#i want to strangle them then sniff them then cry

[alkaseltza]

the world needs musicians like george harrison and noel gallagher to keep the world spicy. keep music a little toxic. fuck it up girlies, u know? we need more of that these days

[gremlinmodetweeker]

hiii >< I see you're still taking request so maybe can you write about how könig would confort his insecure s/o? not just about her weight but also her ability to do things? like "oh no I'm not good and pretty enough"

I'm going through a hard time right now so it'd help a lot T.T

(also can I slide into your dm? I want to make friend and talk about könig but I'm scared you might be uncomfortable)

Okay so thank you so so much for this ask? It genuinely warms my heart. I had an idea of writing a prompt for König comforting an insecure reader, but I didn’t really know how to start. This really helped! I do not know if I perfectly got what you wanted, but I hope it’s okay? Sometimes I am not very good at interpreting others, I admit. Also, my dms are always open (and I especially like making new friends in this community). I hope to hear from you soon, and I hope you like this story!

So, just under 2.1k words, all soft and sweet. Total fluff. TW for insecurities and self hatred, but it gets talked over. Story below the cut.

Faker

König sat on your bed behind you, watching you with patient eyes. You’d just come home from an outing, and though you had put on an act for others, he could see how it had worn on you. He knew that you couldn’t do it forever, but he didn’t blame you in the slightest. Nobody could do what you tried to do.

 You looked in the mirror, staring with blank eyes at your persecutor.

These hands, they made so many mistakes… These lips have uttered so many lies… These eyes have seen truth and beauty and joy, but now they see nothing but a hollow shell. Who is this empty vessel that stands before you? Did you ever really know who they were?

König stands up and steps forward, gently resting his hands on your shoulders, on the vessel’s shoulders.

“What do you see?” König asked softly, taking one hand to brush away tears you had not noticed.

“I see…” you paused, “Myself.”

König rested his head over you, watching you with his ice blue eyes. They looked at you, tried to hold your gaze, but the cold was too much for you to bear.

“Do you?” he whispered.

You blinked, taking a moment to sniff and recompose your dignity. Tears welled up further, but you held to them tightly, refusing to let them drop. But unfortunately, you are no God, you can defy no calling such as this. Emotions control your very being, and so you cry.

“I don’t know,” you admitted.

König let you cry. It would be cruel to stop you at this point. You tried to fight back, doing your best to build your sandcastle against the ocean, but with every hiccup you suppressed and every sniff you held back, the waves would wash over you again. And eventually, you gave up. You followed the siren’s song and drowned in your sorrows.

“I hate myself,” you finally were able to say.

König pressed a kiss to your temple and dropped his chin to your shoulder, “Why?”

“I… I don’t have enough time to go into all the reasons,” your voice cracked and warbled like a strangled seabird.

“I have time,” König replied.

“I don’t,” you said, your tone cold as the ice that he held in his eyes.

König nodded and wrapped his hands over your shoulders.

“You do not have to explain if you do not want to,” he said, his words like down on your ears, “sometimes, words are not enough.”

“It feels like they’re never enough,” you closed your eyes, unable to endure his watchful eyes any longer.

“When are they ever?” König hummed, “english is not a good language to express yourself, anyways.”

“Is it easier in German?” you asked hopefully.

You could feel König shaking his head, “Nein.”

You sniffled and opened your eyes again. You hated what you saw. You hated the kindness in his cold blue eyes. You hated the hollowness in your warm body more. Ice and fire, freezing and burning. What would be the best way to die? In your own selfish inferno, or would you let the ice of your lover’s touch shock you to reality? Or would that make you numb, too? Was it better to be numb because you had killed your cells through burning yourself alive, or through ice turning your boiling blood into nothing but a muddy sludge through your veins?

“I don’t want to be like this,” you could see yourself frown more than feel it.

“You do not have to be,” König reminded you.

“I don’t know how to change,” you replied dryly.

“Do you have to change to learn to love who you are?” König asked, taking a moment to brush his cheek over yours, water lapping over a sandy beach, “or is there something here worthy of love?”

“I don’t think so,” you muttered and turned to hide your face into his putrid mask, right where you belonged.

“Do you not think you are worthy of love as you are?” he asked.

“Why would I be?” you scrunched your eyes tight, tight enough to hear the water washing through you.

König carefully pried your face away from his mask, kindly not commenting on the mucus you’d left behind. Instead, he gently turned your chin to look back into the mirror. You groaned as he did so and tried to turn back, but such gentle hands became firm as ice.

“Maybe you should try to look at what is worth loving?” he whispered, “just try.”

“What is there to love?” you cried.

“So much,” he told you, “so much.”

You opened your eyes to see yourself. What you saw was worse than before. Red-rimmed eyes, runny nose, flushing skin. You really were a mess, weren’t you? You looked like you’d been drowned and then revived, cursed to walk the earth once more.

König cut off your spiraling thoughts with a piercing, “When I look in this mirror, I see someone who has been hurt for too long.”

“Nobody hurt me,” you protest meekly.

“You did,” his words gored into you like ice picks, “maybe, someone a long time ago said something to you. Maybe you made a mistake and it never left you. I do not know. I do know that whatever led you to think that you are nothing worth loving is wrong. It is not what you are. You are more than the past.”

“How would you know that?” you scoffed meanly.

König shrugged.

“Maybe because I know what it feels like to look in a mirror and see something I do not like.”

You turned and looked at him briefly before he redirected your gaze to the mirror, the ice in his eyes thawing with fear and insecurities you saw within yourself.

“I ask myself, what is there to love? How could anyone care about me? Surely, nobody loves me,” he said, “but I am wrong. There are people who care, they just do not say it out loud. Maybe it is because they are scared.”

“Scared of what?” you asked.

“Scared of being… Ah, what is the word… Scared of being vulnerable, I think,” König shrugged half heartedly, “but I think that vulnerability is how we grow. You cannot be strong by hurting yourself. Strength does not come from nothingness.”

“But you’re so strong,” you sniffled.

“I am strong because I saw my weakness, and I saw something lovable inside. So I worked to make what was lovable more important than what was not,” König replied, “I was afraid, small, and vulnerable. But by being vulnerable, I learned I could grow.”

“So then what does that mean for me?” you asked.

“I think it means that it is okay to hurt, but you can’t let that hurt define how you see yourself,” König hummed.

“What do you mean?” you asked timidly.

“I think that it is easy to think only of weakness. However, there is more to that weakness. I think sometimes, we need to be weak to be strong. You might be weak now,” König lay his head against yours, “and I think you can become strong.”

“As strong as you?” you tried to say playfully, but it came out grating like a gull’s cry.

“You do not need to be as strong as me,” you could see his face soften behind his mask, “you need to be strong enough for yourself. You cannot let anyone else define strength for you.”

“Do I need to be strong to be loved?” you thought aloud.

“Nein,” König’s voice hardened, then softened when he continued, “love is strength itself. To love and to be loved is to be strong. To love yourself is the strongest thing you can do.”

You pursed your lips into a line. Finally, you asked, “So do you love yourself?”

König’s eyes crinkled at the corners, “Sometimes. Sometimes it is hard. Do you not think so?”

You frown, “I don’t know. I haven’t loved myself too much lately.”

“I think you must find something to love in yourself,” König replied, “but that might take searching. You cannot let someone else tell you what is worth loving. I know it is hard, but once you find something, hold onto it. And keep holding on.”

“How can you be so sure that there’s something I can love?” you asked.

“There is always something. Even the blackest hearts can love the soot that coats them,” König mused.

You looked at yourself. You frowned, and then locked your eyes on his.

“What if I can’t find something to love?” you asked nervously.

“Then you must do the hardest thing of all,” König furrowed his brows, “you must fake it. You must tell yourself you love something, even if you do not believe it.”

You scoffed, “But why? That’s so stupid.”

“It is in the beginning,” König admitted, “but it is not stupid always. It gets better, but you have to do it every day. That is the hardest part, you know? Doing it every day. But if you keep doing it, it gets better.”

You look at yourself. Your eyes are not so red, your breathing has steadied. You look a bit better, but you don’t quite know if the word ‘better’ is the word you’d choose.

“So, if I have to lie to myself, what should I lie about?” you ask.

“Well, if it helps, whenever I see myself in a mirror, I smile at myself,” König says, “but I do not always feel it inside. But I keep doing it. I want to get to a point where I can smile in a mirror, and I can feel myself smiling back.”

“How did you decide that?” you asked.

“Everyone likes a good smile, ja?” König chuckled, “so why not have a nice smile? I think your smile is very pretty, ja, but do you?”

You cast your eyes down, looking into the deep abyss of your feet, then replied, “I don’t know.”

“Then maybe that is a place to start. Tell yourself that you have a pretty smile.”

“It sounds so stupid though,” you snort.

“It does sound stupid! But that is why you must do it. And anyways, is it not nice to smile? A smile is a powerful thing,” König smiled under his mask, “it is a tool. You need to care for your tools. So love your smile. It is, if nothing else, a good place to start.”

“And if I trick myself into loving my smile?” you laugh.

“Then find something else to love,” König determined, “there is always more to love, especially with you.”

“You really think there’s always more to love in me?” you shook your head in disbelief.

“I do not think,” König said sternly, “I know. There is a very important difference between those words. You should remember that.”

“Well, I believe you’re being stupid,” you snort.

“Believe what you want, but I will still have my beliefs. And my belief is that you have so much to love,” König wrapped his arms around you in a reassuring hug, “I see so much to love, so much I want to show you about yourself. You are so wonderful. Yet you cannot see that? I do not understand, but I think you think that there is something worth loving in me. And if you can see something worth loving in others, why should there not be something worth loving in you?”

“I don’t know,”  you admitted.

“I think it is silly to say everyone deserves love and then remove yourself from your own statement,” König ducked his head down, “and if nothing else, let me find something in you to love. If nobody else will say it, then let me say that you have so much in you that is worthy of love. All of you is worthy of love. You may not think so, but I love you regardless of whatever you think you are.”

“Even when I do things you don’t like?” you cup his head in one hand.

“Especially when you do things I do not like,” König affirmed, “because to love all of you I must love your flaws. To love someone conditionally like that is to not love at all. So I love all parts of you, regardless of what you may think of those.”

“You’re being too nice,” you dismiss him gently.

“I think ‘too nice’ is not real,” König retorted, “I think that is a stupid thing people say to avoid feeling. I am not afraid of my feelings, and so I am proud to say I love you for you. I just hope that one day, you can love yourself like I love you.”

“You really think I can do that?” you ask.

“I do not think, I believe.

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Thirty (Part 2)

“Fucking hell,” He twists away and grabs the front of his hair. The rain has eased to a mist now but the clouds still shield the sky and block the light out like an early dusk. His limbs become a bit stilted and stiff as though he’s forgotten how to control them. “Fuck,” he says hoarsely, and he drops onto the wet sand and shoves the heels of his hands into the sockets of his eyes “This is it then, isn’t it? Things are over with us.”

I hesitate for a moment before sitting next to him, and the seat of my dress immediately soaks through and I don’t care about it. “Yeah,” I say gently, “They have to be, don’t they?”

“There’s nothing I can do.”

“I want you to go and be happy.”

He lets out an agonised, strangled noise, and it takes me a second to realise that he has begun to sob into his hands, and it’s the strangest thing, but I think I can feel my heart physically breaking inside my chest, tearing apart, ripping right down the centre. I didn’t know that when people spoke about heartbreak that this is what they meant all along. The ache inside me feels unbearable, and I want so badly to reach for him and tell him that I don’t mean any of it, and yes, I’ll take that Green Card and yes, I’ll come and live in Los Angeles, but instead I cram my wrist to my nose and I cry with him because it seems like the only sensible thing I can do. 

