#i just *clenches fist* love when people are genuinely kind to each other | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

amberskywrites · 7 months ago

Text

Eternal

Chapter 24 - Consequences

Chapter 1 | Chapter 23 | Chapter 25 || Masterpost | AO3 Link | FF.net Link

Fandom / Genre: Nanatsu no Taizai (Seven Deadly Sins) / Canon-Divergent and Hurt/Comfort

Pairings: Meliodas/Elizabeth, Zeldris/Gelda, Meliodas & Zeldris & Elizabeth & Gelda

Overall Story Warnings: Angst with a happy ending, Canon-typical violence, Canonical character death, Canon temporary character death, Cursed characters, Lmk if I need to add anything else!

Chapter Warnings: None, lmk if there’s anything I need to add!

Author's Note:

So, so incredibly sorry for how long it's taken to get back to this! A lot of stuff ended up happening - younger sibling was dealing with a lot of health issues, family tensions reached a new high, I'm no longer on speaking terms with someone in my house, so much uni work. And now I'm trying to get to a point where I'm no longer reliant on that someone financially, trying to plan to move out later this year, and am now working retail part-time before uni starts up again alongside an internship I was accepted for. I can't promise that updates will be more frequent or be on any kind of schedule; but what I can promise is that this story will not be abandoned. If you ever want an update on how it's going - or just to ask me what's up - message me anywhere from here on Ao3 to Tumblr or Instagram ^^ Thank you all, genuinely, for being patient and for the love you have shown this story - I truly appreciate it!

Story Summary:

Eternal…

life.

reincarnation.

silence.

and chains.

For 3,000 long and painful years, these four have been doing all they can to lift their curses. They have failed, again and again and again. With only a sliver of hope left, they try once more.

Or, what if Zeldris accepted Meliodas’ offer to go with him 3,000 years ago?

King’s eyes were wide, and his voice caught in his throat. But even if he wanted to say anything, he had no words. All he managed was a strangled gasp before he heard the distorted and so, so painfully familiar voice of his baby sister come from the lights.

“Ban, what happened? How did you get that scar?”

She didn’t even acknowledge him, the lights tilting slightly to the side but still near Ban, still not moving away from the man who should still be petrified.

Ban scoffed and tilted his head King’s way, but didn’t actually look at King. His expression was… if King had to name it, he’d say fond, faux annoyance plastered on his face.

“I thought you guys watched over us from the other side?”

“It… it really is her- Elaine!” King choked out, and he was vaguely aware of Ban glancing at him, but King couldn’t- he just couldn’t be bothered anymore. Not when… “Please, show yourself to me too!”

Ban continued looking at him, and he said something, though King didn’t hear it. It wasn’t too quiet, but everything suddenly seemed muffled, and all that mattered was Elaine. He had to see her again, make up for his mistakes.

The orbs of light swayed slightly, side to side, as if she were shaking her head. King’s heart settled in his throat as tears stung his eyes.

“The Necropolis allows people to see each other even after death, but only through strong emotional bonds.”

He looked down, finally tearing his eyes away from the pair. He couldn’t help but laugh quietly to himself. “So you’re still angry at me… for abandoning you, the forest, and everything we believed in…” King mumbled, feeling the tears collect at the corner of his eyes and trying to blink them away. He clenched his fists, trying to distract himself.

There was an explosion in the distance. The power was almost overwhelmingly familiar, followed by a certainly familiar aura of magic.

“A holy knight?” Ban hissed, whipping around to look in the direction they had come from. King glanced up, seeing the immortal posed to run that way. At this point, King didn’t really care.

Elaine’s voice stopped them both - Ban from running off, and King from continuing to wallow.

“Ban, why did you come here?”

Ban didn’t even turn to face her. He just paused, and even when he began speaking, his face gave nothing away.

“I came to say one thing to you: that I will one day take what is mine.”

Despite his expression never changing, King could only imagine what the man meant by that, and his despair over Elaine refusing to let him see her easily morphed into a rage that heated him to his very core.

“What more could you take from my sister, Ban?!” he snapped, but Ban didn’t even look at him this time. King ground his teeth together, fingers twitching, calling Chastiefol back and about to transform it.

The only reason he stopped was because of Elaine.

“Thank you, Ban.” Her voice was softer than it was before, and King was frozen in his confusion.

Ban didn’t wait a second more, running off towards the remnants of the explosion.

Elaine watched her brother drift to the ground, head hanging, the tears finally slipping down his boyish cheeks. She watched impassively, the only thing she would allow herself to feel regarding her brother.

Too many years she had wasted in sorrow and anger and confusion. He didn’t deserve more than impassion from her.

“Why?” he was whispering, she realized. “What could Ban give you that I can’t? When he’s the reason you died?”

She said nothing, but she did drift closer, if only to hear more of what he would say on the things he had no knowledge of.

“How can you forgive Ban?”

How could she forgive him?

What is there to forgive?

Ban didn’t do anything to her.

…

Well. That’s not true.

Elaine didn’t inhale, because she no longer needed to, but she thinks if she still had to breathe she would have. She let go of the impassion, the indifference. And she let the pain in her heart soul boil to the surface as she stared at her big, foolish brother.

“You left,” she starts. “You left, and I was forced to spend hundreds of years in solitude.” She could hear her voice reverberate off the crystalline walls around them, so far away still. But his breathing had hitched, he was listening, and she could see the moment his heart skipped a beat when she finally addressed him. She could feel the way his heart ached, the pain that plagued it, the pain that he had no right to feel when he left.

The pain was familiar. The pain was her own as much as it was his.

Her next words were clearer, grounded in her instead of around them. His head snapped up.

“Seven hundred years after you abandoned your country, after you abandoned me. And Ban… Ban erased all the loneliness in just seven days. He made those centuries feel like nothing more than a nightmare.”

He couldn’t find words, his mouth opening and closing but not even a stranged sound could escape. She narrowed her eyes, just slightly. He was still her brother, after all, and she would not allow her rage and hurt caused by him to take over her soul. She would not.

“You ask how I can forgive Ban. But I have to ask, how can I forgive you?”

The anguish on his face didn’t bring her any satisfaction. It only sparked a fury in her chest, and she ached with the anger. She took a faux breath, if only to ground herself, and smoothed the glare away, dragging back the indifferent expression to her face.

“You don’t know him, brother. You don’t know him at all.”

Zeldris hauled Meliodas out of the rubble, the brothers hunching behind Gelda a moment later as she blasted one of Guila’s incoming attacks.

“We’re getting nowhere,” Meliodas huffed, “and only being driven back to where Elizabeth ran.”

“We’re getting somewhere,” Zeldris said. “We’re being good distractions.”

“I wouldn’t call you distractions. I haven’t forgotten about Princess Elizabeth,” Guila said from where she stood on a high crystal that Diane had made in an attempt to attack her. “However, I have no intention of passing up the chance of fighting two of the Seven Deadly Sins.” She tilted her head, regarding Gelda and Zeldris with a contemplative frown. “Well, two depowered Sins and their… family, if the reports are to be believed. I must say, it is a mystery as to why two people so seemingly as powerful as the Sins would not have fought alongside them over ten years ago. I must ask-”

“None of your business!” Diane swung a hammer-shaped crystal at the pillar Guila had claimed, forcing the possible holy knight to leap to another. Before she could get her bearings, Diane swung again, aiming for Guila’s feet, and again with every move back she forced Guila.

“Interesting,” Guila mused on the fifth swing, before twisting her body and propelling herself back on Diane’s make-shift hammer. She flipped back and created an explosion beneath herself, bringing her higher than the giant and keeping herself in the air with multiple smaller explosions. The next time Diane swung, there was a warning shout from Zeldris, but it was too late, and Guila blasted the hammer swinging at her with a large ball of flames.

The explosion forced the hammer to swing in reverse, and Diane narrowly avoided being slammed in the head by it, but lost her footing in avoiding the bludgeon. Guila took the opening and barraged her with explosions, and two, three stumbles back, Diane finally crashed.

Guila aimed another explosion at the downed giant, dismissing the fact that Gelda and Zeldris were in front of her. They braced for impact, both Gelda and Zeldris creating a barrier of purple and red flames in front of them and Diane. Guila’s frown deepened and brow furrowed. Something about the aura…

It didn’t matter. The flames would just bolster her power.

She sent the blast forward.

When it made contact, she expected the explosion to absorb the flames and continue on its path, smashing into the three.

It absorbed the flames.

It did not collide.

She had just a second to dodge her own blast.

9 notes · View notes

taradiddled · 6 months ago

Text

I might end up spoiling this chapter with sneak-peeks, but I genuinely do love sharing snippets.

So, here is a snippet where Ada helps put things into perspective for Lucifer about how he's communicating with Charlie.

Heaving all her remaining frustration out in one big sigh, Adam reached out and pulled Lucifer half-way into her lap. Her belly made it a bit difficult to seat him, but Adam managed thanks to Lucifer’s smaller size.

“Okay, goony. No weeping. You didn’t do anything really wrong. You’re just…making some dumb choices." She sighed. "What parent hasn’t done that kind of shit?” She pulled his head towards hers and pressed her lips to the side of his head. Almost instantly, Lucifer’s misery seemed to freeze in place. He leaned into Adam, closing his eyes, soaking in Adam’s touch. Pulling her lips back, Adam took told of Lucifer's chin, turning his head to face hers. His eyes opened, and red eyes once against stared into gold eyes.

“I get that you want to be Charlie’s friend. It’s not a bad thing. But you need to work on being her father first. You can only go up one level at a time, and right now it looks like you’re trying to skip a level.”

Lucifer released a miserable sigh. "I just want us to be able to bond." He put his hands, shaking them. "When we had our Big Talk together months ago, she told me that she appreciates that I'm taking an interest in what she's passionate about. But I'm finding it hard to talk to her without seeing her as that cute little girl who just wanted to spend time with me." He clenched his hands into fists, the expression on his face entirely stuck in uncertainty. "So I thought that, maybe if I talk to her like other kids her age do, then talking with her would be easier."

Huh.

Adam had to admit, Lucifer's thinking (though erroneous) made sense. If Charlie was receptive of Lucifer communicating with her in that manner. Obviously, Charlie was not. Lucifer might have isolated himself for seven years, but his estrangement from Charlie had definitely started long before Lucifer and Lilith's separation. To Adam, Charlie and Lucifer were still in the process of reconnecting, and getting to know each other as they were now, as opposed to who they had been before their estrangement. They were different people. Well, Charlie definitely was a different person, and though Adam hadn't been there when Lucifer and Charlie first reconnected, she could deduce that Lucifer had tried far too hard to appeal to the person Charlie had become in their time apart.

Must have been an absolute shit-show, Adam mused. She could just picture Charlie's unease and uncertainty, and though Charlie and Adam weren't close, Adam had already witnessed how Charlie seemed to struggle-buggle her way through awkward situations. Adam had seen that strained smile, the tense shoulders, and the underlying hesitance and borderline reluctance. But where Adam would have said "fuck this" and bowled her way through if she were in Charlie's place, not caring how the other person in the situation felt, Charlie seemed to not want to cause any hurt feelings. Even if her own feelings were inevitably in forfeit.

Lucifer probably didn't see how his obvert, awkward attempts to connect with Charlie were actually making Charlie uncomfortable. Though it was obvious to Adam, Lucifer had never really been able to see take in the full scope of a situation, when he was setting his entire attention on something. He'd been like that since Eden, when his desire for Lilith had caused him to push Adam to the side, and even ignore Adam's own feelings. He'd been like that when he'd wanted Adam to join his and Lilith's campaign for Free Will, believing that everything would be all right in the end if he could just get Adam to see things how Lucifer saw them.

It was selfish thinking, but it was also...so human.

In Eden, Lilith had been encouraging Lucifer's behavior, so of course he hadn't seen how what he'd been doing was never going to be acceptable, even IF it could have produced the results Lucifer wanted. However, now, unlike Eden, Lucifer had Adam to give him a second point of view. To help Lucifer step back, take a second, third, fourth look, and see the things that Lucifer was missing.

Adam stretched her tail out to wrap about Lucifer's waist, giving him an affectionate squeeze. "She doesn't need you to change yourself, Lucifer. Just talk to her like you would anyone else. Don't baby her. Don't try to be a Cool Dad. Just be yourself. That's the person she is getting to know again, just like you're getting to know the person she is now."

She'd had to learn this her own way, when she'd first reunited with her children in Heaven. Things had changed so much since she'd last seen them on Earth, and they'd also grown even more after Adam had died. Adam had to relearn how to communicate with her family, and adjust how she interacted with them. Shared interests had changed, and Adam learned a thousand new, wonderful things about her family, and came to appreciate them all the same. It'd taken time and effort (as most things do) but it'd made Adam so happy to be able to be with her family and know them again.

Her heart ached as she remembered that they were still in Heaven, most likely still unaware of Adam's true fate.

It's for the better that they don't know, Adam told herself, sucking back her dour emotions of longing. If Michael suspected that they knew anything, he wouldn't hesitate to hold them against me. Or worse. Adam wouldn't put it past Michael to consider Adam's family as acceptable collateral if it ultimately helped him achieve the results he wanted.

Her worry must have been apparent, because she felt Lucifer wrap his own tail about her torso, and his hands gently holding her face. When she focused back on him, his eyes were looking into her own, filled with concern.

"Are you okay, Ada?" he asked, voice soft and gentle.

#from adam to ada

7 notes · View notes

c6jpg · 9 months ago

Text

dainsleif quest

the lore drops. fucking impeccable. but also i feel edged the fuck on. like we learned a liiiiiiiitle but also get 10 thousand unanswered questions as well

that's pretty standard for dainsleif quests though ig

the quest itself. can we even call that a quest it was so anticlimatic ajkdfladjsf like just content-wise i think that genuinely might have been our worst dainsleif quest the lore was CARRYING this shit and all we got was more questions and it felt SO short

as an aside its also criminal how long apart these quests are bc i honestly already kinda forgot what happened in the previous one (caribert) and i had to like. really use my brain to remember the lore we got then

DAINSLEIF BROTHER????????????

just in general like. my mind was exploding when we were talking about the five sinners of khaenri'ah. i want to learn more about them so bad

"i'll tell you all you want to know" YOU'RE NOT TELLING US ENOUGH DAINSLEIF ELABORATE

WE DESERVED A PROPER DAINSLEIF VS ABYSS TWIN ANIMATED FIGHT CUTSCENE. HOW DARE YOU JUST FADE TO BLACK ARE YOU KIDDINGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG

ngl when we first saw caribert i actually thought this might be dainsleif's brother and i was like NOOOOOOOOOO THEY CAN'T NPC DAIN'S BRO

i just KNOWWW his brother is gonna be so sexy whenever they reveal him. sorry i had to say it. anyways.

caribert man... his whole deal honestly felt like a sidequest within the quest but that was sad :(

not to be a #scarastan but i was just thinking so hard about the parallels between caribert and scara, implanting vs removing oneself from the memories of the world. both doing it to bring comfort to others, even if futile. i'm not smart enough to expand on this but i'm sure yall know what i mean

anyways okay. so the loom of fate can weave ley lines, that name makes sense now. now can literally anybody please explain what the fuck yall want to do with it

honestly the twin reunion scene felt kinda. idk. flat? like i was more hyped about the abyss twin vs dainsleif part kadjlsflds (speaking of which the way dain clenched his fist lmaooooooo i was just thinking of that one arthur meme)

i do love the detail that the twins call each other by their canon names though

was kind of 🙄 when we got hit with the "yeah btw you won't remember any of this once we're out of here." okay plot convenience

actually is it even plot convenience? like literally what harm would there have been of the traveler remembering???? what are they gonna do???? the only actionable thing of substance we learned was that the loom of fate was completed which dainsleif should have figured out anyways since he got the eye taken from him????????

actually i think it was great that dainsleif got bamboozled though. dude has been carried by plot armor for too long

sea of flowers mention interesting (i have no thoughts on this just interesting esp since i'm pretty sure that's the place shown in the teyvat trailer)

so basically confirmed the heavenly principles are asleep/inactive for some reason. idr if it was explicitly mentioned before. i actually DID wonder why we didn't get some celestia nail action smiting after all the shit that happened in fontaine, a lot of people thought that was gonna happen too with the whole celestia is floating right over fontaine

and then we wake up and the quest just ends??? LET ME TALK TO DAIN HELLO

also like. why did dain want to confront the abyss twin again??? maybe it was mentioned in an earlier quest and if so i forgot but either way i don't understand wtf dain was up to by luring the abyss twin out

no literally that felt like half a quest

objectively i think that quest kinda sucked but i will forgive it solely because of the lore drops no matter how tiny they were and bc i did really like caribert's story

#genshin spoilers #4.7 spoilers #0.txt

13 notes · View notes

elijahkelly · 1 year ago

Text

2/21/2024

Probably the last time I update here. At least for a while. I have a hunch that someone who was asked to respect my privacy and not look at this content has violated my trust. If that's the case, and said individual is reading this now, the damage is irreparable. You've gone against my wishes and really proven to me that I will never have a shred of privacy again for as long as I live. So I'm just going to say my piece and be on my way. And if you're reading this like I think you are and like you know you shouldn't be, you better read every fucking word.

I don't think I care about my life anymore. At least not right now. Not in a suicidal sense, but more in a "my existence is inconsequential and unimportant" kind of way. I don't contribute to the world in a way that matters. When I observe the people around me, I see how they interact, how they love and care for one another, how they want each other around, how they need each other for stability. I see them inviting each other to things, genuinely wanting to spend as much time with one another as possible. I see love, camaraderie, belonging, and happiness. But what l don't see is myself playing any of those roles for anyone. I feel inconsequential, irrelevant, invisible. No one needs or wants me for any of those reasons.

My mind can't help convince me that when it comes to myself, nobody in my life has a sense of object permanence. I only exist when I'm being directly observed. I only matter when I'm in the room. More specifically, I only matter when I'm making people laugh. My only value comes from humor. If I'm not cracking jokes, I might as well not be there. No one cares about what's going on behind the facade, no one is interested in who Eli is. I think that's why l've devoted myself to caring so much about my own personal details. Nobody else seems to care, so l'm forced to compensate. I write down things that happen that I want to remember because nobody else will remember for me. I write about myself because nobody else seems to care enough to pay attention. It feels like the only person who cares about any details about me is myself, and I'm only doing it because someone has to. So am I doomed to be the only one that cares about myself until I'm gone? What kind of life is that?

I'm the cruelest joke of all.

I'm isolated from two of my closest friends, two people who did so well to actually make me feel like I belong on this earth. They don't like Dylan and Dylan doesn't like them. They aren't welcome in his apartment. He doesn't want to hear me talk about them. He rolls his eyes and says "oh" when he sees me texting one of them. To the extent that I feel guilty for talking to, interacting with, and at this point even thinking about them. I don't even know what happened at this point.

What I do know is that the person I love most in the world is keeping me from being around two people who make me feel like my existence matters. He insists that he's not stopping me from seeing them, which is true in a physical sense, but he is stopping me from seeing them in a psychological sense. Of course I'm going to harbor guilt about wanting to see people that he doesn't like. Of course there's going to be mental dissonance about loving people who aren't welcome in your boyfriend's apartment. It's gotten to the point where Dylan's winning; I don't see them anymore, we barely talk, and I know they spend a lot of time together without me. I'm losing them, if they aren't lost already.

