourself in a moment for her. For the younger witch who sang freely and lamented her gifts. For the wizened witch who eyes you with trepidation, mind rife with your betrayals and shortcomings.

“Where are your lies?” She asks.

“I tell them to myself, so you can have all my truths.”

Lilia smiles then, but it’s bittersweet. A warm hand settles on your cheek. You can’t help it—grace be damned—when you press yourself into the contact. They’re still there—the callouses you remember, rough against your flesh. She still smells of smoke.

There’s a rustling of fabric across the space. Alice shifts, sitting up and rubbing at her eyes. Lilia’s touch is gone from you. You settle next to her as she rests, not brave enough to lay another hand upon her.

---

You watch the knife fall as if time has slowed; absently, you think it might be, Time always did love her cruel jokes. It falls with Teen in the direct path. You feel the pen heavy in your hand, the paper near-weightless and yet the heaviest thing you’ve come to bear.

But then Lilia moves. The one moment you need time to slow for you, it’s returned to normal. Lilia shoves Teen out of the way and takes his place in the dagger’s path.

You fall to your knees, “No!”

Throwing your arms out, you aim a burst of magic for the dagger. Consequences be damned. Alice is faster, though, and moves Lilia from the dagger’s path before your magic can make contact.

Rio’s eyes are heavy on you. She can’t do anything—you didn’t technically break any rules, but the intent is damning enough.

“Now this is going to be fun.” Rio purrs.

You stare at the pen and blank paper you dropped in your haste to save Lilia. Your purpose. How close you’d come to unmaking yourself and yet… yet, a part of you is ambivalent to this. The larger part is freaking out, though.

Everyone’s eyes are on you. You flinch. They shouldn’t be able to see you.

Checking your mental list of active charms, you realize you’ve made an error; in your grief-induced act of heroism, you dropped every single charm on your person and directed the energy toward Lilia. The cat’s out of the bag, it would seem.

Lilia is the first to recover, moving out of Alice’s protective hold, “Do you ever think?”

You bristle, yet to stand from your kneeling position. It gives her an advantage over you this once.

“Well and often.” You defend.

“Well?” She questions, beautiful in her terror and rage, “You call that thinking well? You could’ve been killed!”

“You were in danger, Lilia.”

“And you’re not allowed to interfere.”

Ignoring all the eyes on the two of you, Lilia turns and storms through the exit that opened. You watch the road-conjured costume melt back into her normal visage as she gets further away.

It’s then that you recognize the silence.

All of them are staring at you save for Agatha, who eyes Rio with a mixture of trepidation and understanding. You stand as gracefully as you can manage. Smoothing down your clothes, you try to smile, but the action feels slippery on your features. How long has it been?

“What is it with you witches and beautiful mysteries?” Jen asks, “And where can I get one?”

You flush and fidget. The weight of their attention is so much less pleasant than your beloved’s.

Alice tilts her head, “Who are you?”

Holding out your hand, you speak your name. Rio laughs. You blush, remembering that mortal creatures don’t comprehend the original language, not like the two of you. Lilia once said it sounded like botched latin. The coven exchanges various looks of confusion.

“Lilia just calls me—”

“A pain.” Lilia’s voice cuts in, “A very severe, persistent pain. Are you all coming?”

You’re the first to follow, which prompts no shortage of grumbling. You find yourself grinning.

---

“Well, at least we have extra help on The Road.” Jen shrugs, later.

“She can’t help.” Lilia and Rio say in unison.

The two share a look. You can read the distaste in Lilia’s eyes. She doesn’t seem to think much of Rio, not that you do either—and you actually know her.

“Seemed pretty eager to help you, Lilia.”

“A foolish, misguided mistake on her part.”

You flinch at the statement, staring down at your hands. With the charms gone, you witness their true appearance; one completely dark, as if left to char in ember, the other so pale-white it is near translucent.

The beauty of a mortal body with a mortal heart is a range of emotion you’d have never felt before. Though lately, the gift feels more like a burden. Pain is your ever-present companion these days. Even when you look at your beloved, the love that overtakes you is laced with poison; with the reminder of what you had to do.

You can’t bring yourself to wish away the heart in your chest. But you do wish Lilia would be a bit more gentle with it. You’re hardly in the position to make requests, though.

“I can assist in small ways. Taking a watch at night, tending the fire.”

“No.” Lilia shuts you down. You freeze, “You are to do nothing but observe. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, beloved.”

You ignore the look between Alice and Jen.

---

The end of The Road is so near you can practically taste it. It tastes of rot and chaos, but you put that down as a symptom of your disposition. You watch Lilia and the rest of the coven relax, inhaling deeply.

A smile teases at Lilia’s lips.

“What do you smell?” You whisper.

The smile doesn’t vanish as you expect. Rather, it extends to her eyes as she regards you.

“Your perfume.”

You melt. Knees like jelly, you take her hand in your own, and press a kiss to the back of it, ignoring the eyes on the two of you. The Witches Road will give you what you most desire at the end. And before the last trial, it gives the traveler a taste of what their prize is. She can’t reach the end without knowing the truth.

“This body wasn’t mine, did you know that?” You ask. Her expression shifts as she grows a bit more tense in your hold. You hold tighter, “The witch before me had a little over a century left in her when I came. As payment, I had to serve out the rest of her years without the one thing that made it feel like living.”

The words are tumbling from you faster than you can comprehend them. You watch her face, hoping that what you’re stringing together makes enough sense for her to see. Even if it takes some other force whispering the facts into her ear for her to understand, you’ll just be happy that she knows.

Lilia’s the brightest witch you’ve ever known. She’ll figure out what you’re saying, but you just can’t stop; you need to say the words you’ve been dying to say for all these years.

“I never wanted to leave you, beloved.”

There’s no privacy on this cursed road, but you don’t care. If she asked it of you, you’d tell every soul you met how you love her. Lilia Calderu owns your heart, but even more than that, she owns your soul, and you have no desire to take it from her hands—even if she decides to rip it to pieces as repayment.

Let the coven know how you lived a century-long prison sentence to be with her. Let Rio and the greater powers know. You have no shame.

Lilia sneers, “You foolish woman.”

Her hands fist in the front of your shirt and pull your lips to hers. It’s messy; a clash of teeth and lips and noses, a poor imitation of the world-tipping kisses the two of you have found in one another. You’re both horribly out of practice. Never let it be said, however, that passion does not make up for tact. The near-quivering of Lilia’s grip and the force of intent behind her kiss makes up for any clumsiness.

The time on The Road has left her lips chapped, bitter with the remnants of lipstick, and never before have you known something so utterly perfect. You wrap your arms around her waist and pull her close enough that not a breath can exist between you. She sighs against your lips.

A curse of a mortal body is the functions that a higher being like yourself wouldn’t deem necessary; in this case, the need your lungs have for oxygen. Your heart is beating out of your chest and not from desire.

You pull back, panting, forehead resting against Lilia’s.

Breath successfully acquired, you tilt your head and press your lips to Lilia’s cheek, her temple, her forehead—anywhere you can reach, murmuring, reverent, “Lilia. My Lilia.”

“Darling.” She whispers with every kiss, voice hushed with devotion.

A lifetime apart seen to its end. Your fingers still itch with the pent up desire to hold her despite doing so. You were shameless before, but now… Gods help her.

Rio watches the entire display with shameless interest. Her eyebrows are high, a small, curious smile on her lips. Teen had been the first to turn away and busy himself with watching The Road. Somewhere mid-kiss, the remaining three found something more pressing to devote their attention to.

The lack of seeing, however, does not stop Jen from sighing, “When will it be my turn?”

Alice laughs at her side.

---

“Did you know all along?”

Lilia looks up at Agatha’s hushed question. She takes in the messy, haggard, but satisfied look of her fellow witch. She also catches the look Agatha throws your way. You sit across the clearing, Teen at your side, listening with rapt attention as you explain something about the moon.

“I had a suspicion when you mentioned my fortune.” Lilia admits.

A suspicion. A burgeoning hope she hadn’t let herself acknowledge.

“Oh?”

“What is fortune if not a lack of balance?” She shrugs, unable to look away from you, “To change it meant the end of my pain.”

“Enter, your solution.”

“Solution and problem.”

The two share a wry laugh. Lilia’s careful not to ask any pointed questions about Rio, though curiosity does eat away at her. Is anyone better suited to appreciate her experience?

Rio, while polarizing, is beautiful—and seems to have attached herself to Agatha in a way best suited to the witch. There is a beauty in it. Though she admits she’ll always prefer your well-meaning brutality over that which Agatha receives. To each their own.

“The Road seems to play favorites, giving you your prize early.” Agatha muses.

“Having her isn’t the prize,” Lilia corrects, “keeping her is.”

Agatha hums, eyes contemplative.

You’re aware of the eyes on you from across the clearing, but pay it little attention, instead devoting yourself fully to the question Teen has asked you. Gesturing with your hands, you weave similarities between the First Coven and their own. He watches you with a starstruck expression.

Something in your conversation prompts him to tilt his head. He fiddles with the little spellbook attached to his hip. Your musings come to a natural close and he speaks up.

“Can I ask—why Lilia? I mean, she’s great, but I guess I don’t understand.” Teen changes the subject.

You smile.

“Do you know the average person’s response to upsetting the state of the world?” You ask. Teen thinks, then shakes his head, “There isn’t one. It doesn’t matter what they’ve undone in the grand scheme, they’re painfully ignorant of what they’ve done. And what’s worse, most don’t care.”

It’s an old grievance you have with the greater universe. You recognize the necessity of it, but will never deny how it grates on you.

“Lilia… Lilia spent a large part of her life as a harbinger of tragedy. She’d travel through villages and upturn their worlds with a prediction.” You sigh, chest aching with the pain you know she suffered, “But when she did, she always sought to fix it. There were times she leveled the scales so completely that I didn’t have to do a thing. Few had ever considered me in such a way before.”

You look up from your fidgeting hands to Lilia. Her eyes are already on you. The warm, steady weight of her gaze makes you melt.

“And the others, well, none of them were her.”

Teen nods, “That’s sweet. I think.”

You chuckle. In a moment of fondness, you ruffle the curls on his head. He rolls his eyes but allows the contact; how do you tell a force of nature no?

---

You stare back down The Road with the coven. Though the return journey will be without any of the usual hassles, you curse the greater powers for not just providing an exit door. Your feet are killing you.

Lilia looks weary despite having rested. You rub a hand over her back, working out the knots you find with a skilled hand. She sighs.

“Where do we go from here?” She asks.

You raise a brow, “Back to the start of The Road.”

Lilia glares, though it lacks significant heat, “Us, darling.”

Ah.

“Wherever you lead, beloved.”

“That’s a lot of control.”

“Give me a century or so and I’ll start making decisions again.”

Her fingers lace through your own. Lilia stares down the length of The Road she has traversed and conquered, yet the greatest battle lies beyond. The world will never again be the same for her.

You raise her hand to your lips. You press gentle kisses to the knuckles.

“To the return of your glory.” You murmur.

Lilia looks at you for a long moment. Using your hold, she pulls you down, into a short but mind-numbing kiss. You hold tight and sigh, content.

She corrects, “To the return of balance.”

#lilia calderu #lilia calderu x reader #agatha all along #agatha all along x reader #lilia calderu fanfiction #lilia calderu imagine #marvel x reader #wlw #wlw imagine #oct2024 #multimilfswritings

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puffins-muffins · 8 months ago

Text

Control - The Beginning

Pairing: Jax Teller x Female!Reader Word Count: 7,300 Summary: You return to your hometown as a successful defense attorney to represent SAMCRO President Jax Teller, the former love of your life, in a murder trial. Years after your painful breakup, unresolved feelings resurface, and the lines between your professional duty and personal desires blur. Warnings: 18+ only please, cursing, cheating, mentions of parental death. A/N: So, this is my first Jax/SOA AU-ish fic. This establishes Jax & Reader's beginnings as teens/young adults. Feedback is so greatly appreciated! Beta'd by just myself, all mistakes are my own. I am also new to posting like this so apologies now if I've missed anything. We'll learn as we go. Please be kind.

Jax Teller leaned against his bike in the Charming High School parking lot, his leather kutte draped over his broad shoulders. With a lean, muscular build, he exuded an aura of danger on two wheels. His sandy blonde hair was a tousled mess, falling just below his ears and framing his face in a way that highlighted his rebellious charm. One flash of his boyish, crooked grin sent girls swooning, but when you walked past, you didn’t even glance his way.

Curiosity piqued, Jax straightened up. “Hey,” he called, his voice smooth yet laced with cocky confidence. “You too good to say hi?”

You turned your head slightly, raising an eyebrow at him. “What?”

“I’m Jax Teller.” He starts. “You’re Jimmy’s daughter, aren’t you?” his eyes narrowing slightly as recognition dawned. “I saw you at the clubhouse a few weeks ago when your old man patched into our charter.”

You shrugged, barely reacting. “Yeah, that’s me. So what?”

Jax smirked, intrigued by how unimpressed you seemed. “Just surprised I haven’t seen you around more,” he said, stepping a little closer. “You’re not into the whole MC thing?”

You quickly glanced him up and down, a playful glint in your eye. “Not really my scene.”

Jax tilted his head, genuinely interested. “That why you won’t give me the time of day, huh?”

You shrugged again, a smirk creeping onto your lips. “Maybe you’re just not as charming as you think you are.”

His grin widened. Most girls would’ve melted under his attention, but you? You gave as good as you got. He liked that. “You might be right, but that’s not going to stop me from trying, darlin’,” he replied, adding a flirtatious wink. “Can I take you somewhere?” he asked, gesturing toward his bike.

You scoffed, glancing down at his bike and then back at him, your tone teasing. “With you? On that? No thanks. I only ride with my dad.”

“Alright, Pep, another time then,” he said, his tone light and flirtatious, making you bite back a smile.

“Pep?” you asked, confusion furrowing your brow.

“Pepper,” he explained, grinning widely. “You’re kind of spicy, and I like that. I think that nickname suits you.”

After rejecting his ride, he hopped on his bike, strapping on his helmet, ready to leave. “We’ll see how long it takes before you’re begging me to give you a ride.” he said, his voice dripping with innuendo.

You flashed him a smirk, determination in your eyes. Cool, calm exterior. “Oh, don’t hold your breath, Teller.”

But inside, a rush of conflicting emotions surged through you. His words caused your stomach to flip. The easy banter was just a front; beneath it lay the undeniable pull between you, and you felt it tugging at your heart. As you watched him take off, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d be craving that ride sooner than you’d like to admit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After that first encounter, it was like a slow, steady burn between you and Jax. At first, you made it a point to keep your distance, though it was impossible to ignore the magnetism between you. He’d always find an excuse to talk to you in the halls, leaning against lockers like he owned the damn place. You’d roll your eyes, give him sass, but there was always that spark — the kind that lit up the air around you both.

Then came the day he convinced you to ride with him. He pulled up to your house one Saturday afternoon, engine rumbling beneath him, and shot you that devil-may-care grin. “C’mon, Pep. You’ve been avoiding this long enough.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, one hand on your hip. “I told you, I don’t do rides, Teller.”

But there was a challenge in your voice, and Jax heard it loud and clear. He just revved the engine, making it purr, his gaze never leaving yours. God, he was cute. “One ride with me. You don’t like it; I’ll never ask again. Please.”

You didn’t respond right away, but the way your heart thumped in your chest betrayed you. Something about Jax made you want to push your own limits, and this was no different. Relenting, you grabbed the helmet he offered and swung your leg over the bike behind him, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. His body was warm and solid beneath your hands, and you could feel his heartbeat through his leather.

The bike roared to life, and before you knew it, you were speeding down the back roads outside town. Wind whipped through your hair, the world a blur of color as the adrenaline pumped through your veins. Every time Jax took a sharp turn, your grip on him tightened, but soon you weren’t holding on out of fear, you were holding on because you didn’t want to let go. The rumble of the engine, the feel of the wind, the pure freedom - it was intoxicating. And the way Jax handled the bike, confident and effortless, only added to the rush.

He’d glance back at you every now and then, smirking when he saw you weren’t just holding on anymore; you were leaning into it, craving more of that wild thrill. And with every ride, it became more than just adrenaline. It was the way he made you feel when you were with him, completely invincible, like nothing in the world could touch you.

The weeks turned into months, and a montage of memories built up between you two. Sneaking out at night, the hum of his bike your only soundtrack as you wrapped yourself around him, laughing into the wind. Bonfires by the old quarry, where he’d pull you close with that cocky grin, his touch always gentle with you. Late-night rides to nowhere, where you’d hold him a little tighter, whispering sarcastic comebacks into his ear even as your heart betrayed you, racing faster with every mile.

Then there were those unexpected moments, the quiet ones that caught you off guard. Like when you found yourselves perched on the roof of Teller-Morrow, cocooned in your own little world. In those instances, a different side of Jax emerged—one that was introspective and thoughtful. He would often pull out a notebook, jotting down his thoughts and feelings, exposing a vulnerability that stood in stark contrast to his tough exterior. As he lit a cigarette, you would lean into him, savoring the warmth radiating from his body. You’d tease him playfully, the banter punctuated by that same smile tugging at the corners of your lips. And when you thought he wasn’t paying attention, your gaze would linger on him just a little too long.

It wasn’t long before you realized something had shifted. The thrill of the ride was more than just the speed and adrenaline. It was the way Jax’s hand would find yours when you weren’t paying attention, the way he’d look at you like you were the only thing that mattered. It was the sound of his laughter, the way his eyes softened when he saw you, the fire and sass he loved to tease but never tried to tame.

One night, after a long ride along the coast, the two of you sat by the edge of the cliff, the ocean crashing beneath you. Jax was beside you, leaning back on his hands, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “You know,” he said after a long stretch of silence, his voice low, “I didn’t think you’d ever actually give in.”

You turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. “Give in to what?”

He grinned, that playful glint in his eyes. “To this. To riding with me. To… us.”

For a moment, you just looked at him, the sunset painting his features in warm, golden light. You couldn’t deny it anymore. The exhilaration wasn’t just from the rides, it was from him.

“I guess you’re not the worst company,” you admitted, rolling your eyes even as you leaned into him, your head resting against his shoulder.

He chuckled softly, his arm slipping around your waist, pulling you closer. “Yeah, well, you’re my Pep. No one else like you.”

And that’s when you knew you had fallen, not just for the rides, but for the boy who had made you feel alive in ways you hadn’t expected. The boy who saw through your sarcasm, who called you Pepper because he liked your fire, and who made your heart race faster than any ride ever could.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Senior year was a whirlwind. While you were focused on your classes and keeping up with your honor roll status, Jax was slipping further away from school. He barely showed up anymore, spending most of his time at the garage or with the club. There were days when you’d catch glimpses of him, riding in with Opie, that familiar roar of their bikes, the MC patch on his back more of a constant presence than his textbooks.

You had always known Jax was different, more interested in bikes and the MC life than anything school had to offer. But now, it felt like he was already halfway out the door while you were still trying to figure out where the future would take you.

The contrast between the two of you was glaring. You were getting acceptance letters from universities across the country, each one congratulating you on your achievements. It felt surreal, but there was this gnawing ache every time you thought about leaving Charming — leaving him. You had spent the last couple of years with Jax as your constant. The idea of being somewhere without him felt like cutting away a part of yourself.

One afternoon, you met Jax at the garage after school, where he was elbow-deep in the engine of a Harley. He looked up when he heard you approach, wiping his hands on a rag, that familiar grin stretching across his face. “Hey, Pep,” he called, dropping the rag and walking toward you, pulling you in for a quick kiss. “How was your day? Ace another test?”

You rolled your eyes with a smile, nudging him playfully. “Actually, yeah. I got into Berkeley.”

Jax’s face lit up with pride. “Damn, look at you. That’s huge, babe.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, squeezing you affectionately.

You leaned into him, inhaling the familiar mix of leather, grease, and smoke. “Yeah… but it’s kinda far, Jax. And I don’t know if I want to go that far. I was thinking maybe San Fran or even Fresno. Somewhere closer.”

Jax looked at you, brow furrowing a bit as he leaned against the workbench. “You’re gonna throw away Berkeley for Charming? Why?”

You shifted, feeling the weight of your answer before you even said it. “Because of you,” you admitted, voice soft but steady. “I don’t want to be miles away from you, from everything I know, my dad. I want to study law, stay close, and—”

He cut you off with a kiss, pulling you closer, his hand resting at the back of your neck. When he pulled away, his eyes were soft but conflicted. “You’re too good for this place. You’ve got this big, bright future ahead of you, and I don’t want to be a reason you hold yourself back.”

You searched his face, trying to understand where this was coming from. “You’re not holding me back, Jax. I want to be near you. Law school, everything — I can do that here.”

He let out a long breath, running a hand through his long hair. “I don’t have a plan. Shit, I’m barely gonna graduate. I’ll probably work at the garage, help with the club… I don’t know where I’ll end up, but it’s not gonna be college, that’s for sure.”

You grabbed his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “I don’t care about that. I care about you. You don’t have to have some perfect plan. We’ve got time to figure things out.”

Jax smiled softly, but there was something behind it, a flicker of doubt, maybe even fear. He pulled you close, resting his forehead against yours. “You deserve more than just ‘figuring it out.’ You deserve everything. And I don’t know if I can give you that.”

You held his face in your hands, making him look at you. “You’ve always been enough for me, Jax. Always. I’m not going anywhere unless you tell me to.”

Jax only kissed you, this time slower, deeper, like he was holding on to something he was afraid to lose. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his voice barely a whisper. “I could never tell you to go. I just… I don’t want to hold you back.”

You kissed him back softly, the noise of the garage fading into the background. “You won’t,” you promised.

But even as you said it, there was a part of you that knew things would never be that simple, not with the club, not with the way Jax was already tied to a world that didn’t leave room for easy choices. Still, in that moment, with his arms wrapped around you and the world at your feet, you believed that somehow, you could make it work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two years into undergrad and everything felt different. The late-night rides and stolen moments that used to bring you and Jax together now seemed like distant memories. You were buried in textbooks and case studies, drowning in deadlines and long hours at your internship. The law classes were brutal and balancing your workload with everything else left you running on fumes. You’d chosen a college about an hour outside of Charming, far enough to give you space but close enough to keep Jax in your life.

But even with that proximity, things were… different. The once easy connection between you and Jax felt strained, pulled thin under the weight of time, distance, and the lives you were both living now.

You were sitting at a small table in a coffee shop near your campus, your laptop open and legal notes scattered everywhere. Your phone buzzed, a text from Jax lighting up the screen. Hey, been trying to call. Busy?

You stared at the message for a moment, guilt swirling in your chest. You had seen the missed calls earlier, but your study group had gone long, and then there was work. You typed out a quick reply: Yeah, sorry. Studying. You okay?

His response came fast. Yeah, just haven’t seen you in a while. Miss you.

That simple sentence hit harder than you expected. You missed him too, desperately. Lately, it felt like missing him was all you did. You weren’t the same girl who had spent nights riding on the back of his bike, laughing into the wind. Now, you were someone constantly pulled in a dozen directions, and Jax was being swallowed up by the club. He was taking on more responsibilities with the Sons, more rides, more late nights. And you knew what came with that lifestyle - the danger, the temptations. You’d heard about other women. Nothing concrete, but the rumors alone were enough to keep you awake at night.