And once I’ve started I cannot stop, and the tears come, and they come, and they fill my eyes until I can’t see a thing but the greys and blues of the sea blurring together like watercolour bleeding down the page, and then I wipe them and I look to my right where Jude’s head is bowed and his shoulders are shaking, and I tell him that I’m sorry. He says something I can’t understand because he is crying too hard, but I don’t know that it really matters what it was, because on some level I know what he’s saying. Just like I do, he simply hurts. 

He sniffs and drags the heel of his hand up across his nose. He shakes his head as tears roll off the end of his spiky lashes, “God,” He says eventually, “I just really thought- I think I took it for granted that I’d get to be with you forever, or something, like we were perpetual-” and he bares his teeth and heaves a shuddering sigh into his lungs, eyes fixed on his feet, embarrassed, like he can’t bear to look at me and see what I think of him crying on the ground. “I wanted everything,” he chokes out, “All of the stupid stuff, you know? Christmases and New Years, I wanted to get you birthday presents and anniversary presents and travel with you and just- just wake up with you and make you breakfast and-” he squeezes his eyes shut, “But like, I can’t have any of it and now I just have to live without you, and it’s so horrible-”

I comb my fingers through the back of his hair and I whisper, again, that I’m sorry.

“I love you,” He says, though he knows that it’s not enough, and I know it too, because loving Jude Turner is like loving a memory, the dream, the idea of a man that my seventeen year old self believed would solve me, would prove that I am worthy of happiness only because he loves me back. And perhaps it’s an idea that he loves too, a girl who would make him feel young and careless and reckless, who would expect nothing, ask nothing from him but to be free.

I swipe at my damp cheek, “Yeah but one day you won’t. Someday when I’m long gone you’ll look back on this time and you’ll think about how glad you were that you never compromised or let yourself be held back by some girl. And then-” I sniffle, “-when you’re living this amazing life, and you’re happy and you’re successful and surrounded by people who love you you’ll think ‘oh yeah, her, God, you know, I don’t even remember what her name was anymore.’”

“No,” he shakes his head firmly, “No, I’m going to love you for my whole life.”

And then I make the loneliest sound I’ve ever made, somewhere between a gasp and a sob as I relent and throw myself into his chest so that I can let him hold me. He kisses my hair so gently and rests his cheek upon my head and says simply, “I’ll miss you.”

“And I’ll miss you,” I reply, “And don’t think I’ll ever forget you either. You know that you’re going to be everywhere, you’ll be the ghost that follows me around. Every time I wake up and you aren’t there, or get home and you aren’t waiting at the door, and every time my feet touch this coastline, and I get into the sea, or see the roof of that beach house poking over the dunes I’ll think, you know, I really wish he was here, because everything I did was better when he did it with me,” I exhale thickly, “But then I’ll think of you somewhere else in the world where I know that you’ll be happy and I’ll just be happy to, because I want that for you, I really do, even if I don’t get to be a part of it.”

There’s a long pause while we cry together, and he reaches down to brush fresh tears from my cheekbones, “I feel lucky to have known you when I did,” He says, “When I- When I go to LA, you know, I doubt I’ll be back again for a very long time, and- God, -and by then who knows where your talent will have taken you and what you’ll be doing. To know you now feels like the greatest privilege, and I know that you’re telling yourself that I won’t remember you years from now, but actually I’ll be saying, yeah, I knew that girl once and she was incredible, I caught her in a moment in time and you should have seen her, when talent just radiated off her like the heat from a sunburn and she didn’t even know it yet.”

I turn to face him and look him dead in the eyes, because I don’t know the next time I’ll get to really look at them, “You’ll be happy,” I insist. If I mean it I can make it so.

“You too,” He says , “And maybe when we both are we’ll find our way back to each other again.”

“Yeah, I hope so,” I say, and in that moment the sun finally breaks through the clouds, just a sliver of it, and it hits the side of his beautiful face, glows on his cheek and his hair and through his brown eyes to turn them golden, the colour and warmth of flames.

That’s how I’ll always remember him. 

And when our story is over and the edges of the clouds turn pink and amber, I get up to walk away. I turn to look at him one more time though I can hardly bear to. Standing there in the sunlight he simply raises his hand. “I’ll see you, Evie,” He says. 

“Yes,” I say, “someday.”

THE END To my Tumblr readers, thank you so much for reading along. It's been a pleasure to share this story with you.

For a very long time I knew that I wanted to tell a story like this. I felt like I had so many things to say, about growing up, about this country, about the way it feels to inhabit it, how it felt to be young and bored with no money to spend during the recession era – the uniqueness of that particular moment in time and the feelings, places and people that have changed in the years since, but I just never got around to it.

One evening in July of 2022 my mother, who has become an avid wild swimmer since her retirement, took me down to the beach to take a dip in the sea. It’s a beach I’ve been on a thousand times having grown up just a few kilometers away from it. I’d swum in it, walked it, even worked on it for three summers during my early twenties but for some reason on that day I felt overwhelmingly nostalgic about it. This is not a very exciting beach, I thought, but isn’t it a bit beautiful in it’s own way. From my place, neck deep in the water I looked at the way the marram grass shimmered in the wind and bits of old fishing nets and driftwood littered the coarse sand. A line of identical holiday homes peeped up over a low stone wall, and a little corrugated iron summer house sat right in the middle of the dunes, flat roof, wooden deck. I’ve always wondered who owned it.

Later on I got home and typed a few paragraphs of a story on my computer. I hadn’t written a thing in years. Then I just didn’t stop.

I’d spent the entire pandemic overanalysing my teenage traumas, reliving the things I’d done in college and into the first years of my twenties. A lot of weird things happened to me. Very dramatic things, honestly. I think I am the sort of person that draws highly erratic types to me or perhaps is just inclined to stir up emotionally intense situations, and as a result my life had felt like a whirlwind, some sort of strange carousel until I was forced to step off it in 2020. There’s no point getting into it, really. You’ve read Lucky Girl, so you get the gist.

I have to say thank you to my wonderful friends for being my biggest cheerleaders during this process. They hyped me up and listened to my every thought, proof read, problem solved and helped me to understand that it’s not embarrassing to do this, in fact it’s actually pretty cool to publish a story in this way. Grace & Sarah, thanks for letting me borrow from your lives as much as I borrowed from my own, and for talking in circles with me about everything and anything that came into our heads. I love you to bits ❤

Also to my partner, who never read this story, but tells his friends that his girlfriend wrote a book!! Who brought me tea and cooked me food while I was in a whirlwind of inspiration. He really just wanted me to come into the living room so that we could watch Succession, or White Lotus, or X Files, or whatever else we were binging during the last 15 months, but he never complained. “Ah, sims.” He’d say, and shut the office door.

To my first love and my teenage friends, who I think of all the time. Who embodied a time and a space that I’ll never inhabit again, but I’ll never forget any of it. I remember all of the places or the people who were around me while I lived out the end of my childhood, and when I revisit the places we used to go there are a thousand tiny snapshots of memory everywhere. Of these teenagers that don’t exist anymore, who are all entering their thirties now, of the time we had, the person I used to be and the inexplicable importance of those few short years. Nowadays when I’m there, on those beaches and in those woods I swear it’s like there’s a ghost there with me, and it’s me, the person I used to be. I’m reminded of the incredible distance I’ve come since fifteen.

To my readers most of all, thank you from the bottom of my heart. You really kept me going when it got tough and when it all felt too close to the bone, and I was a bit too freaked out to write. Your comments made this story such a wonderful experience and I’m so glad that I got to share it with you all. I still kind of can’t believe that so many people have read this thing – it’s bizarre. I really didn’t think a single person would care, but here we are. You’re all angels.

All my love,

Hannah.

Beginning // Prev // Epilogue

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

Star-crossed in the Crosshairs (John Price x Reader)

Chapter 9: I Don't Know If I Can Do It

Fic Summary: This mission is the pinnacle of your efforts for the past three years. Your whole team and yourself have worked countless hours, slaughtered hundreds, risked life and limb for scraps of intel, and now it all boiled down to pairing up with another taskforce to get this job done and dusted. An unexpected spanner in the works comes in the shape of your former best friend, now also a Captain and somehow resurrected from his KIA status, John Price.

You can’t afford to let feelings - old and new - get in the way of your purpose. No matter how much you’ve missed, wished for, loved him, and no matter how much he might feel the same.

Chapter 8 // Masterlist // AO3 Version // Gif Credit // Chapter 10

“Well done,” You said as you handed Chance two twenty pound notes and sent them on their way.

Čiernik neutralised and Shepherd’s fate in the wind, the debrief was long over. Both teams had waited for you and Price, but only Price would be joining them. Part of you wanted to hear the war stories from the 141, really catch up. Then your stomach flared up and your eyes threatened to steam up and you remembered how fragile you’d let yourself get over this calendar month.

Bronze - still conked out on meds - demanded that someone have his drink for him, so you weren’t the only one missing out. Tonight, you’d spend your time numbing your ribs and hidden away.

A naughty mood plagued your mind, a naughty and self-destructive mood that cranked open a trunk of memories concerning the good old days that Price might’ve brought up via his reappearance in his life. You groaned over being at a point in your life where your twenties were “the old days”.

That naughty mood consumed your thoughts with flashbacks you hadn’t considered for years, even since realising Price was alive. Routine for your training years was what was currently playing. Two pints into a night out, you and John used to arm wrestle – an excuse to hold his hand on your part as well as an excuse to display how much you’d been working out – over a sticky table and damp bevy napkins. If the place had a karaoke machine (like your first local did), you’d always sing “Losing My Religion” like you were trying to convince each other of your perspective. Not once did you look at the screen for the words. You would put it on the jukebox if there was no karaoke, create your own jam session that would result in a warning about getting barred.

First time John convinced you to sing with him, he had his hand on your shoulder and stared intensely at you with his forehead to yours as he sang matter-of-factly, if a little unclear due to the cider. You, on the other hand, giggled through each lyric at how overwhelmed by how his steadfast cornflower eyes held you on that stage, losing yourself in the final chorus and getting cut off by your colleague, dragged home by the collar of your shirt and insisting you weren’t that bad, John egging you on all the while.

Difficult emotions bubbled like the beer you used to drink, forming a cathartic yet strangled cry in your throat as you opened the door to your temporary room. You were too injured to wear yourself out with some exercise. That was your usual cure for avoiding uncomfortable thoughts, the energy expelled causing you to pass out without any struggle of tossing and turning – or of nightmares. Even though you were absent of any gear, or your weighted blanket back at your base, to ground you into a mattress, your ribs would’ve complained the entire night. So today you were forced to recognise that the cork on your anxiety was coming loose, and the presence of Price – paired with your lovestruck Sergeants – was the equivalent of shaking the bottle. 

“Fuck,” you muttered to yourself with a hard sniff.

The expletive offered a mild release of emotion, staving off the crying for a little longer. Long enough to raid the medical wing for some more disposable ice packs, long enough to get caught red-handed and by none other than the main cause of your pain.

“You’re back early,” You remarked as if you weren’t using your shirt as a makeshift basket for icepacks.

Price pushed a hand through his hair, smoothing it out whilst stuffing his beanie into his coat pocket, “Had my fill. The boys were insisting it was because I was getting old.”

“You’re not old. ‘Cus if you are, then I am too, and I’m not old.”

“Course not,” Price said wryly. Then he gestured to your haul, “Need a hand?”

Already, he was approaching you and – against your better judgement – you let him scoop a couple out before you both headed back to your room.

Holding your nerve, you made an attempt to be blasé: “Don’t suppose you had a sing-song at the pub?”

“No. Haven’t since I lost my duet partner.”

You winced around the corner, hoping Price would take it in response to your injuries. He must’ve done, for he didn’t allow any silence to linger on his remark:

“Played a few sessions of Shithead to determine whose round it was. You got any other plans for tonight?”

You crushed and placed a pack onto your ribs whilst John opened your door, letting you in first as you replied, “Just lie in a pile of these.”