I am on Dylan's team. I'm devoted to him. But I'd be lying if I smiled and pretended that it doesn't hurt to lose two people who I love so much. My heart aches because I feel them slipping through my fingers like sand. No matter how hard I clench my fists together the grains still find a way to fall through. Is this what I get for seeking autonomy? Trying to establish an identity outside of my relationship? When I met them, I wanted my friendship with them to be distinct from my other friends, who knew me through Dylan and think of me as secondary to him. Now they aren't welcome here. Is it a coincidence? Is my individuality being snuffed out? Am I fated to be a trophy partner? To sit on a shelf and smile and crack jokes when people look at me?

I don't think this is what it feels like to be loved. To belong. To be appreciated. To be wanted. Valued. Considered. Cared for. Remembered. This can't be what it feels like.

Am I happy? Am I doing this correctly? Nobody told me how to do this or what it's supposed to be like. I'm just a scared kid. I don't have instructions or a guideline to follow, I'm just a 21 year old. What do I do? How do I navigate this? Do I give up? Do I stop caring? Concede? Will I feel better once my brain stops developing? I still have some maturing to do. Are my fears and doubts a product of my immaturity? Or are they logical? Based in reason? How am I supposed to find the answers to all of this? It's horrifying, and the pressure is crushing me.

I hope to update here again someday. I hope to have more trust in my heart when that happens. I hope to have resolve over this turmoil. I hope to have grown and reached understanding. I hope there will be a next midnight in Paris.

Let me know when you're done reading.

Bye.

0 notes

limetameta · 1 year ago

Note

Fanfic asks for askers

1- My favorite fic of yours Riza as the Flame Alchemist!! You already know how crazy I am about it but my god, it HAUNTS me. The POSSIBILITIES!! The WRITING and THEMES! The ANGST! THE KIMBLIZA AAAAAAA

5- No specific one jumps to mind, but I like Harry Potter and your famous rarepair has interesting characters, so I’ve always wanted to try one out! With your extensive catalogue of fics about them I’m sure I’ll find something I’ll end up adoring, I’ve been keeping it as a cozy afternoon plan for when I need it

6 & 7 together: That chapter in Metallic Crimson with Edward drugged and on the verge of death. For better or for worse it’s the story beat that immediately comes to mind whenever I think about MC, my god. I am still devastated that chapter did THINGS to me Limeta you don’t understand

10- And that ties nicely with the previous question. I never expected to be interested in Kimblee & Edward as a duo whatsoever, looking back there’s def interesting material from canon to play with for their dynamic, but I just never cared fr fr. A big part of your FMA fics focus on these two’s relationship to each other and it’s so cool!!! Kimblee caring for a kid? Unheard of. Edward grappling with moral ambiguity? Unthinkable. They are so cool together and unexpectedly heartwarming and interesting to follow. Just make them hug already

8- What I like the most about your writing is a tough question, I’d say overall it’s your sense of pacing! Idk how to say it except how very well-made your fics are. The atmosphere is always on point, the humor is genuinely very fun, the prose is haunting and visceral sometimes, the imagery is often so poetic both in execution and concept, but maybe the most impressive of all is how you tie all of this up so seamlessly together! Your fics always make for very easy reads that swiftly brings u along for an adventure and that’s very cool. Oh!! Also you explore a very wide range of themes and ambiances, like there’ll be fics that are so fluffy and simple and slice of life yippee, and then next to that you’ll have a fic about how alcoholism impacts someone and one about cultural elitism and the very serious political and social issues ensuing, and it’s genuinely touching and well done and has something to say! Very interesting and in depth, coherent original worldbuilding too. You also make me care about ocs and chars I normally don’t care for, so kudos on that. Aghhhh what can I say, I’m a fan. I am playdough between your mastermind typing fingers, you can make me feel anything you intend so easily and you never fail

11- More kimbliza fluff. Make them in love. Make them be cute and sweet 🙏🙏 Also them bantering and razzing each other but I scavenge your Tumblr for those interactions snippets enough that I feel decently satiated on that front. Who else is gonna write my needed dose of kimbliza? Me? Haha you jokester you

12- I always reread a bit when I write up my long comments, but I don’t often reread fics fully. I also often bookmark your fics and write my favorite bit on it so I can go and reread those parts. But I can def see myself doing full rereads in the future too, usually I reread some fav fics every year or so. Or to get back in the kimbliza writing headspace also, your fics are def perfect for that 🙏

13- Oh yeah for sure. I don’t have many friends into FMA alas, but I force my mom whom I get along very well with to read fanfics I really like and want others to read + have someone to talk about it with lol, and lemme tell you the level of harassment I used for her to read RFA… I’m still trying to get her to read MC though -clenches fist- one day…

9- RFA please…. Please…. Plea-

Tbh I SHOULD update RFA it's just that I kind of got scared that it might be so fucked up people wouldn't like it but if Noda sensei can write a sperm fight in golden kamuy and still have me invested perhaps I, too, can have Riza Hawkeye traumatize us all just a little more than she already has.

I'll write RFA. I will!! I know how it ends!! It's just that I have to write a lot of action and I kinda suck ass at action

Miku. Miku please read Awareness if you're gonna read my HP fics. Please give that story some love it is forgotten and nobody has read it in years. I love that fic to bits. It's one of the most darling stories I've written. Is in my head rent free. I think about chapter 10 of that story almost every week.

But if you want Abraxas Malfoy then definitely read Retired Prometheus. If you want worldbuilding on par with MC? Then Retired Prometheus is for you! And luckily for you, it's finished. I mean awareness is too but RP is like chefs kiss.

All of MC began because I wanted to ask the question: what if Kimblee found Edward and Alphonse? But then the more I wrote the more I asked myself What if Edward and Alphonse got to know Kimblee?

To me their dynamic is the most fascinating in MC. That level of hidden trust between them continues to endear itself to me. Edward can say shit all he likes and Kimblee can tease him about his childishness all he likes but the both of them understand on a fundamental level that they are both deserving of respect and that they do respect each other as alchemists first and foremost and then as allies. We do get the former in Canon but the latter is interesting to further delve into. Though Kimblee did save Edward's life with Pride in Canon so!! I just built on that :D

Also miku, did you read the re-done Fullmetal Lotus? It's got 3 chapters now and like 10k more words. Definitely more of Kimblee and Ed being a duo. Plus some self indulgent Kimbliza (CURSE U MAES HUGHES U DONT KNOWNHOW DELICIOUS THE KIMBLIZA IS IN MC)

#ask

0 notes

amaya-writes · 3 years ago

Note

h from sfw for shiggy and dabi as just meeting the league and how they would react to their s/o being around them

Ask 17 for the Game: Meeting the League (Masterlist)

H - Home (you meet their family/found family/friends/teammates)

Notes: I was going to do drabbles for this but then I ended up thinking of too many things and it turned into headcanons

Warnings: lowkey dark/yandere themes

Characters involved: Shigaraki and Dabi, mentions Jin and Toga.

Gender-neutral reader, you/yours

Shigaraki Tomura

It's likely that you'll actually end up meeting the league at one point or another.

Whether it be because they stumbled upon your room after he kidnapped you or just because they're nosy enough to have a chance encounter that wasn't really by chance.

Shigaraki is really wary at first, and absolutely hates the idea of you associating with villains. Well, villains who weren't him.

If you're genuinely just scared to be around the others then he's quick to shun them and ensure you will never see them again.

However, if you're casual around them then he doesn't really know how to act.

He tries, and succeeds in, making them go away and then ranting about how you shouldn't be around them, but that doesn't stop them from coming back.

It gets to the point where he just sighs in annoyance every time he sees Jin or Toga around his/your room, but he doesn't do much to get rid of them. Just sort of stands there near the doorway like an attack dog on standby.

He secretly loves it though.

The league is his only semblance of a family, which is why in a way he's delighted to know that you're willing to accept and even befriend them.

He's still very wary and hates when they intrude on your alone time almost as much as he hates when they visit you when he's not around, but Tomura sort of learns to deal with it.

Very clingy when they're around though.

HATES the idea of you being around Dabi. Just completely loathes it.

So much so the three of you just cannot be in the same room without Dabi instigating things and Tomura biting back until there's enough tension for them to kill each other.

Tomura doesn't even know why, or well, actually he does, he can actually write an entire book about why, but he just doesn't want you around Dabi.

He also feels some sort of need to claim you as his whenever Dabi is around so be ready for a lot of sudden PDA.

Not even the lovey-dovey kind, just lowkey makes out with you on the kitchen counter while Dabi's watching from the couch just because the idiot said Tomura couldn't get some without threatening you.

Dabi

Actually minds a lot.

Look, Dabi has had a total of two 'families' in his life, and both of them were pretty fucked up, which is why he wants you to stay away from both.

However, that obviously isn't going to happen if Toga and Jin have anything to say about it.

The annoying part is that you don't even realise it's them. That you just offhandedly state two blonds who were his friends dropped by earlier and you hung out for a bit and it was fun.

It's the fact that they had the audacity to just show up.

That, however, will be dealt with after he picks your brain about how stupid you can be to let people in, especially if they know him.

Do you just know nothing about who he is outside of the four walls of your apartment, is that all?

Dabi would never kidnap you, he doesn't have to, after all, your situation is pretty much like him holding you hostage in your own house.

Except you fell for him.

Dabi would never admit it, but he cares for you deeply. So much so that he just can't fathom losing you at all.

He knows the league isn't a risk, but he can't help but feel his heart race and fists clench when he sees you smoke on the balcony with Jin or go shopping with Toga.

The fact that you're so casual with them is what scares him the most. Because Dabi knows the fact that they aren't nearly as bad as him is what makes you so comfortable around them, but in a way that is also what scares him.

Sure, they're not as strong as him, but you're certainly weaker than them.

The fact that you let them in shows as much.

Yet somehow, when he sees you look genuinely happy when they show up, he can't help but let you be around them.

He allows you to have that part of him, to explore a side of his life that he is hellbent on keeping away from you. And somehow, he finds it in himself to hope that once sparks turn to fires and friendships show their malicious intents, you'll find it in yourself to stay.

Not like he'll give you a choice.

330 notes · View notes

obeymeoasis · 4 years ago

Text

Demon Bros React: MC Defends Them From Nasty Remarks

Warnings: Explicit language, MC being mildly violent (throwing/kicking things).

Lucifer

Lucifer had just finished some paperwork for Diavolo and was on his way to R.A.D to deliver it.

In the hallway he could hear two demons talking and laughing. As he got closer he heard them say "Lucifer" and instinctively ducked into a nearby alcove.

"Lucifer's such an asshole." "I know, right? He acts like he's so much better than the rest of us when really, he just has a huge stick up his ass. It's no wonder he doesn't have any friends. Even his own brothers don't like him!" "He'll probably spend the rest of his life being Diavolo’s little bitch."

He would be lying if the comments didn't make him angry. But it was far from the worst thing he had heard about himself and would definitely not be the last time someone spoke ill of him.

With a weary sigh, Lucifer turned toward the south entrance where he could walk in order to avoid the demons. He could have strode past and glared at them menacingly. He could have made them grovel on their knees. But he was honestly exhausted and looked forward to this day being over as soon as possible. Plus, it would reflect poorly on Lord Diavolo if he started a fight with some lesser demons over this.

Suddenly, the chatter of the demons was interrupted by a loud thumping sound followed by the sound of one of the demons screeching in pain.

Lucifer quickly turned around to see- Oh no. You were standing in front of the demons, rage clear on your face. The demon who had yelled in pain was crouched on the ground holding his bruised shoulder. A History of the Devildom textbook was open on the ground, pages crumpled.

Did you... did you just throw a textbook at a demon?

Before he could even move, he heard your angry voice. "Listen here you fuckers. How dare you talk about Lucifer like that. He's one of the kindest, most intelligent, most thoughtful beings I've ever met. And you have no right to speak of him like that! I love him!"

Lucifer's heart burst at your declaration, his cheeks warming in pleasure. The two demons however, who had been gaping at you in shock, were now beginning to look murderous. The injured one stood up and slowly inched toward you, a vicious grin on his face. "Oh, is that so? And what the hell is a weak human like you going to do about it?"

You opened your mouth to speak but before you could say anything, Lucifer picked you up and threw you over his shoulder. "Love, I appreciate how you stood up for me. There's not many people who have done so for me before. But any more would cause trouble. And also, please don't throw textbooks at others, no matter how much you think they deserve it."

With a smug smile on his face, Lucifer began to walk toward the dorms. You, however, were struggling to turn your head around, still yelling and pointing angrily at the demons. "This isn't over! Sleep with your eyes wide open! You'll be hearing from my lawyer!"

He really did love you.

Mammon

Mammon was at the casino on a Monday night. It was lively as always, crowds of people playing group games and others drinking and mingling.

But for some reason, Mammon felt like being alone. He was in one of the more quiet corners, playing the slot machines.

He honestly should have been back at the dorms doing his homework. He was here because he felt like he had to, but his heart wasn't really in it. Mammon thought about packing it up early and texting you to see if you wanted to hang out.

The sudden sound of glass shattering broke through his thoughts. There was some sort of commotion going on and Mammon could hear angry yelling and cursing, some kind of argument.

Like many of the other customers, Mammon drifted toward the noise wanting to see what had happened. His heart sank when he saw you in the middle of the crowd, still in your R.A.D uniform, arguing with an older demon who Mammon recognized as a regular. They had played some games together before that always ended in angry accusations. The remains of a drinking glass lay shattered on the floor.

Mammon quickly rushed to your side. "MC, what the hell are you doing here?! What happened?" Up close he could see how livid you looked, you were trembling with fury.

The older demon opened his mouth while gesturing at his ruined clothes. "This bitch threw a drink at me! I should have them arrested! Do you know how much this tuxedo costs?" Ignoring him, you turned to face Mammon.

"Mams, Lucifer told me to check up on you and you weren't answering my calls. So I decided to come in person to make sure you were okay. But then I heard this asshole saying terrible things about you to his friends, calling you a liar and a cheater and all kinds of horrible names that you're not!"

Mammon was shocked to see you were struggling to fight off your tears, your lower lip quivering. "I know how caring and genuine and loving you are and I couldn't stand by while he said those things about you! None of it’s true!"

Overcome with emotion Mammon embraced you fiercely, shielding you from the other demon. "Oh, babe. Ya really are a special one.” Mammon gently stroked your hair and whispered in your ear. “I don't care about what he said, but thanks for sticking up for me. I love ya so much."

"Now let's make a run for it so that demon doesn't kill us."

Leviathan

Levi was slowly getting used to being in a relationship with you in public. At first, interactions were limited to the privacy of his room: cuddling and watching movies, gaming together, reading manga together. But now he looked forward to waiting for you after classes and walking home with you while holding hands.

His face got really red and he had a hard time making eye contact with you but still, he thought it was an improvement.

Right now he was waiting for you outside your classroom, scrolling through his D.D.D to kill time. Suddenly, he heard someone call your name.

“MC, you’re dating Levi right?” At the sound of his name he peeked in the window to see you cornered by three demons. He saw you nod.

The demons began to barrage you with questions. “Why are you with a loser like that? Doesn’t he like never leave his room?” “He’s honestly the ugliest out of his family. I don’t believe that Levi and Asmo are related.” “You don’t actually find him attractive, do you?” “Are you with him ‘cause he’s like the easiest to control?”

Each word felt like someone was piercing his heart. These were all things that he had thought or wondered himself, days when the darkness seemed to win over his mind. But to have them spoken out loud, especially in front of you, it was unbearable. It was as if his lowest and most shameful thoughts were being justified.

He was afraid to hear what your answers would be. Biting his lower lip, Levi turned to head home by himself but flinched at the loud sound of something slamming into the wall. He peeked inside the window again and saw you standing there, furious, your hands clenched into fists. You had apparently kicked one of the desks into the wall, black scuff marks clearly visible against the white paint.

“Alright, listen here you despicable fucks because I’m only going to say this once. My relationship with Levi is private, meaning all of your questions can be answered with ‘none of your damn business’. But since you’ve gone out of your way to waste my time, I’ll let you know this: Leviathan is more beautiful, inside and out, than any of you will ever be in your entire miserable lives. I honestly don’t think you deserve to breathe the same air as him and I hope Levi summons Lotan to devour the three of you."

Levi’s jaw was on the floor. He had never heard you speak that way. He had never had someone defend him so fiercely. His thoughts were interrupted by the classroom door suddenly slamming open as you walked out."

“Oh Levi, tell me you didn’t hear anything just now.” Your eyes were wide and you looked at him nervously.

Levi grabbed your hand and held it tight between two of his own. “I did, but it’s alright. Thanks for what you said.”

“Anything for my Lord of Shadows.”

Satan

Satan was heading to the library, your usual after-school spot. Some days you two spent hours there doing homework, reading, or just chatting quietly about your day before heading to dinner.

As he approached the table he saw you sitting down with a stranger seated opposite you. Leaning closer he was relieved to see it was a classmate you were friendly with, someone he knew you hung out with occasionally.

Satan was about to say hello when he stopped at the mention of his name. "MC, are you sure it's wise to be this involved with Satan?"

He quickly ducked behind a nearby bookshelf. Satan usually wasn't one to eavesdrop like this but the question concerned him.

"MC, I'm asking you for your sake. Satan is dangerous. He's violent and cruel. There are rumors about him beating up other demons and doing horrible things to them. What if he tries to hurt you too?"

Satan flinched. Sure his wrath had led him to do some destructive things before, but it was never without reason. Is this how you saw him as well? His thoughts began to spiral. What if you grew scared of him? Of his wrath? What if you flinched at his touch? That would hurt more than any of the rumors that swirled about him.

Satan saw you take a deep breath before speaking. "Well, I appreciate you talking to me about this. I know you meant the best and were just thinking about me. But I promise you, you have nothing to be worried about. Satan would never hurt me."

He saw your friend shake their head, exasperated. "But you don't know that! What if one day he can't control himself and has an outburst or something?"

You replied carefully. "Satan is gentle. Incredibly so. He always treats me with nothing but respect and kindness. And Satan's not some kind of monster. He knows how to control himself and his powers. I love him. I really do. And until he decides to stop loving me, I want to be by his side."

He saw your friend huff irritably and get up to walk away. "Suit yourself, MC. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Satan took this as his cue to walk over. Your eyes brightened at the sight of him and you started to ask him about his day, acting as if nothing had happened. Satan played along for a bit, but then reached across the table for your hand and began playing with your fingers.

His hand was shaking. "I'll never stop loving you, you know. For as long as I live you're the only one for me. I love you, MC."

Asmodeus

Asmo was thrilled when you said you wanted to go dancing with him because he was usually the one pestering you to do things. He was having so much fun with you tonight, twirling you around on the dance floor and marveling how beautiful you looked under the shimmering lights of the club.

He was beginning to feel a bit hot, however, and excused himself to the bathroom, making sure you were safe on of the couches with a bottle of water in your hand.

Asmo had just finished touching up his makeup and adjusting his outfit when he heard two demons near the entrance of the bathroom gossiping loudly about him.

“Did you see what he was wearing tonight? He might as well have come naked instead of wearing those scraps of fabric he thinks counts as an outfit.” “My friend slept with Asmo once. She said he’s super easy, he’s willing to pretty much sleep with anyone.” “I bet him and that human won’t last another week. Once he’s done with them he’ll trash ‘em and move on to the next one, like he always does.”

Being the Avatar of Lust meant that Asmo had heard these kinds of comments before, whispered in the hallways at R.A.D or the dark hallways of nightclubs. It never really got easier listening to them though, and he realized he was biting down hard on his lower lip, his nails digging into his palm.

Asmo contemplated what to do. He didn’t want to keep you waiting by yourself outside but he also didn’t want to run into the demons talking about him. Their comments affected him more than he thought they would. Maybe it was because you were involved. He wouldn’t do that to you. You knew that right? He would never treat you like a plaything.