You texted back, I miss you too. Maybe I can come by tomorrow?

Yeah. I’ll be at the clubhouse. Be good to see you.

The next day, you drove back to Charming, your stomach knotted with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. You parked outside the clubhouse, a place that used to feel like a second home, but now felt distant — like you didn’t quite belong in Jax’s world anymore. You walked inside and immediately saw him at the bar, his back turned as he talked with Opie.

“Hey,” you called, and he turned, that familiar smile lighting up his face as he saw you.

“Hey yourself!” he said, walking over to wrap his arms around you, a tender kiss placed on your lips. The feel of him, solid and warm, instantly melted some of the tension inside you. For a moment, it felt like everything could be okay, like you were still those two kids who fell in love years ago. But as soon as he pulled away, reality slipped back in.

He led you back to his clubhouse room. Both of you sitting on the bed, his hand resting on your leg as if to anchor you both. You made small talk, catching up on each other’s lives, but the conversation felt stilted. There were gaps now, things unsaid between you, like the life he was leading in the club, the hours he spent with them, and the stories you heard but never wanted to ask about.

“School’s killing me,” you admitted. “I barely have time to breathe, let alone come back here. It’s just... a lot.”

Jax nodded, but you could see the distance in his eyes, the frustration he was trying to mask. “Yeah, you’ve been busy. I get it.”

You sighed, looking into his eyes. “Do you? Because it feels like… I don’t know, like we’re both living these separate lives. When’s the last time we spent more than an hour together?” There was always this heightened tension between you two now.

Jax’s jaw clenched, and he leaned back, rubbing a hand over his face. “I know, I know. But it’s not just you. I’ve got a lot going on too, with the garage, the club and everything…” he trails off.

“And what does ‘everything’ include?” you asked, your voice quieter, a trace of the hurt you’d been holding back slipping through.

He looked at you for a long moment, eyes shadowed with a mix of guilt and defensiveness. “What are you asking?”

You hesitated. This was the conversation you’d both been avoiding, but you couldn’t pretend anymore. “I’m asking if there’s someone else, Jax. I’m asking if the club has taken more than just your time.”

His expression hardened, but there was a flicker of something else beneath it - regret, maybe. “There’s no one else, Pep. Don’t be ridiculous.” He snapped. “But this life… it’s not easy. And you’re not here as much. I’m not saying that’s your fault, but it’s how it is.”

You nodded, blinking back the sting in your eyes. “Yeah, I get it. You’re right. We’re both busy, and it’s hard. But we’re growing apart, Jax. And I don’t know how to fix that.”

He reached for your hand, squeezing it gently. “I don’t want to lose you. But I don’t know how to fix it either.”

There it was — the raw truth neither of you had said out loud until now. You still loved each other, deeply, but it was like trying to hold on to something that kept slipping through your fingers. The connection that had once felt so unbreakable was fraying at the edges, and neither of you knew if you could tie it back together.

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder, his arm wrapping around you like it always had. For now, in this moment, you could pretend that everything was okay. But deep down, you both knew that things had changed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another year had passed, and your relationship with Jax was hanging by a thread. Between the LSAT’s, your paralegal job, law school applications, you were constantly thinking about the future. A part of you still wanted that future to include Jax, despite all the cracks.

The tension between you two had been building for months. He’d invited you to a big MC party, but things between you were so fragile that you weren’t sure if going was the best thing. The law firm you worked for was in the middle of a huge case and you didn’t think you would be able to get away from the piles of research you had in front of you. Just as you were grappling with whether to go, your phone buzzed, Jax’s name lighting up across your screen.

Hey Pep, you coming to see me, or what? ;)

The pull between duty and heartache twisted in your chest. The case you were working on was critical, your future in law depended on it, and yet, a part of you longed to see him, to feel connected again. But you couldn’t ignore the creeping sense that you no longer fit in his world. The MC lifestyle felt more alien with every passing day.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard. I’m slammed with work right now… not sure if I can make it.

The moment the message left your screen, a wave of anxiety hit you. Would he be disappointed? Relieved? Part of you wanted him to push back, to make you feel like you still mattered enough for him to want you there.

A few seconds passed, then your phone buzzed again. His response appeared almost immediately, as if he had been waiting for your message just as eagerly.

You’re always slammed with work. But this is important to me. Come on, it’s just one night. I miss you.

Your heart clenched. He was good at that, making you feel guilty for choosing anything that wasn’t him or the MC. You read the message repeatedly, feeling the weight of his words.

"I miss you."

It was what you wanted to hear, but at the same time, it left you more torn than before. School, the case, it all seemed so distant now. Your mind flickered back to the last time you'd seen him, the strained goodbye, the unsaid things between you two. Maybe one night wouldn't change anything, but what if it did?

The screen dimmed as your phone idled, but you couldn't take your eyes off the words, wondering if you could keep walking this fine line between your past and your future.

You typed out ‘I'll try’ and stared at it for a long moment, your thumb hovering over the send button. It felt like a compromise, a way to keep one foot in each world without fully committing to either. But as you sent it, a pit formed in your stomach. You knew deep down that it wasn’t just about this one night—it was about all the nights before and all the ones that could come after.

Your phone buzzed again almost immediately.

That's my girl. I’ll be waiting for you.

His words sent a familiar warmth through you, but there was something bittersweet about it too. His girl. You weren’t sure if you even belonged to him anymore. Jax had a way of making you feel like nothing had changed, like the years apart hadn’t put a canyon between who you were and who you’d both become.

You sighed, glancing at the stack of case files on your desk. The logical part of you said you should stay, focus on the case. But another part, the one that still longed for the way things used to be, pulled you towards him. Like always.

You decided to work for another hour, hoping the mountain of research would drown out the thoughts of Jax and then head to the party. But time slipped away from you and when you finally glanced at the clock, a surge of panic shot through you. You were hours behind. Cursing under your breath, you threw everything into your bag and bolted out of your dorm.

The drive to Charming was long and familiar, each mile pulling you back to a life you’d tried so hard to leave behind. You hadn’t heard from him; you knew you were hours later than you planned, and he probably thought you weren’t coming. You decided to surprise him at this point, to see his face when you showed up after all. Maybe you could feel like you still belonged in his world, even if only for one night.

The roar of motorcycles echoed faintly in the distance, a sound you knew all too well. You parked a little way down from the clubhouse, your heart hammering in your chest as you walked toward the sounds of the party.

The parking lot was crowded with bikes, the familiar smell of leather and gasoline hitting you as you approached the entrance. The music was loud, people spilled out from the doors, laughing and drinking. You weaved through them, feeling the weight of old eyes on you, some curious, others familiar.

As you stepped inside, the chaos of the party washed over you. It was everything you remembered - loud, wild, and unapologetically SAMCRO. You scanned the room, looking for him, the anticipation of seeing him again made your heart race.

As you navigated through the crowded room, the air thick with smoke, alcohol, and the unmistakable roar of laughter and loud voices, you couldn't help but notice the women, Crow-eaters as they were not so affectionately referred as, draped over several members. They were scantily clad, their bodies pressed close to the bikers, and you felt the sharp sting of being out of place. Their boldness, their ease in this world, it was a stark contrast to the careful, controlled way you lived your life now.

You tugged at the hem of your jacket, suddenly hyper-aware of the more conservative clothes you wore and the way you didn’t fit in. You were polished, buttoned-up, and in a crowd like this, it made you feel like an outsider. The club girls knew their place, their roles in the MC hierarchy clear, but you used to think you belonged here. Now it felt foreign, like you were intruding on a life that had moved on without you. You weren’t one of them, and as much as you tried to pretend this night was about reconnecting with Jax, the reality was painfully obvious. This just wasn’t your world.

When you finally spotted him, it wasn’t the reunion you imagined. There he was, in the corner, alone with another girl, a girl too close for comfort. She was laughing, her hand on his chest, and his expression wasn’t one of protest.

Your stomach dropped. You’d heard rumors swirling around for a while, whispers you hadn’t wanted to believe, but this? This was undeniable.

You stormed over, heart pounding. “What the hell, Jax?”

He looked up, startled and shocked, and you saw the guilt flash across his face. The girl backed off immediately, sensing the tension, but it was too late. The damage was done.

“Pep, wait—” he started, but you weren’t having it.

“Wait for what? For you to finish whatever this is?” You could hear the anger and hurt in your voice, and it took everything not to lose it right there in front of everyone.

Jax stood, frustration mixing with his own guilt. “Shit, Babe - It’s not what it looks like. She’s no one, I swear—”

“Then why was she all over you?” You could feel your hands trembling, the betrayal sharp in your chest. “Do you even care anymore, Jax? Or am I just holding on to something that doesn’t exist?”

He stepped closer, grabbing your arm gently. “Of course I care. Pep, you know I love you and I’m not screwing around.”

You wanted to believe him, but that image of him with her was now burned into your mind. Still, as you stared into his eyes, the same eyes that had looked at you with love for years, you found yourself softening. Maybe it was out of habit, maybe it was out of hope, but you nodded, letting out a shaky breath, not wanting to do this with an audience. “Jax, this can’t happen again.”

He nodded quickly, pulling you into his arms. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ll do better. I swear.”

After the confrontation, he had come to you, apologizing, trying to explain away the situation as a misunderstanding, a mistake. And in that moment, you wanted so badly to believe him, to let the history between you two be enough to erase the pain of what you’d seen.

You stayed and he held you close that night, whispering promises that felt hollow. His arms around you were familiar, but they no longer felt like home. You could feel the space between you two, even as he lay beside you, his breath steady as he fell asleep.

You stared at the ceiling, your mind racing. Everything about this night, this life was a far cry from what you had imagined your future would look like. It didn’t matter how many times he apologized or promised to change. Something between you had shifted, and no amount of love was going to fix it. You knew deep down, as you lay there in the dark, that this had to be the end.

It wasn’t just about the girl he flirted with or the way he had laughed with her like you didn’t exist. It was about the path you were on, the future you were fighting for. It was about who Jax had become and who you had grown into. Jax had chosen this life, and in exchange, never fully choosing you. The club would always come first, and that realization cut deeper than anything else.

Your heart felt heavy as you got dressed quietly, careful not to wake him. The thought of leaving without saying goodbye tore at you, but you knew this had to be done. You had to walk away before the weight of staying crushed you.

You leaned down, placing a soft kiss on his lips, your hand resting on the side of his face, memorizing the feel of him one last time. His lips moved slightly under yours, and for a moment, you thought he might wake, but he didn’t. Part of you was relieved, saying goodbye right now would have been too hard.

Standing over him, you took a deep breath, knowing this might be the last time you’d ever see him like this, your Jax - peaceful, vulnerable. Your eyes lingered on him before you turned and walked out of the room, your heart breaking with every step.

The drive out of Charming felt endless, every mile putting more distance between you and the life you once knew. It gutted you to leave him behind, but deep down, you knew it was the only way to save yourself. You had outgrown this world, and it was time to let go of the one person you thought you’d never lose. As you merged onto the highway, the sun barely beginning to rise, you wiped away the tears that had silently fallen. This was the end, and even though it hurt like hell, you knew it was the right choice.

It had been a few weeks since that night and the heaviness in your heart had only deepened. You spent countless hours wrestling with the decision to end things with Jax. The memories of laughter and love felt like distant echoes, overshadowed by the harsh reality of your lives drifting apart. Tonight, you’d finally decided you were going to have the talk - the one that would sever the last ties binding you to him.

As you gathered your things, the clutter of books and notes on your desk only reminded you of the life you were trying to build apart from him. The stack of law books felt like a barrier, protecting you from the emotional storm you knew was about to hit. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the words you would say.

Just as you were about to walk out, a firm knock echoed through your small dorm. You paused, quizzical. You weren’t expecting anyone, and a twinge of anxiety twisted in your stomach.

“Hey,” came the gruff voice from the other side, and your heart dropped. It was Jax.

You opened the door, and your breath caught in your throat at the sight of him. He looked pale, his normally vibrant eyes clouded with something heavy. His usual confident demeanor was replaced by an unsettling vulnerability, and it sent a jolt of panic through you.

“Jax? What’s wrong?”

He stepped inside, his presence both comforting and terrifying. “I—” His voice cracked, and he took a moment, visibly struggling to find the right words. “It’s your dad. He… he’s gone.”

The world around you seemed to tilt on its axis. “What do you mean, gone?” you stammered, heart racing. “What happened?”

His gaze dropped, and he rubbed the back of his neck, a gesture that made your stomach churn. “There was a deal that went south. He got caught in the crossfire. They got him to the hospital, but it was too late.”

Shock flooded your body, a cold wave that left you feeling numb. “No. No, this can’t be happening.” You stumbled back, your vision blurring as tears threatened to spill over. Your father had always been your rock, the steady hand guiding you through life, it had always been just the two of you. “What do you mean caught in the crossfire? He was just… he was fine. I just saw him!”

Jax stepped closer, his expression pained, his own tears threatening to spill over. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

You shook your head, refusing to accept the reality he was laying before you. “You don’t understand. This is… I can’t… I don’t even know how to process this.” The words tumbled out, a desperate plea for understanding that fell flat.

He reached for your arm; his grip firm yet gentle. “Please, let me help you. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

The warmth of his touch ignited a swirl of conflicting emotions within you. He was the last person you wanted to turn to, yet in that moment, the desperation for comfort overpowered everything else. You felt so fragile, and the thought of facing this tragedy without him was daunting.

He cupped your face and in that moment, it was like the ground dropped out from under you. The room spun, and suddenly, everything—the fight, the tension, even your plans to leave Jax, seemed insignificant. Your dad was dead, and the club, the same club that had taken so much from you with Jax, had taken him too.

You collapsed into Jax’s arms, your tears soaking his shirt as you clung to him. And just like that, all your plans shattered. You weren’t thinking about law school anymore. You weren’t even thinking about breaking up with him. All you could think about was the fact that your dad was gone, and Jax was the only one who could understand the weight of that loss.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Jax made it through your father’s funeral, now bound together by grief, but even in the depths of your sorrow, it was a fragile connection. He had become your lifeline, holding you close as you navigated the crushing waves of loss. The club surrounded you, providing support in ways you hadn’t expected, ensuring that you wanted for nothing as you buried yourself in your studies during your last year of undergrad. You moved through life on autopilot, the world around you fading into a blur as you focused on school, pretending that everything would somehow work itself out.

As the months passed, acceptance letters from several schools filled your mailbox, a testament to your hard work and determination. But the joy of those accomplishments felt overshadowed by the grief that still clung to you like a heavy fog. Each letter was a reminder of a future you were hesitant to embrace. You were torn, unsure of where to go. Part of you wanted to stay close to Jax, to the familiarity of Charming, while another part yearned for a fresh start, a chance to break free from everything that haunted you.

But while you clung to Jax for comfort, the distance between you was palpable. You knew he was there, physically present, yet your relationship had become stagnant, a shell of what it once was. Jax provided a familiar solace, but it wasn’t enough to bridge the gap that had formed. The love that had once burned brightly now flickered like a candle, struggling against the grief that surrounded you both.

Everything came to a head one night at the clubhouse. As you paused outside Jax’s door, your hand froze on the doorknob, heart racing at the faint sound of laughter inside - his laughter. But he wasn’t alone. With a deep breath, you pushed the door open, and everything seemed to freeze around you.

There he was, sitting on the edge of the bed, shirt half unbuttoned, lips locked with some woman you didn’t recognize. Her laughter mixed with his, a sound that shattered your world once again. Time felt suspended as the reality of the moment set in.

“Jax!” The sound of your voice echoed painfully in the room, causing their laughter to halt abruptly. His eyes widened in shock, but they quickly filled with shame as he processed your presence. The woman beside him blinked, confusion dancing in her eyes, but you ignored her, shaking with betrayal as you stared at him. You didn’t even recognize him anymore.

“Shit! Pep, I—” he started, his voice thick with regret, but the words evaporated in the tension that filled the room.

Anger boiled within you, raw and relentless, as you stepped forward, heart racing. “You said you loved me! You promised you’d do better!”

He shifted uncomfortably, guilt etching deeper lines on his face. He couldn’t meet your gaze, knowing he had fucked up royally. The realization of what he had done hung heavily in the air, a small part of him recognizing that he had sabotaged your relationship out of fear. Fear of feeling stifled, of the stagnant love that no longer felt like home to him either.

When he reached out to touch you, desperation tinged with shame, you yelled. “Don’t! Don’t fucking touch me!” The slap was swift, fueled by raw emotion, landing with a force that surprised even you. The sound echoed in the room, sharp and definitive, as Jax's head snapped to the side, his face flushed with the imprint of your anger. The room seemed to hold its breath, and everything inside you unraveled.

The warmth and safety Jax once provided had turned cold. You could see the regret in his eyes, but it wasn’t enough to undo this betrayal.

That’s when Opie appeared, his expression a mix of sadness and empathy. He stood silently, a protective barrier between you and the pain. Without saying a word, he placed a hand on your shoulder, grounding you as everything inside you threatened to collapse. Jax remained quiet, his shame on full display, knowing he had lost something precious but feeling powerless to reclaim it.

“I’ll take care of her,” Opie said quietly, his voice steady. He didn’t need to say more; Jax knew better than to push. The hurt in his eyes was evident, but it was too late for apologies.

“Pep, please,” Jax finally managed, his voice hoarse, but it lacked the strength of conviction. His eyes were desperate, but beneath that desperation lay a deep-rooted acknowledgment of his failures, the realization that he had successfully pushed you away.

“Stop,” you snapped, tears streaming down your cheeks, anger morphing into deep-seated sorrow.

He stood there, paralyzed, unable to find the words that could ever justify this.

Opie stepped forward, his presence a comforting weight, trying to navigate you out of the room. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”

You turned away from Jax, feeling the ache of loss settle in your chest like a stone. Only a silent farewell passing between you. It was done. You and Jax were over.

As Opie led you away, the weight of everything crashed down on you. You had lost your father, and now, Jax too – his love that once brought you to life felt distant, unreachable. The noise of the clubhouse disappeared into the background, leaving you in a world where the only constant was your grief, and you didn’t know how to move forward.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leaving Charming felt like tearing a piece of your heart out. You had chosen the best law school you could, deliberately picking one as far away from California as possible. It was a decision that both terrified and relieved you. You needed to escape the memories, the grief, and, most of all, Jax.

As the day of your departure drew closer, the reality of it settled in, leaving you with an emptiness that clashed with your determination. You packed your things meticulously, each item a reminder of what you were leaving behind. But as much as you wanted to flee from your past, a part of you still ached for closure.

So, you agreed to meet Jax for a final goodbye, knowing it was something you both needed, even if it felt hollow. You chose a secluded spot in the park where you used to share lazy afternoons, a place where laughter once rang in the air. But today, the atmosphere was heavy with unspoken words and lingering sadness.

Jax was already there when you arrived, leaning against his bike, arms crossed, looking every bit the man you'd fallen for. His eyes locked on yours, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. The silence felt thick, filled with all the things you couldn’t say anymore.

“So, this is it,” Jax finally said, his voice quieter than usual. There was no edge, no teasing, only rawness.

You nodded, unsure of how to respond without unraveling. “Yeah, it is.”

He looked down, running a hand through his hair, the same way he always did when he didn’t know what to say. “I get why you’re going. You need to do this.” Jax replied, his eyes searching yours for something - understanding, perhaps, or forgiveness. “It’s just… hard to believe you won’t be here.”

You swallowed, your heart tightening in your chest. All you could muster was a simple nod of understanding.

For a solitary moment, it was like time rewound, and you were back to being the two of you, before everything got complicated. Before the weight of the club, the violence, and the grief. It would have been so easy to fall into his arms, but you held yourself still, knowing that this moment wasn’t about holding on, it was about letting go.

Jax straightened, stepping closer, his blue eyes still searching yours. “I wanted this life for us, you know? A real future.” His voice broke, just slightly, and it hit you harder than you expected.

“I know,” you whispered, your own emotions threatening to spill over. “But that’s not where we’re headed anymore.”

He reached for your hand, his grip firm but tender, as if it was the last connection keeping you from drifting apart. “Just… promise me one thing.”

You looked at him, your throat tight with unshed tears. “What?”

“Don’t forget about me, alright? Even if I’m just a memory, don’t forget.”

The weight of his words settled deep inside you. You could promise that, but you weren’t sure how much of Jax would be left in you once you stepped onto that plane. Still, you nodded, because in that moment, it was the only thing you could give him.

“Goodbye, Jax.”

His jaw clenched, and he pulled you into a hug, strong and secure. The scent of leather, smoke, and something distinctly Jax, washed over you, making you dizzy with the realization that this was truly the end. And when he let go, you didn’t look back.

As you walked away, each step felt heavier than the last, there was no turning around. Not now. You had to let him go, even if part of you never would.

Part 2 - The Reunion

#jax teller #jax teller x reader #soa #sons of anarchy #samcro #charlie hunnam #jax teller fic

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andvys · 1 year ago

Text

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter five ⭐︎ 'Cause you know it could never be

Warnings: alcohol consumption, mentions of the upside down, mentions of unrequited feelings, mentions of Stancy (I guess), but none really

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Weeks had passed since your conversation with Steve, and things between you have shifted into a different direction...

Word count: 8k+

Author's note: @hellfire--cult shoutout to my bestieeee, thank you for helping me and for keeping me in check, I love u

Series masterlist ⭐︎ Previous chapter ⭐︎ Next chapter

♡

As the weeks passed, the warmth slowly started to surround Hawkins. The flowers have all bloomed, the sun is blessing the town with light and it’s something you greatly appreciate, knowing that things could’ve been so different had victory not been the outcome weeks back.

The day Steve had come by to apologize and talk, things had started to change between the two of you. While you tried to avoid him at all costs, fearing more confrontations and arguments, Steve had done everything to show you that he really wanted to keep the peace between you both.

You felt awkward around him for the first few days after your conversation, especially because it felt like he was walking on eggshells when he was around you, he bit his tongue whenever you tried to throw a jab at him, he looked at you differently, he was careful with his words and it annoyed you to no end. You never wanted him to feel like he had to be nice to you after what happened. Luckily, he couldn’t keep his act up for long, the moment you said something that was enough to set him off, you went back to your usual banters – though, it didn’t feel as rough as it did before.

You were also dragged into everything involving the whole group. It’s something you would have hated if it wasn’t for Eddie who somehow had nestled his way into your life and reached for the title ‘best friend’ before you could even blink. Despite the fear that still lingered deep inside of you, you let him in and you are glad that you did so. You really needed a friend.

But you are not the only one who grew close to Eddie in the past few weeks, Steve has also taken a great liking to him, and you now see more of him than ever before, because now it isn’t only the weekly movie or game nights that you spend time with him, it’s also Tuesday nights at the hideout, Wednesday nights at the movies, Sunday mornings at the diner and… you don’t mind for a single second.

You used to watch him from afar, now he is everywhere you go and while the relationship you two have isn’t exactly friendly, you still appreciate it. You’ll take anything you can get when it comes to him.

You eye Eddie through the vanity mirror, watching as he lounges on your bed, flipping through some old magazine he had found on your shelf. His curls are wild on his head, a little tamer than usual though, a few new rings adorn his fingers as well as the new shirt that doesn’t exactly fit the occasion.

“Eddie, you could have at least put a nice shirt on! A black one! Without a stupid band logo at the front!”