Price’s hum with approval was masked beneath the bed creak as you carefully placed yourself on the edge of it, your chin in your hand, whilst you awkwardly iced your back. Your eyes closed without considering the extra person in the room, yet you took note of the mattress waning beneath their weight and refused to be shocked by the calloused fingertips that touched over the condensation on your hand.

“Here,” Price said, his voice low in volume and tone.

Fingers slipping out of his gentle hold, you let Price take over holding the icepack against your side. His other hand squeezed your corresponding shoulder, thumbing out the knots on that side of your spine – and there were a lot of knots. Needless to say, you were not expecting this, nor were you expecting to crave this kind of treatment until you found yourself sitting up straighter, following Price’s hand whenever it adjusted its grip on your taut muscles.

Clearing your throat, you opened your eyes, “You always made fun of me for my spa days.”

“Well, I’ve matured now,” John said quietly, his thumb digging around the edge of your left shoulder blade, “Enough to understand the value of a back rub – maybe a good bath bomb too.”

Laughter that coughed and clogged up your throat erupted from you. A tear splashed between your spread legs, leaving a little mark on the thin rug. Another ran through the same track and slipped down your face faster. That laughter slipped into sniffles fairly quickly after that.

Price’s hands stilled, “Did I hurt you?”

You sniffed and shook your head. You massive liar.

Very easily, John could’ve just offered you a tissue from the box on the bedside table. Instead, he moved to kneel in front of you, and he went to cup your face. Tilting your head away, you pushed his hands down.Temptation was enticing you to rest your forehead against his for just a second, how it would heal all torment he’d caused you – inadvertently and otherwise. You knew this was beyond a slippery slope. It was a straight drop down a crevasse with the bottom masked by fog. Shaking your head, you looked to your bedside lamp instead of him.

Without forcing you to look at him, John spoke, “I know I’ve got no right to ask you. But I’m a selfish man.”

Stubborn, yes. Ruthless, agreed. Cold. At times. But you’d never describe Jonathan Price as selfish. Not until now, at least. You realised you were still holding his hands away, a light grip he could’ve escaped from easily but hadn’t. Your face crumpled on itself and more tears fell, your head knocking against John’s as he lowered himself to his knees between your own

“Even just a scrap of that time to apologise, properly – now I know you’ve said you’re okay with what happened, but I’m not-”

His hands curved around your wrists. There, his thumb traced over your wrist where your pulse jumped under your Viking helmet tattoo – the one he argued wasn’t accurate because it didn��t have horns.

That night you got it, he’d jeered with a beer in his hand, “I should know; it’s my damn call-sign!”

You had been so drunk on his company but so jilted by his accusation that you were prepared to cross the country with him there and then to retrieve your GCSE History certificate and wave it in his face as you declared that Vikings never actually had horns on their helmets. But then you would’ve lost your spot at the parlour, and you really liked that tattoo artist’s style so you had a juvenile John sat beside you, mumbling under his breath how wrong you were to wind him up.

Your brimming tears shocked you back to the present day, having ignored most of John’s apology in favour of reminiscing of when things felt easier.

You tuned in to the end of his speech: “I kept you in the dark and lost you. I’m sorry for that and the pain I’ve caused you. I don’t expect anything. But we’re on borrowed time already. I don’t wanna waste any more of it.”

At that, you snatched your wrists back, for his words had breathed new life into the anger you convinced yourself was dormant. “We could’ve had all the time in the world, but you left me! Why did you leave me? Don’t patronise me with the “I wanted to protect you” shit. Why didn’t you come back for me?”

And you broke down sobbing, gasping for breath as your head lolled in shame, your neck and gut rife with rile. You’d never felt so pathetic, weeping over him like this after saying it was all okay. Nothing was okay. You wanted all the years of your mourning back. You wanted them back and your John back too.

He was looking upon you with pain pinching in his brow, and his voice was as gentle as he could be: “Because I’d pick you over everything.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to leave for me!”

“You wouldn’t have to. You never did.”

God, you wanted Chance or Ghost to use you as a punching bag to block out this agony that wracked your entire body with the vines of grief. Worse still, John’s honesty struck worse than any condescending comment he could’ve conjured. It told you all you needed to know about him, and it asked you something new about yourself: if he asked you to leave team Banshee, would you? Your hesitance frightened you to your core, and you know it did the same to John and his commitment to the 141.

“I’m so sorry I took you for granted, that I never came back for you. I’ll spend my life and the next making it up to you. And at the moment all I can offer you is when our leave aligns, a flat by the Mersey, and a bottle of bourbon. But I’ll give you all I am, all of it.” John sealed his promise with a kiss to your forehead,“I’ll be behind whatever you want to do about this.”

The vines were wrapping around John now, constricting you two together, interlocking your bodies together until your anguished lips found his. He tasted like the mint he’d sucked on during his walk back to base.John’s stubbled chin grated as if your face wasn’t melting with tears, desperate to print onto him. Your irreverent fingers ploughed through his cropped hair, too short to hold onto. Teeth pressed uncomfortably together. You couldn’t picture any of the romantic whirlwinds you’d conjured on lonely nights in times gone by; your mind only allowed you to take in how you and John clawed at each other, as if a loose enough grip would lose him to you forever.

As your tears blurred your sights, the truth came clear in your mind. Through an exhale that tremoured like a needle on a gauge, you pushed away from him and heaved out, “I can’t take the trying to get on without you again, I can’t. I can’t go to your funeral again. Don’t make me.”

And how you begged him, when you knew he couldn’t guarantee you a damn thing.

John’s misty eyes clung to your form without breaking contact once as he swore, “I won’t.” He renewed the vow to every plea you made, each one a plate of glass placed around you two until you were surrounded by the fragile promises that would shatter as soon as one of you left the room.

He kissed you again, simple and sweet like nothing else in your lives. You finally touched him with those hands you’d killed with, cradling his jaws as your noses slanted together, chests levitating both your bodies up and down in asynchronous panting.

But even as you felt his touch prickle across your goose-pimpled skin, the rest of your truth pushed out of your mouth and into his:

“I wanted to forgive you, I really did. But I can’t.”

Your sobbing ceased the second you finished speaking, nothing but your wrecked breathing and tears left behind in the shock that you’d finally said it. In its wake, you were faced with John’s broken expression as he stared unmoving at you. His lips parted with a shuddering and short exhale. In that moment, you knew then that he thought you would forgive him. All you could respond with was a touch of your hand to his cheek in an offer of little comfort when you repeated yourself:

“I can’t.”

John’s eyes flickered but still did not blink, as if you would vanish the second he dared not to keep you in his sights. Nowhere in those eyes did you see him imploring you to change your mind. He simply reeled in the agony of reality crashing into dreams, splintering them beyond repair. You looked, really looked, past the youths you used to be. Borrowed time indeed, in your line of work, the flecks of grey in John’s beard and minute scars in his skin hinted at what remained of his life.

You decided to let yourself yearn for your history one more time.

“But can we…” You wiped your nose and sniffed, “Can we pretend, for the next few hours, that I have forgiven you?”

John swallowed and nodded. His eyes were wet, but he released nothing until you kissed him again, and you felt the first splash from where his cheek bumped yours, salt soaking together.

Trembling and keeping your lips to his, you removed John’s watch and touched over the nerve diagram, your not-so-matching tattoos. Your fingertips treaded along where his pulse ran on tracks through thick hairs and collected the sleeves as they went. Forming fists, you tugged at the bunched-up fabric, gently at first, then growing rapidly impatient, soon grappling with his shirt just as his tongue made an intrepid entrance in your mouth. An intrusive hand beside your injured ribs spun you around and into his lap, John now perched beside where you’d been, his shirt somewhere else. He was holding on tightly, and you were scratching his furred chest too harshly, the kiss clunky and incoherent.

Grief was forcing its way back up your throat, rejecting this attempt to compel reconciliation. Your last ditch effort to keep it at bay made you press your lips hard against hard down his neck until your broken cries were bleated against his collarbones.

John’s agitated chest kept you trapped with his arms warped around you. His trembling tongue whispered over and over “I’m sorry” beside your ear, his intentions clear but muddied by the impact of his words, stabbing you in your heart with every repetition.

Mustering enough energy to hold yourself together, you shut him up with your mouth on his, determined to make this easier for you both. Smoothing out his sticking-up hair did precious little to conjure the comfort you were seeking. Your face slid away from his in the rush of tears pouring down John’s face like rain on a car window. Resigned, you slumped against his chest, letting your breathing hiccup in your aching chest. John drew you back into his arms, applying an icepack to your side as he somehow manoeuvred you both under the blankets. At least he wasn’t apologising anymore.

You began phasing between light sleep and wake. Though you were roused from sleep by your ribs, each time the vines’ grip he held you in squeezed intermittently and kept you safe in a bubble whilst acting as if you weren’t in these impersonal quarters, maybe even in that apartment he mentioned. A few times, both of you were awake, having moved away to the far edges of the bed in your soporific turmoil. He returned to you every time and did just as you asked: pretended that this you could have each other like this, every night past the sunrise.

“John?”

“Hmm?”

“When I next wake up, I want you gone.”

Silence for a minute. And then:

“Ok.”

-------------------

AN: Black Viking was an access code for Captain Price, so I reworked it as a callsign for this fic - though it's more like "Viking" as the callsign.

Thank you for your patience with the uploads! Only two chapters more to go! Thank you also @bunnyreaper for being a Beta on this chapter <3

Tag-list: @mockerycrow and @algor-babe

[drgnrder82]

Fictober - Day 3 - Should have known better

Summary: Asher is not expecting Marina to accompany Seren... and he makes it known.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 568

Original Fiction

Based on characters from my fantasy WIP Triton's Sanctuary.

Prompt - "I know you better."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Ach! Her again?” Asher bemoaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You literally know the whole of the Lower Quarter, and you bring her?” 

Seren glanced at Marina, leaned in to sniff her, and then repeated the process with Asher. “Marina doesn’t smell like fish.” 

“I don’t mind things that smell like fish…” A wicked smile sliced across Marina’s face. 

“You said you had something to do. I thought you were bringing Fenton.” Asher jammed his cap further onto his head, cheeks reddening as people around the square began to stare. 

“Fenton?” Seren tugged at the snug vest, catching her reflection in the butcher’s window. “I’m sixteen. I don’t need—” 

Asher cleared his throat loudly while Marina threw her head back, cackling.

Turning on both of them, Seren raised an eyebrow, eyes glistening in irritation. 

“I’m sorry,” Marina choked on the words, trying to stifle the laughter. “You don’t need what? A—” 

“A babysitter,” Asher grunted, knowing just the response Seren would have given.

“I,” Marina scoffed, “never thought she needed a babysitter. She needs a friend. Someone to bail her out.” Each word clipped as her frustration mounted. 

“Bail her out? Bail is the right word.” Asher turned his pockets out. “Neither one of us has the cash to do that!” 

Seren returned to her reflection, fingers tapping on her painted lips. A sly smile crept up.

“Exactly! So she needs someone to keep her from getting thrown in the brig in the first place!” 

“Stop enabling her! You’re the reason she started gambling at the balls!” 

“Seren won back my money fair and square. Those officers didn’t want to lose their shady winnings… maybe they shouldn’t have gone around conning the patrons at the Gilded Reef. Which you should have taken care of! It’s your mother’s establishment!” 

Face reddening, Asher clenched his hands tightly. “I take care of what I can! But I’m also a Cadet in the Ishma Naval Academy, or did you forget? I can’t take care of every little squabble.”

Discreetly, Seren pulled a pocket watch out to check the time.

“What is the point of babysitting Seren, huh?” 

“Because I know what she’s capable of!” Asher’s voice spiked loudly, drawing even more attention. “Tell her, Seren! I know you better. Right?” 