Taking a deep breath and steeling his nerves Asmo schooled his face into an expression of careless indifference. He took a step outside, ready to greet his "fans", but was surprised to see that you had gotten there first.

And what a sight you were. Despite being much shorter than the two demons, it seemed you were the least bit intimidated. Your glare was ice cold as you gestured wildly at the two of them, and moving closer Asmo realized you were screaming.

"How fucking dare you say such vile things? You don't know the first thing about Asmo. You're really going to shame someone for what they wear?! For what they do in the privacy of their bedroom?!"

You pointed angrily at the demons, who seemed too stunned to move or say anything. "People like you make me fucking sick. You're despicable! Talking as if you're so high and mighty when all you do is judge others! How dare you? You cowards!"

Asmo could see you were getting more and more enraged and your hands were beginning to tremble. He leapt forward to stand between you and the demons and put his hands gently on your shoulders. Once he saw that you were okay, he gave you a passionate kiss, his mouth hot and needy against yours.

You kissed him back for a moment but moved away to hiss, "Karens, Asmo! Karens in the fucking Devildom, who would have thought?!"

"I know, darling. Let's head home. We can have a nice, relaxing bubble bath together."

Beelzebub

Beel was looking through the menu, deciding between a couple of his favorite dishes. It was your one year anniversary and despite his insistent protests, you had remained firm in your decision to pay for that night’s meal. Ever since you and Beel began dating, he pretty much always paid for your meals together because of how much he ate. But tonight, you wanted to be the one to treat him for once.

Beel knew you had secretly been saving up Grimm and he’d feel so guilty if you spent it all on him. Which was why he was trying to decide between a couple of different things, when normally he would have ordered everything on the page.

“Babe, please order whatever you want. I can practically see the thoughts turning in your head. I told you that I wanted to pay for tonight and I’m going to keep that promise. I want this to be a special night for us, so don’t worry about it.” Before he could protest, you called the waiter over.

Beel sighed and knew there was no changing your mind on this. You were incredibly stubborn when you wanted to be. He rattled off his usual order as the waiter frantically scribbled down notes, struggling to keep up. Once finished, Beel handed over the menus and smiled at how cute you looked, a mixture of pride and smugness on your face.

But your expression soon turned sour as you heard the conversation from a couple sitting a few tables over. Their voices were intentionally loud and they kept sneaking glances at your table as if to watch your reactions.

“Oh my lord, honey did you see how much food that guy just ordered? What an absolute pig!” “I saw, darling. I honestly pity his date right now, they must be soooo embarrassed.” “Is there anyone who wouldn’t be ashamed to be seen in public with such a selfish glutton?”

Beel’s heart felt like it had sunk. Embarrassed? Was MC embarrassed to be seen with him? Panicking, Beel thought back to all of the dates he’d had with MC so far. He realized that they ate out a good majority of the time they hung out, with Beel eating his normal enormous portions each time. Oh no, what had he done?

Head bowed, Beel slowly looked up at you, afraid to see what kind of expression you were making. But to his surprise, you didn’t look embarrassed or ashamed at all. You looked like you were going to murder someone.

He watched as you cleared your throat and then began speaking even more loudly than the couple had been. “OH BEEL, MY HANDSOME, KIND, LOVING, STRONG, SEXY, TALENTED BOYFRIEND. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH! YOU’RE HONESTLY SO AMAZING AND ONE OF THE QUALITIES I LOVE ABOUT YOU MOST IS THAT YOU’RE NOT A JUDGMENTAL ASSHOLE WHO MAKES RUDE INAPPROPRIATE COMMENTS TO STRANGERS ABOUT THINGS THAT ARE NONE OF THEIR DAMN BUSINESS!”

Beel felt his lips inch into a smile and he flushed with amusement and happiness. But you weren’t finished just yet. “EXCUSE ME WAITER?”

Your waiter practically ran to the table and looked between you two nervously, then at the couple glaring daggers in your direction. “COULD YOU PLEASE BRING US ANOTHER MENU? MY BOYFRIEND WASN’T FINISHED WITH ORDERING WHAT HE WANTS. OH BEEL, I LOVE HOW MUCH YOU EAT. HOW COULD SOMEONE BE EMBARRASSED OF A WONDERFUL GUY LIKE YOU?”

Beel took the menu and began listing some more foods at random, not really paying attention. He was too busy thinking about how much he loved you, how nobody aside from Belphie had ever stood up for him like that, had protected him like that. His cheeks felt like they were about to split from how much he was smiling.

When the waiter finally left, looking frazzled, Beel made his way over to your side of the table. He knelt down and nuzzled into your neck before giving you a tender kiss on your forehead. “MC, you’re amazing.”

Belphegor

Belphie had to admit, the gardens were a pretty nice place for a nap. Earlier in the day you had practically dragged him outside claiming that you were bored of sleeping in his room. As if that was even possible.

At first he was pretty annoyed that you were making him get up and move around. But the newly washed picnic blanket, the cool breeze rustling through the trees, and the light smell of flowers in the air all contributed to a very nice environment for a nap.

Belphie rested his head on your lap, already feeling his eyelids growing heavier. Your fingers gently combed through his hair, lightly scratching against his scalp, and he practically purred.

He guessed he had been asleep for about ten minutes when he awoke to the sound of your voice and something prodding against his knee.

Irritated at the disturbance, Belphie looked up to see two R.A.D students he recognized for always causing trouble. He looked over to see you scowling and guessed you had been telling them to leave so they wouldn't wake him up.

One of the students leered down, blocking out the light, and used the tip of his foot to poke Belphie's knee again. "Well the two of you make an odd fucking pair, huh?” He sneered, “Personally, I don’t date people who have MURDERED me in the past but what do I know? Love works in all kinds of mysterious ways.” You flinched as if someone had slapped you and Belphie growled, his hands curling into fists.

The other student leaned down to clap Belphie on the shoulder. “I gotta admit I didn’t know you had it in you, chief! I always thought you were...” He gave Belphie a once-over before adding “Well, everyone thinks you’re a bit fucking useless, eh? But I’m glad to see you’re capable of something.”

Belphie opened his mouth to reply venomously but was interrupted by the most horrifying sound coming from your mouth. It sounded like a combination of wailing and screeching as fat tears rolled down your cheeks. It was difficult to hear what exactly you were saying because of how hard you were crying, but Belphie could make out “How could you say that?!” and “Leave him alone!” among the screams.

The two students had their hands over their ears, their faces twisted into grimaces of pain. One shouted, “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Worried, Belphie put a hand on your shoulder in an attempt to calm you down but you shrugged it off, continuing to cry and wail. Pretty soon other students began gathering around you, whispering amongst themselves and looking to see what all the noise and commotion was about. It was difficult to ignore you when you kept yelling things like “You’re horrible! Horrible! Leave us alone!”

The two instigators looked at each other for a brief moment before deciding to run off, not wanting to get involved any further. And as soon as they left, it was like a switch had been turned off. You stopped crying and screaming immediately. If he hadn’t been there from the beginning, Belphie never would have guessed that you had been crying. Your face was perfectly calm and you sat relaxed with your hands folded, the picture of innocence.

“Belphie, don’t worry about what those two idiots said. We’ve talked about it enough and we’ve both worked it out, haven’t we? And you’re not useless. You know how much I love you and care about you. You mean so much to me.”

Belphie leaned over to take your hand in his trembling one. He reached down to brush a stray leaf out of your hair before whispering, “MC, you’re fucking terrifying sometimes. I love you.”

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me hcs #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey levi #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me beel #obey me belphie #om! headcanons #om! hcs #obey me! shall we date?#obey me!

1K notes · View notes

densi-mber · 2 years ago

Text

Unforgettable

A/N: This takes place post season seven.

***

“So, what did your mom want?” Kensi asked, snatching an onion ring off Deeks’ plate. Knowing she’d slowly work her way through them, Deeks pushed half of the remaining portion onto her plate. At one point, it would have annoyed her that Deeks knew her so well, but now it made her love him even more.

They’d been gifted a long weekend from Hetty, so they’d decided to make the most of the time and visit a new restaurant in the neighborhood.

“Eh, she had a disagreement with her roofer and now she wants me to intercede,” Deeks answered with a roll of his eyes. “I swear she thinks I’m her personal attorney, even though I keep reminding her that I haven’t practiced in years. At least not regularly.”

“I guess you should be glad it’s not another boyfriend.”

Deeks accepted her point with a nod of his head. He didn’t look thrilled by the reminder.

“Yeah, definitely not looking forward to the next surprise double date. At least the last guy was reasonably normal. Which isn’t saying much.” He shook his head before Kensi could ask. “You don’t want to know. I already told you about the guy who tried to build a bunker in her house.”

Kensi patted his hand sympathetically. For all her own struggles with her mom, there was something to be said for Julia’s overall normalcy. Sure, Julia could be pushy and nosey when she wanted, but she didn’t have the dramatic and eccentric tendencies of Roberta.

“Alright, so no more talk about your mom,” Kensi surmised.

“I appreciate that.”

“Oh, did I tell you I heard back about that conference in August? The one on bilingualism. They asked me to present.”

“That’s amazing,” Deeks said, leaning across the table to kiss her. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks. It’s going to be extra work, but I’m kind of looking forward to it. Maybe you can take a few days and come with me.”

Deeks snorted at that. “I’m sure Hetty will love that idea. Maybe I can—”

He stopped mid-sentence, his his gaze shifting, beyond her. His eyes remained focused somewhere beyond her shoulder for another second and then he blinked, shaking off whatever had distracted him.

“Babe?”

“Sorry, I just thought I saw someone I recognized,” he insisted, flashing her a quick smile. It seemed forced, not crinkling the corners of his eyes the way a genuine smile did. He almost look…unnerved. Which was unusual in and of itself.

He resumed the conversation, but she saw his eyes flick away every so often.

After the fifth time, she sighed in exasperation, and turned around, following his gaze to the corner booth. Two women sat opposite each other, one a brunette and the other a blonde. They seemed deep in conversation.

“Who is she?”

“Kens…”

Kensi turned back, frowning at Deeks as he started to wave off her question.

“Deeks, you can’t stop looking at that table, and you’re obviously nervous. She nodded to his hand which he’d just lifted to brush his bangs off his forehead. He immediately dropped it to the table, looking slightly caged in. “So why are you staring at those women?”

He sighed, dropping his head to stare at his loosely clenched fist. With the other hand, he started spinning a cardboard coaster.

“The one facing away from us is Sylvia Gray. My ex,” he answered, his voice low.

“The one you have a—?” She could hear the shock in her own voice.

“A restraining order against, yeah.” He nodded, then amended, eyes still focused on the table, “Well had. It expired last year.”

“Deeks!” Kensi murmured, vaguely horrified. She’d never known more beyond his explanation that it was a “bad breakup”, but she knew it couldn’t be a simple fight if Deeks had gone so far as to involve the police. “Why would you let it expire?”

“Kens, it’s not a big deal,” he insisted, and she wondered if he was trying to convince himself too.

“Deeks, you know what happens when people no longer have those restrictions in place.”

“Yeah, when it comes to violent, repeat offenders. But this is not that kind of situation. I haven’t even seen her since I filed the restraining order.”

Kensi shook her head in disbelief. Only Deeks would defend a person who had done him harm.

“So, you think it’s a complete coincidence that she ended up at the same place as you?” Kensi asked, and Deeks shrugged.

“Probably. It is a small world after all. Can we just enjoy the rest of our dinner? I promise I won’t get distracted again.

She didn’t like it, but it wasn’t like she could force Deeks to change his mind. He could be just as stubborn as she was. Most importantly, she needed to trust him to make the right decision. “Ok,” she agreed, squeezing his hand.

Their waiter brought their entrees a few minutes later, and they spent the next half hour enjoying the food while the discussion turned to what they should do with the extra bedroom. By the time Deeks had finished a very articulate defense for converting it to a workout room, Kensi had almost forgotten about Sylvia.

“Get me another beer,” she requested as she stood to go to the bathroom. She gave Deeks a quick kiss, snatching the last onion ring. “And a basket of fried mozzarella.”

There was a small line outside the ladies’ room, and then a young drunk girl needed help getting her strappy shirt untangled. Kensi finally escaped about ten minutes later.

As she walked back to their table, she saw Deeks was no longer alone. Sylvia sat across from him. Even without having seen her head on before, Kensi knew it was her. Her arms were crossed on the table, and from this distance, Kensi could see her lips moving rapidly though she couldn’t hear anything. Deeks sat with his back hunched, Kensi stilled, not certain if she should intrude.

This was completely unchartered territory for her; normally, she’d charge in without thought to the outcome. Somehow this felt different. Whatever Deeks had shared with Sylvia went deeper than she’d realized.

The decision was made for her a minute later, when Sylvia reached for Deeks’ hand, her voice rising sharply at the same time. Deeks’ visibly straightened, and he tugged his arm back, but Sylvia didn’t let go.

By the time Kensi reached them, several people were looking their way. Kensi glared at the closest table until the couple sitting there hastily turned away.

“Sylvia, this isn’t the place for this,” she heard Deeks say, still speaking in a hushed, private tone. To anyone else, he might have appeared completely calm and collected, but Kensi saw the tension in his body.

“You can’t make me leave,” she shot back. She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. When Sylvia opened her eyes again, she looked calmer. “Marty, I just want to talk.”

The way her nails dug into Deeks’ skin said otherwise. They were so focused on each other, they didn’t notice Kensi standing a few feet away.

Up close, Sylvia looked older than Kensi had anticipated. Grayish shadows framed her eyes, and though her clothes were high quality, they hung on her thin frame. Overall, she looked kind of careworn.

“Well I don’t. I told you whatever we had was over long ago, and bringing it up again won’t change anything.”

“Maybe I want to apologize. You know, I never got that chance.” Her tone left no doubt who she blamed for missing that opportunity.

“Sylvia, what happened the last time we were together,” Deeks said, pausing for a moment. “Was not healthy. It’s not something that you can come back from, and as much as I want you to be happy, and successful, I don’t want to reestablish any form of a relationship with you.”

“Then why did you let the restraining order lapse?” she asked helplessly.

“Because I didn’t want to keep holding what happened over your head. You deserve to live your life, and so do I. I don’t want to go back to LAPD, but if you don’t leave me alone, I will,” Deeks told her bluntly.

Sylvia’s face caved, expression turning desperate. “Marty, please.”

“I think it’s time for you to go,” Kensi interceded. Sylvia jerked, eyeing Kensi with wary recognition. When Kensi dropped her eyes to where she still clung to Deeks, Sylvia hastily snatched her hand back.

“Kens, it’s ok,” Deeks said, though he looked relieved nonetheless.

Sylvia lifted her chin stubbornly, apparently not ready to give in. There was a dangerous tenacity Kensi recognized, and it made her skin crawl “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Maybe not, but I’m overprotective. You need to leave now.”

As Sylvia leaned back, clearly intimated by Kensi’s couched threat, the woman she sat with earlier came over, looking deeply uncomfortable.

“Sylvie, I told you this was a bad idea,” she hissed, glancing between Kensi and Deeks. “C’mon, let’s leave before something you can’t fix happens.”

Casting Deeks a final look, she reluctantly stood. “I really am sorry,” she murmured, letting her friend drag her away.

Deeks watched them go, not relaxing until they were actually out of the door. Then he pressed his palms over his eye sockets, exhaling unevenly.

“Are you ok?” Kensi asked, sliding her hand over his forearm. He nodded, running his hands down his face, finally facing her. He looked exhausted.

“Yeah, I just didn’t expect that.”

“I kind of got that. You want to tell me what happened with here?”

“No.” He chuckled humorously, folding his hands in front of him. His food lay forgotten, probably cold by now, and Kensi was pretty certain he wouldn’t be eating it tonight.

“I met Sylvia shortly after I decided to quit law. She was getting her Master’s in physical therapy. We met at a friend’s party, and we hit it off. The first couple of months we were casual,” Deeks paused, eyes distant. “Somewhere in there things sped up really quick. We spent all our time together, which wasn’t much since she had grad classes and I was at the academy.”

“That sounds pretty intense,” Kensi commented, and he sighed again.

“You have no idea. We’d only been dating for about 6-8 months when she started talking about moving in together,” he continued. “I kept finding excuses to put it off, or just ignored the not-so-subtle hints. I tried to keep her happy even though I knew that there as a reason I didn’t want to take the next step. I guess I didn’t feel like dealing with the fallout.”

She tried to imagine a much younger Deeks navigating a rocky relationship. How much had his experience with his father influenced his decision to stay in a relationship in which he wasn’t completely happy.

“Then one day I came home from training, it was probably one in the morning, and Sylvia was there in my apartment. She had a key, but we kind of had a rule that we wouldn’t go to each other’s places if the other one wasn’t there.” Kensi nodded, as he looked to her, maybe for reassurance. “So she’s sitting on my couch with a bunch of papers and I don’t even know what.” His expression turned almost guilty, and he dipped his head briefly. “I snapped and demanded to know what the hell she was doing.”

“And Sylvia, god bless her, snapped right back. She said she knew I’d been cheating on her with someone, one of the strippers I knew. She claimed that was why I was always gone and never had enough time for her.

“I’m not proud of it, but I told her that if she didn’t trust me, then she should just leave, and we were over,” he said.

“Deeks, you did nothing wrong,” Kensi told him, grabbing his shoulder for evidence. Deeks shrugged, looking unconvinced.

“I promised myself I would never raise my voice like that, and yet I turned right to shouting as soon as things got difficult.”

“What happened next?”

Deeks’ jaw tightened even more, his anxiety rising with her question.

“We started shouting at each other. You couldn’t even hear what we were saying. Sylvia threw everything on the table on the floor, and I was so close to losing it, I knew I needed to take a step back. I didn’t pay attention when she followed me into the kitchen, and the next thing, she’d grabbed a knife from the dish rack and started waving it around.”

Kensi barely breathed, completely transfixed. Deeks’ voice had dropped almost to a whisper, gravelly and shaky now.

“I honestly don’t think she fully realized what she was doing. She was so, so angry,” he whispered. “Of course, I was freaking out. I tried all the calming techniques I’d learned, but somehow that’s more effective when you’re not the one with the knife in your face.”

He cleared his throat. “Eventually, I told her she needed to get the hell out or I'd call LAPD. And, uh, that’s when she ran at me.” His hand ran down his bicep, almost subconsciously. “She sliced straight down my arm. Fortunately she didn’t hit anything important.”

“Oh my god, Deeks!” Kensi gasped. He’d let the woman sit a few feet away from him. He offered her a grim smile, continuing on, like he needed to get it all out without stopping.

“I blocked her the next time and got her to drop the knife. After that, she just started hitting at me. I don’t even remember most of it. But the neighbors had heard the shouting, and uh, one of them called the police. When they got there, I was bleeding, Sylvia screaming and throwing anything she could get her hands on, they arrested her and brought me in to take my testimony.”

“Like I told you before, I haven’t seen her since I filed the restraining order.” Deeks spread his hands wide, as if to ask, “what do you think?”

Kensi hugged him, needing to feel him alive and safe in her arms, as much as she wanted to provide some comfort.

“I’m so sorry that happened, Deeks,” she murmured, hugging him even tighter.

“Me too,” he said, and she knew he meant it.

Kensi pulled back, and gently grasped his chin. “It’s not your fault though. You know that, right?”

“Yeah. But I probably could have handled it better.”

“No, nothing gave her the right to attack you that way, baby.” She held his chin until he met her gaze and reluctantly nodded. “I know you’re not goin to like this, but I want to run a background check on her to make sure she hasn’t been stalking you or anything.”