“Stupid?” He gasps as he sits up, staring at you, looking very offended, “let me remind you, Sweetheart. None of them are stupid, they are meaningful and artistic.”

Max scoffs at him, trying not to shake her head as you’re still using the hot curling iron on her hair.

“Right, because the music video of that Samuel made absolutely fucking sense.”

He drops the magazine and jumps up from the bed, his jaw dropping at her words.

“You mean Samson!?” He almost yells, “Biceps of Steel is a masterpiece, Red!”

You and Max share a look of amusement through the mirror, scoffing simultaneously.

“Yeah, you made me watch that video like four times,” she rolls her eyes at him.

Eddie squints his eyes at her, continuing his ramble while you smile at their bantering.

Not only did you and Eddie grow closer, he and Max did too. Eddie’s new home is close to Max’s, just like back in the trailer park. And the teen just loves to bother Eddie and Uncle Wayne, more so Eddie in the early morning hours, knowing how grumpy he will get. She still snaps at him and judges his ‘poor’ taste in movies and music but he only judges back, though playfully. They behave like siblings and you never get bored watching their banters.

Eddie is the brother Max deserved to have.

“Bla bla bla,” she rolls her eyes at him, sighing in relief when you finish up with the final touches.

“Who taught you to be so rude, Red?” Eddie shakes his head in disapproval.

Max only laughs in response, she leans closer to the mirror and turns her head to the side as she touches her curls. Her eyes meet yours and a smile appears on her face, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you smile as you put the curling iron on your vanity.

Max gets up from the chair, she walks out of the room and into the hallway, still limping a little but the cast on her leg is already gone.

“I’ll call Lucas and see if he’s ready,” she says as she walks down the stairs.

You turn to face Eddie, who is staring at the dress you are wearing, like he only noticed it now. The playful smile on his face is now gone, replaced by a teasing one.

“Got all pretty for someone?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You tilt your head and squint your eyes, “it was a formal invitation, Eddie! You just didn’t get the memo.” You point to his band shirt before you turn away from him and sit down on the chair, picking up your lipstick that you haven’t applied yet.

Eddie rolls his eyes at your words, walking closer to you, he leans down and puts his hands on his knees, staring at you through the mirror.

“Darling, apple of my eye, sweetheart, long lost soulmate… I am not buying shit.”

You keep staring at your lips, careful not to go over the lines as you apply the rosy tone to them, only when you’re done and you put the lipstick in the bag you had picked out earlier, you look up at him with a sigh.

“It’s the same as always, Eddie.”

“Is it?” He tilts his head, still looking at you with that same teasing smile. “Cause while you do wear all these trendsetter outfits, I never saw you wear a dress this… fancy.”

“Trendsetter outfits?” You laugh, furrowing your brows at him. “And fancy? It’s just a black dress!”

He raises his brows, stepping away as he looks down at the silky fabric on your form.

“A little black dress.”

“Well, look who’s the trendsetter now!” You snort.

He walks back to your bed, picking up the fashion magazine that has a little black dress on the cover. He raises it up, showing it to you, “Vogue taught me.”

Shaking your head, you look back at your reflection and add the final touches to your hair, before you apply your favorite perfume. You get up and smoothe down your dress, it’s beautiful and you have been dying for a chance to wear it. But your stomach suddenly fills with doubt because of his reaction. Are you overdressed? No… right? It’s truly nothing special. It’s just a dress, a little black and silky dress, nothing fancy about it.

Besides, Joyce invited you all to a formal dinner, after all. You can’t show up in jeans and a t-shirt, even Max put on a skirt today and that girl hates dresses and skirts with a passion.

But maybe Eddie was right, maybe… you did think of a certain someone when you bought this dress, and maybe you do feel your insides tingling at the thought of seeing him again tonight, maybe you did get pretty for him – even when you know that he will have eyes for somebody else all night. That thought makes you want to stay at home and hide from the world but you can’t back out now, you couldn’t even decline the invitation you got from Joyce herself when you ran into her at the coffee shop two weeks ago.

She is one of the few people in this godforsaken town that you have always liked. Finding out that she is now dating Jim Hopper – the very alive Jim Hopper, wasn’t exactly a surprise to you. You heard all the rumors about them, even before you were dragged into the mess your new friends had been in for the past few years. – The bored middle aged women who met up at the coffee shop every Wednesday afternoon just loved to talk about all the existent and non-existent relationships in this town and well, you loved to hear about all the gossip too, though you always acted like you were immersed in the books you had brought, you really never read a single line whenever they were providing each other new drama.

On the drive to the Byers/Hopper house, you picked up Lucas before you made a quick stop at the store to buy a cake, none of you wanted to show up with empty hands and you didn’t know what else to get – besides the little bouquet of flowers that Lucas got for Joyce.

As you look out the window, watching the passing trees, you listen to Eddie’s conversation with Lucas.

“You ever wonder how Hopper explained his return from the dead?” Eddie asks as he plays with his sunglasses, “cause I’m really curious.”

“I am too,” Lucas says from the backseat.

“Do you think he went with the kidnapping story?” Eddie asks, his sunglasses low on his nose as he glances at you. “Imagine he told Chief Powell and Deputy Dumbass about the upside down.”

“Don’t say that too loud, Eds. Or the suit wearing dicks will come back to take all our hush money back,” you snort. “And then you’ll lose your fancy house and your fancy Barbecue grill.”

He waves his hand at you, “I’ll take my fancy Barbecue grill and move in with you. I’ll still have a fancy house, rich girl.”

You snort.

“Oh, can I move in then too?” Lucas asks, grinning at you. “You always got the best snacks,” he points to the store bought cake on your lap.

“Eddie and I chose the cake together,” you chuckle.

“Well, duh, we’d make great roommates, sweets,” Eddie winks at you. “Same taste in food – but you still need to up your music taste.”

You scoff.

“Honestly, I think a girls only place would be so much cooler,” Max says to him, “just peace all the time, no boys, no stinky clothes lying around… just pure girls heaven.”

Lucas frowns at her, tilting his head, “you say that to your boyfriend?”

Eddie snorts at the offended tone in Lucas’s voice, while you shake your head in amusement.

The burgundy BMW is already in the driveway when Eddie pulls up, he parks his car behind Steve’s. You inwardly curse at yourself for feeling a rush of something just from looking at his car. You tear your eyes away from it and take in the beautiful sight in front of you, instead.

The light blue house has a big porch, flowers on the grass in front of it, a big willow tree on the right side – it’s so pretty and this neighborhood is a quiet one, it’s perfect.

Lucas rings the doorbell, waiting patiently with the flowers in his hands that Max keeps teasing him about, giggling and making jabs at him until he finally gets fed up. He picks out one of the daisies and turns around to face his girlfriend, he brushes her hair back and tucks the little flower behind her hair, which shuts her up immediately, her eyes widen and she starts blushing furiously.

You press your lips together, so you don’t burst into giggles at the look on her face.

Lucas sighs in contentment when she grows silent, he turns back to the door.

Eddie though, he starts chuckling.

Max clenches her jaw, she sends Eddie the deadliest glare you have ever seen. It only makes you want to laugh even more.

The door opens and you’re all greeted by a very happy El, a bright smile on her lips as she waves at you.

“Hi guys, come in!” She reaches forward to Max, grabbing her hand and pulling her into the house, “I need to tell you something.”

The two girls scurry away and up the stairs, leaving the three of you standing on the porch.

Lucas shakes his head, sighing, “you know, I wouldn’t be surprised if Max left me to be with El.”

Eddie throws his arm around Lucas’s shoulder as they both step inside the house, “every girl has a girlfriend, just deal with it, Sinclair.”

“What?” You laugh, following them,“I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Oh, it’ll happen magically, Sweetheart. Once you have a boyfriend, you’ll also find a girlfriend.”

“That literally makes no sense.”

“Oh,” Lucas smirks, looking over his shoulder at you, “he means, once you and Steve stop acting like you hate each other and you’ll fall in love and get together, you won’t only have a boyfriend, you will also have a girlfriend which is his best friend,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

You roll your eyes and ignore the way your cheeks heat up at the word ‘boyfriend’. Steve will never be your boyfriend, he won’t even be anything close to it. Hell, he is barely even a friend. He is your frenemy.

You open your mouth to speak when Joyce walks out into the hallway, smiling at the three of you before a gasp falls from her lips when Lucas hands her the flowers.

“Oh, you’re such a sweetheart, Lucas,” she smiles down at the flowers.

You feel a little out of place, being new to this group, being in a tight friend group for the first time in your life feels nerve wracking. And while you aren’t the only one, Eddie is definitely way more sociable and open than you are, where you struggle to make conversations, he rambles on just about anything.

But Joyce makes you feel welcome, she greets you with a warm smile, placing her hand on your arm.

“We got you your favorite,” Eddie grins at her, taking the cake from your hands so you can greet her properly.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have! You’re all so kind,” she smiles at the both of you, “come on, I’ll put it in the fridge for now. You guys go ahead, Jonathan and Nancy are in the backyard with Hop, the kids are in the living room.”

When you step inside, you notice the smell of food from the kitchen and the dining room, the sound of music playing from the stereo – Joy Division. You know right away that Jonathan was the one who put on the music.

You greet Mike, Will and Dustin who are in a heated conversation about something D&D related.

Robin walks into the living room, her blue eyes meet yours and a smile appears on her face.

You eye her up and down, she’s wearing black dress pants, suspenders over her red blouse. Your lips curl into a smirk when your eyes meet hers. She opens her arms for you and you hug her, leaning closer to her ear, “if I was into girls, I’d be on the floor for you right now, Buckley,” you joke, suggestively.

She gasps and slaps your arm lightly, “naughty.”

A giggle falls from your lips when you pull away from the hug, “it’s the truth, you look hot in this outfit.”

She shakes her head, biting her lip as she tries to hide the blush on her cheeks.

“You’re one to talk,” she whispers, smirking when she takes a look at your dress, “how did Munson not crash the car?”

Your lips part in shock, and you look down, “i-is that too revealing?” You whisper, tugging at your dress.

She starts chuckling, “no, I just mean because you’re so gorgeous,” she winks. “I know I’d crash the car, I’d be too busy staring at you.”

“Oh my god,” you swat her arm this time, “Eddie and I are not attracted to each other.” And you’re certainly not lying about that.

“Robin, I see her the same way you see Steve,” Eddie suddenly says from behind you, throwing his arm around your shoulder. “Difference? I’m heterosexual,” he whispers to her before he looks at you, “no offense, it’s not that you’re not hot, it’s just that you’re a little gremlin to me already.”

Your eyes flash with amusement and you put your hand on your chest, “I will take offense to that actually.”

Your stomach flutters when your eyes fall on the figure in the kitchen.

“Sucks to be you then,” he chuckles, “anyways, how’s Vickie doing?” He wiggles his brows at Robin.

You don’t even hear Eddie’s words, you’re already too far gone, staring at the one you had your eyes set on since forever. You don’t know how he always does it, but he looks so gorgeous. His fluffy hair looking better than ever, a smile lingering on his face as he talks to Joyce.

His white shirt is tucked into his dark brown slacks that he paired with a black belt. He looks like he walked straight out of a 60s movie and god, he looks really good. He turns his back to you, and you watch as Joyce leaves the kitchen, walking out into the backyard.

You don’t feel your feet moving, but you feel yourself being pulled into the kitchen, still admiring Steve – his broad shoulders, the way his muscles are moving underneath the shirt.

You are practically drooling over the guy, and you feel shame but not enough to stop yourself from ogling him, maybe you’d feel a bit more ashamed if things between you haven’t shifted into something else, you still get on each other’s nerves, the bickering is still there, poking into each other's ribs to see who bends first, but all that is never too much or hurtful. The scowls are there, they never left, the scrunches of noses, the deadly glares. But you noticed that the bickering had gone from yelling to soft talking. Enough for just the two of you to hear, no one else.

It’s all still the same… but it also isn’t.

And you can’t help but love it.

Steve is cutting vegetables and throwing them into the bowl. Your heart flutters as you take another moment to look at him. While the others are chatting in the living room and in the garden, Steve is helping Joyce prepare dinner. Cute.

You lick your lips, moving closer to him, you brush your hand over his shoulder as you walk past him, not even realizing how soft your touch actually was.

Steve tenses up, not because he doesn’t like your touch – but because he does. He likes it, even if he would never admit it. He recognizes you by the sweet and flowery scent of your perfume, something that makes his insides tingle in an unfamiliar way.

“Hey, Lego head,” you greet him, leaning against the counter next to him, “nice mousse on the hair.”

A smirk tugs at his lips, he puts down the knife as he opens his mouth to speak, though when he turns to look at you, his breathing stutters, his heart stops beating and his eyes widen as the smirk slowly falls – instead, his cheeks heat up and he presses his lips back together, gulping as he takes in the sight of you in your beautiful dress. It’s not any different from the sundresses that you’ve been wearing a lot lately, but it would be enough to make him stutter if he tried to talk right now, because somehow, you look even more beautiful, right now.

You turn away from him, looking around at the food he had already helped prepare, giving him the perfect opportunity to ogle you. It’s a good thing he stopped cutting the fruit, and put the knife down before he saw you, he surely would’ve chopped a finger off by now, and he’s not sure if he would have noticed because, all that he is focused on is how pretty you look, with your glowy, smooth skin and the makeup that you don’t even need, the dress that almost has him on his knees.

But he gets dragged back into reality when your eyes meet his and he remembers who you aren’t supposed to be – a girl who effortlessly manages to make him blush. No one has ever made Steve Harrington blush, absolutely no one, and he surely won’t let you be the first.

“Blondie.”

“Do you think they’ll let us drink?” You ask, looking around as you try to spot anything but soda.

Steve chuckles, shaking his head.

“Are you twenty one yet? No. What makes you think that Hopper will let us drink?” He picks up the knife again, forcing his eyes away from you.

“We fought monsters and had near death experiences multiple times,” you roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest, “will alcohol hurt us?”

“No, but it might turn you into an alcoholic, better not start with that, kid.” Hopper suddenly appears from behind, causing you to flinch.

Steve watches from the side, laughing at the wide eyed look on your face.

You turn to face the older man, scrunching up your nose when your eyes instantly fall on the beer in his hand, “oh, really? What’s that in your hand then, alcoholic?” You mock him.

Hopper shakes his head, chuckling.

“So that’s where El’s attitude has been coming from lately.”

“Told you, miss sunshine over here is a bad influence,” Steve jokes.

“Don’t know which attitude you’re talking about, I don’t have one.”

At that, both Steve and Hopper burst out laughing, the latter squeezes your shoulder as he walks past you, “you keep telling yourself that, kid.”

“Well, aren’t we celebrating something today?” You ask.

Hopper opens the fridge, taking out another beer after throwing the empty can into the trash. He looks at you with raised brows, a smile tugging at his lips.

None of you know what this celebration even is about, that you all got invited to – except for El, Jonathan and Will, of course. They know all about it.

“Yeah.”

“So… can’t celebrate without the drinks,” you shrug, giving him a sheepish smile.

You’re unaware of the smile on Steve’s lips as he watches you.

“You’re nineteen, wait two more years–”

“We fought interdimensional monsters, this one almost got strangled to death,” you point at Steve, “not to mention all the times he got his ass kicked–”

“You didn’t need to go there, Blondie,” he rolls his eyes.

“I almost died! A girl can have a drink, come on!”

Hopper sighs, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks between the two of you.

You are desperate for a drink, it’s been months since you had any alcohol in your system, and you’re craving the buzz, feeling careless and free. All you felt after the night at the Creel house was pain… and more pain. Your head was constantly hurting, your vision blurred every time you got up, the dizziness drove you crazy – it’s still there sometimes, but you feel better now, much better, good enough to have drinks again.

But the stubborn man won’t let you have it and you can already tell by the look on his face that he will say no. So, you pull out the big guns.

You smirk at him, tilting your head.

“My dad told me what you used to get up to in high school.”

He holds his hands up, squeezing his eyes shut in annoyance.

“Didn’t you and Joyce used to smoke pot behind–”

Steve’s eyes widen as his lips part in surprise.

“Get this demon a drink, Steve.” He waves his hand and quickly leaves the room, sending you another warning glance over his shoulder.

“Why me…” Steve mutters.

“Cause you’re maid material, chop chop, Harrington.”

He sighs, rolling his eyes again.

“Oh hey Hop, long time no see.” You hear Eddie’s voice in the living room, followed by Hopper’s groan.

If you weren’t so fixated on Steve right now, you’d be watching Eddie’s and Hopper’s interaction, right now. It’s never not amusing.

“You sure you want me to make you a drink?” He steps away from the counter and bends down to open the cabinet he saw Hopper putting the whiskey into earlier, he looks through the few bottles and reaches for the rum.

You watch the way he furrows his brows, licking his lips as stares at the bottle. He straightens his back and steps up beside you again.

“Well, didn’t you used to throw parties and mix cocktails?” You shrug, tilting your head to the side.

Steve watches you, the way your flashes flutter as you blink, the way you look at him so innocently, something that makes him feel… intrigued.

“I never got to taste it,” you pout.

He swallows harshly.

“I’m craving something sweet on my lips right now, so please… Can you make me a drink?” You ask with a sickly sweet tone in your voice, not intending these words to sound so… suggestive and you don’t even notice it either.

But he does, and he almost drops the bottle he is holding. Your flirty words make his eyes widen and his stomach flutters. It’s not the first time something like this happened, you threw suggestive words or glances at him before but all this time he was certain that you did this unintended – even now, because the look on your face is innocent, genuinely innocent.

You aren’t teasing, you aren’t even aware of how flirty you can be sometimes.

He turns away from you, walking over to the fridge, he grabs the pineapple juice and puts it on the counter next to the bottle of rum.

He looks up at the shelf, where all the long drink glasses are. How convenient it is that you’re standing right in front of it.

While you do everything unintended, he doesn’t. He knows what he is doing when he steps towards you. He looks down at you with that same innocent look that you just gave him, the only difference is that he isn’t innocent. He places his hand on your waist, testing the waters. “Excuse me,” he murmurs, squeezing your waist ever so softly. He reaches over your shoulder as he grabs the glass, he keeps his eyes on you, biting back the smirk when he sees the way your eyes widen and you visibly gulp.

Your lips part and you start blinking, looking up at him before your eyes fall to his chest and you squirm beneath his stare.

Got you. He thinks.

You stop breathing and your heart freaking jumps in your chest, his innocent touch is almost enough to make your knees buckle.

Despite the nervousness, you look into his eyes, watching the way they twinkle with mischief. Bastard. Is he doing this on purpose? Because he somehow knows that every slightest touch from him drives you crazy?

He takes way too long to get that stupid glass from the shelf but fuck, you can’t help but love the way his big hand feels on your body, or the way he is almost pressed against you, the way the smell of his cologne makes your stomach flutter.

And then, he steps away like nothing happened.

Because it was nothing… to him.

Even when there’s a hint of a smirk on his lips as he prepares the drink, you know that this was only because he wanted to get a reaction out of you.

“Here,” he slides the drink over to you, still smirking, “try it.”

You wrap your hand around the cold glass and take the straw between your fingers, stirring the ice around, furrowing your brows, “what’s this called?”

He crosses his arms over his chest, “the King Steve special,” he winks.

You scrunch your face up at him.

Wrapping your lips around the straw, you look into his eyes as you try it, the sweetness from the pineapple juice definitely overpowers the taste of rum, and you don’t know if you like it or not.

Steve ignores the way his stomach tingles from watching you – watching your glossy lips as they’re wrapped around the black straw.

“Jesus, that really is a high school drink, King Steve.”

He squints his eyes at you, “it’s a fucking drink, Blondie.”

“A horrible one at that.”

He places his hand on his hip, rolling his eyes at your words, but a smirk tugs at his lips and he suddenly leans closer to you to whisper in your ear.

“You really fooled me with that dress of yours… if only you kept your mouth shut.”

He wants to stay and keep staring at the shocked look on your face, at the way you grow so flustered beneath his stare. The smirk that lingers on his lips grows even wider when he sees the way your lips part but close again.

He left you speechless.

He reaches for the bowl of salad, “gonna bring this out,” he says, tilting his head into the direction of the garden, “they set up the table outside.”

You don’t even hear his words, you just stare at his lips before your eyes fall on the chain around his neck. You swallow and look down, hiding your flustered face as you take another sip of the drink.

Steve holds back the chuckle, he turns away begrudgingly and walks out, he would’ve loved to see more of that look on your face.

It takes you a moment to recover from whatever that was, you nearly down the King Steve Special in one go. And maybe preparing yourself a second drink is a mistake, knowing that you will probably feel more than just a slight buzz, you only had breakfast and you skipped lunch because you were too busy getting ready and stressing over your hair that never looks nearly as perfect as Steve’s does.

You step out into the backyard, the table on the porch is already filled with food and drinks, the smell of the Barbecue lingering in the air. Jonathan is standing in front of the grill with Nancy by his side, her chin on his shoulder, her arm wrapped around his waist, they’re talking and smiling at each other.

As you watch them, the sudden realization that you will never have anything like they do, fills you with a slight sadness.

You don’t envy them, you’re happy for them, you’re happy for anyone who gets to experience love. But maybe, you envy the love someone else still holds for her, someone you will never have.

You look down, frowning at your drink.

The teens all stumble out into the backyard as Joyce ushers them to the table.

You flinch a little when you suddenly feel an arm around your shoulder, instantly recognizing Eddie’s cologne, you turn your head to look at him.

“This could be us if you weren’t such a gremlin,” he says as he points to Jonathan and Nancy who are now kissing, in front of the sizzling meat that is probably now burning.

You squint your eyes, shaking your head disapprovingly.

You know he’s only joking, and it fills you with relief, because as much as you crave what they have, you definitely don’t crave it with Eddie. You crave to have this with Steve, and it’s something you feel stupid for. The guy may not hate your guts anymore, but he’s surely not your biggest fan either.

“You know, you’re a gremlin too, Eds.”

“That’s why we’re best friends,” he chuckles, patting your shoulder as he looks down at the drink in your hand, “what’s that?”

“King Steve Special,” you snort, offering it to him, “well, this one was made by me.”

“Can I try?”

You hand it to him, and his curious eyes widen when he takes a sip, “wow, that is uh–”

“Too sweet?”

He shakes his head at you, curls bouncing, “nah, it’s perfect.”

“Well, you can have it, I might get drunk if I finish that.”

“Already!?” He scoffs, shaking his head at you, “lightweight.”

"Uh, excuse me? I haven’t had any drinks in months, Eddie. Months.”

“Well, I haven’t had any in weeks, I’m still standing.”

“You only took one sip!”

He takes another sip and grins at you, holding up two fingers.

“Two sips.”

You can’t even help but laugh, slapping his shoulder lightly, “you are so–”

“Funny? Handsome? Perfect?”

“Too cocky?” Lucas says behind Eddie, grinning at him.

“Me and cocky?” Eddie raises his brows, “never.”

“Oh no, that kid is right, boy. You’re cocky,” Hopper sighs, “trust me.”

“Well, I am also very fast, Chief,” he smirks, winking at the older man, “but you already know that.”

Hopper’s amused face grows serious, a hardened look takes over and he grumbles something under his breath as he stares at Eddie. You can’t even help but giggle. – A sound that doesn’t go unheard by Steve who just sat down across from Robin, not even hiding the fact that he no longer listens to her rambling about some movie she watched with Vickie last night. All he can do, all he can see, all he can hear right now is you, just you.