Legs planted wide, Marina jabbed at Asher’s shoulder. “Excuse me! You know her better?”

Squaring her shoulders, Seren saw him. The man who’d hurt Bella, a young girl she’d long ago recruited off the street to serve drinks at the Gilded Reef for Asher’s mom. 

“I literally grew up with her! How can you possibly say you know Seren better?” 

Seren ducked through the crowd, blending with shoppers, workers, and children despite her viscerally vibrant hair. 

“Yes! I do! Tell Marina, Seren.” Asher wheeled around to see the butcher pulling down a carcass from the window. “Seren?” He shot Marina a freshly sharpened look. “Where is she?” 

All Marina did was smile sweetly in return. “Now, who knows Seren better?” 

Searching the crowded street, Asher only saw a sea of people, none of which had Seren’s signature red hair or her garish hats with fluffy feathers. “Come on…” 

“You’re cute when you’re angry,” Marina giggled directly in Asher’s ear. 

A strangled cry came somewhere ahead, deeper in the Lower Quarter. “Ah, blast it all,” Marina sighed dramatically while Asher ran off toward the scream without a second glance back at her. 

[oh-surprise-its-me]

Roy/Jamie prompt: Roy and Jamie hit the mother of all rough patches. They are constantly at each other’s and it all started over something mundane and stupid. Plenty of angst but also hilarious pettiness ensue between the two dumb dumbs. Until it all comes to a head in the form of this massive nuclear argument where they say all manner of insulting things but that somehow culminates in the two of them tearfully declaring their undying love for each other and making up. They are it for each other and fighting over stupid shit is gonna inevitably be part of it.

heheheheheheh

(I think they could normally talk it through but this was a great time)

Jamie was over it. If he finds one more goddamn fucking towel not on the heater he’s going to strangle Roy.

“Roy did your hands magically break or fucking fall off in the last twenty minutes?? Because if not you’d better have a fucking fabulous plan explanation for the towels being cold again.”

Jamie hears Roy let out a laugh. He throws the towel on the floor going back into their bedroom.

“Jamie pick it up it’s going to mold”

“Fuck off Roy not now.”

Roy snaps his book closed, he sets it on the bed and sits on the edge. “Christ are you as much of a child as I feared? Just pick it up Jamie.”

Jamie spins from where he was pulling on sweats, he points a finger at Roy. “And you must be as old and fucking deaf as I feared because you can’t ever hear me when I say to heat the towels.”

“Jamie don’t start I’m not in the mood.”

“You’re not in the mood? Roy I don’t care it’s fucking annoying.”

Roy stands up, he grabs his phone and headphones from the side table. “Going out I don’t want to fight this with you.”

Jamie side steps into the door frame, “no we gotta talk about it, you refuse to talk about this kinda thing Roy.”

“Fucking Christ Jamie maybe because it feels like I’m talking with a therapist and not my goddamn boyfriend.”

Jamie blinks, okay ouch that one hurt. Fine. Roy goes low he’ll go lower.

He taps Roy’s chest. “If you actually went to those therapy sessions maybe I’d feel like your boyfriend and wouldn’t have to quote my therapist to you.”

Roy rolls his eyes. “Christ fine I’ll make the appointment. Get off about it.”

“God Roy I complained about the therapy because I love you and I love us. I want us to work. I can’t do it all.”

Jamie slouches against the door. He’s so tired. He feels tears start. Christ no he can’t cry now.

Roy steps forward. He touches Jamie’s shoulder, “hey no I’m sorry you’re right. I should work on stuff. Not take it out on you.”

Jamie sniffs. Roy reaches out and brushes the tear that managed to escape, Jamie does what his therapist calls a distraction tactic.

He punches Roy’s shoulder.

A bit childish but sue him.

“Ow Jamie what was that for??”

“Making me cry.”

Roy flushes. He pulls Jamie into a hug. “I love you stupid. I’m sorry.”

“Jamie you did not just fucking quote hit the floor at me.”

Jamie pulls away with a laugh. He holds Roy’s face, “you bet I did.”

“I love you too Jamie. Don’t doubt that ever. I’m a prick but I love you. I’m always going to choose you.”

Jamie shoves Roy back to the bed. “I’m gonna pick you too stupid. You’ve just gotta remember that.”

Roy lands on his back with Jamie in his lap.

They both know it’ll be fine. Literally the night before they were talking about suit colors for a imaginary wedding.

They love each other, it’ll be fine.

[cricketnationrise]

Congrats on the followers milestone!! Here's an idea:

16h30

Reading Room

Lardo

for you, a little expansion of Shitty's Dibs. Thank you and enjoy!

catch up on the rest of Ficlet Fest 3 here

🏒🏒🏒🏒

reading room, 4:30pm

Lardo flings open the door and makes a beeline for Shitty’s bed so she can crawl out onto the Reading Room. She doesn’t even make it all the way onto the roof before she’s continuing her rant from their text chain.

“And like, I’m sort of shocked they waited till now to ask me, like, it’s almost finals? Did they think I just didn’t have my shit figured out already?” she asks, dumping her bag to one side and settling into her customary spot.

“Well—”

“Leaving aside the fact that I don’t have a living situation figured out yet, it just feels like a desperate move. Doesn’t bode well, you feel me?”

“For sure. Bear?” he asks, holding out the biggest bag of gummy bears she’s seen in a while toward her.

She raises a single eyebrow. “Did you accidentally buy a bag with the pink ones again?”

“...Maybe.”

“Bear me.” He passes over the bag and they take a moment to just watch the street, soaking up the breeze rustling through the leaves and the sounds of Beyoncé from the kitchen below them. The first taste of grapefruit makes her wrinkle her nose – she’s not the biggest fan of the flavor – but she’s not about to let Shitty absently snack on something that he’s mildly allergic to, so she keeps eating.

“So did you give them an answer already?” Shitty asks eventually, a weird expression on his face. Lardo squints at him, but lets it go in favor of answering.

“I told them I had to think about it,” she says, picking out the last few pink bears. “It’d be like, fine, but – ‘kay, I ate all the gross pink ones for you—”

“Brah,” he says, fake tearing up in gratitude. She punches him in the side of the arm and Shitty falls to the side with a dramatic groan. Lardo just rolls her eyes and continues her thought.

“—But, it's on the other side of campus. Plus, Claire's gonna sexile Lara weekly, and I don't wanna Judge Judy all senior year.” She leans back on her hands, more glad than ever she doesn’t have to use her brain any more today. “Man. Why the printmaking kids gotta be so damn horn a bajillion percent of the time?”

There’s a beat of silence where Shitty would normally make fun of her (admittedly strange) art friends, and then—

“So, Lards, ‘bout housing…I’m thinking you should have my dibs.” Lardo freezes at the words. Surely she didn’t hear correctly. He can’t have offered her his room in The Haus. He can’t have.

“I mean it makes a whole lotta sense, right? I mean, first, you practically fuckin’ love here anyway,” he says, ticking the items off on his fingers. “Second, it should be your right as manager. And third—” he meets her gaze squarely, more sincere and earnest about this than he ever was for hockey or any of his classes. This is important to him, maybe the most important. Suddenly, she’s fighting down a lump in her throat.

“You’re one of the best teammates I’ve ever had. So like. You know what to do to seal the deal…if you want ‘em, that is.” 

Apparently he can have been offering his room – offering her a chance to live with some of her favorite people in the whole damn world – as though it was a given, a right, a done deal. He holds out his hand for the customary Dibs Shake, but to her horror, Lardo sniffs, and there’s a tear dripping down her cheek that she has to hide in her elbow.

“Shitty…”

The wobble in her voice sets him off, and now they’re both halfway to ugly crying on the roof of the Haus like dumbasses. “Oh no-no-no, dude,” he says, furiously blinking to ward off tears. “If you waterworks, I’ll w-waterworks…”

She launches herself at him with a strangled AGGGHH!! – throwing her arms around him and squeezing as tightly as she can, hoping that her message gets across without actual words.

Shitty squeezes her back, and his words sound a little relieved (did he think she’d say no???) and a lot wet when he manages to speak. “Hugs count too.”

Fuck right they do.

When they finally break apart, Shitty’s beaming at her and she can feel her own smile widening in response.

“I guess I better tell Claire and Lara I’m already set for next year then,” she teases, striving for her normal dry tone.

“Brah, you’re gonna eat a million pies next year.”

“‘Swawesome.”

[ace-din-djarin]

Come On, Kid

Here's another Ted Lasso ficlet for you all! This one features kid!Roy and made me sad while writing it. Poor baby is going through it. Enjoy!

He learns of his grandfather’s death in a phone call one Tuesday evening after training. He’s still in his kit, standing in stocking feet in the manager’s office, clutching the receiver in numb fingers. 

“I’m sorry, Royboy,” his dad says, tinny and distant. “It was quick, he didn’t suffer. He loved you, you know?”

“Yeah,” Roy thinks he says. He’s not sure – he can’t feel his face. “What – is Mum okay? And Sarah?”

“Mum and Sarah are okay.”

He passes the phone back to Coach Wilson when his dad asks him to, and then he stands, ears buzzing, letting Coach’s quiet voice wash over him. 

He was gonna teach me how to ride a bike, Roy thinks. 

His eyes burn; his breath hitches in his throat, painful and hot. 

Coach sets the phone down with a click that Roy barely hears. He’s speaking to Roy now – Roy blinks, once twice three times, and swallows against the lump in his throat. He looks up. 

“... it’ll be okay, Roy,” Coach is saying. He’s crouched in front of him now, and Roy doesn’t know how he got there, just that he’s looking at Roy with pity in his eyes and Roy hates it, bright and sudden and burning. “”M fine,” he snarls, swiping a hand across his eyes. “‘M not a baby.”

“‘Course you’re not, kid. But it’s okay to be sad.” I’m not sad, Roy thinks, because sadness is such a small word for what he’s feeling. It fits just as poorly as his old rain jacket had last time he’d tried it on, tight across the shoulders and hitting mid-waist. 

Coach is still crouched in front of him, still talking. “... Dad’ll be here to pick you up tomorrow. The funeral’s on Sunday. You’ll go home ‘till then, and be back on Monday.” “But– but I can’t –” Roy’s breath hitches. “I can’t miss that much training, Coach,” he says, and it’s only half-strangled.  “It’ll be alright, Roy. You won’t be in trouble. You want some time with your family, yeah?”

Does he? He wants to see Sarah. And a hug from Mum would be good. But it won’t be his whole family anymore. Granddad won’t be there with a sneaked sweet and a big hand ruffling through his curls.

Roy sniffs and shrugs. His throat has closed, now; he can’t get any more words out. Coach seems to understand. He pats Roy on the shoulder, fleeting pressure, and then he stands with a groan.

“Come on, kid,” he says, and rests his hand on Roy’s back to steer him out of his office, gentle but firm. “There’s still time to get to the canteen, if you hurry.”

Roy can’t choke down more than a few bites of his dinner. He thinks one of the assistant coaches must have said something to the other boys, because they don’t say anything, just look away when he sits down. He doesn’t care. His eyes feel itchy and hot, and there’s a hole where his stomach should be.

He’s given a wide berth as they get ready for bed. Out of the corner of his eye Roy sees Jeremy Young tilt his head toward Matty O’Connor, sees them both glance at him and then away again just as quick when they see him watching. They’ve got matching expressions of pity on their faces. Rage rises in his chest, swift and burning, and suddenly Roy wants to smack that look right off Jeremy’s face, wants them both to hurt, wants wants wants —

“Lights out in ten!”

The dorm monitor’s usual call snaps Roy back into his head. His hands are shaking, he realizes, fists clenched tight around the pajamas he’s still clutching to his chest. He swallows down the sudden burn of tears, shoves it down deep, and slips past Jeremy and Matty and their stares, into the bathroom to change.