“Kens…”

“Deeks, please do this. For me. I need to know that you’re safe,” she begged, not feeling to bad about the slight manipulation.

“Ok,” he relented. “But I’m not renewing the restraining order unless there’s definitive proof that she’s been trying to make contact,” he added firmly.

“Alright.”

“Can we go home now?” he requested.

“Of course.” Kensi held him a little tighter than normal as they walked to the parking lot.

#densimber 6.0 #densimber 2022 #densimber day 21 #ncis la fanfiction #densi #Deeks’ backstory #angst #past Deeks’ whump #protective Kensi #by ejzah

31 notes · View notes

haadeswrites · 3 years ago

Text

Elysium

god this fic took forever i’m so sorry!! but hey, first fic on the new blog! <33 also y’all should really thank @iwaasfairy who listened to me complain about this fic for a solid month, she’s the reason it got finished

Cult leader Oikawa Tooru x female reader

tw: indoctrination, extremely dubious consent, blood, yandere themes, religious themes, minor character death, implied abuse & drug use, mild smut, nsfw

The island itself is breathtaking

Pristine beaches with gleaming white sand, vast swathes of lush, green rainforest and waterfalls that cascade into shimmering pools of crystal clear water. Untouched, undisturbed; a paradise. At least, that’s how Ryuji had described it.

Paradise, but only in the sense that a gingerbread cottage in the middle of the woods is paradise to a lost and hungry child.

He hadn’t been wrong. Bare feet sink into soft, white sand as you climb from the boat - the warmth just toeing the line between pleasant and burning. Gentle waves ebb and flow behind you, and there’s a light breeze that kisses your skin, the taste of seasalt carrying in the wind. Home, it seems to sing.

A laugh sounds somewhere in the distance, yet the only other figure on the beach is a man walking steadily towards you. He smiles when he sees you’ve noticed him; friendly, non-threatening. It’s a far cry from the swarming welcoming committee you’d been dreading, and you wonder if that’s somehow intentional as well.

As the boat pushes back out to sea he comes to a stop before you, “I’m Makki,” he says, pushing the fringe of his hair back and giving you a not-so-subtle once over. Whatever he sees must meet approval, because his grin only widens, “Welcome to the Commune.”

Ryuji wasn’t wrong; the island is a beautiful, deadly thing.

—

You’d never heard of the Commune before the phone call.

And maybe that shouldn’t be so surprising. You’ll be the first to admit you’re hardly an expert, but from what you do know, groups like the Commune – cults – don’t spring up out of thin air and start broadcasting their mistreatment and systematic abuse.

They’re not the kind of people that have sweet old ladies clutching their pearls and mothers shepherding their children away – at least, not in the beginning. Not entirely. They’re not out to recruit extremists to further their cause, they choose to prey on the vulnerable, the lost and the disillusioned. Those easily manipulated. You suspect that’s why when you google the Commune, all you find is a website for what essentially looks like a long term luxury wellness retreat.

‘The Commune is about healing and harmony, about returning to nature, supporting one another to forge a brighter, more holistic future together… a self-sufficient community living apart from technology and other evils of modern society.’

You fight the urge to roll your eyes as you scroll through. There’s a whisper of philosophical teachings woven throughout, a page dedicated to their founder, Oikawa Tooru – smiling handsomely in every single picture, because what would a burgeoning cult be without a charismatic leader – but there’s not enough.

So here you are, on an island hundreds of miles away from home living amongst strangers; because Ryuji wouldn’t have sounded so terrified if this was just some alternate, free-loving bunch of hippies.

And even with all that he’d told you, everything you thought you’d be prepared for, the Commune is like nothing you could’ve imagined.

Makki introduces you to Asuka, a woman only a few years older than yourself, dark haired and stunningly beautiful, and winks as he tells her to take you under her wing. She smiles brightly, eyes twinkling, and pulls you into a heartfelt hug – as if you’ve known each other your whole lives.

“We’re so glad you’re here!” she beams.

You’d like to hate her.

It feels like you're supposed to, sometimes; when she gets that dreamy look in her eyes and starts talking about Oikawa and the Commune and how lucky everyone here on the island is. Yet there’s something about her – the genuine warmth she emanates maybe, or the kindness in her eyes – that makes it difficult for you not to like her.

“You should come to the gathering tomorrow,” she hums idly one afternoon, maybe a week or so after your arrival. The two of you are sitting on the edge of the pier, legs dangling down into the water, tangled fishing nets to be repaired strewn between you.

“I always go,” you reply.

She laughs, fixing you with a knowing look, “And sit right at the very back, all but running off the moment we finish?”

And your traitorous heart skips a beat.

“It’s okay to take things slowly,” she says. “We understand that being a part of the Commune is a big change from the life you knew, and that not everybody is able to see what we see and embrace those changes.”

Asuka sets down the knot she’s working through and reaches for your hand, a gentle smile on her face, “But you shouldn’t be afraid. You’re meant to be here, I can feel it. You just need to stop fighting against it; surrender yourself to us, to the island, and everything’ll make sense, I promise.”

It’s dangerous territory. One wrong word could set off alarm bells, yet you can’t help pressing just a little.

“Do you ever miss it, then? Life outside the Commune?”

Your family. Friends. The life you left behind before you came here to be brainwashed like all of the others.

“Why would I?” she answers without missing a beat, and it’s hard to ignore the bitter flicker of disappointment you feel at her answer. “The island provides for us, we don’t have to spend our days selling off tiny pieces of ourselves just to make ends meet. It’s paradise here, and we have Oikawa to thank for that. Why would I ever want to go back?”

Silence falls between you as you struggle to think of something to say to salvage the situation. Yet Asuka isn’t even looking at you, instead staring out at the water with a strangely pensive expression.

“Did you know I was married once?” The words seemingly out of the blue, you can only shake your head. For a moment, she doesn’t reply, watching as the waves rise and crash offshore. And then;

“I was young, eighteen or so, fresh out of high school and he was a small town cop.” Her eyes flicker to yours, and your heart clenches at the sadness and pain echoing there. “I thought he was a good man, once upon a time.”

A chord strikes deep, your chest tightening involuntarily at her words. It’s not the same, of course it’s not the same, and yet…

No. You stop the errant thought in its tracks. Groups like the Commune prey on the vulnerable, you know this. People like Ryuji, like Asuka, like–

Her fingers squeeze around yours, pulling you back to the present. “Come to the gathering tomorrow. Listen to Oikawa, it’ll help.”

—

She doesn’t give you a choice in the matter – dragging you by the hand to sit right at the front of the gathered crowd that very night.

Oikawa’s handsomer up close; tall and dark haired with pretty eyes and long, sweeping lashes that frame delicate cheekbones, it’s not hard for you to see how a man like him has amassed such an impassioned following.

Once he starts actually speaking, however, you realise that his good looks and charming smile are just the tip of the iceberg. Oikawa’s utterly captivating as he preaches about the cycle of life and death and the paradise that awaits his faithful. Passionate and engaging, he speaks like he truly believes every word of the lies he’s spreading.

And Asuka, her friends, the others gathered, they eat up every word like it’s gospel truth, resounding cheers and thunderous applause deafening around you. In the midst of the rapturous din, Oikawa’s eyes flit to yours.

Slowly, he smiles – a dazzling grin that makes your stomach flip – and everything; Asuka, the noise, the others swarming around you, it all fades away.

For one electrifying heartbeat, you’re frozen in place. Just you and Oikawa, trapped in the pull of each other’s gaze.

—

You can’t forget the reason you came.

But it’s… difficult, in a way you struggle to understand. You only have one purpose for being here, one goal; find Ryuji and bring him home.

And yet, some days it’s like there’s a fog in your mind, and you have to focus to remember why you’re here at all. You catch yourself laughing with Asuka and her friends, the days passing by in a blur of endless, easy distractions.

It barely feels like work when you’re sitting under the shade of the trees, eating the fruits you’ve picked by hand – ripe and sweet, unlike anything you’ve ever tasted – diving off waterfalls into the crystalline water and meandering down the shore collecting seashells. Even when you are working, mending clothes or cooking with the others, it fills you with a sense of contentment you can’t quite explain.

Like you’re a part of something bigger. Like you’re doing something that matters.

Ryuji becomes a distant thought. A whisper in the back of your head, a niggling in your gut, easily brushed aside and ignored until there’s a moment of quiet. In the dead of night, the balmy summer night’s breeze kissing your bare skin, you lie awake, lost in memories of the last time you’d seen him.

Fists angrily pounding at your door, the yelling that gave way to sobs and the hoarse, desperate pleas that followed. Ryuji’s face; pupils blown wide and eyes rimmed in red, darting restlessly around as he held you too tight and begged–

Rolling over in bed, you gaze out your window at the star flecked sky, the shadows of the forest that lie at your doorstep, and wonder what it is that scares you more; that you’ve lost track of the days you’ve been here, and saving Ryuji is starting to feel like an afterthought, or that you could so easily forget all of it, find a place here in the Commune and be happy.

‘The island, it–it fucks with your head.’

Ryuji’d told you that, and you’d brushed it off as paranoia. You need to find him. Find him and get the hell outta dodge.

You can deal with the fallout later.

—

Kiyoshi.

He’d mentioned the name a few times amidst his rambling – a friend of his on the island. You’re annoyed with yourself for not thinking of it sooner, however much like Ryuji himself, trying to focus and remember the name is like wading through thick mud.

Once you do, though, finding him amongst the hundred and fifty or so inhabitants is the easy part.

There’s no strict division between genders within the Commune, however Kyoshi, despite his somewhat lean stature, is among the builders of the island and his path doesn’t often cross with yours.

From Asuka you find out that he’s been a part of the Commune for years now, before even she joined, and that he mostly sticks to himself, though you’ve seen him chatting quietly to a few of the other men, a perpetually angry looking blonde in particular.

It’s the last part that piques her interest, “Why’re you so curious, anyway?” she asks, her face lighting up as a sudden thought occurs. “Do you want me to introduce you two? To be honest, I didn’t think he’d be your type, if you’re interested, though…”

Cheeks aflame, you’re quick to shut her down. “No, no, nothing like that. I’ve just… seen him around and we’ve never really spoken, I guess.”

A lame excuse, though mercifully she lets the subject drop without too much prodding.

Therein, of course, lies the problem. Walking up to Kyoshi and casually trying to drop Ryuji into the conversation without raising red flags is risky, but what other options do you have? You’ve already spent too much time on this island.

Although, maybe Asuka has the right idea.

While you hadn’t been lying when you said you weren’t interested in Kyoshi in that way, nobody else knew that. Who would really look twice at the shy newbie striking up a conversation with the quiet, easygoing man? He wasn’t unattractive per se, and from the brief interactions you’d seen of him, he seemed kind enough.

You have enough patience (barely) to wait for dusk the following night. There’s a celebration, something about the full moon and a blessing on the island and the Commune– you hadn’t really been paying attention when Oikawa had spoken about it. Still, it’s too good an opportunity to pass up. With the fire pits crackling, and the dancing and music and the sweet honey wine flowing freely, nobody will be paying too much attention to what you’ll be doing. Hopefully, the alcohol will also serve to lower Kiyoshi’s guard, and perhaps if you’re really, really lucky, loosen his tongue as well.

Of course, you’re not banking on him telling you exactly where Ryu is or what happened to him– and that’s assuming he actually knows – but at this point you’ll take anything over the nothing you currently have. A tiny slip up, that’s all you’re asking for.

As the sun descends beyond the horizon, you play your role well, laughing and chatting amongst friends, sipping carefully at the cup of wine in your hand as you wait for an opening. And perhaps it’s your nerves working against you, but you find that it’s not just Kiyoshi your attention is drawn to.

Up on the shore, away from the rabble, Oikawa lounges back with a cup of the same honeyed wine you’re pretending to drink. For the most part he seems deep in conversation with Iwaizumi, his right hand, but every once in a while he glances up, letting his gaze roam over the crowd of his followers.

Every inch a king and his general.

And it would seem benevolent, if not for the strange smile he wears – the one that widens when his eyes catch yours.

Swallowing tightly, you force yourself not to dwell on it, to ignore the odd sensation curling in your gut and the way your skin prickles under his attention. Now is not the time to lose focus.

Pushing all thoughts of Oikawa aside, you subtly scan the beach once more, only to find that Kiyoshi’s moved, sitting now on a piece of old driftwood near the bonfire. Alone for the first time tonight.

Your legs are moving before the thought even fully registers.

“Do you mind if I sit?” you ask, gesturing to the empty space on the log beside him.

Kiyoshi smiles, the laugh lines at corners of his eyes crinkling pleasantly, and shakes his head, “Not at all.”

“Thanks.”

Taking another sip of your wine, you will your shoulders to relax, your racing pulse to slow. This has to seem natural, and so you force yourself to hold your tongue, let your head loll back and breathe deep, soaking it all in. You can hear the others in the distance, the music and the dancing, the happy laughter and shouts that beckon – you want to go join them. Even your blood seems to hum, a call of something other pulsing through your veins.

But you pay it no mind. There are more important things to worry about tonight.

Indeed, steel blue eyes have been appraising you curiously for a while now. “This is your first Lunar blessing, isn’t it?” Kiyoshi asks after a moment.

You nod, humming in agreement. Less than a month; you’ve been here less than a month. Is that a good thing?

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

A harmless enough question, and again you nod your head. “Yeah, it’s…” you pause, searching for words that won’t sound hollow. “It’s paradise. I feel like I need to pinch myself just to make sure it’s real.”

He smiles gently. “But?” he probes.

Grimly, you wonder whether Kiyoshi’s usually this perceptive, or if you’re just a really terrible actor. In a way, you suppose it really doesn’t make a difference; you’ve come too far to turn back now – at least not without raising suspicion.

So you lie with a truth, and pray that it works.

“I had a friend I was supposed to meet here,” you confess quietly, gazing not at him but the crackling flames of the bonfire, the burning embers carried off into the night. “He was the one who said I should come, but now I’m here and he’s not and every time I catch myself enjoying this–”

“You feel guilty,” he surmises, cutting you off. “Because he’s not here to enjoy it with you.”

Wordlessly, you nod – and maybe it isn’t so much of an act when your eyes begin to glisten, your smile wavering.

Kiyoshi’s silent for a moment, and you take another sip of the honey wine to hide your nerves. “You shouldn’t, you know,” he says eventually. “Feel guilty, I mean. You belong here, with the Commune. You’re happy here. Paradise… isn’t for everybody.”

He doesn’t say it to be cruel, more like he’s simply stating a fact, and somehow that makes it all the more unnerving. And it’s nothing you haven’t listened to Oikawa preach about time and time again. The Commune is for the devoted, the faithful – the lucky few – and you’ve never thought too hard about what he’d meant by that.

The Commune’s small, maybe a hundred and fifty or so people on the island. There’d been no initiation, no test of faith or trial period you’d had to pass when you arrived – at least, none that you’d been aware of. You simply stepped off the boat and they’d welcomed you with open arms.

An uneasy sensation settles into your gut, goosebumps prickling at your skin despite the heat of the midsummer night.

That… doesn’t make sense. It can’t. Absolute control’s too important in groups like this, they couldn’t just let anyone–

Kiyoshi speaks again, his calm voice pulling you from your thoughts. “What was his name?”

You blink at him slowly – stupidly. “Sorry?”

“Your friend,” he clarifies. “What was his name?”

“Oh, um- Ryuji.”

Kiyoshi’s brow furrows in thought for a moment, but he merely shakes his head, “Doesn’t ring a bell, but like I said, not everyone who arrives stays with us for long.”

He looks you right in the eye as he says it.

You don’t understand the cold, foreboding that seeps through your veins, because he’s lying. He has to be.

Ryuji was here. They were friends, Ryu’d told you that–

Why did you think this stupid plan would work anyway? That he’d tell you anything, much less the truth when this whole fucked up island is full of liars and those too indoctrinated to know the difference?

“You alright?” he asks when abruptly, you shoot to your feet beside him.

And it takes every ounce of willpower you have left to force an easy smile to your lips, raising your cup just a fraction, “Yeah, just gonna go get a refill. Thanks for the talk, Kiyoshi.”

Whether he notices that your wine’s barely touched or not, you don’t care – not as you turn on your heel without another word and head back up the beach.

Your head is pounding, your body trembling – you don’t hear the call of your name until a hand reaches out and grasps at your wrist, spinning you around.

Asuka greets you with a wide grin, Makki and a tall, broad shouldered man you think is called Mattsun standing either side of her – the former’s arm slung casually over her shoulder. “There you are! I’ve been looking for you,” she says. “Come on, we’re gonna go swimming, it’s so pretty out there!”

You glance out towards the ocean. Moonlight bathes the inky blue water, light shimmering off the rippling tide; some of the others are already out there, splashing amongst the waves.

“Clothing optional, of course,” Makki laughs, and Asuka tugs on your wrist once more.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun!”

But you shake your head, slowly pulling your hand from her grip, “I’m not feeling great, I think I’m gonna head back.”

Asuka frowns, concern marring her pretty features. “Are you okay? Do you need us to call Mizo–”

“No,” you say, cutting her off. Healer Mizoguchi is the last person you need to see right now. “I just– I just need to go lie down for a bit. You guys go have fun – enjoy the blessing, I’ll be fine.”

Makki and Asuka share a fleeting look, but it’s Mattsun who interjects before either one of them can speak, “I’ll walk you back, then.”

Your stomach churns. It doesn’t sound like a suggestion.

And the smart thing to do would be to accept his help; the walk from the beach to your villa isn’t far, and while you’re not as familiar with Mattsun as you are with Makki or Asuka, it’s not like he’s going to hurt you or anything, but–

“Really– you don’t need to, it’s fine,” you smile weakly, shuffling back as he reaches to offer you his arm. “Go swim, I’ll see you guys in the morning.”

Mattsun shrugs easily enough, falling back into line with the other two – yet there’s something in the way he grins and holds your gaze for a beat longer. A glimmer of amusement, as if there’s some joke you're not a part of. “I’ll hold you to it, sweetheart.”

The heat that floods your cheeks clashes uncomfortably with the cloying heaviness in your stomach, but somehow you manage to stutter out one last goodbye before turning back to scamper off in the direction of your room.

–But not to lie down.

There’s not a cloud in the sky, and the full moon’s bright. No need for a torch, not unless you decide to venture into the heart of the forest.

You’ve been a fool. Kiyoshi, Asuka, Makki, Mattsun; you can’t trust any of them to help you, even unwittingly. Ryuji’s here on the island – somewhere – and every second that slips away, every second that you allow yourself to forget puts him in further danger.

And so you cling to your discomfort, ground yourself in it. The prickling sensation at the back of your neck, the tightness in your chest as you slip past your villa, keeping low and quiet – they’re a reminder that there is something insidious here on the island, that you have to get out.

You and Ryuji.

He’s here. Away from the others, kept under lock and key as punishment, or maybe being forced to undergo whatever kind of glorified brainwashing they’ve got going on, but here. You need to be smart about this, because while you don’t intend to stop until you find him, tonight will be your best shot – while everyone’s distracted down on the beach.

For the first time in a long time, it feels like you have a clear head.

Creeping through the underbrush, you steer clear of the well trod pathways that lead towards habitation. You’ve been there, and to the docks, and the river.

If they’re still keeping him here (and they are, you refuse to entertain the possibility that it could be otherwise) then it’s not somewhere out in the open. A bird cries out in the distance shattering the calm of the night, and you flinch – but it only serves as another reminder that your time tonight is limited; you cannot afford to delay. You wrack your brain, trying to dredge up memories of the last few weeks, surely you must have seen something–

“Lost?”