The sound of your giggles is not something he is used to – he is used to your grumbling, to your sarcastic chuckles and the smirks on your face. A giggle? A very unusual sound to hear but something that he’s been hearing quite often lately. If your friendship with Eddie wasn’t so obvious, he might’ve thought that you took a liking towards him, but it’s clear that your friendship with him is just like his with Robin; Platonic with a capital P.

He can’t help but smile as he watches you, not because he likes you, god no. He just likes watching you. You are pretty, gorgeous even. He always knew that, even through his dislike, he always saw your beauty – he isn’t blind. And seeing you like this makes his chest feel… warm.

He eyes your dress again, the lace on the straps lay so prettily on your shoulders, the silky material fitting your upper body so perfectly, it’s loose on your hips, and it’s short, not too short but enough to make him gulp.

The chair scrapes against the floor, but even that sound doesn’t tear his attention away from you.

Nancy steps up beside you, exchanging a few words with you and Eddie before she turns her head into Steve’s direction, she lifts her hand and points at him, something that instantly makes Steve tense up, because not only did Eddie catch him staring at you, you did too.

With his cheeks blushing red, he clears his throat and turns back to Robin who is now rambling Dustin’s ear off. He places his elbow on the armrest, running his fingers through his hair nervously.

What is wrong with him? Since when does he spend time staring at you? Since when does he blush because of you?

“Here you can sit next to your favorite person, gremlin.”

He doesn’t know who he expected to sit down beside him, but he surely didn’t think it’d be you. He goes to lift his head when you pull back the chair. Just as he’s about to glance at you, he suddenly feels your hand on his knee and hears your groan as you stumble forward a little.

“Almost broke my ankle, for fucks sake. I’m sorry, Lego head,” you mumble, inwardly cursing at yourself for tripping over the stupid leg chair and using him to steady yourself. You remove your hand when you finally sit down, turning away from him to hide the flustered look on your face.

He blinks, swallowing the lump in his throat, he plasters a smirk on his face, “are you drunk from that one drink, Blondie?” He chuckles, watching the way you roll your eyes at his question.

You feel a slight buzz, but you’re not sure whether it’s because of the alcohol or his ‘flirty’ comment that certainly had no meaning.

Steve loves to flirt and he does it every chance he gets but he definitely wouldn’t flirt with you, no matter how desperate he’d be, you’d never be good enough for Steve Harrington.

When everyone is finally seated and the rest of the food is now on the table, Hopper is standing up with a drink in his hand, waiting for the teen boys to stop talking so he can finally open his mouth to speak. He tries to be patient, he really tries.

Joyce looks down in amusement.

Jonathan waves at Dustin, trying to shut him up, but the boy doesn’t see, too focused on the conversation with Mike.

“Mike,” El whispers, nudging him with her elbow.

He looks away from Dustin, and turns to look at his girlfriend when his eyes find Hopper glaring at him with that very intimidating look on his face.

His face grows pale and he slowly leans back in his seat, punching Dustin in the arm to shut up.

Hopper clears his throat, he puts his hand on the back of his neck, squinting his eyes a little. It’s silent now, except for the faint music that still plays in the living room. His throat bobbed as he looked around the table.

You can tell that he struggles to find his words, by the note that sticks out of the pocket in his flannel, you can tell that he had already prepared a speech.

Joyce gives him an encouraging nod as she reaches for his hand.

“I uh– I just, I thought that it would be a great idea for us all to sit down and uh… chat. I’m not good at all of this so I’ll just jump straight into it,” he starts, chuckling at his own words, before seriousness takes over his features again, “you kids went through a lot, you went through too much, every single one of you. But you were all so brave, you stuck together and defeated that… son of a bitch.”

Giggles erupt around him and his lip twitches a little.

“We defeated him,” El says, smiling at her dad, “we defeated that son of a bitch, “together.”

“Language, kid,” Hopper chuckles but he shakes his head at her, “but yeah, together.”

“The past few years haven’t been easy for any of you,” he continues, looking at all the young teens, at his daughter, at Jonathan and Nancy but also at Robin and Steve, and then he looks between you and Eddie too. “You all lost something or someone, you shouldn’t know what it’s like but uh, I guess in all of this chaos, you all found each other and I-I think that’s, that’s something, that means a lot.”

You can tell that he is struggling to say these words out loud, you hear the shakiness in his voice, the way he is holding himself together, the way he is speaking so softly because of how emotional he is after he spent the past few years in darkness after losing people he loved.

El and Joyce stepped into his life and so much chaos followed when he was dragged into a mess he had only seen in movies before, but it also brought him so much light and happiness again.

Just like it did for you and you wouldn’t change a thing about it.

If you had to go back and relive all the awful things you had to endure those few weeks back, you would’ve done it in a heartbeat. Because, despite the horrors and the darkness you had been pulled into, you have found friends, a family. You found a best friend again, Eddie who sits across from you, smiling at you because he too, found a best friend in you.

And you and Steve, you aren’t close by any means, but you are happy to have him in your life now, even if only like this.

“And I, I found a family and my uh beautiful soon to be wife.”

It takes a moment for the words to sink in.

It takes another moment for everyone to lose their calmness.

When the soft smiles vanish and the shocked and surprised looks take over your faces, Joyce and Hopper can’t help but laugh.

“W-Wait what!?” Dustin shrieks, “you’re getting married!?”

“Yep,” Hopper nods, smiling proudly.

El is smiling excitedly, clapping her hands together, like she is relieved that it’s no longer a secret, “and I can’t wait for the wedding!”

Nancy and Jonathan laugh at her excitement, while Dustin still looks between the older couple.

You glance at Eddie, who is staring at Hopper like he wants to say something but he bites his tongue, not wanting to ruin the sweet moment with one of his jokes.

“And we want you all to be there,” Hopper nods with a small smile on his face, “it wasn’t my idea to invite you all, just so you know.”

Everyone laughs at his words and the fake grumpy look on his face, by now you all know that the former Chief isn’t as mean and cold as everyone always knew him to be.

“It was his idea,” Joyce smiles, cheekily.

“Of course it was, he loves us!” Dustin grins at Hopper.

“Well, congrats,” Robin smiles brightly, “I can’t believe you’re inviting a bunch of kids but hey, I’m excited!”

Joyce gives her a warm smile, while Hopper grumbles something under his breath as he looks between Dustin and Mike.

After all the congratulations go around, Hopper finally takes a seat, pointing at all the food on the table, including the few pieces of chicken that Jonathan had burned because he was too busy making out with Nancy, telling you all to finally ‘dig in’.

The conversations flow easily between everyone and it feels familiar despite being new to this circle.

And while you and Steve don’t really talk to each other, you feel his eyes on you every once in a while. You feel his arm brushing against yours, his hands grazing your knuckles whenever he reaches for his drink – and every slightest touch shoots electricity through your veins and your heart beats a little faster every time his skin touches yours.

You curse at yourself for feeling so weak for him, for almost crumbling after only these small and very innocent touches, for liking someone who spent most of his life hating you.

You spend the rest of the night avoiding him, trying to lean away, trying to look at anyone but at him. And even then, you can still feel his eyes on you and it’s driving you crazy and you suddenly can’t wait to get away from him so you can finally breathe and stop feeling so delusional – his comment, his touches, his glances are all getting too much. If he was someone else, you would think that he was flirting but he is Steve Harrington for god's sake, and he would never flirt, not with you.

You feel relief rushing through your whole body when hours later, Eddie announces that he is going home, you almost jump up and bolt towards the door but your best friend seems to have other plans.

With his hands on your shoulder and an apologetic smile on his face, he opens his mouth, “Buckley is driving my car tonight, I wouldn’t want to put you in danger, sorry sweets, you’re with Harrington tonight. Don’t worry, you’ll be in good hands.” He winks and pinches your cheek before he scurries away.

Robin follows him, winking at you as she walks out with Eddie’s car keys, and the teens following her.

Max gives you a sheepish smile, mouthing a ‘sorry’ before she walks out, as well, leaving you standing in the hallway.

What the hell.

You have been waiting to get away from him, now you’re forced to drive home with Steve? No. Just the thought of being alone with him makes you feel nervous.

You look around the empty hallway, you already said your goodbyes to everyone and no one will care how or who you went home with. You can just walk home… by yourself, and you won’t have to suffer through another car ride with Steve.

But as you reach for the knob, the sound of keys jingling stops you from opening the door. You close your eyes, clenching your jaw. You don’t have to look to know who it is.

“Running away from me?” Steve asks.

You look over your shoulder, meeting his eyes and the smirk on his face. Hazel eyes glowing beneath the dim lights.

“Come on, Blondie,” he murmurs, eyeing you up and down as he steps up behind you, placing his hand over yours so he can open the door.

His hand touches yours. His hand envelopes yours fully. His chest is almost pressed against your back. Your heart flutters and your knees almost buckle for real, this time.

His lip twitches and he licks them as he looks down at you.

You tear your eyes away from him when he opens the door. You quickly step out and breathe in the fresh night air, hoping that it will calm your racing heart.

“I-I didn’t know you’d be my ride tonight.”

Steve watches the way your dress sways as you walk down the porch steps. Fuck. He clears his throat, but feels unable to look away as he follows you. You don’t even look back at him, not until you’re standing next to his car and giving him a very annoyed look.

“Is that a problem for you?”

“Maybe.”

He shakes his head with a chuckle as he unlocks his car.

“Get your ass in the car, Blondie.”

Steve doesn’t know what it is about you today, but everything you do, everything you say drives him crazy. That cheeky smile that you throw at him as you open the door, the way you tilt your head as you lick your upper lip before you say “yes, sir.” Has him clenching his jaw.

He looks up into the night sky, taking a deep breath before he gets in the car.

He tries not to look at you, but it’s hard not to when he for some reason feels some sort of electric pull towards you tonight.

He starts the car and pulls out of the driveway without another word.

Neither of you speak on the drive home but Steve can’t help but steal glances, while you are completely unaware of it, just like you’re unaware of how much your dress rode up, not enough to reveal too much but enough to make him sweat.

Steve is under your spell tonight and you don’t even know it.

The drive to your house is too short for his liking and unlike him, who seems to be eager to spend more time with you tonight, you seem like you can’t wait to jump out of the car and get away from him.

You open the door, mumbling a ‘thanks for the ride.’

“You know, I really didn’t think that you could dress like that, Blondie.” He says, intending those words to sound… flirty.

A laugh falls from your lips because of how absurd this is. He didn’t think you looked cute, he probably thinks you dress too feminine for the attitude you have towards him, that’s all. This new kind of teasing is hurting you, but you can’t say anything about it to him, you can’t say that this hurts you, that it’s making you go insane. He would ask why, and you would have no excuse. You can’t face rejection, at least not right now… So you play along.

“Careful, Lego head. You’ll give me the wrong idea and make me think that you have a crush on me or something,” you joke with words he said to you not too long ago. You throw a wink at him and shut the door before he can even open his mouth to say something.

With his hand on the steering wheel and his eyes still stuck on you, he breathes heavily, his heart pounding and his cheeks burning as he slowly comes down from whatever high he had been on all day.

He swallows harshly, but his heart fucking flutters when he can smell your perfume that still lingers.

He watches you disappear into your house and shutting the door without giving him another glance or something.

He slumps back in his seat, throwing his hand into his hair, he runs his fingers through it as all the events come rushing to him.

The teasing, the touches, the… flirting.

Steve is stunned by his own actions, by how he acted towards you today – something that you were very unaware of, something that he is now glad about… Yet, he can’t help but feel a little disappointed that you didn’t notice the teasing.

He doesn’t even know where it all came from but he blames it on his desperation to feel something again, something that he had been craving for so long.

He was guided by lust, not by interest.

Because in no way, would he ever be interested in you.

All he saw today was a pretty girl in a pretty dress, it didn’t matter that it was you. He just needed to feel something, and he did… by teasing you.

But it’s something that will never happen again.

He swears, it will never happen again.

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @maroon-cardigan @munsonlore @munson-mjstan @sherrylyn628 @ibellcipem

I'm sorry if I forgot anyone again (I'm the worst at taglists)

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #stranger things angst

1K notes · View notes

arbitrarykiwi · 10 days ago

Note

I absolutely LOVE your thanos and namgyu boyfriend content🙏😣 can you please make one where Namgyu is more on the sub side (he’s very whiny and needy) and he also gets jealous easily (like he always needs your hands on him even while giving thanos attention) That would be so greatly appreciated!!💕 (I never see sub Namgyu anywhere😭😭)

Undivided Attention

OH MY LAWD IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. I’m so sorry I’ve been gone so long too 😔😔 I’ve missed you guys!!! I literally had this written for months and just needed to finish something’s up- then I broke my phone, lost my WIPs and got locked out of this account for a moment but we’re SO BACK YALL!

My posting schedule will still be wonky as I try to get back into the swing of things. But I really hope you guys like this one I tried to add a lil more to make it a bigger gift as apology for my absence 🤲

Warnings: smut (18+) , p in v sex , oral (m receiving) , choking , dirty talk , sub!nam-gyu , name calling (slut like once or twice) , little bit of thanos x namgyu , squirting , creampie , cum eating , deep throating , cowgirl, probably others read at your own risk

The whole day you’ve realized something was different about Nam-Gyu. It wasn’t anything bad he was just needy. Thanos had of course noticed it too, poking fun at the other male anytime a pout formed on Nam-gyu’s face.

He was clingy, more so than usual.

When you got out of the shower Nam-gyu and Thanos were waiting for you as you got out like normal. Laugher bubbled out of your chest as Nam-gyu nearly knocks over Thanos to be the one to wrap the towel around you. His arms wrap around you and chin hooking over your shoulder- caging you into him as his lips pepper kisses on your still wet skin.

“C’mon man! I could have sworn it was my turn to do that.” Thanos pouts, regaining his balance and coming to your other side to place a kiss on your cheek. “Don’t care, didn’t ask.” Nam-gyu mumbles against your skin, breathing in the smell of the soap you just used. He’s rubbing his face into your neck, like he can’t get enough of you. The long black hair falling over his face and ticking your neck. Thanos quirks up an eyebrow, catching your eyes in the mirror; both of you sensing Nam-gyu’s new attitude.

You realized throughout the day that Nam-gyu was unusually needy. You weren’t complaining! It was endearing and you loved the extra attention. But it was drastically different from his normal self. Nam-gyu would often act so nonchalant about everything, he would need your attention but he’d never beg for it- he was far too ‘cool’ for that. If he wanted your hands on him or your attention, he would just take it. But not today.

When you were getting ready, doing your makeup in the mirror Nam-Gyu was next to you- handing you whatever you needed next and sitting shoulder to shoulder with you. “You’re practically on top of me.” You giggle while looking at Nam-gyu through the mirror who had his head laying on your shoulder, his hands tracing patterns into your thigh. It was like he physically couldn’t be away from you. Like he needed to be in your skin.

Thanos was lying on the bed behind you two, chuckling at Nam-gyu’s demeanor. “You’re so needy today bro..” Thanos laughs, hands reaching out to rub at Nam-gyu’s shoulders, shaking him around. “So what.” Nam-gyu responds, pouting, leaning his head onto your shoulder and inhaling your scent. “Jus’ wanna be near my baby.” He finishes as he places a kiss on your shoulder, handing you your eyeliner.

“You’ve been near her! The whole day!” Thanos jokes, ruffling up Nam-gyu’s hair much to his dismay. “Yeah, and I need to be near her more…you smell so good.” His own bite back to Thanos is cut short when he inhales your scent once more, smelling the familiar scent of your shampoo and perfume. It was like home to him (and to Thanos but this ain’t about him rn).

“Thank you, love.” You smile at him from the mirror where you’re doing your makeup, finding a stopping point to look to your side and place a gentle kiss on Nam-gyu’s head. Thanos rolls his eyes and leans further over the edge of the bed to get closer to you. “Me too!!” He whines playfully, and you can’t say no so you turn and place a kiss on his cheek. Nam-gyu huffs, pouting when your attention is drawn away from him. Even for the slightest second.

This attitude of his continued the whole day. Hell, you three even ordered in because Nam-gyu said he didn’t feel like cooking, and that was odd. He really just didn’t want to be distracted by making dinner when he could be spending time with his sweet girl! Those minutes cooking were minutes he couldn’t have his hands on you. He didn’t want that….And led up to where you were now

You three were laid out on your bed, watching some show that Thanos wanted to watch. You’re sure three blunts have been smoked by now and all three of you were properly stoned. You’d figure that maybe if Nam-Gyu got high, he’d be a little more mellow, maybe more laid back- that wasn’t the case. Now he was practically on top of you, nuzzling his face into your chest like he wanted to get into your skin.

“Come on man! You’re stealing all the warmth!” Thanos groans, trying to wrap his arms around you to pull you more into him. “No ‘m not.” Nam-gyu mumbles, his face buried in your chest, his words hardly audible. “Yes you are!!” Thanos groans, sliding an arm between you and Nam-Gyu to grab onto your waist and pull you closer to him. Thanos kisses along your neck, the light pecks becoming ticklish as he kisses your skin over and over as you giggle.

Nam-gyu whines when Thanos pulls you from him and takes your attention. It’s a sound that makes you and Thanos pause completely. Both of your heads turn to Nam-Gyu, eyes wide like you both made the sound up. But when you and Thanos look over to him and catch Nam-Gyu’s eyes, his face is tinged red and he can’t even look at either of you.

“Dude o-oh my god! The fuck was that!!” Thanos says chuckling, leaning over you to playfully push at Nam-gyu’s shoulder. Nam-gyu hides his face, covering it with his ringed hands and huffing. “N-nothing! Shut up!!” Nam-Gyu says sitting up to try and get away from you two, he doesn’t even know what came over him. He just doesn’t want your attention to stray from him. It’s like a drug he craves. Normally he was good at sharing- he had to be for this situation between the three of you to continue the way it has, something today made him just need your attention; all of it. He was so needy.

You jump up and crawl on the bed so you’re situated between his legs. It takes so much strength to pry his hands off his face. You’re cooing at him, a sickly sweet smile on your face as you nudge his nose with yours to get him to open his eyes. Reluctantly, he meets your gaze, he’s blushing, fuck you have never EVER seen him like this.

You reach up, cupping either side of his face in your hands. “What’s up with you, baby?” You inquire. As you coddle him, Thanos slips behind Nam-gyu, resting back against the headboard of the bed, his legs spreading out on either side of Nam-gyu. The pout that forms on his face is so precious, his cheeks somewhat squished by your hands. “Nothin’s wrong…jus’ wanna touch you ‘n he’s taking you away from me.” Nam-gyu’s words are slurred by how you’re squishing his face. It feels so weird, so foreign to him. But all he can feel is need. An innate desire to have you just use him and take whatever you want from him.

Thanos sneakily wraps his arms around Nam-Gyu from the back, pulling him back onto his chest. Nam-gyu wants to turn around and scowl at Thanos but the way you follow him, crawling over his lap and straddling his legs has him in a trance. Thanos’ legs cage your thighs against Nam-gyu’s. You can’t help but bite your lip at the view of Thanos’ tattooed hands begin to bunch up Nam-Gyu’s shirt to reveal his pale skin. Your hands immediately run up Nam-gyu’s thighs, trailing to his stomach, letting out a small hum when you feel his stomach tense under your light touches.

“What’s got you so needy today?” You muse, leaning down so your breath fans over the skin of his stomach. Your eyes looking up at his flushed face, swollen lips parted as Nam-Gyu takes in breath after shuddering breath.

“F-fuck I don’t know.” Nam-gyu huffs, wiggling in Thanos grasp. “I-I just…” He’s frustrated, not even fully understanding why he felt the way he did. He and Thanos had always been the dominate two in your relationship, he had never had an issue with sharing. Hell, Choi Su-Bong was the only man Nam-gyu thought he could ever have a set up like this with. But he just needed you.

Needed your attention. Your praise. Your touch.

You watch as his eyes follow your fingers, dancing along his abdomen as you glare at him like a cheetah ready to pounce- that only makes him writhe against bed more. “‘S okay, baby…” you purr, grin only widening at his reaction to your words. Nam-gyu bites his bottom lip, hips canting off the bed as his aching cock searches for any sort of friction. “Imma take care of you, yeah? Make you feel reallllll good, like I always do.”

As you speak your fingers dance lower, tracing the dark patch of hair that runs to his waistband and disappears into the jeans. Nam-gyu’s head kicks back against Thanos’ shoulder, every touch feels like he might explode in his pants. Your fingers are just tracing circles around his pants button and he swears that sensation alone- you stroking the metal button and in turn, the underside of his cock.

“Mhm…yeah.” Nam-Gyu grunts out in a breathy tone, expecting you to get to work- take him into your warm, inviting mouth and let him lose himself in ecstasy. But he’s doesn’t feel the relief of his pants being unbuttoned or the cool room air hitting his throbbing cock- nope. Your hand pulls back from circling his button and he doesn’t feel you at all.

“Earn it.” Your grin stretches across your lips wickedly. Nam-gyu looks at you in disbelief, eyebrow arched like you’re speaking a foreign language. “W-what do you-“

His body jerks up off the bed when Thanos tattooed hand pinches at his nipple. Fuck he never thought he’d be into this shit, being at the mercy of both of you, but here he is- cock rock hard, becoming painful at this point, and only getting harder the longer he’s trapped between you and Thanos.

Your hand grips hardly at the bulge that is straining so hard against his jeans. “Beg for it.” You simply say, your head tilting to the side, grin widening. “Oh damn!” Thanos laughs, tattooed hands dancing along Nam-gyu’s chest, “Never seen this side of you, pretty.” Thanos eyes narrow mischievously, smile growing to match yours. His hands fall down to Nam-gyu’s hips, caging Nam-gyu impossibly closer, limiting his ability to writhe against your hand for more. In turn, pressing the whining males back against his own throbbing cock.

“A-ah fuck…that’s it…” Thanos hisses in a low growl, interrupting your next words, head rolling back when the pressure of Nam-Gyu eases the pain of the erection he has. Thanos never thought he’d see you- the girl they fucked to tears, the one always begging for them- in such a dominant position. And the feeling that bloomed inside of him when he was witnessing Nam-gyu turn into a pathetic mess under your touch is something Thanos thinks not even the best acid trip could replicate.

Nam-gyu tries to look between the two of you the best he can given his position. His heart is racing, his dick is painfully hard. “P-please.” Nam-gyu huffs out, eyebrows knitted together as the foreign word falls off his tongue. “F-fuck please… just fuckin’ take it out.” He whines, hips canting upwards against your hand.

Admittedly, you’re impatient and the thought of feeling his hard cock against your tongue excited you in ways you can’t describe. Your hand works at the button of his jeans, pulling down the golden zipper to reveal his grey boxers- already stained a darker grey right where his tip sits. You and Thanos let out similar mocking laughs, it’s almost shameful how worked up he is just by this little attention from you.

“So excited aren’t you baby~” you coo, a manicured nail tracing along the tip of his cock through his boxers, trailing your finger down the thick tent that’s formed. The moan that rips through Nam-gyu’s throat takes all of you off guard. It’s creaky, whiny, almost pleading as he bucks up into your hands. “You’re this hard just from her playing with you?” Thanos mocks, pinning his hips down, bringing Nam-gyu back against his own throbbing cock.