Later in the dark, quiet dorm, surrounded by the gentle breathing of a dozen sleeping boys, he curls up underneath his blankie and finally lets himself cry.

[shadowofwar-goober]

How Pushkrimp and Horza First Met

They are my OCs and a new favourite couple between me and @space-arsonist. I love them so much 🥺

Warnings: Slavery, Living Sacrifice, Typical Uruk Violence

It was no secret as to why he was purchased from his previous master. Horza struggled to understand what the black-clad uruks were speaking about, but he really didn’t need to in order to know what was about to happen to him. 

He was small in his cage, but an orc couldn’t possibly be big when uruks were involved. His body was still chilled from the icy bath that his new masters had given him the moment he was dragged into their little coven. It was hostile but quick and they didn’t linger on his body any longer than they had to. If he wasn’t due to be sacrificed, Horza could have been overjoyed about being clean for the first time in years, perhaps even happier that a robe had been thrown over his head, as ill fitting as it was. But he couldn’t feel anything, not even terror or revulsion that he was about to be sacrificed in the name of their Dark Lord. He felt nothing. 

Nothing… 

Already, the thin white linens that he wore were covered in dirt. Horza stared at his knees and rested his cheeks against them. His wrists were sore from the chains he wore daily, even though the Mystics had removed them before he was shoved into his new cage. He didn’t want to listen but his ears picked up on what they were saying. Their dialect was nearly incomprehensible but he could manage a few words even though he was hardly paying attention to begin with. 

“...something, something Dark Lord.”

“...something, something hunting- no, killing-”

“....something about food or being hungry-”

It all blurred into white noise. Horza buried his bruised face into his knees, thankful that he had at least a small amount of his once bountiful hair left. It provided him the comfort of hiding his crying face… He knew he was pathetic but a part of him didn’t want the uruks to see his sorrow or fear, even if it was futile. Maybe he should put up one last fight just so he could die a true orc’s death. Maybe he’ll just let it happen though… Horza was tired and knew long ago that his life was forfeit. It was from the day his village was razed and he was captured and sold into slavery. If he could just manage one more slight against them- 

There was a commotion on the other side of the coven that pulled Horza out of his fantasy. Someone was shouting, which led to others shouting, though what really got his attention was the caragors that ran past his cage. His heart skipped a beat. Wild beasts? No, that’s not it. These beasts were starved and mangy… caragors take much better care of themselves out in the wild. One caragor skidded to a halt as it passed the orc and turned to sniff in his direction. Horza immediately threw himself to the ground and froze. If the beast decides that he’s worth it, there’s nothing that will stop it… A flimsy cage will do nothing to stop a starving caragor, but the beast's own survival instincts did. It ran off in the same direction of the other two that had passed Horza moments ago. 

Shouting continued, though it was joined by something akin to a roar. Horza was shocked and didn’t move from his prone position on the ground. What is this?! A raid?! He feared the unknown and he feared changing hands to new masters again, regardless of the fact that he would die either way should the Mystics have their way with him. 

It can always be worse… It can always be worse- 

Horza again became numb to his surroundings. He could hear shouting, no, screaming, and the crackle and brightness of a fire that was spreading through the coven. He closed his eyes reflexively in response to the bright light, but quickly reopened them when he heard a strangled cry and the thud of a body hitting the ground. A spear was lodged in his back and in spite of his dark clothing, Horza could clearly see a dark patch of blood spreading underneath the cloth. That weapon was longer than Horza was tall… The Mystic was dead before he hit the ground, something vital was hit, his heart or a lung. Horza’s stomach twisted into knots. 

He still isn’t used to it… How can a slave not be used to the sight and stench of death? His heart stuttered in his chest when the spear’s owner approached to reclaim his spear. 

Though he was flat on the ground, Horza was sure that this was the tallest uruk he’s ever seen. He was taller than the cage he was imprisoned in, as was the shield he wore on his left arm. With one foot on the Mystic’s back, he removed the weapon with little effort. He flicked his wrist and wet blood shocked Horza’s face. He jumped and gasped, which got the attention of the uruk that was only a few feet away from him. No. No, no-! 

His eyes were as intense as the fires that engulfed the Mystic coven. Horza shrank even further, whimpering softly as his eyes narrowed. For a brief moment, Horza could swear he saw the uruk’s brows falter, but as quickly as he noticed, his face was stone again and he couldn’t gauge what he was feeling. Disgust? He hoped it wasn’t anger… Another uruk, one similar in dress to him, asked in the common tongue-

“Are we takin’ prisoners?” The other uruk’s gaze drifted over to Horza then snapped back to the bigger uruk. He scoffed and bared his teeth. He barked something that Horza couldn’t understand, seeming almost offended by his subordinate’s question. And when the other uruk nodded towards him-

“‘im too?” His stomach dropped. The intense uruk looked him over then grabbed a hold of the cage door, ripping it off its worn and rusted hinges with such little difficulty that Horza nearly fainted. 

Whatever he said, he said it over his shoulder as he walked away. The other uruk shrugged and walked towards Horza. The orc instinctively tensed and held his breath as the back of his collar was grabbed and he was forced to his feet. He was all but dragged through the coven and he held witness to the horrors that the raiders had inflicted onto the Mystics in the minutes their ambush had taken place. 

Slaughtered, butchered, tongues removed and throats slit… Perhaps it was a mockery of the ritual that would have taken place with him in their place. Horza felt himself fading fast and he had to look away, gulping down the bile that threatened to surge up from his empty stomach. He was picked up, again by his collar, and dragged towards a group of saddled caragor. There was one uruk standing there, looking annoyed and bored. Horza was practically thrown at him and he fell onto the ground and remained there out of fear. 

“‘ere, boss said this ‘un’s going with us.” The other uruk curled his lip.

“Eh? Why?” He looked down at Horza with disgust. The uruk that threw him shrugged.

“Dunno. Wanna be the one to ask him?”

He shook his head ‘hell no’. 

[hailtothemightystarwarrior]

“Oh, adeleine, surely you don’t think of me as that cruel?”

She spun around at the voice and found herself face-to-face with the squeak king once more. She was so surprised that she stumbled backwards onto the floor. Daroach chuckled as he shook his head.

“Must we always meet like this? Me, towering over you and you, cowering in fear? Sweet, sweet, Adeleine, you have nothing to fear from me”

Adeleine pressed her back against the wall as he started circling her. She looked down, trying not to look in those cruel eyes. She shivered as he leaned over and whispered in her ear.

“You are a difficult girl to catch”

She turned her face away and weakly asked, “what do you want from me?”

“I told you. Your brooch”

She decided to be braver and squared her shoulders, still not looking at him. “Well you can’t have it. And if you try to take my brooch…well, you remember what happened last time, and this time, you won’t receive any pity from me”

She yelped as he grabbed her shoulders and spun her around to meet his furious gaze

“Oh, I considered myself as a patient creature,” he growled, “but you’re not making this easy for me! Just give me the brooch!”

“No!” Adeleine spat “You’re evil, I’ll never give it to you!”

Daroach felt like he’s ready to strangle the girl, but he took a deep breath and smiled

“My previous offer still stands. I can send you home to that drab orphanage”

“It wouldn’t matter!” she exclaimed, pushing him away. “Even if you’re telling the truth and you do send me back, my friends will still be here, and no doubt you will make them suffer! I’m not even sure you will keep your word! Monsters like you never do!”

The word “monster” pierced him like a sword and his eyes flashed red as he stormed over to her. She screamed as he gripped on her robe.

“WHY YOU NO GOOD FOR NOTHING LITTLE WENCH!”  he bellowed, pushing her to the ground “YOU THINK YOU CAN BACK TALK TO ME LIKE THAT?! ME?! THE MASTER OF THE SQUEAKS?! THE MASTER OF ALL THINGS…”

He paused when he heard a soft whimper. Daroach would be able to hear little sniffs and hiccups; it was probable the girl was trying not to cry as she lay on the ground. Adeleine’s face was hidden by her black locks, but all he could see was a single teardrop plop to the floor. His heart instantly softened and he reached out his paw.

“Shhh, shhh, don’t cry…” he whispered as he gently touched her chin. He couldn’t help but draw out his handkerchief to gently wipe her tears away. He thinks she’s adorable when she cries. Her tears are like little stars falling out of her eyes and her blush makes her innocent and natural as a rose.

Adeleine’s eyes widened in bewilderment as he tenderly lifted her head. She wanted to tear herself away, but something about his surprisingly warm gaze had her frozen in place. Why did he always have the same effect on her?

[minarcana]

Laurel nearly put her weapon to the Exarch's throat when he kept trying to delay telling her where the twins were and how to get to them. A miserable guilt after Alisaie fainted in front of her and Laurel hadn't been able to take her hand until it was too late, made worse upon hearing that time is different here, and she hadn't been able to join Alisaie for a year.

She feels like she deserves the biting words, and they make her tear up, eyes misty, and break the last of her self-control. She hadn't grabbed Alisaie when they first saw each other, too caught in alarm by the sin eaters and knowing that it's not very cool to be a teenager with some weird warrior clinging to you and wailing, but too late for that now. Alisaie might rightfully want to smack Laurel around with her rapier, but Laurel launches herself forward and seizes Alisaie into a hug, squishing the younger girl's head against her. "I know!" Laurel is actually crying now. Only in part over Alisaie, the rest over the cumulative weight of anxiety she hasn't had the time to express. Too bad for Alisaie getting stuck experiencing the full brunt of Laurel's emotion, as she's not letting her go. "I'm sorry, I tried so hard to reach you and I've been so angry at myself for not, and thinking of you being alone wherever you ended up, and worried I wouldn't find it out soon enough, and then I do come here and the Exarch is so— I nearly strangled him, Ali!" Laurel sniffs. "He said you told him how bad the timing was, I hope you stabbed him in the cock."

She lets Alisaie go and wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. Okay, okay, she's good, not gonna bawl on Alisaie's head in public and embarrass her any more. She's good. Good! Super! Normal! "I really am sorry. I've been so scared for you, and hearing you guys have been here for a year... I came as soon as I could, I hope you can forgive me."

@minarcana said: [laurel to alisaie] ❝  i’ll always want to listen to you.  ❞

the lump in alisaie’s throat tightened. about a year had passed since she last saw her friend, whereas it must’ve felt much shorter for laurel. she nearly missed the sin eater she was targeting when her cerulean eyes first landed on her, frightened it was a cruel illusion amidst the sands of amh araeng.

perhaps alisaie still couldn’t believe it, even after reconvening with tesleen and the others. she was trembling. actually trembling ! in anger, worry, fighting off the urge to both attack and hug laurel at the same time. ‘ but you didn’t. you left after i asked you not to. ‘ that wasn’t fair, and she regretted the words as soon as they dripped out like venom. the young elezen looked away. ‘ i’m sorry. you didn’t leave. ‘

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Twenty (Part 4)

When I’m certain he’s gone and he’s not coming back, I finally allow my muscles to collapse, and as soon as I do the tears start flowing again. My eyes are already raw, and my throat sore from the last time, and my fingers come to clutch at my heart and my throat as though I need to pull away the invisible hand strangling me. I hurry away from Marnie’s house, down the ramps towards little Seapoint Beach, where the dark sand is littered with slimy seaweed and rubbish from the day, and the moon glints off the waves, white spumes of foam peaking with each undulation. I sit on a wet, green rock and take out my phone. I feel desolate. Sucked under by my loneliness, the knowledge that I have ruined everything and there are things I’ve broken that I may never repair. There is only one person in the world left to call, and I dial the number. 

His voice is cracked and sleepy as it comes over the line. “…Hello?”

I realise that I won’t be able to speak to him without crying. It takes me a long moment to gather myself, my chest heaving with an anticipatory sob. 

He repeats himself, more soberly this time. “Hello? Evie, is that you?”

“Hi Shane.” I blubber. “I’m so sorry I called you.”