The single word, spoken in a deep, gruff voice has your blood running cold.

Slowly, you turn.

Iwa stands behind you in the thicket, his face utterly impassive. Briefly, you contemplate whether it’s worth trying to bluff your way out of this, but Iwa’s eyes narrow, flashing in the dim light and you think better of it.

A sigh escapes you, your shoulders deflating. “Where is he– Ryuji?” you ask; a whisper rather than a demand.

Iwa’s expression gives nothing away. Did he know, or have you handed him the smoking gun of a crime that’d fallen through the cracks? Does it even matter anymore? You’re just–

You’re tired.

Exhausted. In the space of a few moments all of that shining determination and resolve; it fled, leaving a gaping hole in its wake. This has to end, you can’t keep fighting against them forever. You can’t keep drowning in this guilt, feeling torn every second that you spend here on this stupid island. You just want to find Ryuji and go home.

… Right?

A tense beat passes as Iwa appraises you, and then; “Come with me.”

The hand he places on your shoulder doesn’t give you much choice. His grip isn’t what you’d describe as gentle, yet he’s careful enough to make sure you don’t trip or stumble as he marches you north.

In the thick of the forest away from the beach, it’s eerily quiet. Every twig that snaps underfoot, every ragged breath you draw; it feels too loud. Out of place amongst the stillness of the midsummer night.

And isn’t it ironic, that for the first time since you set foot in this paradise, you feel like you’re trespassing?

A bead of sweat trickles down from your temple and your mind unwittingly drifts back to Mattsun and Makki. Are they still swimming with Asuka? Probably, you reason. It’s hard to pinpoint exactly how long it’s been since you left them on the beach, but surely no more than an hour.

And strangely, like water drawn from the depths of a well, an image comes to mind; the four of you standing in the waves, you perched atop Mattsun’s shoulders, screaming and giggling in delight as Asuka tries to knock you down again, two sets of eyes watching from the shore…

You should have stayed on the beach.

“Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask,” he replies drily – humouring you, you suppose.

Your lips quirk upwards for the briefest of moments. “What happens on the Lunar blessing? Asuka, the others– no one told me what it was.”

Iwaizumi doesn’t answer you immediately, but you feel his fingers reflexively tighten on your shoulder. Likely it wasn’t the question he was expecting; surely there were others that you could have asked – but you don’t really want the answers to those.

If you’re being led like a lamb to proverbial slaughter, what good would it do you to know it?

And yet as the seconds pass and no answer seems forthcoming from your captor, you resign yourself to the fact that your curiosity will remain unsated. You don’t even know what prompted you to ask in the first place; knowing Oikawa it’s probably some grand, meaningless spectacle. Pretty, hollow words spoken only to–

A heavy sigh draws you from your thoughts, and you falter in your step, almost tripping over your own feet in the process. Iwa’s quick to right you, urging you forward with a less than gentle nudge. “Walk straight,” he grunts, yet it lacks any true heat. Anticipation flutters through your veins, and he mutters a soft curse behind you. “Fine. It… it’s an exchange.”

An exchange? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Your eyebrows draw together, mouth opening to press the matter, but Iwa beats you to the punch.

“You’ll find out for yourself soon enough, now shut up.”

You have no response to that, so you do.

—

The two of you walk in silence for what feels like hours. Eventually, the terrain becomes steeper, the worn path you’re treading twisting and winding, and you realise you must be close to the mountains at the heart of the island.

As your breath comes in heavy pants, your legs beginning to ache, you can’t help but be lost in the beauty of it all.

The flora’s different here, unlike any you’ve seen before. Flowers bursting from the bark of towering trees, blooms of vibrant hues; reds and purples and soft, baby pinks. Even the vines at your feet curl amongst pretty white buds that gleam invitingly under the moonlight. Your jaw falls open as you gaze around in wonderment.

You forget why you’re walking, where it is that you’re heading. Iwa’s grip relaxes as a quiet gasp escapes you, and he doesn’t stop you when you stray from the path to take a closer look. You can’t resist reaching out to touch the silken petals, leaning in to smell their perfume. Soft and light and sweet, your eyes flutter shut, a smile creeping across your visage.

It reminds you of home. Not your actual home – the rundown, tiny shoebox apartment you gave up before you came here – but something deeper.

Home, like the long summer days spent playing in your parents’ backyard. Home, like afternoons curled up by the window, watching the rain come down in sheets outside.

Home, like the comfort of arms wrapped around you; two hearts beating in sync.

“C’mon,” Iwa interrupts after a minute or so, his voice a touch less gruff. “We’re almost there.”

Dazed, you find yourself nodding, allowing him to guide you back to the path. This time, he doesn’t grab you by the shoulder, seemingly content enough to walk by your side.

True to his word, it’s only another few minutes before you see it; a wooden villa, four times the size of your own and far, far grander, set amongst a clearing of trees on the mountainside. Confused, your eyes flicker from the villa to Iwa and back again. Gossamer curtains billow lightly in the breeze, a warm, inviting glow spilling from the open windows. Surely this cannot be where he meant to lead you… and yet he merely stands at your side, arms folded across his broad chest, watching you expectantly.

“You gonna make me carry you up there?” he asks, not unkindly.

Swallowing tightly, you shake your head.

Another glance, and you catch a shadow lingering by the window. Your heart skips a beat, apprehension curling in your gut as you begin to walk, every step feels less steady than the last. You’re almost glad when Iwa takes you by the arm; if only so that you have something to focus on other than the growing tightness in your chest. The villa, with its pretty flowers and airy, elegant grandeur is far from the isolated cell you’d been afraid of, yet the uncertainty of what you’re walking into eats at you all the same.

Is this where they’ve been keeping Ryu, or has he brought you here for another reason?

Nothing, however, can prepare you for what you find inside. Warm light emanates from lanterns that bathe the room, and your eyes widen as you stare around you.

Strange, gold carvings inlaid with mother of pearl decorate the thick, woodens support beams, a pot of incense burns on a table overflowing with fresh fruit. There’s a jug of the same honeyed wine you’d drank earlier in the night and two cups set on an ornate stand nearby – just within arms reach of one of the chaise lounges.

Iwa affords you little time to gape, drawing you further in. Silken tapestries hang from the walls – you’re pulled along too quickly to truly take note, but the brief glimpses you get hint at a story; a divine being cast from his home, lost and wandering.

It tugs at something buried within you, and uncomfortable, you tear your eyes away.

The two of you reach a closed door at the end of the hall, and Iwa pulls you to a stop, knocking once.

“Come,” a familiar voice calls.

You stiffen, though perhaps you should have foreseen this outcome. Who else would Iwa bring you to but to him? Distantly, you register his grip relaxing, the sound of the door sweeping open and his voice at your ear.

“Go on.”

And it’s funny, you think, how two halves of yourself can be so at odds with each other. Because while your stomach twists itself into knots, goosebumps prickling at your skin, your legs stumble forward of their own accord.

Two steps forward, and your breath catches in your throat.

It’s a bedroom, that much you can deduce from the decor, but that’s not what captures your attention. Nor is it Oikawa, leaning against the bureau with a genial smile – at least not at first.

No. In place of a back wall, there’s open space, not so much as a panel of glass obstructing the view before you. And what a view it is; from this height you can see the sprawling forest below, the coastline dotted with bonfires and the moonlit ocean shimmering beyond. Where the floorboards end, there are steps, you realise as you unwittingly inch closer, leading to a cascading spring – likely fed from the waterfall you can hear rushing nearby.

How easy it would be to brush aside your worries, you think, to shed your clothes, slip into the cool, calm water and lose yourself entirely. Even amongst all you’ve seen and experienced on the island so far, this is incomparable.

“Stunning, isn’t it?” Oikawa murmurs, coming up behind you.

His voice startles you, yet when you turn, you find him not gazing out at the scenery but rather at you, that same strange, knowing smile curling at his lips.

“Some days, I admit, it’s hard to tear myself away,” he continues, unbothered by your stunned silence. “But even I can’t neglect my duties for too long.”

You swallow, tongue darting out to wet your lips. Confusion twists through you at the conversational tone, surely he hasn’t brought you here just to chat about the impressive views, yet there’s no hint of disapproval on his face, no indication that he’s anything less than pleased with you.

It’s unnerving to say the least, but you’ll play along with his game if that’s what Oikawa wants.

“Beautiful,” you say, though the words feel woefully inadequate even as you speak them.

He hums in agreement, something akin to pride flickers in his eyes at your assessment, “A labour of love, I suppose. But… everything you see here, everything I’ve built, it comes with a price. You understand that, don’t you?”

“I-I’m sorry?” you stutter.

“Paradise,” he elaborates, his smile widening. “There’s no give without take. Those people down there,” he nods down at the beach, the tiny, ant-like figures still milling about, “the lost, the beaten, the abused – I gave them what they so desperately sought; a sanctuary. A life without struggle, without suffering.” He pauses for a moment, reaching forward to take your hand. You almost flinch, almost skitter across the room to put as much distance between you as you can, but you don’t–

His palm is warm as it envelops yours, a pleasant heat that seems to spread through your veins, easing your tense muscles. There’s nothing to fear from him, you’re safe with Oikawa.

“Aren’t you happy here?”

Yes.

“What about the price?” you ask instead, though it takes more concentration than it should to force the words out.

Oikawa’s thumb sweeps along the back of your hand. “I never said it was your price to pay,” he soothes.

There’s something wrong with that sentence, but another sharp knock at the door draws your attention before you can think too hard about it. You turn out of instinct, barely aware of the way his hand tightens fractionally around your own.

A single finger at your jaw coaxes your attention back to him. “If you built a paradise, wouldn’t you give whatever necessary to ensure it flourished?”

Oikawa stares at you expectantly, deep brown eyes searching your face as he waits for an answer. Agreement would be the logical choice – the one he seems to want from you – but even as your lips part, the only sound that escapes is a breathless, confused noise.

When you were a kid, maybe six or seven, your parents took you to the beach one day and you waded too far out into the water. The waves were bigger than you expected; all it took was one mistimed jump and you were dragged under.

It wasn’t for long, probably only seconds, and ultimately you were fine – but you remember those few seconds so vividly. The feeling of helplessly tumbling through the water, fighting to break the surface but not knowing which way was up. Your lungs crying out for oxygen, the disorientation and dizziness, the panic.

It feels like that now – like the floor’s dropped out from beneath you and you’re just hurtling through empty air, desperately trying to slow yourself down with nothing to grab onto.

None of this makes any sense. Your emotions are shot to pieces, too many parts of yourself being pulled in different directions and you’re not sure which ones you can trust anymore. How can you be? Oikawa’s still holding your hand, smiling at you, and you just want everything to stop for a second so you can right yourself and breathe–

The door opens.

Iwaizumi appears in your field of vision, dragging a bound, hooded figure behind him. And because this is all some big, cosmic joke, you get your wish. Both of them, actually.

Time slows.

Even with a burlap sack pulled over his head, you recognise the man Iwa shoves to the floor and sneers at.

Hundreds of miles, weeks of uselessly traipsing around this fucking island, and finally–

Finally, you’ve found Ryu.

There should be relief. Fear, considering his current state, yes, but Ryuji’s here and he’s alive and as the hood is ripped off his head Oikawa squeezes your hand and the only thing you feel is… anger.

Not a heated flash that surges through your blood. It’s slow and seething, insipid. You look at him, locked in place as empty, pleading eyes meet yours and all you can think is that all of this – everything – is his fault.

“Asuka told you why she came to me, didn’t she?” Oikawa asks.

Your brow furrows, why–why is he asking you that now, how did he even–

He slips closer behind you, letting your hand go in favour of your shoulder, his spare dragging lightly along the bare skin of your arm. “She was lost, in so much pain. The physical wounds, they heal after a while,” his voice is right in your ear, a low murmur that sends a shiver rippling down your spine.

It isn’t an unpleasant feeling.

“But the scars inside, well… sometimes those fester.”

Gagged and bound, kneeling at your feet, Ryu doesn’t even try to make a sound.

He’s thinner than you remember. Face gaunt and bruised; there’s a half healed, mottled yellow one painted across the left side of his jaw, one eye purple and swollen. You glance at Iwa, standing stoically behind him, muscular arms folded across his chest. His work, you wonder, or others as well? You notice the tear tracks running down his face, catching the light of the lanterns, but it’s as if you’re seeing it all through a thick pane of glass. None of it reaches you, there’s nothing but that simmering, ugly feeling in your gut.

Oikawa hums, “I told you that Paradise wasn’t for everyone. It’s a haven, yes, but there are those who simply… don’t belong.”

His body’s so warm, pressed up against yours. Fingertips graze along your side, and this time you don’t bother biting back that tiny, breathless moan. Iwa briefly smirks at it, but there’s no embarrassment. Why should there be? Your eyes flit back to Ryu, bowed on the wooden floor.

Another memory resurfaces; A sharp crack and a ringing in your ears, Ryuji, eyes bloodshot and glazed, falling to his knees, clutching frantically at the leg of your pants as endless apologies spill from his lips.

It wasn’t him. It was never him.

“He hurt you,” Oikawa purrs. “He kept hurting you, I saw it.”

The words wash over you like waves breaking on the shore, but you find yourself nodding anyway. It was the truth, wasn’t it? A thousand tiny hurts, piled up on one another until you finally broke.

And you’d still come when he’d called.

Listened to him when he’d begged you not to hang up the phone.

“Iwa.”

The brunet moves towards a grand chest of drawers pushed up against the western wall. An ornate dagger sits atop, strange and beautiful; the blade isn’t steel or any metal you’ve seen before, but some kind of black stone, the handle intricately carved ivory. You hadn’t even noticed it before, Oikawa’s room filled to the brim with odd trinkets and treasures, but now that you have, it’s hard to tear your eyes away.

Iwa takes it and carries it over towards the two of you, holding it with the utmost care.

“Obsidian,” Oikawa informs you as he accepts the blade from his friend, bringing it in front of you both to show it off. “Pretty, isn’t it?” And while you can’t see his face, you can hear the smile in his tone.

He isn’t wrong though.

Ever so carefully you reach out, the soft pads of your fingertips running along the obsidian surface, surprisingly cool to the touch. The razor sharp edges – wavy and asymmetrical, leading to a tapered point – you’re careful to avoid, almost positive you’d draw blood with the slightest touch.

“Take it,” he urges, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear.

Obediently, you turn your hand over, your fingers wrapping around the hilt when he presses it against your palm. And as long fingers curl around yours, you idly wonder how old the dagger is – there’s not so much as a scratch on it, yet there’s something about the weapon in your hand that feels ancient. It thrums under your combined touch.

Oikawa jerks his chin at Iwa, and with a short nod and one last, lingering glance cast your way, the latter exits once again.

Leaving you and Oikawa alone with Ryuji.

“It’s almost time,” he remarks – though time for what, you’re not entirely sure. His lips press against your hair, his arm dropping from your shoulder to your waist, drawing you flush against him. “I know why you came to me, the lies that led you here.”

Both of you turn your attention back to Ryuji at that, the bound man now shaking with the force of his muffled sobs, snot dripping from his nose. That bitter resentment rears its ugly head again, soothed only by Oikawa’s pacifying hum, his thumb now rubbing slow circles at your side. “Shh, I’m not angry – none of that matters now. You’ve found a home here, no? You want to stay on the island with me.”

You swallow, nodding your head rapidly. The thought of having to leave now, of being forced out after everything you’ve seen and felt and experienced here, you– you can’t fathom it. You don’t want to.

Ryuji’d wrought so much damage, but even before he’d swept through your life… had you ever been happy? Were you ever truly accepted – or loved, for that matter?

You can’t go back to that life. You won’t; he’ll have to drag you kicking and screaming from the shore. The Commune is your home, this is where you belong. Here, with Oikawa.

“Good girl,” he croons, another kiss pressed to the crown of your head. You beam at the praise and Ryuji crumples a little further. “Death begets life, you understand now, don’t you?”

You glance at the obsidian dagger in your hand and then at Ryu, beaten and bruised, bowed in forced supplication before you, and nod.

His fingers tighten around yours, “Then do it.”

Leaning forward, you reach for Ryu, fingers lightly trailing down his ruined cheek, curling at his chin to coax his head upwards. He squeezes his eyes shut, pain and regret etched over every inch of his face, but he doesn’t fight you.

Baring his throat to your dagger, Ryuji’s pleas take the shape of your name.

Muffled, thanks to the gag, but unmistakable. And for one single moment, you falter.

This… this is wrong; for all his faults, and god knows there were plenty, Ryu didn’t des–

A wave of calm washes over you, allaying your fears, your doubts. Your breath leaves you in a heavy gust, taking with it the tension in your shoulders, and Oikawa’s voice, smooth and honeyed, reaches your ears once more, “Nothing comes without a price, doesn’t he deserve to be the one to pay it?”

With your hand still tucked inside of his, your arm moves with a will of its own; slashing with inhuman grace.

The dagger cuts deep, Ryuji’s eyes snapping open in shock as a spray of warm blood hits you both. He chokes – a horrid, wet, gurgling sound – wide, pleading eyes frantically shifting between you and Oikawa. Every beat of his failing heart sends fresh blood spurting from the gaping wound. It drenches his front, splatters across your dress, your face, crimson pooling at the wooden floorboards at his knees. His mouth falls open and shut, trying and failing to form coherent sounds and you just stand there and watch, the dagger hanging limply at your side.

It doesn’t take long; seconds at the most.

Ryuji’s slumps to the floor, his body finally growing still as the light fades from his eyes. There’s a beat of absolute silence, and then–

Oikawa shudders behind you, a strangled, drawn out moan leaving his lips. You try to turn, but his arms lock around you, every muscle tensing, his back arching. The dagger in your hand grows hot, burning the soft skin of your palm, but with his fingers still tightly entwined with yours you can only whimper and endure it.

With a hoarse, guttural roar, a pulse of pure energy surges through the room like a shockwave. Every cell in your body lights up, electrified, buzzing; a dizzying euphoria unlike any you’ve felt before coursing through your blood.

Across the island, voices cry out in delight, a symphony of life. The trees tremble and shake, invigorated and renewed, fresh buds bursting from the forest floor, blooming under the light of the full moon.

The harvests flourish, even the river swells in response to the call.

Death begets life, just as he promised.

And with every inch of your body alight and singing with pleasure, you can barely think much less protest (and why would you want to?) as Oikawa roughly yanks you around, hungry lips crashing against your own as his fingers pull and tear at your bloodstained dress. He wastes no time with foreplay, and you suspect only begrudgingly takes a moment to hoist you up against him and carry you to his bed.

There’s nothing gentle about the way he hauls your hips to his, sheathing his cock inside of your warm, tight cunt with one savage thrust, but you don’t care.

Not as you cling to him, fingernails raking along his shoulders as he presses your thighs further apart so he can fuck you deeper. It’s hard and rough and brutal, yet you moan for him all the same, his name a prayer swallowed up by feverish, claiming kisses.

Tonight, bathed in blood and the soft glow of moonlight, you offer your god everything.

—

“Look, look!”

A small hand tugs at your skirt, and you glance down to find a little girl with pretty, dark curls holding up a crown of woven flowers.

“Do you like it?” she asks.

Carefully, you take it from her, bringing it closer to examine. She watches you intently as you study it, lifting it this way and that to appraise her work, humming thoughtfully for good measure. “I think it’s beautiful work,” you tell her after a long enough pause, and you can’t help but smile at the way she lights up, preening under your praise. “Why don’t you go show your mama? I’m sure she’ll be very impressed.”