“I just… f-fuck ohmygod please I need your hand o-or mouth fuck! Anything!” Nam-gyu wants to bite back at Thanos words but his dark eyes are trained on you, head low, breath fanning against his hard on that visibly twitches under the cotton of his boxers. Thanos’ painted nails dip under the waist band of Nam-gyu’s boxers, pushing the fabric down. “I think we should at least let him out of this clothes, he’s so hard it probably hurts…” Thanos muses in a low voice, like he’s mocking Nam-gyu (and he is), eyes locking with yours over Nam-gyu’s shoulder.

You lift up a bit, assisting Thanos in removing Nam-gyu’s pants and boxers. The shuddering sigh Nam-gyu lets out as his hard cock slaps free against his abdomen makes your clit throb. “A-ah Fuck!” You watch as his body convulses when Thanos grips the base of his cock. Tattoos hands gripping the shaft as his eyes lock with yours. “Open up.”

With a devious grin and your eyes trailing back over to lock eyes with Nam-Gyu, your mouth drops open, tongue lolling out, sitting pretty and pink- so ready for him. Thanos slaps Nam-gyu’s hearty cock against your tongue, a wet plap plap plap sound resonates throughout the room. Each time Nam-Gyu’s cock connects with the warm, wet surface of your eager tongue he thinks he could come then and there. He doesn’t even know why he’s letting Thanos touch him like this- this wasn’t normal for him- but holt fuck did he like it. He liked being under the control of both of you and most importantly….

He had your undivided attention. Thanos was simply an aide right now, helping you pleasure him- your eyes were trained on him, your tongue was lapping at the head of his cock, you were doting on him and him alone. This is what he wanted.

“Hngghhh, oh fuck. S-so fuckin pretty like that.” Nam-gyu whines, hips bucking up into Thanos hand to rub even more of his cock on your tongue. You smile, lips pursing to press a languid kiss to the tip of his cock, tongue taking a moment to lap over the leaking slit. “Thank you, love.” You hum, batting your eyelashes. Your words are nearly drowned out by Nam-gyu’s whines that fall without abandon the moment he gets the briefest feeling of your mouth wrapped partially around him.

“Use your words. Tell her what you want.” Thanos says, voice gravely as he squeezes his hand just the slightest bit more, laughing to himself as Nam-gyu jolts off the bed at his movement. “I…” Nam-gyu’s head falls back against Thanos’ shoulder as he falls breathless, swallowing thickly as he tries to speak again. “I need y-your mouth. F-fuck pleaseeee.” He draws out the last syllable into a high creaky whine that has arousal soaking through your underwear.

He’s granted the solace of your mouth soon after he begs. Your lips wrap around the reddened tip, slowly taking him into your mouth. He wants to thrust down into your tight, warm, throat but Thanos keeps his hips pinned down, your hand replacing his as you begin to work it up and down Nam-gyu’s shaft. The room fills with the debauched sounds of your slurps and Nam-gyu’s whines.

You give him a show, pulling back every so often to spit messily down his cock before diving right back down to sink him deep into your throat. Nam-gyu thinks he’s seeing stars, his thighs tense and his toes curl as he cries out mixed babbles of your name and ‘more’.

Removing your hand from Nam-gyu’s cock, keeping your other hand planted on the bed for balance, you bring your hand to between your legs. Thankfully the shirt (really one of Thanos’) was the only thing you were wearing besides a pair of underwear. You push the thin fabric to the side. Your hands find your cunt, fingers massaging up and down your folds as you sink your mouth alllllll the way down Nam-gyu’s cock. Your eyes never leave Nam-gyu’s as he looks down at the show you’re giving him. “H-holy f-fuck…wanna fuck! Wanna feel how wet you are…” he whines, licking his lips at the thought of how wet you must be right now. Your poor cunt neglected and drooling. Fuck he needs your sweet cunt so bad. His mind is reeling with these thoughts, only serving to make him even harder.

“Yeahhh…you know she’s so fuckin’ wet. The slut loves to suck us off, I bet her pussy’s just dripping from choking on your cock.” Thanos muses, watching with a hawk like stare as you move up and down Nam-Gyu’s dick. “So fuckin’ messy, isn’t she?” The purple haired man adds, nudging the man seated in front of him to answer.

“Mhm… s-so holyfuck so fuckin messy, taking it all so well.” Nam-gyu gasps, his voice is wavering and high pitched, the sound makes your eyes flutter closed and moan around him. He can’t keep his eyes off the mess of spit that pours out from around your mouth and on the skin of his pelvis.

You sit up, pulling off his cock with a lewd ‘pop’. Nam-gyu opens his mouth to complain but doesn’t even have time to protest before your fingers are entering his mouth and his tongue is flooded with the all too familiar taste of you. He was right, you were wet, so fucking wet. Your fingers were covered in your arousal and he wasn’t going to let it go to waste. His lips wrap around your fingers and suck them into his mouth greedily, letting you push your fingers back into his mouth. Even as he gags around your fingers he doesn’t stop cleaning them, tongue swirling around the digits to get every last drop.

You can’t help but moan at the sight. He’s taking your fingers down his throat and locking eyes with you. His cock is resting hard against his abdomen, neglected and making a mess of his stomach. You pull your fingers out of his mouth and quickly move to wrap your lips around his thick cock once more.

You work yourself skillfully, taking all of him in despite the ache in your jaw. Your spit has all but coated his lower stomach but Nam-Gyu doesn’t care one bit. With every drag of your tongue along his cock he’s twitching pathetically against the bed.

“Tell her how good she’s making you feel.” Thanos rasps, thumbs running over Nam-gyu’s nipples as he rests back against Thanos’ chest.

Thanos’ words are nearly lost between the sounds of your debauched slurps and gags as you work your mouth up and down Nam-gyu’s cock. “F-fuck! S-so god damn good…best fuckin mouth.” Nam-gyu’s voice is high pitched, whiny almost, its music to your ears. It spurs you on, pulling back to spit on his cockhead.

Your wrist twists viciously, pumping up and down his thick length as your thumb collects the globs of pre-cum that leak continuously out of his slit. “Yeah?” You coo, leaning in to lock lips with him in a messy kiss. It’s full of spit, tongue and teeth. You can hear Nam-gyu pant into your mouth, shuddering each time you thumb at the crown of his cock- right under his throbbing cock head. “This what you needed baby? Jus’ needed to be taken care of?” Your words are slurred against his lips. Thanos growls at the visual in front of him, his two favorite people connected in the most filthy way.

Nam-Gyu nods frantically, letting out mixed gasps of you and Thanos name. The feeling of your mouth and hands working his cock to filth and Thanos’ fingers running up and down his torso, stoping every so often to pull at his nipples- it has him going insane. His thighs are jittering against the bed. Thanos reaches one hand up to grip at your chin and he pulls you into a sloppy kiss.

Nam-gyu doesn’t know why, normally the image would turn him on, something about watching you and Thanos make out always made his dick throb…. but now all he can think about is how your attention isn’t on him. He musters all the strength he can to pick his shaking hands up from the bed to grip at the back of your hair and yank you off of Thanos. You two pull away with a string of saliva connecting the two of you together, the shiny strand falling and cascading down your breasts.

Thanos is saying something, probably a retort or complaining about the kiss being ruined but you can’t hear him. Nam-gyu is maneuvering you back towards him, molding his lips with yours in a desperate kiss. His lips are practically twitching, soft moans and whines fill your mouth as each time your pillowy lips touch his, it sends violent electric shocks up Nam-gyu’s body. “S-so needy…” you muse through the kiss, trying to pull away to sink your mouth back on his cock, but he is chasing your lips so fervently.

You end up placing a hand to his throat, squeezing ever so gently as you push him back, the view of his eyes fluttering shut and his mouth agape is a straight up pornographic view that you know will replay in your head for days to come. Your eyebrow quirks up, your hand giving another experimental squeeze. Nam-gyu lets out a high pitched moan, one that’s so breathy you almost didn’t catch it.

“So you like getting choked, huh?” Thanos muses, punctuating his words by reaching down and beginning to jerk Nam-Gyu off. Nam-gyu winces, moaning put another choked mix of your names as his hips rut up into Thanos’ grasp. “Y’know we always call her a slut…but looks like you were just as much as one all along ‘Gyu~” Thanos teases, you get a front row view to the way Nam-gyu’s face contorts to try and bite out an insult but he can’t- not with the way you’re squeezing his throat and Thanos is pumping his cock.

Nam-gyu bites his lip, a choked breath catching in his throat but he doesn’t respond. Your grin widens, you catch Thanos eyes from where he’s sitting behind Nam-gyu. Both of you make the same movement, Thanos’ hand tightens around Nam-gyu’s cock and your hand squeezes harder at his throat. Leaning closer to Nam-gyu’s face, your lips centimeters away from his, you speak, “Answer him.”

Nam-gyu lets out a soft moan at your words, your tone something he hasn’t seen before- normally him and Thanos were the one breaking you! Never in his life did he think he’d end up here…his best friend jerking his cock while their shared girlfriend chokes him like a dominatrix. He leans forward to capture your lips once again, trying to make your dominance falter and not obeying you. It’s so hard to do with your hand holding his neck but he tries.

You laugh, it’s a cute attempt, you’ve never seen Nam-gyu so desprate. “What do you want sweet boy, ya gotta use your words..” You hum, leaning forward to spit down on his hefty cock, Nam-Gyu moans the most high pitched, creaky, downright sinful sound you’ve ever heard as he watches Thanos rub your spit up and down his cock. “F-fuck, w-wanna taste you princess, w-want you to sit on my- ohmygod- my face.”

Thanos chuckles, the sound of his best friend being so desperate makes his cock throb painfully. Thanos knows that if Nam-gyu is eating you out, your pretty little mouth would be all for him to use- the thought makes him move so fast. He lets out a small huff and releases Nam-gyu’s cock, moving out from behind him and helping to lower his fucked out form to the pillows. You look to Thanos, a scowl on your face, you wanted to make him beg more!

“Easy, give the man what he deserves…” Thanos says looking at you, an almost challenging look in his eyes. “We treat you so good, no? You get a little bit of dominance and it gets to your head?” Thanos says shuffling on the bed to wrap his hands in your hair and pull you to him. His teeth are gritted, you may be in charge or Nam-gyu but you sure as hell weren’t the most dominant one here, he would remind you of that. “‘Gyu has an issue that needs to be fixed… he was good and followed your directions, right?” You nod.

Nam-gyu tightens his grip on your thighs, rutting his hard cock up into your clothed heat. Your attention was not on him! “Fuck please!” He whines, pulling at your hips to try and slid you up his body to where he needed you. Thanos’ head turns towards Nam-Gyu, scowling at him the same way he was looking at you. “Patience. Not about to have two fucking brats here.” Thanos seethes.

Nam-gyu feels his heart and his cock jump. Is this how you feel when they ruin you? Do you get the same rush of adrenaline when they degrade you with words that verge on the tone of threatening?? If it is, fuck, he needs to have it happen more often. Nam-gyu bites his lip and nods, eyes twisting shut as he thrusts his hips back and forth, dragging his clothed cock along the warmth of your covered pussy.

“..be a good girl…” Thanos scoffs, at least Nam-gyu listened quickly, unlike you most times. He punctuates his words by tightening his grip on your hair, “..and give the needy thing what he wants.” Thanos growls, tilting his head towards Nam-gyu. You swallow, mind flipping between being a brat and obeying Thanos and giving Nam-Gyu what he wants.

But you have never seen Nam-gyu like this, you’ve never heard his voice crack, you’ve never seen him beg. So you stuff down the want to tease and test Thanos and hurriedly rid yourself of soaked lace panties you had pulled to the side. When you crawl your way up Nam-gyu’s bare chest and place your dripping cunt over his face, your thighs caging in his head his eyes are rolling back into his skull. His hands find purchase on your hips, pulling you down to his mouth with so much fervor you have no time to react.

He whines into your cunt, tongue flattening to cover the entire expanse of your pussy, covering each and everything of his tastebuds with the scribe taste of you. He doesn’t know why but he feels like he could cry, god the feeling of your pussy on his tongue was diving him mad, so soft, so sweet. “So- fuck- so god damn good…so wet.” Nam-gyu laps at your cunt, his words slurred and muffled. He pulls back to spit up at your cunt, immediately pulling you back down onto his mouth to slurp up his mess.

Your hands fly to his hair, pulling his face deeper into your pussy. He’s relentless, eating you like a man on death row who was presented his last meal. Nam-gyu’s hands tighten on your hips, the grip almost bruising as he begins to rock you back and forth over his tongue. He’s shameless, really, whining and whimpering into your sopping heat as he greedily slurps down everything you have to offer.

“Mmh…f-fuck so good…mpphh…th-thankyouthankyou…” Nam-gyu babbles below you, his voice high and whiny as you rut against his face. He places kiss after kiss on your needy clit like he’s worshiping you- and he is. You keel over, hand grasping at the headboard to keep yourself upright. He’s truly not giving you a moment to breathe, wriggling his hot tongue into the depths of your soaking walls to carve the shape of the muscle into you. His needy whines, nearing sobs now, make your mind fuzzy.

“He likes eating you out that much?” Thanos chides with a mocking laugh, you’re brought out of your pleasure induced haze. “H-huh??” You muse, blissfully confused as you rock your hips down onto Nam-gyu’s nose. You can hardly form words, your free hand grasping at Nam-gyu’s hair in a damn near painful grip. Anytime a moan falls from your lips the efforts of the man below you become more fervent, your moans only making Nam-gyu slurp harder at your cunt.

Thanos lets out a boisterous laugh seeing your disheveled state. “Not much of a dom if you’re so fucked out by him jus’ eating your pussy.” His words make your tummy burn with even more heat, your eyebrows furrow as you tried to glare at him, trying to make yourself seem more about it…but it’s so hard when Nam-gyu sucks your clit into his mouth, lips wrapping around the bud as his tongue lolls around it lazily.

The large, tattooed rapper doesn’t give you the time of day to prove your dominance. Why would he? He knows exactly how to make you melt and break with just a single move of his thick finger- any attempt at being the dominant one would be shattered just by him staring at you with his dark, hungry, stare. “Fucking look.” He hisses, gripping at your chin to move your gaze over your shoulder.

“The slut can’t even help himself..” Thanos rasps, his words nearly a growl as he places his face close to yours, his words swimming through your ears like some new street drug. “Humping the air like a dog while he eats your cunt.”

A white hot bolt of pleasure shoots through your body as Nam-Gyu moans into your pussy, the vibrations going right to your clit and only adding to the growing heat deep in your stomach. The view is so sinful you think you might just pass out by looking at it. Nam-gyu’s hips jerk up into the air, thick cock jumping against his stomach, leaking all over the dark patch of hair that’s along his pelvis. You have never seen him like this and now you’re sure it’s now one of your favorite views ever.

“And listen to him…” Thanos muses, lips tickling your ear as he lowers his head, teeth grazing at the column of your neck, “needy fuckin’ thing he is…he’s prolly’ crying into your pussy…” You whimper at the idea, Nam-Gyu broken under you, sobbing from the pleasure that he gets from solely eating you out.

It seems like Thanos words don’t only affect you, they affect Nam-gyu. He whines into your cunt, hips jutting upwards. Every needy, wanton moan is muffled by your slick pussy but you can hear they way, between slurps, how the moans only increase in volume- become more creaky- like every mouthful of your arousal is his life essence.

You feel a hand thread in your hair, pulling your face back forward. You’re met with none other than Su-bong grinning down at you, fisting his leaking cock millimeters from your face. “C’mon pretty, ain’t no way he’s ate your pussy so good your mouth is useless…” His voice is low, mocking, punctuated by his hand tightening his hand on your hair.

“S-shut the fuck- oh my god you’re so wet.” Nam-gyu can’t even finish his retort to Thanos before he’s lifting his head back up the slightest bit to slurrppp at a thick glob of your arousal that leaks from your cunt. “Shu-shut the fuck up, ‘m eating her out good.” Nam-gyu whines, looking up at Thanos with a pout on his face. “Tell me ‘m making you feel good, p-please.” Dark eyes dart back up to you, majority of his face shrouded by your thighs, pleading with you to praise his efforts.

You nod, chest heaving and nearly crying from pleasure yourself as you answer, “M-mhm, soo good, jus’ like that baby.” You praise, locking your eyes with his. At your words, his eyes roll back into your head and he slurps at your cunt, lips wrapping around your clit to suck it into his mouth. Nam-gyu is eating you out like it’s the last meal he’d ever get. It’s fucking mind numbing, tongue tracing every fold before shifting you up to push into your walls, hands rocking your hips back and forth over his nose as his tongue fucks into you- tasting every drop of arousal.

You’re brought back to earth by a harsh tug in your hair, twisting your head to look to the side. Face to face with Thanos leaking cock, you lick your lips, mouth dropping open as you eagerly take his dick. “That’s it pretty girl…” He rasps, hands pushing your head down along his shaft, wasting no time in sliding his cock into your throat, “alllll the way down, jus’ like that…” he muses, blown out eyes locked on you, watching you take all of him down your throat.

With Nam-gyu working fervently at your cunt, you’re moaning around Thanos cock immediately between the small gags that are muffled around his girth. The tattooed hand in your hair works you up and down his cock relentlessly- he knows you can take it all - he’s seen you take it all, he’s not wasting anytime. His head falls back, Adam’s apple bobbing as he lets out a deep, guttural, groan. “G-good f-fuckin girl.” Thanos praises, fingers scratching lightly at your scalp as if in a reward.

Nam-gyu doesn’t like that your attention isn’t on him. Sure he knows how to share…all of you have been doing it for years…but, right now he wants all of your attention. All of you.

He has no decision but to work harder. His hands lift you up the slightest bit, deft fingers circling your puffy cunt and collecting your arousal. The stretch of two ringed fingers fucking themselves into you has you surging forward and crying around Thanos’ cock. Nam-gyu knows your body, he’s always been attentive and observant so it makes sense that his fingers are immediately abusing that gummy spot deep inside you that has you seeing stars.

Nam-gyu is transfixed on your cunt, eyes watching as his fingers disappear into your sopping walls and reappear covered in your juices. He’s eaten you out so fervently that your folds are puffy and raw- yet he can see the way your cunt greedily sucks his fingers in. He’s lifting his head up, lips finding your clit once again as his tongue flicks at the sensitive bud. His hips are bucking wildly into the air, grinding his cock against his own stomach, a mess of precum smeared over his abdomen and staining the shirt he still had on.

“Soooo fuckinnngg goooddd~” the words are slurred against your cunt, sending vibrations throughout your pussy. You’re practically sobbing around Thanos’ cock, eyes rolling so far back you’re sure you’d be seeing your skull soon. The feeling of Nam-gyu slurping at your cunt and Thanos using your mouth, grinning down at you with that pleased smirk- it’s mind numbing.

You have to ground yourself. Your hands release themselves from Nam-Gyu’s hair to steady them on Thanos’ thighs, allowing you to take him more, tongue working eagerly at the underside of his cock. “Fuck yeah, such a good fuckin’ cock sucker ain’t ya?” Thanos praises, hand holding your hair in a makeshift ponytail as you work yourself up and down his cock.

The second Nam-Gyu feels your hands release themselves from his hair. He’s realize he’s shared enough for the night. He needs you fully. He can’t even explain the feeling that’s come over him but he needs all of you, he needs your undivided attention as if it’s the air he needs to live. He’s whining pathetically into your cunt, fingers working harder as he fucks them deeper into your tight cunt.

He hears you cry around Thanos’ cock, watching as one of your hands pulls away from his thigh and sits in the air like you’re tying to decide where to hold onto to keep yourself upright- Thanos’ thigh or Nam-gyu’s hair. Your hand moves back to Thanos’ thighs, using them to stabilize yourself as you work harder at his dick, taking him until your nose presses against the trail of hair at the base of his cock.

Not what he wants.

Nam-gyu groans in annoyance, lips sucking at your clit harder, tongue abusing your little clit. But you’re still not focused on him. Sure, you’re moaning at how good he’s making you feel, you’re grinding eagerly into his hand and mouth wanting more- but it’s not enough.

You were far too cock drunk to even realize what Nam-gyu was doing before it’s too late. He’s gripping at your hips and dragging you down his face, his torso. The position is awkward, Thanos has to move with you but you’re still sucking him off.

“Pay attention to me.” Nam-gyu whines. You pull off Thanos’ cock, hands moving to stroke his shaft while you look confused towards Nam-gyu. Is this not what he wanted?

You got your answer soon enough. He was enjoying this. This is exactly what he wanted. He just needed more. More of you.

With skilled, practiced movement he’s planting his feet on the bed and moving you down over his lap and lining his aching cock up with your pussy. He doesn’t wait before he’s sinking you all the way down onto his thick cock. Your cunt sucks him in greedily, stretching around him in the most delicious way. “F-fuck! N-nam-gyu!” Your hands have no option but to pull away from Thanos and plant themselves on Nam-gyu’s chest.

That’s it. There you are.

When Nam-gyu makes eye contact and sees your fucked out expression, lips puffy and raw from sucking thanos off, hands gripping at the fabric of his shirt that was stained with your wetness- he thinks he might just blow his load then and there. His hands grip onto your hips almost painfully.

He doesn’t work his way up to a brutal pace, oh no….he’s waited far too long for that. With his feet planted on the mattress he jackhammers his hips up into you. Each thrust bullies his cock into your cunt, echoed by the sound of skin slapping. A squeal comes from your lips as you fall back the slightest bit, hands coming to find purchase on his knees.

Each thrust jolts you upwards, giving Nam-Gyu a perfect view of your tits bouncing. The way your cunt grips him, like he’s being sucked in has his mind melting. Fuck, you always felt so good. “So fuckin’ tight. Taking me so fucking well, yeah? Tell me you like it, fuck please…tell me I’m doin good…” Nam-gyu rambles, each word is cut off by a heavy breath, a moan, a grunt- he’s practically incoherent. He’s whining. Pleading with you to give him some kind of praise.

“Uh-huh..” you babble breathlessly, one hand moving on its own to reach up and jerk off Thanos- you didn’t want to leave him out for too long, “s-so fucking good!” You cry out. It’s not enough for Nam-Gyu, he wants to take your praise to heart but he can’t focus when your one hand is not on him.

He doesn’t have all of you.

Your eyes, once screwed shut, rip themselves open when you feel Nam-gyu grab your wrist, guiding your hand up down back to him. He presses your palm down on his abdomen and trails it upwards. He guides you to caress his throat- fingers dancing along his Adam’s apple before he brings your hand to his face- nuzzling his cheek into your palm.

“N-need all of you.” He whines, teeth nipping at the skin of your palm. “H-he can get himself off.” Nam-Gyu spits, eyes darting over to Thanos. “T-touch me please….fuck I need it…” He says, his voice a pathetic tone that has you gushing around his thick cock that he grinds up into you.

Thanos wants to be angry, he wants to call Nam-Gyu out for being selfish and greedy- but truly the scene before him was one of the hottest he’s ever seen. He could easily get himself off. He scoffs and grips his cock shuffling closer to jerk himself off over your tits that bounce with the every one of Nam-gyu’s thrusts.