“What’s wrong?” 

I sniff. “Are you… I’m so sorry I know it’s like, almost three in the morning… are you still in Cyprus?”

“No, I’m not, we got back earlier today.”

“Oh. You’re in Dublin right now?” my heart lifts with the thought of him being nearby. 

“No, I’m at home in Tullamore at the minute, in mam and dad’s, why?”

“Oh, it’s okay then, don’t mind me.”

I hear fabric crunching over the line, presumably his duvet as he gets out of bed. His voice comes down the line urgently. “Evie, what’s happening? Are you okay?”

“No.” I admit with a soft hiccup, and then my shoulders begin to shake. I bring my free hand to my face, my nose running over my mouth. 

“Where are you?”

“I’m on Seapoint Beach.”

“Alright. Can you stay there? Are you safe?”

I nod. “Yeah, I’m fine, I’m just a bit cold.”

I hear him moving about and the thump of a shoe against the floor. “Hang on, I’m coming.”

“Shane, you’re too far away.”

“I’ll be an hour and a half, there’s no traffic at this time… where’s my keys…”

“I don’t want you to have to do this… I’m sorry I called you and woke you up, you must be so tired…”

“It’s nothing.” He insists. “I’m on the way. Seapoint Beach, the one between Blackrock and Monkstown, right?”

I sniffle “Yeah.”

“Stay there, okay? Don’t move a muscle. I’m coming now.”

“Okay.”

“Call me if you move, or if anything happens. I’ll have my phone with me the whole time.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s grand. It’s nothing.”

We hang up and I wait.

I hear the distant swish of tyres on the road before I see him. The sky is lightening already, even in these early hours of the morning, and his Fiat Punto is backlit with hazy purple as he pulls up to the curb at the entrance to the beach. I gasp with relief when I see him, he gets out of the idling car and I run up the ramp towards him. 

“Evie.” He says as I launch myself into his arms. We don’t usually hug each other, not like this, but tonight he wraps his arms around me and holds me to his broad chest so tightly that I’m afraid he’ll crush my ribs to dust. “I’m here now.” He says. 

“I can’t believe you came all the way.” I say, the sound muffled in his fleece as he rubs my back. “Sure, of course I did. What else was I meant to do?”

“You could have left me here.”

“I’d never do a thing like that.” he says it with this kind of disturbed edge to his voice, as though he can’t fathom that there are men out there who would. He looks down at me and tuts softly. “What are they after doing to you at all?”

“I can’t.” I sob. “I can’t talk about it now.”

“That’s fine.” He says, and then hesitates before saying, “Where’s your top?”

“Oh.” I say, looking down at my bikini and shorts combo. “The rest of my clothes are in a bag inside the house. I’ll just leave them there.”

“A whole bag of stuff, like?” 

I nod.

“I’ll go in and get it for you.”

“You don’t have to, Shane, really, it’s fine.”

“Is there anything important in the bag?”

I pause. “My purse and my phone charger are there.”

“I’ll get it.” He says decisively, and then when I look at him worriedly he reassures me. “I won’t look at or talk to anybody, I’ll just quietly go in and get it and then I’ll leave.”

I tell him where the bag is and how to find it, and then I wait by the car. It’s only five minutes before he comes back with it, takes my hoodie out and tosses it to me. “Throw that on you there.”  

“Shane…” I say as he stands at the driver’s side door across from me. “I’m glad that you came.”

“Yeah it’s no problem.”

“And I’m so sorry.”

“No sure, it didn’t end up being a long drive at this hour anyway.”

“No, I mean, I’m sorry for everything else that-”

“I know you are.” He interjects. “And I’m saying you’re alright, we’re here now, it is what it is. I’m just glad you called me.”

“I’m glad too.”

He gets into the car and leans over to open the door on my side. “Come on, in you get. I’ll take you home to your mam.” And I do, and he sticks on the radio as we pull away, driving on towards the rising sun. 

End of Part 2

Beginning // Prev // Next

[pxrxcxa]

Mean to everyone but me

One shot *

Paring | Eddie x fem reader

Post summary | Eddie finally comes to terms with his feelings (and even though it’s a rocky road) he starts to make up for his mistakes with a fresh start

Post warnings | Smut 18 + (minors DNI I will chase you with a broom), p in v unprotected, f oral, m oral, spanking, over stim, FLUFF & idk what else, just pure smut so enjoy & let me know if I missed any.

Word count | 7.5 k word count (holy f)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

As always, any & all comments/reblogs are most appreciated - Love, P. x 🌿

Authors Note | I don’t consider myself great at writing fluff but I tried my hardest so let me know what you think! Also!? Guess whose on time for once lmao - even though this was extremely over due. Let me know if y’all want a part 6

“You’re going to wish you didn’t.”

Eddie’s words cut through the heavy tension that my admission had created. My heart hammered like crazy as he slowly turned to face me, the door handle rattling as he flexed his fingers around it.

I could feel the blazing heat flooding my cheeks as his stare met mine, making my knees shake as I crossed my arms over my chest, suddenly feeling so exposed under his dark glare.

His words should have made me tremble with fear. With regret. But they were laughable, because I’d known all along, even before I’d admitted to myself the strength of my feelings for Eddie.

Eddie Munson wasn’t the type of boy you were supposed to fall in love with, because he wasn’t the type to love you back.

I let my eyes flutter close as unrelenting tears sprung to them, listening out through the music for the unmistakable sound of the door closing.

It never came.

“Because I’m never gonna let you go now.”

I didn’t have time to react to his words before he was across the room in three long strides, lifting me off my feet as his hands strangled the sides of my waist, guiding me back against the wall and resting me against his body.

He bowed my core against his, pressing his lips deep against mine as I let out a gasp of surprise and shock, hesitantly reaching up to brace myself against his shoulders as I waited for him to pull away again. His kiss was urgent, devouring as he stole away what little breath I had.

I tightened my grip on him desperately as I bit back a cry, feeling my eyes burn as I waited for him to slice into my heart again with his talent for poisonous words. Eddie’s eyes flickered up from my swollen lips to meet my stare as his fingers traced the side of my face.

“Really?” His question, and the bare vulnerable, painstaking expression on his face left no room for confusion over what he meant.

Eddie didn’t know what it was like to be loved.

“I’ve loved you since freshman year Eddie. From the first time I watched you save one of the other guys in my year from being bullied by Jason in the cafeteria.” His half smirk flashed in the dim lighting between us as I laughed.

“I love everything about you. Even when you’re being mean.” I shrugged my shoulders and gave a little sniff as Eddie let his eyes drop out of shame, the embarrassment of my confession heated the air between us.

I stayed still as I moved my hands behind my back and Eddie hung his head, feeling my chest rise and fall heavily as I let him mull over my words in silence, I could see now how hard it would be for him to trust and believe me, after being constantly abandoned by every care giver he’d had, I wouldn’t be jumping to trust anyone anytime soon either.

But I didn’t know how to prove it to him more than I already had, and I’d already hurt myself in more ways than I thought possible by trying to get him to open up. Now that I’d been completely honest, enough had to be enough, I couldn’t keep dragging myself over knives while he decided when he wanted to play nice, when it suited him.

If Eddie decided to walk away, it would be his decision.

And I would have to let him.

“Can I drive you home?”

I tried not to let the heartbroken disappointment show on my face that those words weren’t the ones I was waiting for.

One more time.

I avoided the mirror on the closets as I let my fingers intertwine with his to save myself seeing the hypocrisy and weakness plastered across my face, following him as he held his arm out behind him and pulled me through the bedroom door back into the dancing crowd that piled up in the thin hallway of Steve’s front entry hall.

Eddie’s grip on my hand was soft as he shouldered his way through the crowd, turning his head to the side to make sure I was still pressed safely against his back as the drunk party goers shouted loudly from all sides.

The cold, fresh night air was a slap of relief as I stumbled against Eddie’s arm, gripping the leather of his jacket as my heels clacked against the cement. I glanced up at him sneakily through my lashes lidded heavily with mascara that I was sure was smudged by now, following him as he steered me towards his van parked at the end of the street. The silence grew heavier as we left the grinding sounds of a deep base and hoots of drunken laughter behind, the increasing wind sending goosebumps up my bare arms as our loud breathing became the only sound between us.

My eyes grew wide at the act of chivalry as Eddie walked me to the passenger side of his van, pulling the door open and reaching for my elbow as he helped me into the seat as I wobbled unsteadily in my heels.

His eyes darkened as I settled back into the scratchy fabric, toying with my hands in my lap as I avoided his glare. I felt his presence hulking over me as he leant in closer and I gulped as a long cold finger tapped my chin up.

“Seat belt.” He grinned wide enough to light up his eyes as my face blushed deeply, watching the way his pink lips stretched across his sharp teeth as the slightest dimples popped up in his cheeks.

I used the few seconds it took him to walk around to his own door to catch my breath, flipping down the visor to assess the damage. I quickly wiped the corner of my mouth where my lipstick had been smudged by Eddie’s mouth and wiped under my eyes to clear the messed mascara from Eddie’s cruel words.

A swirl of cold air filled the cabin as Eddie slid into his seat, the floor vibrated beneath my feet as he clicked the engine over and a geared up tape blasted through the speakers, making my teeth chatter as the base shook my bones.

“Sorry.” Eddie laughed, quickly spiraling the dial down as he hit the gas pedal.

The low voice of a band I didn’t recognize played in the background as Eddie drove, I fixated on the darkened passing houses to avoid watching him. To avoid the bundle of nerves that mangled my stomach together each time I thought of his face when I told him I loved him.

He hadn’t walked away, but he hadn’t said it back either.

I chanced a sneak look at him and my stomach dropped into my ass. Eddie was already staring at me with a strange look as I dropped my eyes to my lap.

I flinched as his hand slid to my knee, squeezing the cold skin as his low voice filled the quiet.

“You okay? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this silent.” He joked, rubbing his thumb across my bare skin as my eyes traveled up the veins in his taught arm.

“I don’t know what to say.” I replied honestly, my voice lifeless as I bit back an unexpected sob in my throat.

“Y/n I -“ I hadn’t meant to cut him off, but my surprise broke through.

“How did you know where I lived.” I shot him an incredulous look as he huffed and pulled back his hand, gripping the steering wheel as we pulled to a slow stop at the curb of my street.

“After you stalked me at Hellfire to hook up with me the first time, I paid attention.” I wasn’t sure how I felt about his half insult half compliment, so I stayed quiet and shot him an annoyed glance. He looked pissed off as he avoided my stare and leant back in his seat, pressing his lips together as he undid his seat belt.

“Eddie… my parents are home.” I clenched my hands around the seat underneath me, kicking myself because I didn’t want to leave yet, even though I’d sworn to myself I wouldn’t let him use me anymore, I had thought he’d drive us back to his place, not mine under the watchful eyes of my strict parents.

I didn’t want to leave Eddie.

If I left right now, I didn’t know if he’d come back, or if I’d let him.

He grinned at me and shook out his curls, turning off the engine as we were immersed in darkness.

“Don’t worry about it.” His breath tickled my chin as he leant over to undo my own belt for me

“Second level, first bedroom at the front right?” My eyes went wide at his correctness as my mouth gaped. He raised his brows at me until I nodded, winking as he slid out of his seat and waited for me at the front of his van.

“How are you-“ I peered up in the darkness as the lines of his face burned fiercely in the flame of his lighter as he lit up a cigarette, blowing the smoke over me as I pointedly coughed.

“I said don’t worry about it.” He laughed as he pushed my hair back over my shoulder, exposing the bare skin on my cleavage glowing in the moonlight.

“Damn dress.” He muttered so quietly I wasn’t even sure I’d heard him before he dropped his hand, tracing it down my arm before he let it drop to his side.