The girl nods rapidly, thanking you before skipping off in the direction of her parents. The sun’s hanging low in the sky, the fires already being readied for the night ahead. You’re not unaware of the watchful gaze that carefully monitors your every move, and the moves of anyone who ventures too close by. Soon enough, you’ll return home to the heart of the island – anticipation fluttering in your belly at the thought of what awaits you – but for now, you let your feet sink further into the sand, closing your eyes as you bask in the lingering warmth of the setting sun.

At least until the sound of your name being called draws you back to the present. Yet it’s not Iwaizumi approaching, but rather Makki, two strangers trailing along behind him.

“Thought I’d find you here,” he grins, throwing a casual arm over your shoulders. “This is Kaneo,” he gestures to the man, “and his wife Manaka. They arrived this morning, I’ve been showing ‘em round.”

You turn to the couple, smiling sweetly as you extend a hand, “Welcome to the Commune.”

#yandere haikyuu #yandere oikawa x reader #yandere oikawa tooru #yandere oikawa #yandere oikawa tooru x reader #cult au #tw: religious themes #tw: dubcon #tw: blood #tw: minor character death #tw: abuse #hades.dark #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader

458 notes · View notes

odetojeons · 4 years ago

Text

Will You Punish Me If I Don’t? — Jeon Wonwoo

request: a lil drunk reader × possessive wonu angry sex pls

tags: fem and brat!reader, dom!wonwoo, edging, semi-public sex, angry sex, rough sex, oral sex (f receiving), a tiiiiiny bit of light degradation and spit kink, unprotected sex (stay safe), wall sex (oh yes you read that right), a whole lot of dirty talk, JEON WONWOO IN A CROP TOP BYE, established jeon wonwoo x reader

a/n: this took me a whole fucking day to write it 💀 i think my soul left my body on the meantime and now i’m just a spirit,, but i love this so much, pls, possessive wonu is one of the biggest moods ever 🥵 also i’m sure i made a lot of stupid grammar mistakes that i didn’t realize even after proof reading it, so you’re just gonna,, pretend you don’t see those :)) i hope you enjoy, i made this with all my heart JDJSJDJS

word count: 6244

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You know very well you’re being annoying and petty today.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You both have been on this damn party for a while and you tried to get Wonwoo to leave and fuck you for at least five times now. You tried dirty dancing on the dance floor; nope. You tried sitting on his lap when he was talking to his friends; nope. You even tried to make out with him; but it only had lasted for a few minutes.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

It had you even more horny and angry. And that is never a good combination when it comes to you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

But can people really blame you when Wonwoo is looking that good? You have been making a great amount of effort not to stare too much at Wonwoo’s abs peeking from his black cropped shirt, the sharpness of his V-line more visible than it should be legally allowed — it’s bad for your poor heart after all. But you do a poor job of hiding how the whole outfit affects you, because Wonwoo was looking and he had this known glint swimming inside his eyes and it’s got you licking your lips.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

But still, he didn’t do anything.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Well, not until you used your last resort.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your mind threw back to the memory of Wonwoo’s big hand resting on your inner thigh earlier when you were sitting in his lap, the veins in the back of his palm tracing a dirty path up to his forearms. And there’s always a strength, even a possessiveness in the way he holds you, his other hand squeezing a little hard against your waist, grip tightening every time someone stares at you for a second too long. There’s something so raw in the way he acts, like it’s almost unconscious, and it turns you on without a doubt.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

No matter how you looked at other people and tried to rile him up, Wonwoo still remained in his stupid composed behavior, this little acts being the only proof of his jealousy.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

But not tonight. Tonight you were going to make him snap, no matter what. You were gonna make him fuck you rough and fast and give you as many orgasms as you wanted.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Oh, but you were so wrong. Things totally backfired at you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You started by going into the dance floor again, after a few shots of some liquid courage. Swaying your hips at the beat, you tried your best to throw sultry looks at where he was sitting — manspreading, your brain unfortunately added, because he looked so hot doing that — in one of the sofas, eyes set on you like you’re the only thing that he could ever look at.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You smirked, pleased with his reaction, before proceeding with your plan. Hands reaching forward, you touched the shoulder of the first guy you saw in front of you. It doesn’t take long for him to turn around and smile. He seemed genuinely nice, so you felt a little bad for using him to make your boyfriend jealous, but when you looked at him the guilt disappeared in two seconds.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

His head was hung low, eyebrows frown and fists clenched in where he supported his arms on the sofa. You winked at him and clearly saw how he seemed to almost visibly snarl at your teasing, knowing very well what was your intent with all of that; Wonwoo looked at you like he was about to consume you whole in front of everyone just to prove who you belonged to — and you felt your legs tremble at the idea of that.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

It was a game to see who would give in first; you to your frustration and horniness or Wonwoo to his possessives and jealousy. You couldn’t stop staring at him, the both of you shooting daggers into each other, especially when you turned your back to the guy and swayed your hips obscenely for him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

But it was when he put his hand on your waist and glued his lips to your ear that things started taking a turn of events; in the next second, Wonwoo was standing right beside you. The air grew thicker quickly, and your breath was knocked out of you at the sight of your — very pissed off and very hot — boyfriend looking down at you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“What do you think you’re doing?” Wonwoo’s voice had rang through your ears, loud enough to make you mewl softly even through all the music going on in the background.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Dancing?” you asked with fake innocence, batting your eyelashes at him. Wonwoo groaned, grabbing your wrist.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Um,” the guy from before started. “I think I should be going now?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He waited for an answer, but you and Wonwoo were too busy looking at each other intensively to even care, so he cleared his throat and left.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Let’s go,” he stated simply, pulling at you through the crowd so you both could go outside. You giggle a little when you trip on your foot, a bit tipsy with the shots you took.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And that’s how you find yourself currently being guided until you were both right in front of his car. Your mouth opens, ready to make a clever comment that would surely rile him up and give in to what you want, before he turns around and gets all over your personal space, so suddenly that the words get stuck in your throat. The scent of his cedarwood cologne invades your lungs, sending your mind into a little haze.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“What were you thinking, letting another man touch you?” Wonwoo says, voice rough and firm, lips pressed into a thin line like he was still holding something back.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And you don’t want him to.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You took too long, and I have needs,” you retort, stepping up into his space too, not wanting to back down even when the sight of Wonwoo’s dark, dark eyes bleeding with lust made a very noticeable shiver run down your spine.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“What kind of need would even make you want to rub yourself all over someone else that—” he stops himself, closing his mouth before groaning, annoyed. You smirk at him, knowing what he was going to say.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

All over someone else that isn’t me.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hmm, let me see,” you giggle, face centimeters apart from his, your breaths mingling with each other. “A need to get fucked hard, for starters.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The intensity of his gaze growing exponentially dark wipes the smile off your face in seconds. You try not to gulp when he scoffs, taking one messy step back when he takes one further.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“So that’s what this is about?” Wonwoo questions, tone suddenly mean and sarcastic, and there’s heat licking and pooling at your lower belly faster than you expected. His deep voice never fails to leave you trembling. “You’re so desperate to get railed that you couldn’t even wait to get home before throwing yourself at some random dude.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your cheeks tint red in shame and arousal, realizing this wasn’t a question. It was an affirmation, like he knows exactly how horny you are, and you try to remain composed. You are not going to give up until he loses it.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Maybe,” you say, a single finger trailing through his torso distractingly, and you don’t even try to hide your hunger when you look at his abs peeking from behind his cropped. Wonwoo’s face hardens at that, and you smile internally in victory. “Why? Are you jealous, baby?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He laughs, throwing his head back, but it only serves to make you even more satisfied. That’s exactly the reaction you expected him to have.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You’re drunk,” Wonwoo answers instead, and you think it’s endearing how he denies so hard that he’s not possessive.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Nope,” you press your finger in his chest again, but he doesn’t even buge from the place. Fuck, that’s hot, you think, licking your lips and watching Wonwoo’s eyes zeroing in the action. “A little bit tipsy? Yes. But drunk? Not at all.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Suddenly, you back away, trying to ignore the way your body protests against the lack of warmth, the lack of Wonwoo.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“So if you’re not jealous, then you wouldn’t mind me getting off with someone else, right?” you trail off, feeling proud of yourself when he looks at you like you just made something emerge from the ground with psychic powers.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“What?” he asks, tone furious, and you jump a little in place with the intensity of it, but soon recovers with a pout.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I mean,” you start, acting like you’re not saying the biggest stupid thing you could ever think of saying, shrugging at him. Of course it was all a lie, there’s no way you’ll ever want someone else other than Wonwoo. “You’re always telling me to wait and wait and wait, so if you’re not that jealous, then maybe I should get someone else to fuck me when you can’t.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo moves so fast your brain takes a time to understand what he just did; in a second you were standing with your glorious bratty attitude, the next you were pushed against the car, one hand squeezing your jaw tight in place and the other holding your wrists behind your back. His bigger and broader body pins yours against the door, and you have a hard time breathing now.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Now that’s a way to sober up.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“No,” he grits out, sounding more like a growl than an actual word. Your heart is hammering like crazy against your chest, and you gasp softly when he pushes your jaw backwards until the back of your head hits the car, neck exposed for him. “No one should be allowed to touch you like this. No one but me. No one.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Then Wonwoo bites the juncture of your neck and shoulder, so hard you think the mark is gonna be there for days. You moan at that, hips kicking and shocking with Wonwoo’s.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You know nobody could fuck you like I do,” he says, sounding smug but also dead serious, and this cocky side of his during such moments never fails to make you wet.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You inhale, reuniting the fight there’s still in you. To be honest the only thing that makes you still retort back is the alcohol. It gives you a special ability of not being able to shut up.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I guess someone else will have to fuck me so I can believe you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You watch his demeanor change instantly at that; shoulders tensing, jaw clenching and predatory eyes — Wonwoo kisses the breath out of you. He sucks at your body lip, licking at the seam of your mouth, and you gasp, mouth parting and his tongue slides against yours. There’s a hot flash rushing all over you as your body pulses with want; Wonwoo has always been a great kisser, capable of surrendering you putty in his hands.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He kisses you again and again and again, as if someone might take you away. He kisses you like he wants to carve his identity in your soul. He kisses you so messy and hungry that your teeth actually clack and the sounds of your lips dragging roughly and tongues rubbing against each other fills the air around you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo can probably taste the alcohol, if the way he moans is anything to go by.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

It is dirty, lewd and so fucking hot you feel the fight leaving your body momentarily along with your breath, lungs burning with the lack of oxygen. There are a few tears gathering in the corner of your eyes, and you don’t even realize their presence, but then, and only then, Wonwoo pulls away. He bites at your lower lip one more time, a lewd string of saliva connecting your mouths for a short while before it breaks.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Seems like you suddenly forgot who’s name you scream when you’re getting railed,” Wonwoo tells you, voice poisonous and labored breath caressing the skin of your neck. “Should I remind you?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Y-yes,” you moan out, enjoying the proposal, but it only serves to make Wonwoo scoff.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I think you need to learn how to respect me first,” he says instead, and there’s butterflies swarming together in your belly, chest still heaving for air.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Will you punish me if I don’t?” you retort, staring him right back in the eyes.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo growls.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You better shut the fuck up before I make you regret,” he says, and you feel a shiver rocking so bad on your body that your hips collide into Wonwoo’s, his half hard cock pressing against your stomach. The feeling makes you moan.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Why would I?” you ask, trembling voice giving away how much this all affects you. “I want this.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There’s a bit of silence before you continue.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Make me regret.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck,” Wonwoo groans, biting on your neck again, this time so far up that you won’t be able to hide it that easily. “So needy you can’t even think about anything else other than having a cock drilling into you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo kisses your moan away, sucks at your bottom lip until it’s swollen. Then, he puts three fingers in your mouth, like he’s telling you to shut up.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo turns his head to look down at your shuddering frame trapped between the side of the car and him. You don’t look up, too focused on sucking at his long fingers, but when Wonwoo starts to move his arm that was occupied by your mouth, you stir, and look up to meet his eyes.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

They’re dark, with a glint in them you could only recognize as devious and wicked and so so so mean. It’s the same glint he gets when he’s about to deal out a punishment, or tease you enough that you believe it’s a punishment. It makes the hair on the back of your neck stand, and a bead of sweat drips from your eyebrow. You wonder what you’ve got yourself in for the night when you both get home.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

As if on cue, answering your arousal hazed thoughts, the hand that was slowly doing a dangerous path down your body settles itself on the front of your pants. It’s heavy on your clit, and you can feel Wonwoo digging his fingers into your entrance. You barely have the sense to react, and even if you could, you reminded yourself you weren’t home yet. Wonwoo now has his hand groping your pussy in public.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your face flushes a dark red at the realization, feeling humiliated and embarrassed under Wonwoo’s grip. If someone were to see, they’d get arrested for sure. Wonwoo’s hand has a strong grip on your clit, fingers quickly slipping past the thick fabric of your denim jeans and lace panties so he could press the pad of it against your naked and wet folds.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You whine quietly, and now that the hold on your jaw has been set loose, you nestle your face further into the crook of Wonwoo’s neck. With a grip on Wonwoo’s jacket, you feel him angling his head so it rests against the top of your head.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

��Wait, f-fuck, someone might see us!” you whisper-yell at him, but Wonwoo only hums and steps in closer. Your chests are flush together and he towers over your frame easily enough to hide you between him and the car. “Wonwoo—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your sentence gets interrupted by your own moan when he presses a finger inside of you. You quiver, legs trembling, and you let the realization that Wonwoo is about to finger you publicly sink into your stomach. You know that the streets are deserted and there’s not one single soul around there since it’s so late, but the thought of it still has you gasping.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wait? But weren’t you the one complaining about me making you wait all the time?” Wonwoo bites back, tone mean and unforgiving when he fucks his finger inside of you. He sounds almost angry and it’s making you so damn horny. “Earlier you were looking at me with such a hunger. I bet you were thinking about me fucking you in front of everyone, weren’t you, baby?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You moan because yes, that was exactly what you were thinking. His hand lets go of your wrists when he adds another finger inside of you. It burns a little, you think, but enjoys the pain as your arms fly up to circle around his neck and pull him closer. Wonwoo goes easily, mouth finding yours and fingers fucking inside you in a way that has you squirming.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He soon gives attention to your neck, kissing all over it before sucking a wet blotch against the skin right underneath your jaw. Wonwoo pulls away, looking at it for a while like it gives him some sort of feral satisfaction to see you bearing one of his marks.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wonwoo, I’m n-not—” your words break off into a whine, struggling to form sentences. “Not— g-gonna be able to hide the, ah, hickey i-if you suck it that far up.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Good,” Wonwoo says, and his mouth finds your neck. You scratch his scalp when he sucks again, this time harder, his arm coming to help you up when your legs give in. “Want everyone to know you’re mine. Only mine to fuck, to breed, to love, to cherish, to make you my little slut.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You throw your head, back arching off of the car and mouth opening to let a high pitched moan scape you. Wonwoo then adds another finger, the third one, and gyrates them so hard inside you you actually feel like you’re seeing stars, figuratively and realistically — the night sky above you is adorned with a few of them.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Acting like a brat and riling me up like that, this is what you wanted, isn’t that right, princess?” Wonwoo spits out, lips pressed into a thin line as if he’s getting more and more angry at his own words. “If I didn’t stop you right there, would you have continued dancing with that dude, huh? Would you maybe have made out with him?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You try to answer, maybe tease him back again, but you can’t even form a coercive sentence. The only thing you can do is hold onto Wonwoo like your life depends on it as he fucks you furiously with his fingers, and take whatever he’s willing to give it to you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Do you think he could finger you like this?” Wonwoo says poisonously, hand squeezing at your ass hard enough that you think it’s gonna leave the print of his fingers. “Think he would have a bigger cock than mine?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He ruts against you as if to prove his point, hard and so fucking big it has you breathless. You know how your boyfriend is well-endowed, know he could make you feel him for days after a good fuck and your mouth salivates. Wonwoo presses the pad of his fingers in your sweet spot, jamming against it without pulling out with quick movements, and you feel like you’re going insane.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Since you put a lot of effort into being a fucking brat today, I will give you what you want, sweetheart,” Wonwoo laughs a little, almost as if he’s mocking you, and your whole face burns in pleasurable humiliation. “I’m gonna be rough. I’m gonna fuck you hard and fast against every surface of our house, gonna make you scream my name so everyone knows you belong to me, gonna use you, make you my little ragdoll and dump you full of my cum until you’re all heavy and swollen with it.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wonwoo— your f-fuck, fucking dirty mouth, ah—” you thrash in his grip, nestling your face further into his neck and he knew, he knew all along what was your intention with the way you were acting, and you hold tight on his hair, hearing him growl when you pull at it. “I’m gonna come. Gonna cum s-so fucking hard, fuck—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I’ll make it hurt,” Wonwoo warns, his lips ghosting at the shell of your ear and hot breath tickling your sensitive skin, brings goosebumps all over it. “But I’ll make it feel good.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The pleasure builds quickly and you throw your head back with a loud moan, orgasm almost hitting you like a train.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

But then, everything stops. Wonwoo pulls away, fingers slipping out of you and he wipes them in his jeans. He then goes through his pocket and grabs the car keys, the familiar beep sound echoing through the empty streets when he clicks a button on the key chain, and it’s got you completely dumbfounded.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Come on, get in the car, baby,” Wonwoo states simply, like he didn’t just make the best orgasm of your life ebb away. Frustration sinks deep within your bones and you groan, turning to look at him like he just committed a war crime.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Why did you— why did you stop?” you question, heart almost jumping out of your chest and you feel like you’re going to actually die if you don’t get to come soon. “I was just there!”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Oh, sweetheart,” Wonwoo coos at you like he finds what you just said endearing. Face flushing dark red, you get completely embarrassed with how quick he makes you feel small. “You thought I was going to make you cum?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo comes closer, holds your chin softly, a total contrast to what he says then.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Poor baby, I’m actually going to do the exact opposite.” he pecks your lips once. “Gonna edge you until you cry.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He goes around the car and opens the door for you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Now get in, baby. Don’t make me repeat myself,” Wonwoo says, tone leaving no room for arguments, and you gulp before obeying.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo closes the door for you when you finish settling yourself inside, and goes to the driver’s seat. You watch him turn the car on as you put your seatbelt, whining when your cunt throbs in need. When he starts driving you try your best to move as quietly as you can, squirming a little until you can smooth your fingers through your clit. You gyrate them once, pleasure swarming all over your body, before Wonwoo’s voice wakes you up from your short haze.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“No touching yourself,” he admonishes with a tsk and you groan, frustrated. He’s still looking at the road and you don’t even know how he managed to figure it out that you were touching yourself.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Staring out of the window, your thighs rub together every time the car shakes a little. Your mind supplies unnecessary images of your boyfriend fucking you, and you curse a little. Even trying to imagine disgusting things wouldn’t delete Wonwoo’s words from earlier out of your head, and you’re getting more and more excited by the second.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wonwon…” you sigh, almost a whisper, hips moving in the air and hands coming to grab at one of your breasts. You smirk, content when you hear him growl.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I said not to touch yourself,” Wonwoo’s knuckles turn white with how hard he grips the steering wheel. “Should I tie you up in our bed and leave you untouched or are you going to start obeying me?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“But you’re not doing anything,” you whine, wanting nothing else then to come.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You don’t know what I’m capable of,” Wonwoo says, voice low and dead serious.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I don’t think you know either.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The car comes to a complete stop right after you say that. You gulp, realizing Wonwoo has already parked in your private garage. He gets out of the car and goes to your side, opening the door, still in complete silence.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Turn this way,” he orders, voice one octave lower, and you gasp at the roughness of it. “Now.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You spring into action, take your seatbelt off, doing as you’re told, and as soon as you finish turning to him with your legs outside of the car, he gets on his knees.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“W-Wonwoo,” it’s the only thing you manage to say as you watch him work with your pants after taking your shoes off. He ends up popping the button off but you don’t have it in you to complain, not when he’s looking like that.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo finishes taking your jeans off, throwing somewhere in the garage, and then he grabs at both sides of the collar of your shirt. You frown, confused with the action, but then his hands are pulling, and he rips it in half.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wonwoo,” you moan, beyond turned on as he does the same to your penties. Your clothes are torn apart but you can’t think of anything else other than fuck me fuck me fuck me. “I—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo kisses you shut, lips dragging hard against yours, and you feel his hands at your thighs before he pulls at them enough so that you slip on your seat. He uses the grip to open your legs for him, not even giving you a break to understand what’s going on before sucking on your clit hard.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your back arches, hands scrambling to hold on something — one of them finds the steering wheel and the other finds the wadding of the seat, body thrashing everywhere before Wonwoo pins your hips down in place — knows better than to shove his face in your cunt as you originally wanted to do.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He licks between your folds one, two, three times; the tip of his tongue prods inside your already loose entrance, and fuck if you didn’t moan, high pitched and greedy for more. Wonwoo inserts more of it until his nose is pressed against your clit, doing a sound in the back of his throat that sends just right. The wetness of his tongue feels so good pressing against your cores and kicking at your soft folds.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“W-Wonwoo, fuck— f-feels so good—” Wonwoo thrusts his tongue inside you, and you feel like you’re seeing stars, especially when he presses just right. “Ah! Shit, your f-fucking tongue—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo has to hold you down tighter, your body unable to stay put as you thrash around. You feel tempted to think how your neighbors could probably hear you, but your boyfriend is sucking the life out of you through your pussy and you can’t concentrate well enough to elaborate the thought.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