You turn your attention to Nam-gyu, this time fully, with one hand being held by him near his cheek you take your other hand and trail it up and down his torso, feeling each muscle tighten under your touch. “S-so fuckin’ pretty. F-fuck! Jus’ use me, fucking use me.” He pleads, fingernails biting crescent moon shapes into the plush of your hips. Gathering your strength you being to ride him, lifting your hips and slamming them back down.

“That’s it, f-fuck yes feels so fuckin good. Ride me jus’ like that.” He praises, abs tensing as you roll your hips in devious patterns that make him think your part succubus. “Oh fuck ‘m gonna cum.” Nam-gyu whines, eyes screwing shut and head tilting heavenward as he tries to hold on as long as he can- he doesn’t want this to end.

“Make a mess of him sweetheart.” Thanos urges, making you continue to ride Nam-gyu with reckless abandon despite the burning in your thighs. “Pretty pussy of yours gonna make him cum quick.”

Nam-gyu lets out a shuddering breath, one hand reaching between the two of you to thumb circles on your clit. Both of you let out high pitched moans. As he thumbs at your clit he can feel the way you tighten and twitch around him. “O-oh my f-fucking god.” He says, breathless in a sentence that was part laugh part gasp.

You’re close too. Admittedly, teasing Nam-Gyu and seeing this new side of him, seeing him so needy has had you worked up more than you cared to admit. And despite how sloppy his thrusts had become, every time you drive your hips down to meet his thrusts, the tip of his cock presses right against that sweet spot that has your body beginning to bloom with warmth.

“You gonna c-cum?” Nam-gyu looks up at you eyebrows upturned. It’s like he’s begging for you to cum, begging for the feeling of your cunt squeezing his dick like a fluttering vice. You can only nod and let out a breathless ‘uh-huh’, your eyes flicking between the sweet view of Nam-Gyu under you, fucked out and eyes watering and then towards Thanos- lip caught between his teeth as his hand furiously works against his dick.

Normally he wouldn’t be content with just himself, just his own hand. But the way Nam-Gyu is practically sobbing your name, letting out babbled praises of your cunt like it’s a nirvana he keeps driving into with each thrust and the way you are fucking him to tears- the man he normally dominates you with- diminished to a whining mess. Oh yeah. It’s his personal porn. He loves it. “You’re fuckin’ him stupid, ridin’ him so good.” Thanos mumbles as your eyes connect.

“F-fuck no. E-eyes on me. Wanna see your face when you cum.” Nam-gyu says through gritted teeth, a shaky hand reaching up to grab your chin and force you to look at him. “I’m so close, p-pretty. Wanna cum inside s-so fuckin bad, pleaseeee.” The last word is drawn out, syllables jolting with the violent upwards thrust of his cock into your sopping heat.

“Yes! I-inside!” It’s a broken plea, but it’s all he needs before he’s sobbing out your name, head kicking back on the pillows as he fucks into you with reckless abandon. Nam-gyu’s thumb works overtime at your clit, spreading the mess of your arousal around the puffy bud. “G-gonna f-fill you up, ohmygod, so fuckin good for me. Fuck thankyouthankyouthankyou.” Slurred words fall from his lips in nearly incoherent whines as he cums.

You can feel every thick rope of his cum fill you up, coating your insides and leaving his mark for anyone else who would dare to fuck you other than him or Thanos (not that you would ever- you love them too much). It’s so much that it seeps out of you, puddling at the base of his dick and creating thick white strings every time you lift yourself back up and down to fuck him through his orgasm.

The sinful visual that plays in front of Thanos and his hand working his aching cock sends him over the edge soon after Nam-Gyu cums. The warmth of his release hits your chest, marking you in a warm sticky web of white. His head is tipped back towards the ceiling, strings of expletives falling from his lips as he milks himself for every last drop he has, savoring the feeling and the visual of the image before him.

Of course, you can’t hold on either- you cum in succession with the two males. It hits you hard, lighting up your body in a white hot heat. “Y-yeah that’s it, fuck yes, cum all over this fuckin’ cock.. need to feel you fuck, please.” Nam-gyu nearly sobs, hands gripping at the plush fat of your hips to slam you down his cock. Your release gushes out of you, making even more of a mess between the two of you, a slick schlick schlick schlick sound echos as Nam-Gyu tries his best to fuck you through your orgasm despite his own overstimulation.

Your body vibrates, “Oh fuck!!”, it’s a broken cry as you ride out your orgasm, chest heaving. When you come down, breath evening out, you look down at Nam-Gyu then over to Thanos. Thanos chuckles breathlessly, the hand that wasn’t jerking himself off reaches up to brush your hair that was matted to your face with sweat. “He fuck you good, sweets?”

You laugh, nodding and letting out a tired ‘mhm’. Nam-Gyu lets out a sigh that shifts into a soft chuckle, hand coming to slap your ass in praise for your work. “Fuck….” He breathes, “thank you, pretty.” His dark eyes turn back down towards you. Nam-gyu’s hands run up your ass to find purchase on the small of your back, pulling you forward.

You squeal and place your hands on his chest, trying to fight his pull of you into him. “I’m all covered in cum! C’mon let me shower first and then we can cuddle.” You protest. It’s for nothing, Nam-Gyu is much stronger than you and pulls you down into his chest with ease. You can feel the mess of Thanos’ cum on your chest smear between you and Nam-gyu as you’re laid on top of him, back arched as you lay down fully.

“When has being covered in cum ever been a problem?” Nam-gyu says placing soft kisses on your shoulder. “Plus, it only makes sense to shower after we’re done.” Thanos says, shifting on the bed- you can feel him but can’t see him.

“H-huh?” You ask confused, you guys definitely all just finished. Jokes on you for ever thinking they be satiated with just one release.

Large tattooed hands palm at the globes of your ass, pushing up and spreading you wide for him, “S-Subong!” The surprise movement taking you so off guard that his real name falls from your lips. You can hear a chuckle reverberate from behind you.

Thanos watches as Nam-gyu’s release drips out of you into thick, creamy white globs. He can’t help himself, he’s burring his face into your cunt, tongue diving deep and lapping at Nam-gyu’s cum that coats your insides. You jolt against Nam-Gyu who only chuckles in your ear and tightens his grip, holding you still for the purple haired man.

“Oh we’re far from done. ‘Gyu here was fuckin’ selfish and I’m getting my fill of you.”

Hi loves 🥺🥺🥺 missed you guys!!! I hope you guys enjoy this again I am SOOOOOO sorry for being inactive. I’m still writing for squid games and working (very slowly) through requests.

Thank you guys for your continued support even with my inactivity. It literally means the world and is the reason I have the willpower to comeback and write!!! Love yall !! - <3 kiwi

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yanderemommabean · 1 year ago

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Hey Beans-

Hey beans, I have a bit of a hellish update.

Yesterday was one of the worst days of my life. My grandma made a huge fight happen while I was on call with a friend, and things just escalated between me and her so badly I had to leave. When I came back home, my family was also on my ass about it all, despite knowing how she lies and how she instigates.

She threatened to hit me, she threatened to kill Sammy, she hurled insult after insult at me and this all started because I didn't get up in time to do something she asked (Which was locking the door. I waited three seconds too long and she went off).

When I came back after trying to let things cool down I was berated and told I had no right to be so “selfish” in the house, so on and so on, and the fight got so intense I had to just physically walk away, leaving the home and going two miles up the road because I did not feel safe.

They made me so sick I began to pee blood again, as well as my sugar spiking and causing me to have palpitations. My heart cannot take this stress anymore, and neither can my mental health. I wish I could explain how bad the situation was. I had tears down my face, gasping for air, chest heaving and in pain, I felt like I was on the verge of passing out.

I got in contact with some good friends of mine, who say they can help get me out of not only that home, but the entire state i'm in. But I need money to do so, for travel and gas and so on. As much as they can house me, they need me to pull my weight.

I hate having to ask for help, I hate that I'm even in this situation, to the point I'm so sick I might have to be seen in the ER or sent to ICU.

I need to come up with 700 dollars, and I'm willing to do some commissions, but with how sick I am I may take a bit to get back with you. I plan to leave by early June, if not the beginning of July, as that's when my friends are able to drive down and get me.

Donations are greatly appreciated, even if you can only afford a single dollar, it’ll be more help than you know.

If you’re wanting a commission, please don't send money and then ask, for your sake and mine. I’m incredibly overwhelmed, and I’ll do my best to get with you and explain rates.

And if you’re willing to donate anything, here’s my Ko-fi link.

Again, I can’t thank you enough for if you donate or even spread this post around, even well wishes mean the world to me because I know you beans care and want to help however you can.

This post was incredibly hard to make, I’m still all over the place and trying to figure everything out, so I apologize if this sounds like rambling and nonsense. There is a silver lining however, as I actually have a way out this time, and I pray I can get out before things can get worse.

-Mommabean

#mommabean #personal #ok to reblog #ok to interact #ok to comment #signal boost #mutual aid #writing commission

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twstedreamweaver · 10 months ago

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Showering HCs with the Twisted Wonderland Boys

What it's like to shower with the guys ~

Characters Featured: Heartslabyul (Riddle, Trey, Deuce), Savanaclaw (Ruggie, Jack), Octavinelle (Floyd, Azul), Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia (Sebek, Silver) Missing some of the guys because I just couldn't come up with anything CW: g/n reader, fluff, SFW but some minor suggestive content, some crack, established romantic relationship with reader

The More-or-Less 'Normal' Showerers

Has a strict routine in the shower but likes showering alongside you. They'll be quiet, just enjoying your presence. You'll notice how much they seem to relax, and the water just completely washes their worries and stress away. They insist on washing themselves, unless you really beg, which they will finally relent (they greatly enjoy this, they just prioritize being of service to you). Showering with you is one of their favorite parts of the day. Very susceptible to teasing. Water is on the warmer side.

Riddle, Jamil

Sets the water to your preferred temperature. Your shower routine together is pretty run-of-the-mill, but sweet, nonetheless. He is particularly fond of talking to you in the shower as you both get ready for the day. He cherishes these little intimate conversations you have as you go about your separate routines. Always happy to wash you if you ask or look like you need help. While he does enjoy showering with you, he doesn't mind showering alone.

Silver does occasionally fall asleep mid-shower, so do be prepared to catch him.

Trey, Silver

Greatly enjoys showering with you. He especially loves washing your hair and body. Enjoys it immensely when you wash him. He will get soap in your eyes (unintentionally and to his great dismay) and will have to be taught how to properly wash your hair, etc., but he is a willing learner and very enthusiastic. Prefers his showers on the hot side.

For Kalim, he takes very long showers classic rich kid behavior. I also feel like he has servants do a lot of things for him, so he might not even know how to do skincare/haircare, etc.

For Epel and Deuce, they take shorter showers due to his upbringing.

Kalim, Epel, Deuce

Mostly showers alone but will agree to shower with you if you ask him very nicely. Whenever you shower at anything that's NOT a lukewarm temperature, he will Insist that the water is actively harming your hair and skin and forcefully change the temperature on you. Has a strict routine that you are not to disrupt. Always enthusiastically helps you with your haircare and skincare.

"Did you wish to boil to death in this shower!?"

Vil

Will steal use your hair products. He also shampoos and conditions his ears and tail. If you ask to wash them for him, he will begrudgingly allow you to, but only in exchange for something. This whole "Fine. If it'll getcha to stop botherin' me-" is entirely a show on his end though, he loves having his ears touched. The tsundere in him will admit it with enough teasing. Accustomed to short showers as force of habit but will abuse the hell out of free hot water whenever he gets the chance.

Ruggie

He takes showers very differently when alone versus when showering with you. Normally, his showers are cold and efficient, wasting no time in getting on with his day.

However, with you, he likes to take his time. He places great importance on the acts of washing you and you washing him. He gets really happy when you wash tail and ears and will gruffly admit that he enjoys it while his tail is fervently wagging (to his chagrin). Social grooming between partners is an important ritual for wolves and Jack is no different.

He will subconsciously lick or gently nibble you sometimes, and when he notices, he'll get very embarrassed and apologize. If you reciprocate, he will be ecstatic.

Jack

The Nervous Wrecks

Finds showering with you (at first) mortifying. Eventually, once he understands that you are not judging him, he will enjoy the intimacy immensely.

He is very self-conscious of his body, so you'll need to seriously support and assure him that he's attractive, as he'll feel very vulnerable and will take a while to gain the confidence to shower 'normally'. Also, doesn't really know how to wash another person, so you'll have to show him. Before getting more used to showering with another person, he'll get embarrassed by any physical contact and tries to avoid looking at you entirely (he fails at this every time).

In Azul's case, he'll stay in human form for ease. Uses expensive hair products but knows very little about haircare due to never needing it in the Coral Sea (he's canonically a big cologne enjoyer, so he probably prioritizes scent).

For Idia, his hair is waterproof and doesn't need to be washed in the standard sense (source: just trust me bro). His hair can be brushed, but brushing doesn't do much and it never tangles anyway. Contrary to popular opinion, doesn't bring his phone in the shower (unless he's grinding out daily's and is running out of time); he's too busy trying to NOT focus on you. Also, you will have to remind him to take a shower, as he routinely forgets to take care of himself.

Azul, Idia

Would accidentally set the water too hot, burning you, resulting in him freaking out, apologizing, and punching the showerhead. Tries to rescue you and will carry you out of the shower like you're dying. You will have to repeatedly reassure him that you're fine. After getting that first experience out of the way, will insist on helping you every time you look like you're struggling (which is rarely, he is totally making this up as an excuse to wash your hair).

"Human! Your feeble arms cannot reach your back! I will wash it for you! No, this is NOT because I want to!"

Sebek

Very similar to Epel and Kalim, but more nervous and easily embarrassed. Very enthusiastic to help you in the shower, but also totally clueless. Knows very little about feminine hygiene or products, so keep that in mind if you use those. But he's eager to learn about your haircare or skincare routines and help you! He will look up WikiHow tutorials.

Easily flustered if you tease him or say something positive about his body. Will flex (in)discreetly and try to not sneakily at all get you to compliment him. He's not egocentric, he just likes being appreciated and little comments make his whole day.

Deuce

The Weirdos (affectionate)

Doesn't like showers, but will happily take baths with you, although he'll likely get bored fast. He will want to bathe in his eel form, which can be problematic in a small (or even large) bathtub. Also, he likes really cold, like arctic-level water. If you complain, he will just squeeze you and say that he can warm you up. Definitely the type to get handsy and also will probably try to drag you into the ocean to swim with him when he gets antsy.

He loves when you wash him. He finds it endearing, his Shrimpy acting like a little cleaner shrimp.

Like Azul, doesn't know much about haircare or skincare and doesn't really care either. He uses 5-in-1 a decent shampoo and conditioner actually. What can I say, he's an enigma (it's probably Jade's doing).

Floyd

Adores showering with you, but unlike the others, he doesn't enjoy showering for the conversations or the act of washing you, although he does enjoy the latter - no, he just relishes in the simple act of 'observing' staring at you.

You will get used to it after a while, but at first, it's a bit weird to watch him so intently observing you engaging in mundane activities like rinsing your hair.

If you say something or shoot him a strange look, he'll say something equal parts creepy and romantic.

Also, heavily emphasizes the importance of proper haircare and will make sure you use good products.

"Hmm? You want me to look away, mon cheri? No? You simply wish to know why? Ha ha! Would you scorn a blind man for accepting the gift of sight? No? Then you understand that asking me to avert my gaze from your ethereal beauté is akin to supplice!" who does this guy think he is

Rook

I will finish the hcs with all the guys when my brain decides to work.

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thedeskofaltoclef · 5 months ago

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How I became The Desk of Alto Clef.

My response to a SCP Group designed around Hate and Bigotry who have targeted me and others in this community.

Nah, man, my daughter is dead.

It has been brought to my attention that there is a group of people on the internet who are fascinated with my fascination of Alto Clef and Meri. Hurtful and yet cute in a way so I think now I'll choose this time and these screen grabs from their discord to explain how I came to be 'The Desk of Alto Clef'.

My Daughter died six years ago and it sent me spiraling deep into the bottom of whatever bottle I could find.

I was completely prepared to take my own life and even had the things to 'finish the job' because my life had no meaning at that point. What was another statistic going to matter anyways, right?

It was in one of these dark, drunk moments with a gun when I fell across the Volgun's video on 'reality benders and you' and fell into a rabbit hole.

Drunkenly I fumbled around the wiki and learned more about this broken man known as Alto Clef.

A man whom I could relate to in my own way. A man who, no matter what he did, could never see his daughter as I will never be able to see mine. So thus, I became a very, very shitty cosplayer.

I like to believe that over the past four years my acting ability has increased to a sustainable level and as much as I joke about things I do try to stay humble about it. Though I like to think I've become better but I digress.

I love the lore of Clef and Meri, on or offsite, to the point that I am weird about it I know, but that's how I stay connected to my daughter. Writing the Deskverse is how I stay connected to my daughter.

I am also autistic which causes me to hyper fixate on Clef as a coping mechanism.

Because of this group of people I have greatly considered leaving the community and going back to my own personal solitude. Acting, Voice Acting, Cosplaying as Clef gave and still gives me something to live for again. I may not be this group's cup of tea but I do like to believe that I have helped others. My main goal has always been to uplift those who need uplifting. I do not want anyone to ever feel how I felt in my lowest and darkest moments.

The main story in the deskverse is about a father and a daughter torn apart by the actions of an abusive mother. My real life story.

I also have ZERO clue as to why I am being involved with misogyny or yuri things. If I have offended you in any way I do apologize.

I do not plan on posting the more 'suggestive' or 'lewd' responses they have made. Overly sexualized content does make me extremely uncomfortable.

This group of people have broken my heart into pieces. Seeing this list of images and names dragging me through the mud has already smashed my unstable self-esteem as it is.

At this time I do not plan on releasing any names associated with all of this because I am honestly tired of reliving the most horrid event of my life over and over because I, for whatever reason, do not fit what this group feels is acceptable of an actor/writer/fan.

I cannot say the same for the others in which they were assaulting.

In summary Alto Clef is an outlet for the pain I live with every day. I can never see, hold, hear, smell, or speak to my daughter. I have scars on my body from her mother that will never allow me to forget that life I had. I will always remember the taste of gunpowder but thankfully my drunk ass was too weak. If your going to be bad at something, be bad at that I suppose.

I will leave all of this with a final image from the copious list and the one that honestly hurts me the most. I am honestly a shy and reserved person and frankly it takes a lot for me to get out of my comfort zone. Not long ago I went to another SCP discord server because I wanted to meet new people and someone in there was awesome. I truly enjoyed my time with this person and just found them amazing. They were kind, open, willing to listen to my ideas, and gushed over Numberonedoggo. I thought I had finally made a new friend on my own. I was apparently wrong.

Art, from some of my favorite artists, was made for the sole reason of mocking me specifically. To laugh at me for finding joy in something that gives me purpose. Something I use to drive away the darkness.

No age, disorder, illness, or reason at all can be acceptable for anyone to act in this way. You are all a mockery of everything the SCP community should stand for.

-TheDesk

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juricel · 3 months ago

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yandere shadow milk x reader who's associated with pure vanilla? like an assistant or something?

thank youuu :3

a/n: apologies for the late reply! i didn't know what to do with this request and also because im in the hospital rn and recovering ^^; i'm supposed to rest but i wanted to write...

— yandere! shadow milk cookie x assistant! reader

໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა ۪ ׂ CONTENT WARNING: surprisingly not much content warning, yanderes, heavy possessive and obssessive behavior, unhealthy relationship, implied forced established relationship, mentioned mindbreak, implied physical and emotional abuse, potential ooc.

𖦁 one of the knowledge that came greatly with being the assistant of pure vanilla cookie was one thing: the understanding of shadow milk cookie's wickedness. and with that knowledge came an inevitability—you would loathe him, despise him with every trembling fiber of your being. after all, how could you not, when he had inflicted upon your master a harm so insidious, so inhumane, that no visible wound could ever hope to rival it? his cruelty did not leave mere scars—it sculpted abysses in the soul, chasms of sorrow where light once dwelled.

𖦁 how faithful you were, a devoted shadow bound to your master’s light! for centuries, you trailed along pure vanilla cookie steps, as if orbiting him like a planet to its sun. and so, when he entered the spire, you followed after him—of course you did. shadow milk cookie was not surprised. no, he had long accounted for you, your loyalty, your inevitable arrival. you were as predictable as nightfall, as moths to flame, as a lamb led blindly to slaughter— just as he had planned. however, what gnawed at him, what curled like smoke in the marrow of his thoughts, was your devotion. what was so good about pure vanilla cookie? he didn't get you, nothing really was so brilliant about him. a brittle thing, so easy to prod and bend until he broke just right; that was one thing, yet, you—you—clung to him with such reverence, such maddening admiration for something else he could not see. for what? for who? what did he have that shadow milk did not? what pathetic, insipid warmth kept you so leashed to him? he could offer you so much more—more safety, more knowledge, more entertainment. he could carve out a space for you in his world, shield you from the soft, saccharine delusions you clung to so desperately. and yet, you still shied from him, still turned to that weak, flickering light. It almost made him laugh. almost. but laughter was for amusement, and he wasn't fond of this one.

𖦁 you should be /his/ instead. his dear, devoted follower, his ever-adoring shadow. why waste yourself on him—that brittle, trembling thing—when shadow milk could offer you so much more? oh, he would give you wonders, spectacles of illusion spun just for you, laughter so sweet it would rot you from the inside out. entertainment, delight, deceit. and surely, in time, you would learn. learn to savor the moment a mind snaps, to take fulfillment in the fragile shattering of conviction, in the exquisite collapse of sanity. it would be beautiful. it would be yours. you only had to let go of that fragile, flickering light, that feeble thing who could never keep you safe, him, who never understand you the way he could. pure vanilla cookie, with his trembling kindness and hollow reassurances, would never give you what you needed. not like shadow milk. no, never like shadow milk. he could strip away the illusions you clung to, peel back the layers of your mind until you saw the world for what it truly was—raw, malleable, his. he would guide you, shape you, cradle your thoughts in his hands until they became something beautiful. and oh, how beautiful you would be. how exquisite, how perfect once you learned to listen, to see, to believe. to hear the delicate, symphonic crack of another’s breaking mind and finally, finally understand the pleasure in it. he would teach you. he would love you. and one day, you would look at him not with fear, not with resistance, but with devotion.

𖦁 it’ll be fun, he promises, and you will see, oh, you’ll see, you’ll understand. the thrill, the ecstasy of unraveling a mind thread by thread, the art of peeling away resistance until nothing remains but pliant, trembling devotion. he will show you, guide you, remake you into something worthy. yet, when he asked—when he offered after graciously severing you away from those imbeciles—you declined. declined. his smile didn’t falter, no, but something inside him cracked. declined? declined? after everything he had done, after he had so graciously peeled back the veil, unraveled the world for you, made it so easy for you to step into the path made for you? and yet you still clung to that pathetic, fragile little light, that miserable excuse for safety, that wretched, wretched delusion? his fingers twitched. something inside him writhed. the shadows around you trembled, warped, twisted at the edges as if reflecting something he refused to put into words. you were testing him. pushing him. rejecting him. insulting him. but that was fine. oh, that was fine. he could be patient. he could wait. he could break you as slowly as he pleased. but make no mistake—he will break you.