“You should head inside y/n. It’s late and your parents are probably worried about what you might be up to.” Eddie laughed loudly and turned away from me to hide his gleeful expression, taking a long draw of his smoke before his dropped it the asphalt with a spark of embers.

I spun on my heels and stalked up the side walk, stumbling as the concrete turned to grass beneath my shoes. I quickly kicked them off as I hesitated under the yellow porch light, clasping them in one hand as I turned the door handle as quietly as possible, cringing as the loud creak echoed into the hallway. I had just placed a light foot onto the bottom step of the stair case as my dads sleepy voice rung out from the lounge room.

“Y/n, is that you?” His voice was thick with sleep and muffled.

“Yeah it’s me dad.” I clenched the banister as I heard him yawn.

“It’s late. I thought we said eleven.” He started to sound clearer as I heard the recliner groan.

Shit

“I know I’m sorry. Nancy got sick and I had to take care of her.” I bit my tongue over the anguish of lying to my parents, making a mental note to fill Nancy in case our parents ran into each other at the grocery store.

“Were you drinking?” I rolled my eyes and sighed into the darkness, taking a few more steps.

“No dad.” Not technically a lie.

“Come in here.” I watched the volume on the tv turn down as I peered through the banister down the hall.

Fuck, my dad might have been the more relaxed parent but I definitely was not wearing a parent approved outfit. I tensed as I jogged up the last few steps, shouting out quietly over my shoulder as I heard him walking down the hallway.

“I don’t feel well either dad- probably a bug! I’m going for a shower!” I quickly spurned across the thick carpet, slamming my bedroom door behind me as I spun around to lock it. I let my heels drop to the ground with a muted thud as my breath stopped in my throat.

Eddie was lounging across my made bed spread, tossing a childhood stuffed teddy in the air before catching it and throwing it higher. He smirked at me with an amused look as I leant against the door, my eyes flicked over to my bedroom window that opened up to the roof of the ground floor, a cold breeze flowed through the open inch of it, I scowled back at Eddie.

“How the hell did you beat me?” I accused, strutting across the room to slam it shut.

“A stomach bug huh?” Of course he’d been eavesdropping, I sighed before I turned to face him as he watched me.

“Okay well I am actually going to go for a shower.” I snapped, my exhaustion from the night and Eddie’s antics seeping through.

“I need one to.” He flew up from the bed to block the door to my bathroom.

“I only have one towel.” I shot back.

“I’m sure we’ll figure something out.” His grin was devilish as he ran his eyes over my frame slowly.

The intimacy of the situation hit me, knocking my breath away. Eddie was here in my bedroom, in my safe space, the physical objects of my soul laid bare for his judgmental eyes.

“I’ll be good.” His smile had dropped, and an earnest pleading look had replaced it.

I wasn’t sure what I was agreeing to, but I nodded my head, allowing Eddie to follow me into the cold tiled bathroom that ran off from my room. His heat burned into me as he walked close behind, keeping a light touch on my back as I flicked the fairy lights on, dousing us in a soft golden glow.

I spun around to face him as a deep laugh buried in his chest rose to his throat as I exposed more girly decor to him.

“Not what you expected?” I challenged, reaching up to pull pins from my hair.

“It’s just… soft.” He admitted, I froze as his deft hands moved to replace mine, pulling the bobby pins away from my flowing hair quicker than I could.

“But so are you.” His brown eyes dropped down to mine as I slowly backed into the counter top, hardly darling to breathe as Eddie worked away at my hair.

As he pulled the free locks over my shoulder, I reached for the pack of makeup wipes tucked away with the rest of my skin care, laughing at the confused look on his face.

“I’ve got to wipe this all off, Eds.” I waved a hand towards my heavy makeup as slight embarrassment filled me. His jaw clenched before he pulled the wet fabric from my hands.

“Can I?” His voice was low and electric in the small space between us, all I could manage was a nod as he offered me half a smile.

I wrapped my hands around the back of his neck as my balance was stolen from me, Eddie gripped the sides of my waist to lift me onto the counter, softly spreading my legs to slide between them as he lifted the wipe to my cheek.

His tongue sat between his full lips as he slowly, with the most gentle concentration I had ever seen Eddie have, washed away the layer of makeup I had carefully applied. I laughed at his little triumph ‘Aha’s’ as he finally managed to clear away my waterproof mascara. I couldn’t hold back my teasing giggle as he panicked over being too rough with my eyelashes.

I had my hands resting on his hips as his hand held the back of my shoulder and the other pressed the cold cloth against my raw skin, wiping over it until he was happy with his work.

Warmth filled the space between us, but my smile slid from my face as reality kicked in, wishing with everything I had that it could be like this all of the time.

Eddie didn’t notice as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of my nose.

“There, all done.” He grinned as I shuffled off the bench, turning towards the mirror to examine his work.

“Well done.” He beamed at my praise as I glanced at the shower.

“Here.” He dropped the dirtied wipe into the sink as he turned to me, reaching down to the hem of the dress as he watched my face with careful eyes, waiting for me to stop him. I kept my face clear as he slowly pulled the red fabric up over my thighs, bunching it around my middle as I raised my arms over my head so he could pull it free.

It wasn’t the cold that made my skin shiver as Eddie dropped the dress to the floor, biting his cheek as he ran his fingers lightly across my chest, down over my bra and along my stomach. I caved under his touch as he traced the think lacy material of my panties.

His eyes flashed to my face as his name passed my lips in a quiet moan, searching my eyes as I trembled against him. His face was flushed and his eyes were bright as his apples Adam rolled.

“Can I shower with you?” The twinkling lights threw shadows across his face and the hard panes of his chest as he stepped back to drop his jacket off his shoulders and tear his shirt over his head. I brushed past him to switch the shower on, flinching as I ran my hand under the burning water. I didn’t turn back as I reached up to unclasp my bra but I did hear Eddie’s sharp intake of a breath as I let the scratchy fabric fall from my chest. I bit my lip as I shimmied my matching panties down my legs, kicking them to the side as I stepped into the steaming shower.

I plunged my head under the hot stream as I felt more than heard Eddie move in behind me, as I hid away in the water Eddie wrapped his hands around my middle, pressing his warm lips to my back as I felt the water droplets ricocheting off his shoulders. With slow careful movements, I turned around to face him.

He kept his eyes on my face as I traced my nails over his arms, across his chest and down over the snail trail covering the slight definitions between his abs. My cheeks burned as my eyes fell to his boner, pointing at me angrily. I glanced back up at Eddie’s wet eyelashes with a matching smile but he shook his head, signalling for me to turn back around as he reached for the body wash on the shelf behind me.

I couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped me as he massaged the lather of the grapefruit concoction into my shoulders, pressing his thumbs in as I melted back against his chest. As Eddie’s hands worked over and into every crevice of my body silently, with a content smile on his face. I turned into a pile of melted putty in his capable hands, watching the white foaming soap buds travel down my legs and disappear into the drain. By the time his fingers traced the outline of my lips, a dripping wetness was pooled between my shaking legs.

“Why don’t you go get that one towel while I rinse off?”

I obliged silently and stumbled from the shower like I was drunk, reaching for the white fluffy material hanging by the door as I dropped water all over the tiled floor. Steam clouded the mirror as I watched the blurry outline of my silhouette cross the bathroom floor, leaving Eddie behind as he hummed and bopped his head to an unfamiliar tune.

I headed straight for my dresser, pawing through the legions of old pajamas as I searched for the silk set my mother had gifted my for my birthday this year. My fingers closed around the blue material as I wrenched them from the draw, with frenzied speed I quickly dried my body and applied the thinnest layer of scented lotion before I hung the towel back up over the bathroom door, practically diving into my bed as I sat up crossed legged and began to untangle my hair with my fingers.

I tried to sort through my thoughts as I hyper ventilated, chewing on my cheeks as the shower taps turned off with a creek. Why did he have to do this now? I didn’t expect him to say he loved me back, but surely even this was cruel beyond what Eddie was capable of? Being extraordinarily nice and intimate after all this time of me begging him to? To toy with my heart and feelings after I ripped them open to him?

I hated everything about this, and I hated myself more because I knew I was going to let him use me again.

One last time.

Just like any other junkie, telling myself whatever I needed to hear to justify it.

I wasn’t going to say no though, I couldn’t.

The first tear fell as Eddie sauntered through the door, water droplets dripping from the ends of his tights curls and onto his exposed chest as he tightened the towel around his waist.

“Just a heads up, I’m gonna need to borrow your hair dryer in the morning.” His grin slid from his face as he looked up at my tear stained one, shooting across the room towards me. The mattress groaned under his weight as he leant in towards me, cupping my chin as I avoided his eyes.

“Hey what’s wrong?” His voice was desperate as my hands went limp on my lap, collecting the steady stream of tears that dripped off the end of my nose.

“Please don’t cry. Tell me what I can do.” I stared back at Eddie through my blurry lashes as a sob etched itself in my throat, threatening to choke me as he stared back pleadingly.

Damn him for being the reason and remedy.

Damn him.

I threw myself against his chest with a sharp smack, pawing at each inch of his skin that I could get my hands on. My wild move caught him off guard for only a moment before his lips picked up pace with me, molding against me hungrily as he laid me back against the covers. His hot lips moved to my skin along my neck as I twisted my hands in his wet hair, massaging his scalp as he moaned against my collar bone.

“What’s.” He moved his lips down along my chest, nipping at my hard nipples, bare beneath the silk top.

“Wrong?” Eddie nudged my legs apart as he settled in comfortably between them, lifting up his hips as he pulled the towel away and tossed it into a corner of my room.

He pulled back with surprise flaring in his eyes as I tugged on his hair painfully, bringing his lips to mine with an urgency I’d never shown him. Eddie gasped over me as I bit down on his lips, swirling the taste of his blood in my mouth as I let him pull back from me.

“You.”

“What?”

“You’re what’s wrong.”

His face fell as he collapsed against my chest, loosing his grip on my hip as he searched my face for something. There were still tears in my eyes and my lip trembled, but I could feel the wave of rage simmering beneath the surface.

“Punish me.” His voice was gruff and laced with lust as his fingers tugged at the hem of my shorts.

“What?” My gasp was half filled with laughter but my shock was soon drained from my face when I seen that he was serious.

“Punish me. For everything mean thing I’ve said and done to you. Punish me. Get it all out.” His eyes darkened and sent a flutter through me as his moving frame blocked out the flickering light from my bedside.

I tried to keep my concentration as he lifted himself above me, bringing his knee between my thighs and resting it beneath my mound. I groaned as I pushed down against it, rolling my clit against his hard knee as his mouth moved back to my breasts.

With a low gasp I knotted my fingers in his half dried curls, guiding his head as he dotted my chest with kisses, slightly lifting his knee as I ground down on it, arching my back as I hit the sensitive spot that sent a thrill through my core.

“Say it.” His voice was mumbled in between hickeys he was leaving on my sternum.

“Huh.” My eyes rolled back as my pace picked up, the wetness dripping out of my folds as I moaned his name.

“Tell me what I’ve done that’s hurt you baby.”

My shoulders left the bed as he hand slipped between my legs and he pulled his own away, rubbing against my throbbing clit over my panties as I panted.

“Called me names.”

“Names?” He murmured against my skin as his nose tickled my skin across my stomach, I tensed and writhed beneath his touch as his dark eyes flashed up through his lashes to watch me.

“Mhm, whore, slut… mmm” my voice choked out into a gasp as he let one long finger slip beneath my drenched panties, flicking over my bud before it pressed against my soaked entrance, teasing my fluttering walls.

“Ed-Eddie” I begged, bowing down against his hand but he just kept pulling away.

“Are you not my whore?” I nodded feverishly until he let me push down on his finger, sighing as I felt him stretch me out. Eddie grinned against my thigh as he tugged my panties down my thigh.

“What else baby?” He skillfully rubbed soft circles on my clit with his thumb as he worked away at that squishy spot inside of me that had me flinching off the bed with each thrust.