It’s when Wonwoo curls his tongue just right that has you thinking you would ascend to heaven soon.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck! I, ah— Wanna cum, Wonwon, I’m coming, please— let me cum this time,” you manage to get out, writhing and legs kicking everywhere. “Please!”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

But, of course Wonwoo, being the little shit he is, pulls away. Tears gather in your eyes as you groan out of frustration, and Wonwoo is just so mean.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Shit—” you cry out, watching his shit eating grin. You hate but love at the same time the way he’s absolutely enjoying seeing you so desperate for a release. “Y-you’re so mean.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Are you gonna stop being a brat now?” Wonwoo raises a brow at you, licking his lips. You shiver, knowing that he’s tasting you by the pleased hum he makes after.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck you,” you spit it out, too horny and angry to care.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Is that so?” he hums, looking at you as if you’re his prey, to which you’re starting to believe you actually are. “Maybe I should put a gag in this dirty little mouth of yours.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo traces a thumb in your lower lip like he’s considering the thought.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“But I think I’m just gonna fuck that attitude out of you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You can’t even bring yourself to enjoy the comment before he pulls on your wrist so hard you get up from the seat, body colliding into his. Wonwoo’s mouth finds yours, the kiss messy and hungry and angry, to the point it makes your legs weak. Your hands scramble to take his shirt off right after you manage to throw his belt somewhere, and you stop for a moment to admire the hard planes of his abs.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo must be the hottest person alive. How can someone have such a handsome face and have a body that looks like it’s sculpted by the gods? He’s getting stronger with his gym practices and it's making you weak.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You might actually drool if you keep staring like that,” Wonwoo says, half joking and half serious, but you blush anyways.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Just—” you try, breath labored and chest heaving. “J-just rail me. Use me.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yeah? Want me to treat you like the slut you are?” his lewd question makes you tremble and nod your head. “Speak.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Y-yes, please—” you beg, revolve slowly breaking in.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Of course you do,” he answers, voice a few octave lowers again, and he grabs a fistful of your hair. Wonwoo pulls at it until your head is thrown back, his face right above yours. “Open your mouth.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You’re quick to obey, mouth parting as he hovers over you, the only thing keeping you up is one of his arms around your waist.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And oh god, you’re certainly not expecting when he fucking spits into your mouth, a hand coming to press against your jaw and make you close your lips, but you sure as hell want him to do it again.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Swallow.” Wonwoo orders, and you moan, doing as you’re told. He looks at you with a feral satisfaction, eyes dark and so full of hunger it stunts you into silence. It’s like there’s this lustful wish of him to break you in until you don’t belong to anyone else but him, and that’s so fucking hot.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He kisses you for what feels like the hundredth time — not that you’re complaining, he could kiss you for one hundred more and you’d still beg for it. But this time there’s something different, something urgent, and he grasps the back of your thighs when he finishes taking his clothes off and fish something from the pocket of his pants, hefting you up in the air, your legs circling around his waist automatically.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo doesn’t break the messy kiss as he walks through the garage, opening the door that leads to the inside of the house. He doesn’t waste time before slamming you into it as soon as he closes it, your back hitting the wooden frame with a loud thud as the two of you make out like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There’s too much tongue and too much spit and too much teeth, but the dirtiness of it all is what makes it even more hot.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Want you,” you whine out, realizing that what Wonwoo took out of his pants earlier was a package of lube.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He rips at the top and pours at his hands, reaching behind you to stroke his hard cock, groaning at the feeling as he lines up with your entrance. The wet head nudges your rim softly, but it slips through your folds. You look at Wonwoo only to realize he’s already staring at you, devious glint in his eyes.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You’re about to tell him to hurry up when a moan is punched out of you, high pitched and needy, because Wonwoo fucked his cock inside you in one go, nearly knocking the breath right out of your lungs. Your nails scratch all over his back and he groans at the feeling, hips kicking into you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You like that?” he questions, rhetorically of course, and grinds his hips until they are flushed against your ass. You gasp for air, feeling full to the brim, and the burn in your cunt is just so good. “Think I don’t know about your little plans to rile me up?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo even has the audacity to laugh, jamming inside you with slow but deep thrusts.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“How you get more handsy with your friends when I’m around,” he grits out, anger bleeding through his thoughts and thrusts like he just hates the idea of you touching more intimately other people. “And you look at me with those eyes. Like you’re begging me to claim you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Holy fuck, Jeon Wonwoo is fucking you standing up and you’re not dreaming.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo is full on mercilessly ramming you now, sending you body into the door with every plunge of his cock, the sound of your back hitting the wood obscenely loud. It leaves you putty, can just take what he’s giving you, hands holding him for dear life.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Should’ve put you on your knees right in front of that guy,” Wonwoo continues, breath ragged from effort. “Make you choke on my cock so he knows who you belong to.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo grabs your ass with his hands, palms sinking into the flash as he propels you back every time he fucks up. It makes the drag of his thickness press right through all the good spots.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Should’ve bent you over the bar counter and fucked you hard until you scream my fucking name,” he growls out, the veins on his neck and arms bulging. You tighten around him in answer to the sinful view. “Fuck, your pussy is so greedy. Always so tight—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo angles his hips just right and hits against your sweet spot so suddenly that your climax — which was already at bay — escalates quickly to the point it sends your mind into a frenzy.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And, for the third time, Wonwoo slows down, hips flush against your ass he can nudge his cockhead right above your sweet spot, missing it on purpose. Your eyes prickle with tears, and it doesn’t take long for them to run down your face; the first one goes reluctantly, but after that they start cascading down your cheeks uncontrollably.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“So beautiful,” Wonwoo groans at the sight of you crying for him, pecking one of your tears strained cheek. “I’ve broken you in, haven’t I?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“P-please, Wonwon— Please, please, please let me c-come,” you sob, all the want to be a brat gone from your body. The overwhelming need grows so exponentially big inside of you you feel like you’re going to explode if you don’t orgasm. “W-wanna cum on your cock, please, ah—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo is moaning, louder than he has all day, and the satisfaction of seeing you give up on your fight and beg for him makes his hips pick up a brutal pace. You gasp, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck and biting at the untouched skin.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“So pretty when you beg,” he compliments, and you actually find surprising your ability to blush even when you’re being dicked down this good. “Does it feel good, sweetheart?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Y-yes— Ah! Hmmm, shit—” you mumble, struggling to get words out. It’s difficult to keep your voice steady enough to say anything with the way you’re bouncing like a ragdoll on Wonwoo’s hold. “Love this— L-love you, ruin me, Wonwoo, Wonwon—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo pulls your head backward with a fistful of your hair, baring your neck so that he could attack it with bites and hickeys all over. You’re sure that, by the end of this night, you’re going to be looking like some type of sexual Christmas tree, but the thought of baring your boyfriend’s marks after sex only turns you on. And he seems pretty intent on that, wanting to claim you in all ways possible.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Say it,” Wonwoo commands, but you don’t understand, can’t understand with your mind being in such a pleasurable haze. He fucks up right in the time he pulls you back down by your waist, downright impaling you on his cock. “Say you’re mine.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Y-yours,” you answer, fingers intertwining through Wonwoo’s dark strands of hair. “I’m yours.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Again,” Wonwoo growls out, basking in your pleads and moans and screams of pleasure.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yours,” you repeat, and he bites on your lower lip. You have enough of a mind presence to admire his bulging biceps contorting with your weight, and his huge test firm and sweaty from the effort.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Again,” his possessive side gets the best of him, admiring all the marks he has left in your neck. “Say it again.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yours, ah!” a moan breaks at the end of the word, Wonwoo’s thrusts getting rougher, faster and there’s heat pooling down on your lower stomach. “I’m y-yours, all yours, only yours.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yes, mine,” Wonwoo agrees, holding your smaller frame tightly against his. “Mine,” he echoes again, muscles trembling from fucking you standing up.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo kisses you, the best he can with the harsh movement of your body going up and down on his cock.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I love you so much,” he tells you, voice soft and rough at the same time. “I have always been only yours.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I’m gonna come, I’m g-going to— going to come,” you state after his words, the pull on your lower stomach growing impossibly higher, and it’s almost unbearable. “Please, fuck, please l-let— cum— let m-me cum! I have been g-good, please, Wonwon—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

”Such a good girl for me. The best girl,” Wonwoo praises, angling his hips a little so he can press his cockhead against your sweet spot every time he fucks inside. “Come on, you can cum, sweetheart.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your eyes roll so far back in your head you’re momentarily afraid they are never coming back. White hot pleasure surges in your body, the sheer intensity of your high sends your mind into a mess. The feeling of your walls clenching like a vice around Wonwoo’s cock sends him over the edge too, and the sensation of his cum shooting inside your walls only serves to add up to what you think it’s the best orgasm of your life, mind going completely blank.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

This might have been totally different from what you’ve originally planned but you know what? You’re definitely going to use this plan more often now.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen smut #seventeen imagine #wonwoo smut #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo #wonwoo imagine #svt imagines #jeon wonwoo #seventeen x reader #possessive wonwoo coming to destroy everyone #including me #svt smut #jeon wonwoo smut

2K notes · View notes

streamafterlaughter · 2 years ago

Text

New Kid

gif credit

Chapter XII: Pretty Boy

masterlist | chapter XI | playlist

summary: The adrenaline of your first live performance pulls you forward, and the night goes on as you and Eddie figure each other out a little further.

tags: angst, tooth rotting fluff, smut, idiots in love, eddie munson x gnc!afab!reader, weed, alcohol, some violence.

a/n: very excited for these next chapters. hoping this story will wrap up nicely by next month (maybe!), thank you to everyone that enjoyed it, and i hope to see y’all back for the sequel (wink 😉) Disclaimer: I do not give permission to have my work reposted on other sites. Reblogs are more than welcome, but please inform me if you find my work elsewhere unless otherwise stated.

Your POV

The conversations of celebration die with Jason’s presence, like hes absorbing everyone else’s good mood to fuel his own hatred.

“Why are you even here?” Robin spits before taking a swig of her drink. She makes a good point.

“I had to see what all the fuss was about! Edward talks a big game about his little freaks, had to make sure I wasn’t missin’ out!” You can practically taste the whiskey on his breath as he slurs.

“Okay, so you’ve seen. Leave us alone now.” You keep your voice low, attempting to keep the attention on you to a minimum. “There’s no reason for you to talk to us.”

“What, can’t I get an autograph? Bet it’ll be worth hundreds when you’re rich and famous.” He nudges his bodyguard, as if he’s just made an incredibly funny joke. “I’ll make sure to toss you some change when I see you playing in the street in a few years.”

“Dude,” Steve nudges past Robin to approach Jason, calling more attention to your table in the corner. “Back off.”

“What’re you gonna do, Hair? Sick the girls on me?”

“Actually,” Eddie moves from behind you to face the basketball captain. You notice his fist is already clenched, and you look up to see his jaw is too. “I’ll sick myself on you. Again. What did I tell you? You’re like a fucking parasite. A goddamn leech.” You rest your hand on Eddie’s shoulder in an attempt to calm him, but he shrugs away from you, and it feels like a bee sting.

“C’mon, freak, we both know that was a one time thing. I’m here to support my local music scene!”

It’s then that you glance over to Chrissy, who’s biting her fingernails as she watches her boyfriend embarrass himself. You shove past Jason, who’s still rambling about how oh so important rock music is “to people like you.”

“Hi,” You close in on the cheerleader, who snaps out of her trance to look at you.

“Oh, gosh, hi.” She’s clearly embarrassed, and you feel bad for her. It’s not her fault her boyfriend’s a tool, but it is kind of her fault he’s still her boyfriend.

“Enjoy the show?”

Chrissy nods with what seems like genuine enthusiasm. “You guys are great, I was really excited to see you. I invited Jason, which I realize now was a mistake, but he doesn’t like when I go out without him, and I thought he’d see how talented you are, and maybe just leave you guys alone. I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head. “You shouldn't be apologizing for him. I know it isn’t my business, but I hope you don’t feel like you need to stay with him. You deserve better, and no one deserves that.”

Chrissy can’t meet your eyes, hers are now glued to the beer soaked floor. “I know. We’ve been together since we were freshmen. He wasn’t always like this, he was sweet! He treated me like a princess, was kind to anyone that crossed his path. Then he joined the basketball team, and he started getting more attention. I guess it went to his head. He was the one who wanted me to try out for cheerleading. I was more interested in drama.”

Your heart aches for the girl, such a kind soul with so much love, and nowhere good to put it. You’re about to respond when her attention is caught by a collective shout from behind you. You turn to see the source, to find your boyfriend hunched over holding his chin, and Chrissy’s boyfriend with his fist still raised. Steve tries to launch himself forward, but Eddie shoves his arm out to stop him. He pounces forward instead, his fist connecting with Jason's nose and sending him toppling to the ground. You look back to Chrissy, who’s standing frozen with her mouth agape like a silent shriek. She meets your eyes for half a second, pleading with you. It’s not much, but it propels you back into the thick of the crowd.

Eddie’s still standing over Jason, his fist dripping with the blood from the jock’s nose, when the bouncer approaches the table. “Hey!” The large, muscled man hollers in an authoritative growl. “Take it outside and I won’t call the fuckin’ cops.”

Eddie looks from the guard, to Jason, then to you. You don’t know what he reads in your eyes, but instead of returning to your side, he shoves past the crowd and into the freezing night.

—

Eddie’s POV

“C’mon, c’mon.” He flicks his lighter again, finally able to get a flame to his cigarette before the wind blows it out again. He inhales, closing his eyes as the nicotine rushes to his head. His hand throbs from punching that fucker, and he flexes it to make sure his precious fingers aren’t busted. They aren’t, just brutally sore.

“Hey.” Your soft voice, Eddie’s saving grace, is carried to his ears with the wind. He turns around, and gives you his best grin, but when he steps toward you, you take a step back. His face falters, and you take a deep breath. “I can’t keep doing this, Eddie.”

His heart feels like it’s about to come up his throat, along with the contents of his stomach. “Do what?”

You pause, as if the words are stuck in your mouth, but Eddie can already feel them against his temples. “Tonight was supposed to be special. This is my first show of any kind, ever, and I had to watch you punch that fucker in the face again.”

“Wait, you know he punched me first, right?” He doesn’t mean for it to come out angry, but he hears it as it leaves his mouth.

“Eddie, Jason’s seriously unstable when he drinks, and you know that. You provoked him. I don’t know if it’s your pride, or your need to protect me, or what, but you can’t just solve your problems with your fists. I can’t keep watching you do it, either.” Your voice breaks, and Eddie feels his breath catch in his throat.

“So I’ll stop. I’ll let it roll right off my back, even when he’s dissing my person.” Eddie crosses his arms over his chest to ground himself, feeling his emotions getting the best of him.

You snatch the cigarette from his hand, bringing the blood stained stick to your mouth. “I can take care of myself.”

“So you get to be violent?”

“I didn’t say with my fists!”

“No, just a fucking steak knife, right?”

—

Your POV

He’s got you there. “I didn’t draw any blood!” It’s a weak argument, but it’s all you have.

Eddie rolls his eyes before plucking his cigarette back. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, not here, not right after your performance.”

You nod. “I appreciate it.”

“Fucker still inside?”

You shake your head. “Turns out security had watched his little performance and kicked him out. Said he was instigating us all.” You shrug, and take a step closer to Eddie, who doesn’t move. He still doesn’t move when you wrap your arms around his neck, and even when you bring your lips to his. He doesn’t hold you, doesn’t lean into the kiss. When you open your eyes, he’s staring off into space. “Where are you, pretty boy?” You whisper, inches away from his face.

“Somewhere better. Somewhere happy.”

“Am I there?” You’re scared of his answer, but the question brings him back to earth.

“You’re always there, sweetheart.” His smile is sad, but he brings his lips back to yours, giving you a small peck. “Shall we return to the public?”

You shrug, taking his presented hand in yours. “I guess so.”

—

“Whoa, dude, lemme see!” Jonathan and Eddie are examining his wounded hand. Jonathan brings his camera to his face, pointing the lense at Eddie’s clenched fist. “I’ll definitely be sure to get you this pic, might make a sick album cover.”

“Thanks, man!” Eddie chuckles before giving him a pat on the shoulder.

“You alright?” Steve grabs your attention, his eyes wide with worry.

You shrug, “I will be. Just need this year to end already.”

“Well, it’s right around the corner. Christmas is next week, then before you know it, it’s 1986, you’re graduating, and who knows, maybe you’ll finally get the hell out of here.”

“I haven’t even been here that long!”

“Hawkins will drain you ten times faster than any other city. That’s just how it works.”

You take another gulp of your drink, willing yourself to feel its effects. “Eddie needs out, too.”

Steve nods, sipping his beer. “I know. It wouldn’t hurt for any of us to get out of here at this point. But he's not your responsibility, y’know?”

“I know, I know.” You look back to Eddie, who’s now twirling with Robin on the dance floor to Everybody Wants to Rule The World. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” You slam your palms on the table, pushing yourself to your feet, and offer Steve your hand. “But tonight, we dance!” Steve chuckles, slapping his own hand into yours, and you lead him to the floor to meet Robin and Eddie.

“Mind if I cut in?” You ask, and Robin clumsily bows away as you turn to face Eddie. He places his hands gingerly on your waist, like you’re suddenly made of fire. You clasp your own hands around his neck. “Are you okay?”

“I ruined your night. I'm brooding.” Eddie takes a gulp of the beer he’d been clutching. His eyes are glassy, and you can tell he’s had a little too much to drink.

You roll your eyes. “The brooding is making it worse.” You give his lips a peck, attempting to get him to look at you, but he won’t. “Eddie.”