𖦁 and the first step to that? through your master, pure vanilla cookie. he had always been the target, the delicate little thread shadow milk longed to snap, but now—now, there was more to it, more weight, more purpose. it was no longer just about breaking him, no longer just about watching that soft, trembling kindness crumble into despair. no, now it was about you. about making you watch, making you feel every fracture, every moment of his collapse, until the last of your useless devotion burned to ash. he would make you understand. he would make you beg. yes, yes, you will understand, you will see, you will learn the cost of your defiance, the price of your pathetic, meaningless loyalty. you think you can reject him, turn away from what he so graciously offered? no, no, no, it doesn’t work that way, not with him. you will pay for declining him, you will suffer for it. surely, you didn't think you could simply enjoy life as you go on after declining him, don't you?

𖦁 piece by piece, he peeled pure vanilla cookie apart. not carefully, not gently, but with a slow, creeping malice, like hands pressing too tightly around a fragile thing just to feel it strain before it snaps. he could have played his games longer, toyed with the unraveling of a mind with the same amusement as one might pluck the legs off an insect, but you had declined him. and for that, he would make you suffer. he dug into your master’s mind, not just to break him, but to strip him bare, to leave behind something unrecognizable, something that would make you wince just to look at. he did not speak softly, did not coax him into doubt—he let it crawl, let it sink, let it fester until every thought became a sickness. shadow milk made sure he saw, made sure he felt the weight of it, made sure he could not look away. he watched the light drain from his eyes, the tremor settle in his hands, the last of his certainty rot away into something limp, something pitiful. and you—you were forced to watch. to stand there, silent, frozen, as your master, your beloved light, withered into something small, something helpless, something that would never be able to save you. you could scream, you could cry, you could beg for it to stop, but the moment you declined him, you had sealed your fate. this was not a lesson, not a punishment—this was personal. he would take everything, carve out every illusion, pull apart every piece of you until you were empty, hollow, weightless in his hands, until there was nothing left but him. and then—then you would finally be his.

𖦁 yes, yes— yes! you were his, his, his, his, not by chance, not by fate, but because it could be no other way. the key was in his fist, his fist was in his pocket, pressed so tightly against his palm that the metal left little crescents in his skin, a secret little brand of devotion, of longing, of possession. you were his, weren’t you? not yet, not fully, but oh, you would be, you had to be. how could you not see it? how could you not feel it, the way your very existence was carved to fit into his hands? every breath you took without him was a mistake, a terrible, agonizing mistake that he would fix, because he loved you, because he needed you, because the world was wrong—wrong—when you were not his. you could fight, you could sob, you could spit those little refusals like a wounded thing too foolish to realize it had already been caught, but what did it matter? there was no world beyond him anymore, no future that did not end with you folded into him, safe, perfect, ruined beyond recognition. oh, he would break you so gently, so sweetly, so thoroughly that when you finally crumbled, you would do so with his name on your tongue and relief in your heart. because you were his, you had always been his, and soon—soon—you would understand that too.

𖦁 an odious cookie, a caricature of unrelenting cruelty, turpid in spirit, despicable in deed. he was cruel, yes—mean beyond measure, despicable in every conceivable way—but it was all for you. for the twisted devotion he felt for you, a love so suffocating, so sickly sweet, it made the very air around him thick with poison. he already had his devoted followers—his poor, mindless slaves who fawned and worshipped at his feet, their hearts hollow and weak. but none of them, none of them, were enough. not until you were beside him. you, with your innocence, with your indifference. you, the one thing that both tore him apart and made him feel whole. did you not feel it? the pull? the way his gaze devoured you, consumed you, as though you were the last breath of air he would ever taste? oh, sweet darling, how he longed for you. how he burned for you. had you not turned away, had you not rejected him, you would have been his, completely. and he would have been yours, bound in chains of obsession so tight that neither of you could breathe, and only pure vanilla cookie would've heen hurt. and yet... cradling your face in his trembling hands, he let his breath linger on yours, lips brushing against the fading warmth of your skin. your eyes—hollow and lifeless—held no spark, but he didn’t pull away. you were his now, no longer the person you once were, but a broken version of what he had longed for. still, he loved you more for it, for you were his creation, shaped by his devotion. his kiss was not of tenderness, but of possession, absorbing the last traces of your humanity with every stolen breath. no longer yourself, but still his. you were not the person he once desired, but you were his, twisted and remade, and forever—forever—his love would suffocate you, even as you faded into nothingness. your emptiness, the final proof of his devotion, was his greatest prize.

a/n: i got both pv and smc's costumes!! i'm so happy... i only spent 32k for them surprisingly,, they're both so adorbs!!

#cookie run kingdom x reader #cookie run x reader #crk x reader #shadow milk cookie x reader #shadow milk x reader #cookie run kingdom x you #sleeping ❌ writing ✔️

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profeyandere · 11 months ago

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𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐒 ─── ☾ 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒

ʟɪɴᴋꜱ ↪ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ↪ ᴊᴏᴀǫᴜɪɴ ᴘʜᴏᴇɴɪx ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ↪ ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ

ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏꜱ ↪ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.9ᴋ ↪ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴏᴅᴜꜱ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ᴏᴄ ↪ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ꜰᴇᴀʀ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴀʀᴋɴᴇꜱꜱ

English is not my native language, so I apologize for any mistake and if you can help me improve it, I will greatly appreciate it. I hope you enjoy it :D

The soft and warm breeze coming from the deserted Roman streets caused you, as was usual in your slightly anxious and nervous person, a strange feeling of restlessness that many could assimilate due to the strange cool gusts that arose suddenly and chilled anyone who was surrounded by them, but all assumptions disappeared when you stressed to yourself that the reason for your anxiety had begun not long after the sudden death of the former emperor of Rome. Marcus Aurelius, known for being a man as strong as Hercules himself or as wise as the ancient ancestors, had been a second father to you, a man who with his extensive memory told you even the smallest details of each of his adventures in the foreigner and the various conquests that he had managed to make and be victorious around Rome to make his empire one that he had managed to take to Africa, being discovered as a technologically backward continent and very little known by those who were around his Roman kingdom, turning out to be one of the kindest men to those who really knew him, having helped the most impoverished population through various laws and in dire situations, including slaves, women, and children. That man had always taken care of you, he had made you feel protected under his attentive, loving, and proud gaze; He was the father you never had. Although you did not belong to one of the highest social classes, at least you did not belong to one of the lowest, and this, together with the fact that your mother took care of her children since the first of them was born, evidently your arrival into the world. It caused you to spend more time in the Roman palace where the emperor and his children were.

"As thoughtful as always," said a voice behind you that caught your attention, bringing you back to reality with a soft gust of fresh air that made you sigh. "Again, you find yourself thinking, even if you are in the safest place in the whole world, next to me."

That voice, which was usually distant from those who bothered him or showed irritability when directed towards less close people, was now soft and calmer than how you had heard it before. He had been angry before, your husband had been really angry, and now everything seemed more peaceful because he could see your wonderful ethereal figure next to the large balcony of your room.

“I find myself thinking about you, as usual,” you murmured, hoping to show him a little of the affection your heart held for him, slowly turning your body to turn your back to the beautiful view of the empire that loomed beneath your feet, facing the sharp and distant look of the man who had not moved from the main door of the room. "You know I always think about you. I worry about you, especially when you're awake when the moon is so high in the sky."

A soft growl, barely audible, came to you like the roar of a lion. You always liked to show your affection towards him, but you were also aware that he wasn't entirely used to receiving it from anyone other than his sister, even if he had shared his life with you since he was five years old.

Now everything was very different. Commodus was no longer the adorable boy who so often held your hand when he forced you to run with him through the palace corridors, trying to get you to keep up with him so that the guards wouldn't catch you in some absurd game that he thought that it had occurred to him and he would win for being the son of the emperor, even though that was only an excuse to be closer to you and explore that physical contact that he had heard so much about from the cooks; Commodus was no longer the charming boy who so many times tried to sweeten your ear so that you would ride a horse with him despite the various denials you gave him every time he proposed that activity that avoided being malicious, even if the only thing he wanted to feel was it was your arms around his waist. Although, despite all this, and even though Commodus had grown to become the man you know today, there was one thing that had never changed despite the years.

"I don't see the point in waiting up for me. Tomorrow you won't get out of bed until it's late and all I want is to share at least a little of my awakening with my wife's love," he scolded you, trying to be a little serious with you, even if the slight curvature of his lips denoted the opposite. "You do it every night. You wait until I come to the room, whether you long to rest in Morpheus's arms or not."

"You know that I don't like sleeping with light, and I'm aware of how much the darkness terrifies you," you told him, approaching one of the candelabras that rested peacefully on one of the pieces of furniture near your large double bed, ready to make the flames disappear that little by little were consumed. "I don't want you to feel afraid in a place where you should feel at home, much less after the great and important service you offer to Rome."

The emperor felt something strange inside him, he always did when it came to you. Your kindness and serenity, your understanding, and your sweet soul were the attributes that made you the perfect candidate to rule the great Roman empire with him, even if the latter was never to the liking of his late father; He had too many imperfections and had committed terrible acts that not even he would forgive himself if he had to judge himself, but you always seemed to see through it all to the person who was really hiding behind that same layer of grime and horror. You had met a Commodus that no one else was able to see, or perhaps no one wanted to accept that he was there. He had always been despised, you had seen that with the constant rejections of his father as he was always chosen as his last option; He had always been separated and humiliated, being the laughing stock of the guards who were supposed to protect him so much when he was pointed out as a weak man for not being able to withstand the constant beatings when he was trained to be noticed by his own father; He had always been the outcast of his own family, only knowing love through her older sister Lucila and seeing her as the mother he lacked so much during her youth. All of this meant that the only thing he knew, as far as feelings were concerned, was bitterness and loneliness, even if he had you to vent in his moments of greatest weakness.

"As my wife, you are supposed to listen to me," Commodus said in an attempt to appear authoritarian with you, even though he was aware of your stubbornness and how much you didn't like him speaking to you that way, trying to make himself look more strong and imposing in your presence. He was obviously looking for a reaction from you and got it when you raised one of your eyebrows in question. "I can be fine in the dark, I'm not a child anymore."

"Did you stop being a child three days ago? Because remember, my dear Commodus, that three nights ago you were in bed hugging me as if something bad was going to be done to you, begging me for there to be a tiny little flame in sight or a light to illuminate your part of the bed," you answered with a soft sly smile, keeping you close to the last lit lamp that provided light to the room, putting more emphasis on that fear that you had never managed to figure out how to remove; Sometimes it was exasperating not knowing how to help him at times like this. "Your well-being is one of my greatest concerns and, if you do not feel well in the only place where you should by obligation feel comfortable, then it is my duty to do everything possible to make you feel protected."

Moments like those, in which you showed your genuine concern for him, could be very common throughout the days, but he always appreciated them as if they were the first time you said those important and strong words for him.

An attempt at a smile appeared on his face. He gently lifted the cheeks of his lips, which made you feel a little more relieved to see that the tension he had carried with him all day seemed to have momentarily vanished with your short speech. You observed the way in which his tall body, muscled by the various exercises he performed throughout the week and which had apparently begun to deteriorate a little due to the obligation to continue doing other chores, let himself fall, exhausted and exhausted, to the edge of the large imperial bed that had belonged to you since he was crowned emperor, making it bounce softly at how soft it was, while the thin pillows full of feathers sank with their weight towards the defeated side, closing your eyes so that the Darkness slowly surrounded him, and it was only because his eyelids had lowered and not because the last light in his room had faded with the air coming from outside.

Small hands that he would recognize anywhere on Earth, as delicate as glass and as soft as silk, he felt as they were quickly placed on his sharp cheeks that, thinner than they had ever been, showed a slight deterioration in his physical appearance state due to stress. Your hands so loved and tender, gently cradled his face so that he would relax, causing his jaw to relax as he felt your thumbs tracing his bone and there were no longer any frown lines on his forehead frowning from him; Now everything was starting to be different at that late hour of the night.

"How do you do it?" He questioned himself, even though his words escaped from his lips and reached your ears. "How do you make him feel safe with your caresses, more than I could ever be in the company of the entire Roman troop?"

Your laughter flooded his ears in such a perfect way that he couldn't help but accompany your laughter with his own, as if it were an effect that you had on him, allowing you to attract his head towards your body, thus causing his face to be buried on your soft belly covered by a long white silk nightgown.

"I don't know, you answer that question for me."

His greenish eyes, always showing curiosity, slowly rose and drew your elegant dark and slightly moonlit figure to finally meet yours in that dark and dull room in which you were. And that's when he saw it, at that moment he was able to answer himself. Your eyes shone with love, with warmth, with a light so strong that it could guide him back to you if, at any point in his life, he felt lost wherever he went; because you were his light within his world of darkness.

#commodus #commodus x reader #commodus x you #commodus x oc #reader #you #oc #commodus imagines #joaquin phoenix imagines #gladiator 2000 #gladiator

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roseyodditea · 11 months ago

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Stiff Joints - Wriothesley x gn! Reader

Summary -> Some mornings are harder than others. (Established relationship)

Warnings -> Slightly suggestive towards the end

A/N -> 850 words, not proofread and self indulgent because I am also having a bad hand day.

**********

Early. Too goddam early to be awake. The sun wouldn’t even be fluttering in the curtains if you could see the damn sun from the bottom of the ocean. The bed around you was too cold, too uncomfortable, too… empty.

“Wrio?” You muttered, sitting up despite the protest of your back. Your boyfriend was nowhere to be found. Your eyes scanned the dark room until you saw the light underneath the bathroom door. “Wriothesley?” You ask again as you slip out of bed, the metal floor of the Fortress of Meropide cold underneath your feet. You approached the bathroom door only to hear the clattering of something in the sink, followed by the frustrated growl of the man behind the door. “I’m coming in.” You don’t give him a chance to protest as you open the door, only to be greeted by the sight of the man hunched over the sink, wearing only a black t shirt, boxers, and a face full of shaving cream.

“I’m sorry if I woke you up, sweetheart.” He grumbled, not wanting to take his frustrations out on you as he reached for the razor in the sink.

You stepped close, placing a hand on his back. “Don’t apologize. Are you okay? What’s wrong?” He clawed at the shaving cream on his face, wiping it off, frustrated. “It’s nothing” “Wriothesley.” “It’s nothing.” “Wriothesley” “I said-” He turned to look at you, seeing that worried, and tired look on your face. All the negative emotions dissipate immediately. “You want the truth?”

“I’d greatly prefer it, yeah.” He put the razor down on the edge of the sink. “I’ve been fighting my entire life. Boxing with both gloves and bare knuckles.” “I’ve known this, and yet I still sleep in your bed every night. Is this you thinking you’re too dangerous for me again? We’ve been through this. You know I’ll always love you.” You point out, too early to have your normal patience you grant him, instead offering him rather blunt compassion.

Wriothesley sighed, looking into the mirror. “I’ve all but destroyed my hands. It’s why I wear wraps every day. They hurt, my fingers don’t move right, and some mornings I can’t even grip the damn razor and get this stubble off of my face.”

“Is that it?” “Seems a bit dismissive.” He sighs and looks over at you, hurt in his eyes.

You hesitate, noticing he is in a much more vulnerable position than you’re used to seeing him. “I don’t mean that in a dismissive way, my dear. I just mean it’s something I can help with.” He clenches his still foam shaven jaw. “What could you possibly do to help my broken hands?” “Be your hands for you.” You respond, gently taking the razor from his hand, thankful he didn't make a snarky comment at the cheesy words. You hop up on the bathroom counter, grabbing a washcloth and running it under warm water.

“My dear you don’t have to.” He responds, swallowing the lump in his throat, trying to hold back his emotions.

You respond by placing a hand on the back of his neck, guiding him to lean forward, his towering frame shrinking down to reach your waiting hand, the razor running gently across his jaw, taking care of the stubble he found so annoying. “I know I don’t have to. I want to.” You guide his face to look to one side, shaving one side of his jaw and down his neck, his icy eyes locked on yours, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Thank you.” He whispered, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Thank you so much.” “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” You ask as you run the warm washcloth on his freshly shaven jaw.

He scoffs and doesn’t resist looking the other direction, letting you shave the other side of his face. “What? That my fingers don’t work?” “I mean they were working just fine last night.” You watch as he bites back a smirk, but he couldn't resist it for too long. “There’s that handsome smile.” “You’re the worst, you know… I have a reputation you know.” His eyes soften impossibly further as you finish shaving his jaw and his neck for him. He doesn't hesitate to rest his forehead on yours. “I didn’t want to worry you.” He says softly, answering your question.

“What a silly thing to hide from me you stupid man.” You chuckle and place a kiss on his lips. “What helps your hands the most, hm?”

His lips chase after yours before he lets out a huff. “Heat. Ironic giving the cryo vision.” “Mmm what kind of heat?” You ask with a low voice, your lips still hovering near his, him taking a deep breath between his teeth.

“That kind works perfectly” He bent down and captured your lips again, his arms wrapping around your waist, he went to pull you off the counter, but stopped when you broke the kiss, placing your hand on his chest.

“Absolutely not. Your hands hurt. Let me take care of you this morning.” You chuckle and hop off the counter, grabbing the collar of his shirt, tugging him out of the bathroom and towards the bed, and of course, he follows without hesitation.

“Of course~”

**********

#wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x you #wriothesley fluff #genshin x reader #oneshot #wriothesley x y/n

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neyafromfrance95 · 7 months ago

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i feel like when we talk about sauron x galadriel we often focus on either the dynamic itself or sauron's pov, and we need to talk about galadriel's pov more bc it's really fascinating and complex.

for starters, galadriel loves halbrand. it's been confirmed by the creators and by her reaction to him in 2.08. and it was simply obvious from everything leading up to that point. he is her one true love. the only being with from she established a true connection. a comrade with whom she found companionship. she found herself in a soulmate hurt/comfort au when she was with him. and it seems like, no matter how she feels about sauron, she will always love halbrand. what an epitome of tragedy it is to eternally love a man who never existed?

sauron implied that he wanted to heal her when he said that if he wanted forgiveness, he would need to heal everything he helped to ruin, and he took accountability for galadriel's trauma when he apologized for finrod and everything. and i think one of the reasons halbrand had such an effect on galadriel is that his presence really was healing for her. for the first time since finrod, she wasn't alone. she felt understood and believed. he made her open up to him. she could be vulnerable with him. i find it interesting that she mockingly asks him "do you want to heal me", as if making a point that he can't heal her so that she can pretend like he didn't at some point. it adds another layer to her shame too, bc as much as she believes he can't heal the middle-earth, he was able to heal her when he "created" halbrand for her.

she has spent a lifetime harboring a deep hatred of sauron. her main goal in the life being to take revenge on him for her brother. for her, he is a sworn enemy that she's destined to slay. her hatred and ambition to kill him so all consuming and intense that she turned her back on heaven for him and basically willed him back into life.

galadriel is sauron's mirror. she has gazed into the abyss for so long that the abyss gazed back into her. her fight against him has became an intrinsic part of her identity, and we see how now sauron binds her to himself several times, either by guilt or by stabbing her with morgoth's crown, so we can say he has become an intrinsic part of her very being. always there just above her heart.

i think that sauron believes when he says that he would make her his equal queen, i believe that this is what he wants deep down (she is a natural leader, he is a natural follower). but would that actually happen? i don't believe that galadriel would ever willingly join him in mordor not only bc of the light her gaze is fixed on and bc of finrod, but also bc her pride and fear wouldn't allow it. what sauron offers galadriel is basically what jareth offers sarah (labyrinth) - "just fear me, love me. do as i say and i will be your slave." sauron wants galadriel to tame him, in a way, but she wouldn't be able to torture him into submission like morgoth did, as she could never match his strength, even as a dark!witch-queen, and she knows that. unless he repents and joins her in valinor, as a couple, sauron will always dominate galadriel in their dynamic.

trop recontextualizes what we know about galadriel's future. nenya is a symbol of her relationship with sauron and it causes her an extreme sea-longing, and the sea is another thing associated with her bond with sauron. even tho she has family and friends, she feels alone and her heart has greatly desired what sauron's proposal tempted her with for 3000-5000 years! she didn't go to valinor when celebrian did, didn't stay in the middle-earth while celeborn did, she only left the middle-earth for valinor when sauron was gone! and she took nenya with her! with trop context, it doesn't only signify her holding onto power/fight, it signifies her holding onto the only one thing that materialized as a symbol of her connection with sauron/halbrand! so while she passes the test and resists the one ring, i believe she will always yearn for both power and halbrand.

the dichotomy between her love for halbrand and her hatred for sauron is such an interesting concept, as is the dichotomy of her opposing the darkness of the dark lord as the lady of the light while being the perfect mirror of sauron, completely understood only by him, being the only one he is capable of loving, cosmically bound to him by the sea and the blood.

#galadriel #haladriel #sauron x galadriel #the rings of power #saurondriel #rings of power #sauron #galadriel x halbrand #trop #rop

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lostinlovingrevery · 4 months ago

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Roadtrips and Relaxing (18+!!)

Old Man Logan X F!Reader

A/N: I just want him to use me

Plot: You and Logan are out on a roadtrip trying to find more medicine for Charles. Logan is stressed, and you know exactly how to help him.

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT, a lil porn with plot, established relationship, Unprotected PiV, public bathroom sex, Oral (M recieving), ya'll fuck nasty, Logan is subby at first but immediately becomes a dom after bc he can't give up control for long, rough sex, a lil fluff at the end. Reader is female, and a former doctor. Ya'll are in love , logan uses pet names and one (1) derogatory term

Word Count: 3234

These trips were always exhausting.

You and Logan were out, traveling miles upon miles through country and desert, in the search of medicine for Charles. You had left Caliban to take care of him, a job that usually belonged to you, while you went with Logan this time to retrieve the medicine. You hit a speed bump though, as your usual source- a sketchy clinic that didn’t require prescriptions had been burned down to the ground, with no signs of a possible reopening, contacting of the owners, or a relocation.

You were a doctor yourself, but due to the fact that you were hiding out with Logan and Charles, and the fact that you weren’t working in a valid medical practice, meant you couldn’t write prescriptions- unless you wanted a pharmacy to call the police on you. It did mean that you knew exactly how to take care of Charles, what to give him to control his seizures, and you even have tested out different mixes of medicine that Logan acquired, stuff that has helped Charles greatly, but doesn’t stop his declining state which broke your heart.

Now, with your usual source for drugs gone, you and Logan were on a search for something else. Clinics, dealers, they pop up, come and go, making it tricky for you to find an actual source. Logan was getting stressed. It's been a few days, and you both knew that what was left behind for Charles was running out which meant you needed to find something soon.

“We need gas.” Logan mutters under his breath. You looked at him, as he flipped on the turn signal- spotting a gas station that looked like it was part diner as well. You saw his hands tensing, gripping the steering wheel so tightly the veins popping out along his scarred hands. He pulled up along a gas pump and put the limo into park, leaning back in his seat with a hard groan as he tipped his head back against the headrest.

You admired his aging face. His salt and pepper hair and beard, his nose- sculpted like a Greek god, his lips, which you rarely saw a smile appear on, but when you did felt like you were blessed by the heavens. He constantly demeans himself whenever you two are together, telling you that you shouldn’t be with an old man like him. You, on the other hand, truly believed he was your soulmate. It didn’t matter how old he was, how cranky he would get, you loved him to pieces and you hated seeing the stress on his face, the tension he carries in his shoulders. You did everything you could to help him, both as a lover and as a doctor. You could not, however, stop the adamantium from slowly poisoning his body.

“Lo. It’s okay. We’ll find somewhere.” You say softly, reaching out to put a hand over his, that was resting on the console. “You need to relax a little, maybe I can drive for a bit-”

He moved his hand away, a scowl on his face as he didn't look at you. Pushing the driver's side door open, stepping out of the limo with a clear ache in his body, before slamming it shut. You sighed as you sat in it alone. You never took it personally when he got like this- although you certainly made sure he heard about it later when his mood picked up, and you’d get rewarded with sweet kisses all over your body as he apologizes, thanking you for dealing with him.

You knew he needed to relax. Even if it’s just for a few minutes but you also knew that you would not be able to talk to him when he gets like this. Stubborn, bull-headed. He gets in his own head, determined to do things his way, and take care of everyone. Be the hero. Normally, he’s fairly receptive to you- your opinions and suggestions. You both have been on the road for awhile, barely any sleep, chasing leads that end nowhere. You knew he had to be exhausted, and aching.

There was only one way to get him to relax.

You looked at the gas station- part dinner. Didn’t look like a shabby place actually, with only a few people inside either eating or perusing the snack aisles. You pushed open your door, stepped out, and walked to the building; knowing Logan was watching you as you walked away, not even looking back at him- knowing it’ll irritate him but that’s exactly what you wanted.

You stepped inside, going towards the back of the building, and finding the bathrooms. You went to the one marked women, stepping inside, glad to see it was a single-person bathroom. You locked the door behind you, stepping to the mirror as you fixed your appearance up, washed your hands. Now, you just need to wait.

You knew it would be a few minutes before Logan came to look for you. He’d pick up that you were gone longer than you usually were, wonder if you were pissed and come in to get you.

It was about 5 minutes later when you heard him knock on the door.

“Baby?” He called, voice low and gruff. “Are you there?”

You unlocked the door, pulling it open, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him inside- as you pushed the door shut, turning the lock, and immediately pressed your lips against yours as you pushed him against the door.

He grunted as he bumped into the wooden door, kissing you back eagerly as his hands went to hold your hips, bringing you against his as he ran his tongue over your mouth, eager to be invited in. Making out though, was not your plan.

Harsh pants echoed in the small bathroom as you pulled away from him, instead opting to kiss his neck, nipping at the flesh that made him groan. Your hands slide down his chest, down to his belt buckle, as you quickly undo it, the belt clinking. You unzipped his pants, and moved down onto your knees, as you tugged his slacks down pulling out his semi-hard staff. You always admired his length, it didn’t matter if he was soft or hard- the sight of him just made your mouth water.

“Princess- fuck.” He groaned, as you licked a long stripe from his base to his tip, stroking him as you felt him grow harder in your palm, his tip growing redder and leaking with each stroke, using his pre-cum as a lubricant that made slick noises through the bathroom.

You brought him up to your lips, kissing the slit of his tip, then moving downwards, pressing soft kisses all the way down his shaft, down to his balls, making him groan, twitching in your hand as he became more and more desperate for your warm mouth around him. “Come on bub, quit the teasing.” He groans, his hand going to your head, intertwining in your hair. You smiled against his cock, pressing him against your cheek as you looked up at him with wide eyes. He groaned at the sight, biting down on his inner cheek as his hand came down to stroke your face. “Goddamn you’re so beautiful.” He mutters, making you smile bigger.

“Gotta relax, tough guy.” You say softly, before you lean back, and slowly take his tip between your lips. You hummed at the taste of him, closing your eyes and leaned further in, taking more of his throbbing length into your mouth. He let out a guttural moan, tipping his head back, as his hand moved back into your hair. You ran your tongue along the underside of his cock, and you pushed down more, swallowing him with each inch until you felt his coarse hair against your nose. Your eyes watered by the size of him in your mouth; over time you had learned ways to accommodate his large member inside you, making sure he feels every bit of pleasure you could possibly give him.

“Come on baby, please” he whined softly under his breath. You moved back, pulling out from your mouth, a small gasp as you looked down at his length, now thoroughly soaked through with your spit, a long string of saliva connecting him to your lips. You gave him a few hard strokes with your hand before you took him back in your mouth again, bobbing your head up and down, stroking his base with what you don’t take in, every few strokes you take him fully down your throat again. You could hear him panting, small whines that graced your ears, as you opened your eyes to look up at him. His teeth gritted, and pupils blown out with lust, you attempted to smile with his cock in your mouth. The action made him roll his eyes back, mouth agape as he attempted to control his breathing. You felt drool leaking out of the corner of your lips, and you continued working him over, bringing him closer and closer to his finish. You could feel his thigh tensing under your palm, so you pulled back, stroking him with your hand again, as you sucked on his tip, pressing your tongue into his slit, and looking back up at him.

“Fuck!” He cursed, his hand gripping your hair, and pulling you back onto his cock as you felt his warm release coating the back of your throat, your hands braced against his thighs as he kept his dick sheathed inside your warm mouth as he spilled inside you, his head tipped back in pure pleasure. Your eyes watered as you began to struggle to breathe, and he finally pulled back out of you roughly with a harsh grunt. You swallowed everything he gave you, as you brought your arm up to wipe your mouth clean of the drool and cum that leaked out. “Fuck, cmon, up-” He orders, grabbing your arm and pushing you up to your feet. His hand grabbed your jaw tightly, pulling you in for a deep burning kiss, before he shoves his tongue down your throat, turning into something sloppy. Pulling away, he looked down at you with fierce eyes, a scowl on his face. “I’m not done with you.” He growls.

He spun you around, pushing you against the sink. He grabbed your hands, placing them both on the sink firmly. “Keep em there and don’t fucking move till I tell you.” He mutters.

You knew what this was about. He lost himself in you, and now he needed to regain control; so you prepped yourself, preparing to get fucked within an inch of your life.

One hand came up, beginning to fondle your breast, as the other began shoving your pants down to your knees, before he kneeled down to pull them off of you completely. You heard a snikt! And suddenly you felt your panties fall off your body, torn to tatters by his claws. They retracted and he stood back up.

“You’re fucking soaked darling.” He muttered into your ear, his chin resting on your shoulder, his chest pressed to your back. “Get that turned on sucking an old man like me off hmm?”

His warm hand made contact with your mound, simply cupping it, before holding it up in front of your face. “Look how fucking soaked my hand is already, I barely even touched you.”

You nodded, arching your back against him. “Lo please-” You whimpered.

He brought his hand back down, his finger sliding through your folds, before making contact with your clit. You jerked at the stimulation- you were so focused on getting him off, you hadn’t realized just how wet and sensitive you’ve become yourself. He pressed your swollen bud again with just his finger, teasing you with just barely enough stimulation.

“Lo!”

“Oh, now you don’t like the teasing huh bub?” He says raspy. You shook your head and he grinned. “Liar. You love it.” He turned to nip your ear. He finally gave in, using two fingers to rub circles against your clit, the pressure he applies to it ranging from soft to rough, between fast and slow- bringing you to the brink of an orgasm, as you felt that white-hot burning heat in your lower belly, but he pulled away- making you cry out. “Don’t worry princess.” He groaned. He took his cock in his hard, half-hard again as he stroked himself to a full erection. “Fucking filthy, you know that? Luring me in here just to suck my cock.” He growled as his arm came around your hips, pushing them back as he teased his tip at your pulsing hole.

“Just-” You gasped as he barely pushed his tip inside you. “Wanted to make you feel good-”

“Yeah? Always trying to take care of your old man, hm?” He muttered. His feet kicked yours farther apart, forcing your legs open wider, as his other arm came around your whole body, pinning your arms to the side, and giving him full control over you. You nodded desperately, enraptured by his whole body surrounding you. All you could feel was him. “You got your wish, you made me feel real fucking good. So good that I don’t think I want to stop just yet.” He groans in your ear. “I’m gonna use you up, and you’re going to take it all like a good girl- got it?”

You nodded desperately, your body practically trembling in anticipation. You barely had a moment to register as he thrust his whole length inside you in one moment- making you cry out as your body jumped with his thrust. You went on your tippy toes, accommodating the way his one arm practically held you up. He pressed his cheek against yours, his beard scratching against your face as you heard him grunt. You felt him so deep inside you, as your body molded around him to accommodate his size.

“Gotta stay quiet darling. You want people to hear?” He mutters. “Probably do, coming in here and acting like a slut.”

You moaned, and his hand came up to cover your mouth. He was a hypocrite, because he was being just as loud as you were a few moments again. Your toes curled as you felt his hips began to move, as he pulled out, and thrust back into you. You yelled against his hand- not in pain, but full pleasure. You loved when he got rough. It meant he was feeling good, able to use some of his strength that he usually couldn’t carry much anymore every day. You knew this was exactly the kind of stress relief he needed, even if he didn’t realize it himself immediately. You made a mental note to tell him that you wouldn’t mind being his stress toy.

His thrusts were hard and rough. He started slowly, your body bouncing against his, before he picked up- pounding into you, the sound filling the bathroom and no doubt if someone were to walk by they would hear it. The sound of skin slapping against skin. You couldn’t move, squirm, nothing. Logan had his arm firmly around your waist, pinning your arms to your side, his hand covering your mouth- attempting to silence your whines and moans.

“Fuck you’re being extra loud sweetheart.” He grunted. He pushed two fingers into your mouth. “Suck on em” He orders. “Give those pretty lips something to do and stay quiet.” You obliged, wrapping your lips around his fingers, sucking as you ran your tongue over his warm fingers, taking in the taste of him.

He growled, as his body pushed down on you, bending you over against the sink, as he fucked into you hard. His hips slammed against your ass, surely you’ll be bruised later by the pace of his skin smacking into yours. His cock stretched you out, and he angled himself to fucking against the spot that had you seeing stars, your eyes rolling back as you couldn’t even think straight, no longer able to even suck on his fingers as you began to drool, he fucked you dumb and weak. He pressed his lips against your temple, feeling the way you clenched tightly around him, signaling your impending release.

“Come on baby, cum all over my cock-” He grunted, his hips thrusting hard into you again. “Fuck I love you-”

That was all you needed, as your whole body tensed, and your explosive finish came to. Waves and waves of ecstasy rolled through you, squeezing around Logan almost painfully as he grunted, committing a final thrust as he spilled inside you. You both stood there, bodies attached to each other, heaving for breath, sweat beading your skin, as Logan did a few lazy thrusts, drawing out the last bits of your mutual ecstasy. He dropped his hand from your mouth, wrapping his other arm around you in a hug from behind- still inside you, as both your releases dripped down your legs. He pressed soft kisses to your cheek, down to your neck.

“You okay princess?” He asked softly. Your body was trembling, but you were on cloud 9, as you managed to nod. He carefully pulled out of you, turning you around. You could barely feel your legs as you used the sink to balance yourself, and you brought your hands to his chest.

“You feel better?” You hummed, running your hand soothingly over his chest, and he smiled- that rare smile that always made your heart skip.

“Yeah princess. Thank you.” He says softly, putting a hand on your cheek, his thumb rubbing against your cheekbone as he admired your face- you knew you had to look like a mess, drool over your lips and chin, with wet eyes and tear-stained cheeks. Yet he stared at you like you were the most gorgeous thing in the world. “Could’ve just said something if you wanted me so bad…” He smirks.

“You were being an ass mister.” You tilted your head knowingly at him. He looked away a bit bashfull,

“Yeah. I know.” He muttered, bringing a hand up to scratch his neck, an action you’ve seen him do whenever he gets embarrassed- especially after he acted like an asshole. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. You made it up to me.” You smiled up at him. The corners of his eyes crinkled, and you once again admired the man before you. You wished he’d see himself the way you saw him. Not just handsome, but compassionate, strong, someone who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. He never considered himself a hero, never looked at himself as a good man, but before you, you saw a man that was doing everything he could for the people he cared for. “We’ll get through this.” You say softly, in a small attempt to provide some comfort to his mind. His face softened, and he nodded.

“We will.” He says softly. He looked over you, you half clad figure- your bottom half was a complete mess, and he grinned once more- something about more devilish, kneeling down onto the ground before you, and taken your leg to place over his shoulder as his hands came up to cup your still shaky thigh and ass. “First though. Gotta clean you up- and even the score.”

#let me know if i miss any warning tags #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #wolverine #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett fic #logan howlett x you #wolverine x reader #logan howlett smut #old man logan x reader #old man logan smut #vans daydreams

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honest-moth-of-silver-grove · 2 years ago

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Hi thank u for opening asks! Can I request headcanons for the male companions (and or gortash Raphael and the emperor) having a mute s/o either because they can’t talk or they’re very shy

A/N: Here ya go! Managed to get everyone to stay mostly in character. Please be warned there are hints of nsfw for each character, although nothing graphic in nature. And that the entries for Gortash and Raphael describe abusive relationships, so heed the trigger warnings below.

🔇 Mute!Reader HC x BG3 Males: 🔇

TW: Domestic Abuse & Vaguely NSFW Content

(Abuse and Manipulation for the Gortash & Raphael ones. Also allusions to sex throughout each entry.)

Astarion:

He’s suspicious of you at first. Even more so that you don’t talk. But if you prove you’re not a threat in other ways, he doesn’t actually mind it all that much. He talks to you about the same. A good amount of what he says is either posturing or complaining- and that doesn't change just because you can’t talk back. If anything, he complains even more, knowing you wont tell him to shove off like the others. He greatly enjoys how dramatic he gets to be around you. He’ll lean against a city wall and dramatically lay the back of his hand over his face: ‘I tell you Darling, it’s like these people don’t notice me at all!’ You blink at his outburst, your expression unchanged, clearly unamused.

Still says lots of witty comments under his breath, and subtly looks over at you to see if you’ve smirked or blushed in response. Gets really good at reading all the little reactions you make. He makes a mental catalog of every half smirk, every eye twitch, every shoulder shrug, so that he knows how you feel about something he or another has said.

Appreciates the fact that you’re unlikely to repeat anything he says to you, which makes him feel all the safer confiding in you about his condition and his past, knowing you can’t go sounding the alarm.

Ends up going on tangents or rants about the others while you just sit there and kind of grimace, empathetically. He knows it can get annoying to just have to listen, but he’s extremely grateful for the outlet. Cazador certainly never cared what he was feeling. Nor did any of his ‘siblings’. But with you, he can bitch about his day only to turn around and find you still there, listening intently.

Becomes a lot touchier. Like a lot. He switches from checking to verbal confirmation to physical confirmation. Takes your hand, or pulls you close, squeezes your shoulder- those sorts of things.

Personally takes it as a challenge to see how loud he can get you to be when you’re intimate together ;)

Gale:

Doesn’t notice immediately lol. He’s too busy being overjoyed at the fact you don’t interrupt his long winded, pun-filled speeches to even consider it’s due to a disability or something similar on your part. He just thinks you’re the most wonderful listener. And of course, this makes him fall head over heels for you lol.

Once he does get it, he just sort of goes, ‘Oh.’ And lets that sit in the air. (He’s a bit awkward around you for a while, unsure of how to apologize, so you’d probably need to approach him and make your forgiveness known.)

Once that misunderstanding is over, he immediately becomes occupied with finding spells to help you talk. If that’s something you want, you appreciate the effort, and let him know you’re in no rush. If that’s something you’re not interested in, you tell him as much. He’s a little disappointed and taken off guard. He explains he’s always used magic to solve his problems. You raise your brow and give him a look that says ‘And that’s been working well for you, has it?’ He relents after that.

The two of you get really good at reading each other’s faces. And Gale takes it upon himself to talk less as well, even though you explain he doesn’t have to. He insists, saying he wants to understand what your life is like. He lasts like two days lol.

Becomes mostly competent at understanding what you’re saying either via sign or body language, but occasionally Tera has to translate for you. Thank the gods for tressyms.

Wyll:

Is momentarily taken aback, embarrassed by his concern he was being rude to you before, assuming you could talk to him but were choosing not to. Apologizes, profusely, for the misunderstanding on his part.

Learns to communicate with you through other means, be it writing, or by whatever the Faerun equivalent of sign language is. He’s not the best at it, but he tries really hard to learn. Picks up basic phrases like greetings, and moods. Does request that you slow down if you’re fluent, to give his brain time to catch up.

Doesn’t let anyone in the group make petty or passive aggressive comments while giving them a look or chewing them out. He’s very serious about it. The next time Astarion says something off the cuff, Wyll responds with, ‘Well, Astarion, I’d assume you of all people would be used to it being quiet. Having only the other rats of Baldurs Gate as friends for years.’ He’ll go for the jugular- he doesn't give af! No one gets to make you feel bad about it.

Considers going to Shadowheart or Halsin, or even Gale and asking them if there’s something they can do to help you/your condition, but that’s only with your blessing of course. He wants to help you, but doesn’t want to overstep.

Comes to appreciate how honest you are in your other reactions- your eyes and your body language. Wyll is used to being deceived- by demons, humans, and the like- so he thinks it’s so special he can read you like a book. Whether you’re strolling through Baldur’s Gate, or enjoying your marital bed, it matters greatly to him how you truly feel and think. He’s glad he’s able to share your truth with him.

Halsin:

Catches on fairly quickly, although he doesn’t bring it up to you directly. He figures you will bring it up when you are ready to discuss it, and in the meantime, he would not want to pry. Listens intently when you tell him by checking in with your facial expression as he reads your writing.

Tries to find ways to help you with what you can do. Suggests maybe enchanting a feather pen and scroll or some chalk and a small board to write out what you’re thinking so others can understand how it is you feel in real time. He offers his druid magic to do whatever you need. Hell, he even considers mentoring you to see if you feel nature’s calling. If you were a druid, perhaps you could develop a relationship with an animal companion, say a bird, or an awakened rat, or a giant eagle and get them to speak for you.

Similar to Wyll, Halsin will try to learn sign language if that’s something you speak. However he isn’t the most adept at it. He’s very used to spellcasting, which requires at least one free hand, often his dominant hand. So he tries learning sign with his nondominant hand, but that makes it all the more difficult. He knows the alphabet, but that’s about it. You will have to slowly spell out your sentences word by word in order for him to get the gist.

Makes sure you’re either safely hidden away at camp, or stay within his sight during a battle. He knows you cannot cry out for help, so he wants to make sure he can keep an eye on you throughout any conflict.

Loves just being close to you. Swears he can hear the intention of your heart when the two of you are so close. He wants to assure you, your difference doesn’t make him love you any less. If anything, he is impressed with how much you continue to adapt to and overcome. He’ll say, ‘You need not speak for me to know your voice, my heart. One look in your eyes, and I know, it is an internal melody so beautiful, all of nature could not compare.’ He’ll place soft touches to your skin and face, and check your reaction before progressing any further. He thinks being intimate with you is the best way to express your emotions as a couple. After all, sex is the most ancient language of all.

Minsc:

He doesn’t get it until Boo points it out to him lol. And even after being told, he still forgets from time to time.

Minsc loves to talk. Well brag. And boast. And speak in the third-person. So he’s not thrown off by you having to refer to yourself with body language or with possessive pronouns in Common writings.

He will ask you lots of questions, all throughout the day. Some are obvious and others are seemingly random, and difficult to explain with your words limited to being written down as fast as you can before Minsc’s mind wanders and changes the subject. It’s a workout for your wrists honestly.

He will loudly announce that you’re mute every time you meet new people. ‘This is (Y/N), my dear love, she cannot speak. So (Y/N) will write her answers for Boo. And Boo will tell me. Then Minsc may tell you.’ You keep trying to tell him, the system doesn’t need Boo and him to interpret for you, especially if you’re already recording your answers in Common for others to read.

He will never let you apologize for not being able to speak. He refuses to see it as a problem. ‘Minsc speaks loud enough for both of us, no?’ He thinks you’re the most wonderful person around. He could have his pick of the crop, and yet he chose you. Trust him, you’re the person he wants to be with more than anything.

Gortash:

Actually kind of prefers lovers who don’t talk back, lol. He’s a very insecure man when it comes to his character. He’s cunning and wise, but clawed his way out of hell (quite literally) and the self-critical voice in his head never silences. So he’s oddly comforted that you can’t demean his temperament.

He won’t try to fix it, nor will he allow you to try and change it in any sort of way. He doesn’t want you to go babbling on about his plans or how he is behind closed doors. That information cannot be getting out. So no, you will not be allowed any magic or spells to help you communicate.

He will open up to you on occasion in private. The longer you’re together, the more safe he feels like confiding in you. If you feign sympathy, or if you are in fact sympathetic to his backstory, he’ll feel something akin to love for you. It’s not quite love. It’s much more logical, more calculating and pragmatic than that. But it’s about as close as you’d get with him.

Likes how you have little to no choice other than to stay at his side and listen to him intently. He loves watching all your little apprehensive reactions when beckons you closer and pulls you into his lap. How your pulse races, how your breath quickens, he knows how his proximity makes you feel, even if you can’t open your mouth to speak the words. Besides, he’s very sure your mouth will be good for, let’s just say, other things.

He will allow you to write him little notes here and there, but only in his office, and only when no one else is around. He’s rather paranoid that way. But he’s also rather pleased how it means you must keep seeking him out during his working hours. He’s under no false impression that he's the kindest lover. But you can’t leave him. You need him. He’s the only one who’s allowed to understand you. And he intends to keep it that way.

Raphael:

Like Gortash, Raphael feels a sort of sick satisfaction over the fact you can’t talk back to him. But then on the other hand, he feels a sort of sick disappointment that he can’t torture you into making all those sweet pathetic noises for him. So it’s 50/50 with him.

He will consider giving you a voice via deviant magic if it means he can hear you beg. It drives him absolutely wild, and he refuses to go completely without it. Takes said voice away if you venture too far into brat territory, or you directly insult him. It’s a privilege for you to even look upon him, how dare you use the gift he gave you against him?

Has Harleep babysit you when he isn’t there. You can’t exactly call for help, and Raphael’s house isn’t safe for you to be wandering about unsupervised.

Enjoys the look of pure frustration on your face when you try learning to write in Infernal, only to fail miserably. He thinks you’re adorable all revved up. He will read the notes you write in Common, he just doesn’t always respond to them. Despite his refusal to acknowledge most of them, you can tell he understands them, based on how large that vein on his forehead gets lol.

He will let you choose whether or not to have a voice during certain moments of pleasure; well, mostly pleasure. He loves the little gasps and moans you make, it fuels his lust for you even more. Then again, he doesn’t need to hear the sweet cries of your pretty voice to know whether he’s on the right track. ‘I can sense your heartbeat, little mouse,’ he'll whisper to you. Your body reveals to Raphael all there is to know, whether you want it to or not.

The Emperor:

It literally doesn’t matter. Dude’s telepathic lol.

Wishes you’d become an illithid so you’d be telepathic too. Almost doesn’t take no for an answer on that one.

Ultimately ends up relishing in the fact he alone can understand you- your wants, your needs, your dreams, and hopes. It makes him feel all the more powerful.

Will give you the play-by-play about the Nether Brain and the Chosen Three because he’s been dying to tell someone, and he knows you can’t go running in the streets telling everyone and ruining his hopes of manipulation. Mainly because you don’t talk but also because he’s not letting you leave his realm lol, no way in hell.

If you really don’t feel at home here, ‘You could always,’ he’ll suggest coyly, ‘Become one of us.’ You don’t even have to shake your head to tell him ‘no’. Your facial expression does all the talking for that one.

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