“Yes, darlin’?”

“I love you.”

“Mm?”

“I love you. Can you look at me, please?”

His eyes focus on yours finally, and there is no light behind them. “You didn’t ruin my night. I just don’t like what happened. I don’t think any less of you, I don’t like you any less. This isn’t a deal breaker. Believe me, Jason is not worth losing you to. Get me?”

The smile you love creeps slowly back into his face. “Got you.”

“Good. Tell Jonathan I want that picture he took.”

Eddie’s smile lights up. “Actually, wait one sec.” Eddie let’s go of you, and rushes over to Jonathan at the table. You watch as Jonathan takes his camera from around his neck and hands it to Eddie, who charges back toward you. “Come with me.” He pulls you towards the bathrooms, which are dingy green stalls covered in phone numbers and angsty haikus.

“What are you doing?!” You’re whispering in case the stalls are occupied. Eddie backs you into the middle stall, and locks the door behind him.

“For posterity.” Eddie holds the camera to his face, pointing the lense at you. “Smile, pretty!”

You flip the camera off instead, coaxing a laugh from a very tipsy Eddie. He then turns the camera around, and poses next to you, sticking his tongue out and licking your cheek as he presses the button again. “I wanna take one more. Do you mind?” Eddie reaches his wounded hand up to your neck, but doesn’t touch you.

“Go for it.”

Eddie’s expression darkens, and he wraps his fingers around your throat. He doesn’t add pressure, just rests his fingers around your neck like a soft hug, and fiddles with the camera with his other. Finally, he clicks the shutter, sending a blinding flash in your direction.

“That’ll be sick album art someday.” He moves to let you go, but you bring your own hand up to hold his still. Eddie raises his eyebrows at you, and you try to make your expression do the talking for you.

Eddie pretends he doesn’t get the hint. “What’s up, babe? You don’t wanna go back out there?”

You shake your head slowly, using your other hand to hook a finger into his belt loop and tug him towards you. “You sure? This bathroom is filthy.”

“Please, this place is spotless compared to what you’re about to do to me.” (smut starts)

In response, Eddie presses his body into yours, and locks your lips to his hungrily. The hand he’s got locked around your throat tightens as his tongue prods your mouth open. He slots his thigh between your legs, and a gasp escapes your lips as he grinds against you.

Swiftly, Eddie’s free hand moves between you, unbuttoning first your pants, and then moves to unbuckle his belt.

“Is this what our life is now? Quickies in grimy bathrooms?” Eddie asks breathlessly between kisses.

“Only part of it.” You laugh lightly, sliding your hand down his stomach. “We can fuck in hotel rooms, too.”

Eddie pulls away from you, and you giggle. “Or on a tour bus, even!”

“You gonna come on tour with me?” Eddie realizes the double entendre and chuckles.

“No, you’re gonna come with me.” You don’t let him answer, connecting your lips to his again as your hand slips under the waistband of his boxers. Eddie moans into your mouth as you stroke him, his hips thrusting towards you as he slides his hands under your shirt to grip your waist. His hand slips between your legs, his fingers rubbing quick circles on your clit over the fabric of your underwear.

His mouth moves to your throat, and you yank Eddie’s pants further down his legs, tugging his boxers off with them. “Eager, are we?” He slurs before licking a stripe up your throat to behind your ear. Eddie easily slides under the lace, his finger finding your clit like a magnet. You arch your back to his touch, desperately trying not to make a sound. “You’re fucking wet!” Eddie pulls back, clearly surprised by your reaction. You cock an eyebrow at his shock. “Thought you weren’t into fucking in a public bathroom?”

“Is that what this is about?”

“You said some guy did this with you but you weren’t into it. You’re clearly very into it now.” Eddie smirks, like he’s nailed it.

You roll your eyes. “Did you ever consider maybe I’m just into you?”

He ponders the thought for a moment, and you use his distraction to connect your lips again. Shivering with nerves, you busy yourself wiggling out of your own pants, eventually dropping them to the floor. Eddie lifts you up, and you wrap your legs around him. He stares you down as he moves the lace of your panties to the side, and you clutch the top of the stall as he enters you, never breaking eye contact. The brightness behind them has returned, and you can’t bring yourself to look away.

The flimsy walls of the frame shake as he thrusts, and you muffle your moans into the hand he’s cupped around your mouth. With each time Eddie bucks his hips, you feel the buzzing in your gut grow, and the shit he’s whispering to you isn’t helping. “You’re so fucking pretty, baby. I wanna watch you come. Wanna see that pretty mouth open for me. Need you to be quiet, though, alright?” You nod, eyes wide as he removes his hand, stopping for you to suck his middle finger. It doesn’t take long after for you to come, the adrenaline of possibly being caught adding fuel to your senses. You gasp and hook your legs tighter around him. He watches your face contort as you come, your eyes rolling back as he still thrusts into you.

“Yeah, fuck,” Eddie grunts when he feels you clench around him, your legs tightening around his waist. “So fuckin’ pretty, baby. Fuckin’ perfect.” He bottoms out a final time before you feel him come inside you, rushing into your throbbing cunt. You moan quietly as he fixes into the crook of your neck, tensing slightly as he pulls himself out.

Once you’ve stopped writhing, Eddie grips you by the waist again, and lowers you to the sticky bathroom floor. You retrieve your pants, clutching them in front of you like you weren’t just dick riding the man in front of you. Eddie can’t help letting a cackle slip at the blush on your face. “How do you feel about public bathroom sex now?” (smut ends)

The glare you give him could cut glass. “Still fucking disgusting.” You shove your legs back into your pants, feeling them stick to your legs with sweat. “Can we go home now?”

Eddie wrestles with his belt, struggling to adjust while looking at you. “Yours or mine?”

—

Eddie’s POV

“Goodnight, guys! See you tomorrow for some last minute shopping!” You exit the BMW and he’s on your heels, both your boots crunching in the frozen snow. The trailer door whips open in the wind, and the warmth hits his face like a welcome caress.

“Movie?” Eddie asks, grabbing the giant fleece off the back of the couch.

“Sure, I’m gonna go shower first, still covered in, uh, sweat.” You shuffle your way to the bathroom and Eddie lights a joint. He lets his mind wander, wallowing in the shame of his behavior earlier that evening. He knows he shouldn’t have punched Jason, even though Jason started it. He isn’t used to caring enough about someone to act on it, and he’s still figuring out the nuances.

He picks the rose you gave him out of his inner jacket pocket, bringing it to his nose. His heart swells remembering your words. He’d inspired you. He’d never been told that before. He knows he’s inspired the kids, pulling them out of their nerdy shells, but no one’s ever thanked him for it, it was never something he expected. Especially not from you, someone so sure of themselves usually, so confident in your own skin.

Eddie’s thoughts are interrupted when he hears you turn the water off, and he scrambled to his movie shelf. None of the titles are speaking to him, having no interest in distracting himself from his time with you. He hears the bathroom door creak open, and turns to watch you walk out, your hair wet, wearing his Iron Maiden t-shirt.

—

Your POV

You notice him staring and flash him a grin. “Hey, pretty boy. What did you choose?”

Eddie grabs a tape and tosses it on the couch without looking at the title. “That one.” He says, pointing at it.

You pick the tape up. The cover is Tom Cruise, his sunglasses resting on his nose as he glared into the camera. “Risky Business? Seriously?”

Eddie shrugs and holds his hand out. You place the tape in his open palm, and he turns to place it in the machine. You pluck the joint he’d been smoking from the ash tray and bring it to your lips, draping your legs across Eddie’s lap as he sits down.

The two of you pass the weed between you, talking and giggling over the movie that’s really only providing background noise. “You were incredible tonight.” Eddie says after inhaling again, his eyes meeting yours with sincerity in them.

You pinch the paper between your fingers. “It was just one song, not even mine. I guess we were okay.”

“Will you stop that?” Eddie scoots closer to you, and you rest your head on his shoulder.

“Stop what?”

“Doubting yourself. Making yourself small. You conquered a fear tonight, Y/n. That’s huge.”

You nuzzle further into the crook of his neck, feeling your cheeks warm with his compliments. “It helped having you there.” You mumble, then turn your head to kiss the spot under his jaw. You watch his eyes close as you do, and you kiss him again. “It always helps having you here.”

Eddie doesn’t respond for a moment, and you continue peppering kisses on his neck and cheek, desperate to keep touching him. His breathing is heavy, his eyes closed as he relishes in your touch. “Thank you.” It’s barely a whisper, but Eddie hears you, his eyes blinking open in confusion.

“You don’t have to thank me. I didn’t do anything but stand there. This is all you.” He faces forward as he says it, wordlessly asking you to keep touching him. You oblige, letting your fingers trace his neck.

“I wouldn’t have been able to go up there without you standing there. It mattered.”

Eddie tightens his grip on your waist, and you scoot even closer to him, resting your legs in his lap. You could sit like this forever, with Eddie’s hand ghosting the skin of your waist under your shit, your body wrapped around him like you’re clinging to a tree branch. “Promise me something?” Eddie’s looking at you now, and you meet his eyes that are now filled with genuine concern.

“What’s that?” you ask, heart beating a little faster than usual.

Eddie’s POV

“We’ll always find each other.”

You tilt your head in question, unsure what he’s getting at. Eddie continues, “When you’re stuck in your nightmares, or when I’m fighting my ego, we’ll find each other. Bring each other back down to earth. When we’re rich and famous and far away from here, we’ll still find each other.”

He can feel his eyes welling at his own words. He can’t imagine losing you, letting you go or watching you leave, not after everything he’s seen. When you nod your head, Eddie feels the tightness in his chest dissipate. “I promise. I’ll always find you.” You seal the words with a kiss, one that grows more desperate as Eddie grips your face in his hand. He lets the tears fall, his eyes screwed shut as you kiss him. It scares him, how he feels about you. Nothing in his life had prepared him for someone like you to love him. He knows he’s broken, that he’ll fuck up constantly. Something in his gut keeps telling him he doesn’t have forever with you, that he’ll make an unfixable mistake and push you away.

Your lips separate from his then, and he’s roused from his spiral to your eyes opening to look at him. He watches you notice his tears, and as you move to kiss each cheek gently. Your eyelashes tickle his skin, tugging the corners of his mouth into a smile. He closes his eyes again as more salty tears run from them, his breath hitching as he tries to catch it. You kiss each fallen drop, catching them like a kid tries to catch snowflakes on their tongue.

Neither of you know what time it is when you finally rise to your feet. Eddie throws you over his shoulder, earning a delighted shriek from you, and carries you to his room, where he gently tosses you into his bed.

You watch as Eddie yanks his shirt over his head, and he smirks as you cross your legs tightly. He strips his jeans off quickly before climbing onto the bed, unnecessarily crawling over your body before plopping himself down next to you. “Goodnight, sweetheart.” He whispers.

“Goodnight, pretty boy.” You kiss the top of his head. He listens to your heart as he lies his head on your chest, draping his arm around your waist. He feels your hand on his back, tracing circles between his shoulders. Sleep finds him almost instantly, and he falls into his dreams of you.

Your POV

You wake to the winter sun beaming through Eddie’s open window. The trailer is chilly, but Eddie’s warm skin is still clinging to yours, radiating a comfortable warmth. You look down at him, his eyes still closed, his lips slightly parted as he snores on your chest. His hand rests around your waist, gripping it under your shirt like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go. You comb your fingers through his hair as you watch him sleep, his face a calm, blank expression.

The peace is broken suddenly, Eddie’s phone ringing from the living room. It startles your boyfriend awake, causing Eddie to jump so suddenly he hits his head on the wall. “Fuck! Shit! What the hell?!” Eddie’s hand rushes to his head as he struggles out of bed. You watch him stomp into the living room, and listen as he answers the phone with a pissed off, “Hello?!”

You can’t hear who’s on the other line, so you wait for Eddie’s response. “Yeah, man, I know. We just woke up, give us like an hour. Maybe two. Yes, I’ll drive, god you’re unbearable in the morning. Be ready when I get there. Bye.” He slams the phone back down, and stalks back into his room. “I don’t remember ordering a wake up call.”

“Who was it?” You sit up a little, realizing you now need to put clothes on, according to that phone call.

“Steve. We’re holiday shopping today, I guess.”

You groan as you roll out of bed, you have no desire to holiday shop today. “We agreed to that?”

Eddie nods, his lips tightly pressed together. “Yeah, unfortunately we did.”

“Doesn’t sound like us.”

Eddie chuckles. “I know, what’s gotten into us?”

Eddie pulls up to Steve’s house and leans on his horn. You puff on the joint he’d rolled for you, and pass it to Robin who’s already in the back seat.

“So, where’d you guys run off to last night?” Robin starts when Steve climbs into the backseat. He takes the joint from her as Eddie reverses out of the driveway.

“What do you mean?” You ask, attempting to sound innocent. Eddie’s grip on your thigh tightens and you glance up to see the smirk on his face.

“Before we all left, you guys disappeared for awhile. Jonathan said you took his camera, or something?” Robin’s big mouth will be the death of you, someday.

“Oh, um, we,” You can’t think of a lie fast enough.

“I took some promo shots for them.” Eddie blurts. You look at each other and he shrugs. “For future shows.”

“Uh huh. Where’d you take those?” Steve’s suspicious, and he hands the joint back to you.

“Behind the club. Why so nosy this morning?” Eddie asks, suddenly defensive.

“Because our lives are boring and loveless, Eddie!” Robin chimes back in, quick to defend her partner in prying. “I thought you guys went to fuck in the bathroom or something.” You whip your head back to stare at Robin, the joint still between your lips. “Oh please,” She starts when she sees the shock on your face, “Try telling me with a straight face that isn’t what you did.”

You look from Robin, to Steve, then to Eddie, who looks at you and shrugs again. He’s shameless, in fact you’re sure he wants to tell everyone about your little rendezvous. “Okay, fine!” You shout, throwing yourself back against the seat. “We left to fuck in the Hideout bathroom, happy?”

Robin lets out a cackle, and is quickly joined by Steve. “Extremely, thank you!”

You groan, and Eddie squeezes your thigh again. You look back at him to find he’s smiling, his cheeks bright red.

After about three hours of loud holiday music, crowded stores with lines wrapped around them, and enough kettle corn to rot the teeth of a small village, you’re almost done with your holiday shopping. You managed to sneak away from Robin and Steve, buying each of their gifts right under their noses. For Robin, you purchased a collared shirt with primary colored stripes, a journal and a whole new box of pens. For Steve, you bought a new hair mousse you’d heard him mention, and a silver bracelet chain. You’d also managed to snag a collective gift for the youngins, a sick tapestry to hang at their next DnD meeting, complete with a green, fire breathing lizard. You also grabbed a book for your mom by her favorite author, and a new tie for your dad. The only gift you still couldn’t figure out, was Eddie’s.

“Time to split up!” Robin declares as the four of you exit yet another shop. “Boys, go that way, gays, this way.” Robin points to the left, then right as she says this. You chuckle at her word choice.

Robin hooks her arm into yours as you both walk away from the guys. “I know you haven’t gotten Eddie a gift yet.” Despite your distance from them, she’s whispering. “I can help you out.”

You decide to humor her, and lower your own voice to a whisper. “Do you have something in mind?”

Robin shrugs. “I might.” She starts pulling you forward, and you have to jog to keep up with her. When you finally reach the end of the mall, Robin pulls you into the music store in the corner. The walls are lined with instruments, from guitars and basses to mandolins and woodwinds. There’s a drum kit in the corner, tons of pedals and sticks and guitar picks to choose from.

“Robin, I can’t afford anything here.” You shake your head reading a price tag.

Robin shakes her head. “No, maybe not in here.” Robin pulls you along, into a different section of the store. It’s filled with recording devices, headsets, microphones, and speakers. She picks up a small tape recorder and a pack of blank tapes. “Record a song for him.” She hands you the items, and you ponder this idea. It’s not a bad one, in fact Robin may have just saved your Christmas spirit. “Maybe his favorite song? Or yours. Or you could just say something. I dunno, I had the idea when I came here for new strings.”

You launch yourself at Robin and wrap your arms around her neck. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You squeeze her and she grips around your waist, jostling both of you back and forth. The clerk wordlessly rings you out for the equipment, and you stuff the bag inside another one, not wanting to give anything away to Eddie.

“I have no idea what to get them, man.” Eddie shakes his head as the two of them walk the mall. He’s had fleeting ideas, but none of them seem to be enough for you, enough for what he wants to show you he feels. It all seems so arbitrary, assigning values of affection to objects, but he wants to communicate his appreciation for you.

“Make them a shirt. I’m sure they’d love it, I know you made the Hellfire Club ones.” Steve pulls a blank white t-shirt off the rack. “Maybe their first piece of Death Dance merchandise.” He hands the shirt to Eddie, whose mouth is agape with shock at Steve’s good idea.

“How’d you come up with that?”

Steve shrugs. “I don’t know much about Y/n, but I know they like you, for some reason. They’d love anything you make for them, I’m sure of it.”

Eddie places a friendly hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Thanks, man. That means a lot.” Eddie places the t-shirt, as well as a pack of fabric markers on the checkout counter. His brain buzzes with drawing ideas, how he can illustrate your band’s vibe with the little knowledge he has. He’s excited to start on it, and even more excited imagining you wearing it.

Your POV

The four of you meet back up at the entrance, and you notice another bag in Eddie’s hand. “Ooh, is that for me?” You tease, reaching for the plastic.

Eddie yanks his hand out of your reach. “Not yet, it’s not!” You stick your tongue out at him, and he responds by biting it.

“Ew, you guys.” Robin rolls her eyes at your disgusting love, and you cackle at her discomfort.

“Sorry, sorry! I’ll be sure to bite your tongue next time, too.” Eddie taunts, nudging Robin in the ribs with his elbow.

Eddie claims he has things to do, and drops you off at home. This is the first time since vacation started that you aren’t attached at the hip, and the only thing you can think of doing involves him anyway.

You pick the tape recorder and blank cassettes out of their bag and place them on the desk in front of you. Your parents are out, so the house is its normal quiet. You grab your acoustic guitar from its stand in the corner, and place a tape into the machine. Before pressing record, you take a deep breath, the same way you had before playing in front of your peers.

“Hi, Eddie,” You start shyly, watching the red light blink. “Happy holidays, my love. I wasn’t sure what to get you, I couldn’t think of anything worthy of expressing my feelings for you, so I’m recording this instead. I hope you like it.” You press pause, and fiddle with the strings until you’ve found a comfortable position. You’d been working on something for awhile, and figured the first person to hear it should be the one it’s about. It’s been hard for you to write your own music, but since meeting Eddie, the words seem to pour out of you like a broken dam.

I hadn’t slept in several days,

I hadn’t been warm in weeks,

But after you had met my gaze,

I let my body breathe.

It felt less like a heart attack,

and more like coming home.

I let your body keep me warm,

so I don’t have to sleep alone.

Pretty boy, my heart is yours,

and I hope you’ll say the same,

Cause after all these lonely nights,

I just want to hear you say my name.

You rewind the tape when you’ve finished, and listen to yourself sing. It’s rough, but it will work for the time being. The song still isn’t finished, but it’s the only one you want to sing for him, the only one with your own words that make this gift special. Once you’re satisfied with your take, and it takes hours, you label the cassette with “Pretty Boy - DDA” and clamp the plastic case shut. You get to work wrapping everyone else’s gifts, and before you know it, your parents are home and calling you down for dinner.

chapter XIII

—

taglist: @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @wiildflower-xxx @beebeerockknot @champagne-glamour || send a message to be added🫶

29 notes · View notes