“You hit me…” Eddie pulled his hand from me with an exotic sound as my eyes flew open in protest, heat flashed through me as I watched Eddie suck his finger and his eyes rolled back in his head.

Eddie glanced down at where I was quickly coming undone beneath him, he leant down to caress the side of my face before placing a soft skin against my quivering lips, forcing my essence into my mouth with his tongue.

“I know I did baby. I’m sorry. I won’t ever do it again unless you ask.” Cold air swirled between our bodies as he pulled back quickly, gripping my thighs until he spun me over, face down into my pillow as he pressed into my ass. I let out a gasp he didn’t hear as he started to massage my soft skin, playfully tapping at my ass until I was arching back in the air for more.

“Tsk tsk, gotta ask for it baby.” I felt my slick dripping from my cunt down my legs, ruining the clean sheets under me, but Eddie’s voice was enough to send me over the edge.

“Please Eddie.” I reached back and connected with his knee, my fingers traced the wet patch my pussy had left on it.

“Please what?” He growled, leaning up on his legs until I felt his hardened length teasing my entrance.

“Please smack me.” I buried my face as I felt my walls flutter around nothing, muting my light cry as Eddie’s flat hand smacked down against the fleshy part of my ass.

“Such a fucking pretty pussy.”

Tears leaked out of the corner of my eyes from Eddie’s praise, a knot forming in my stomach over the thought of watching him come undone over me.

“More.” The mattress rocked as Eddie pressed into me, using his free hand to rub his dick up and down my soaked folds as I shivered in anticipation, his tense hand hammered down against my soft flesh as I cried out louder this time, relishing in the pain.

“Need you Ed’s please.”

“What else baby. Tell me.” I could hear the desperation in his voice as he pressed his cock against me again, faltering beneath his own touch as I wiggled back.

“Leaving me.” My sob was hidden as I felt Eddie pause behind me. He leant forward over my back to press a soft kiss to my jaw as he traced the hand print I was sure he’d left before he buried himself inside of me with a groan. My wetness and his precum made our bodies glide together effortlessly as I moaned into to my frilly pillow, my body twitched as Eddie reached around to rub purposeful circles on my clit as he kept up with he strokes.

“I’m never going to leave you again.” I could have cried, from his words or his cock it didn’t matter.

It was Eddie, all Eddie as I lost myself in the feeling he was pounding into me. His grunts became labored as I shook, lifting off the mattress as I felt my orgasm wrap its talon around my core.

“Wanna feel you come on my face.” I didn’t have time register his words over the roaring in my ears before Eddie pulled himself from me and flipped me back over, burying his face between my legs as he lifted both my legs over his shoulders. The sheets bunched beside my body as pulled them off the corner, turning my head to hide my face in them as Eddie’s lips sucked at my clit, tugging it’s with interest at each shock it sent through my body. Embarrassing noises echoed throughout my room as his tongue lapped at my wet pussy, running up the length of it until it reached my sensitive bud and he flicked it over softly, grinning against my core with each whimper that tumbled from my throat.

Eddie’s arms locked around my thighs as I tried to wiggle away, my oncoming release taking over my body as I both wanted to press my cunt down against his face and not being able to hand the sensitivity.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck Eddie Eddie Eddie.” He didn’t relent as my legs clamped down on the sides of his head and I reached down to tear at his hand as my orgasm stole my scream from me, I bit down on my fist as I tried to remind myself I was in my childhood bedroom, flinching as the aftershock waves of my orgasm rolled through, I loosened my grip on Eddie’s hair and relaxed my thighs before his lips attacked my pulsing clit, making me cry out at the over stimulation until I was practically screaming for him to stop as I begged.

Eddie loomed over up me to pressed his soaked face against mine, his chin dripping with my slick as his tongue found me. He was pressing his dripping, solid rock dick against me when I mumbled against his mouth.

“Want you to come in me.” His small smile separated our mouths as he ran his hands back over my chest, tugging at my soft nipples as I squirmed.

“I want to baby, but don’t have a condom.” I shook my head against him, digging my nails in against his shoulders as I forced him on his back and pressed sloppy, urgent kisses down his stomach as he laid back with a groan as he watched my intention become clear.

“Fuck baby, you sure?” My answer was taking his entire, slick soaked length in my mouth until I was gagging on him and he threw his head back against the pillows, cupping the back of my neck and he pulled my hair away from my face.

The mixed salty tastes from both of us layered my tongue as I ran it along the ridges of his cock, tracing my nails along the sides of his pelvis as he bucked up into my mouth. I took it without complaint as the tufts of his pubic hair pressed against my face, relishing as I watched him fall to pieces under my mouth. He’d already been close, it only took a few thrusts down my throat before he was finishing.

“Fuck you’re taking me like a good girl. Fuck I’m gonna come, in your mouth?” Eddie glanced down at me with red cheeks and heavy lashes as I nodded on his cock, pushing him down my throat as far as he would go as I felt and watched him thrust up into my face, tightening his grip until he faltered and his salty seed shot down my throat, I pressed my lips around him as I pulled up slowly, running my tongue along his tip until he jolted and pulled me up against his chest, I’d barely swallowed before he crushed his lips to mine, cupping the back of my head as we tangled our bodies together.

Sleep was an oncoming storm as Eddie tucked the sheets around me, tracing light patterns up and down my spine as he began to hum the same song from the shower, mixing in with the flavour of my dream as I slipped beneath it’s depths.

The pillow I had my arms wrapped around was cold, making me clamp my eyes tighter as I tried to hold onto the memories of last night, not wanting to face the reality of the day time. The sunlight was hitting my room at an angle that told me I’d slept to late afternoon, my mussed sheets were bundled around my waist, flat against the mattress apart from where it fluttered over my body, my bleary eyes scanned the room without hope, knowing without needing to see.

I fell back against my pillows as I watched the towel hung back up over my bathroom door, swing in the fresh breeze that flew in through my wide open bedroom window.

I slammed down the receiver in frustration for what felt like the hundredth time that day, arguing each point with myself like there was two people in my mind, although the headache made it feel like there were a thousand different screams inside of me. I nearly jumped out of my skin as the phone rang with a shrill, its melody sung twice before I ripped it off its hook, readjusting myself against the kitchen stool.

“Hello?” I breathed, twirling my fingers in the cord.

Y/n? It’s Nancy

I was too disappointed and caught up with trying to hide it, that I didn’t even consider lying

"Oh, hi."

What happened to you last night

"Oh um, Eddie. I went home with Eddie."

Oh, well that’s great! you’ll never believe what happened with Steve…

I let her trail off as my thoughts drifted away again, chewing on the inside of my cheek as I promised myself that if I came up with an excuse to get off the phone with her, then I really would call him for real this time.

….Anyways, we should all definitely go on a double date sometime!

The doorbell rung out, echoing down the hallway as I glanced up at the clock hanging above the dining table, wondering who would be at our doorstep at 07.15 pm considering both my parents where in the living room and I was on the phone with my only friend.

“Y/n can you get that?”

“Uh Nance, I have to go.”

Okay, let me know about the double date!

"Uhuh"

I slammed the receiver back down as I slid from the stool, fidgeting with my bathroom belt as my slippers thundered against the hallway runner quietly, in my frustration I hadn’t bothered to check the peep hole in the front door before I tore it open.

I froze like there was a dangerous animal on my doorstep, I probably might of known how to deal with one better anyway.

Because a well groomed, puppy-eyed, recently showered, hair half tamed, holding a bouquet of my favorite colored flowers with a pleading look, Eddie Munson, was not on my list of things I’d expect to answer the door to.

“What’s… all this?” I tightened my thin bathroom robe around me as the cold air rifled my free hair, sending goosebumps up my spine as Eddie ran his eyes over me.

“Bit under dressed aren’t you?” His sneer slid into place easily as he cocked a half smirk, and I pulled the front door tighter behind me to block out the sounds of my parents watching tv. As he ran his tongue over his bottom lip, biting the corner of it, I had half a mind to slam it in his smug face.

I snapped my eyes shut and gave a quick shake of my head to drown out the scent of his minty mix of cigarettes and cologne out of my mind, hating the way his dark leather jacket hugged his lean muscles and how his long lashes threw shadows across his sharp cheekbones under my porch light.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I yelled in a whisper, my eyes darting away from his when something exciting flashed in them, causing my thighs to clench together of their own accord.

Damn it.

“You told me yesterday y/n. If I wanted to see you, I’d have to turn up at your doorstep with flowers to ask your dad for permission to take you out on a date.”

As my thoughts flashed back to us at my locker yesterday, his words stole my breath from me in a rush of air as he leant back on his heels, rubbing his jaw with amusement as my own went slack. At first they sent a thrill through me, before the anger set in at his manipulation.

“I didn’t say that! You said it -“ He cut me off as he slid past me, flexing his hand against the door panel as he shoved it wide out of my grip, pressing his thumb against the corner of my mouth with a smirk as his face bent close to mine.

“Speaking of which, he is home right?” Eddie spun around in the entry half to face me, his smile deepening as my eyes flew wider with each inch the took him closer to the living room. The flowers fell to his side as he raised his brows expectantly at me, cocking his head to the side as I dug my nails into my palms, a disbelieving smile slowly spreading across my face as I scoffed, the bizarre image of Eddie’s dark and intimidating presence diluting the white and soft decor of my home.

I liked the way it looked.

“Y/n, who was that at the door?” A lump rose to my throat as my mother’s sing song voice rung out through the walls, Eddie’s cheeky smirk impossibly widened as my cheeks burned.

“I’ll introduce myself while you get dressed.”

My mind ticked over as I hesitated, watching the narrowing outline of Eddie’s jacket disappear further down the hallway as I glanced down at my scarcely hidden body beneath the thin robe.

Fuck

I sped up the stairs, tearing into my room like a tornado as I grabbed the nearest clothes that I could slide over my hair and legs, not bothering to stop to check if they matched before I practically flew down the stairs again. I almost tumbled into Eddie as I met him and my alarmed parents standing at the bottom of the stair case, Eddie stared back at me amused as I patted my hair down, quickly shooting a look at my body as relief flooded through me that I had on a pair of dark jeans and a flattering new sweater. Eddie still looked like he was holding back a laugh though.

“Y/n you didn’t tell us you had plans tonight.” My eyes flashed from my dads face to my mothers as she spoke up.

“Yes a… date.” I bit back a groan as she ran her eyes over Eddie pinned between them, not unapprovingly as he beamed at her with the flowers held to his chest.

“Make sure she’s back by eleven.” My dads tone was enough to make my knees buckle but Eddie smiled back unfazed.

“I’ll have her back before ten.” He promised, his tone was so respectful and rung with truth that if I didn’t know what we had done in my bed together last night, I would have believed him to be the perfect example of a respectable young gentleman.

Eddie held his arm out to me as he pressed the flowers into my other hand.

“Ready?” He hid his smirk under his innocent smile as I glared at him, shooting my parents a reassuring smile as I followed him down our lighted driveway to where his van was parked.

I felt my parents eyes on our backs as he opened the passenger door for me again, offering his hand as he helped me into the seat. I avoided their stares as I waited for Eddie to join me, reaching out to turn down the volume dial on his radio before we could give my parents heart attacks.

“….so what is this?” I waited until Eddie had driven off at a respectful speed down my street, flicking on his lights as he turned onto a main road.

“Well…” he pulled at his collar as he reached up to smooth down his hair, sparing me a nervous glance.

“I’d kind of like to do this right. And I think a first date is the way to start.” He shot me another anticipated glance like he was waiting for me to laugh, but his words sent surge of warmth through me, blossoming at my core as I failed to keep a smile from spreading across my face.

“You could have given me some warning so I could have dressed better.” I stared at my outfit in dismay, peeking at the glorious that Eddie was drenched in.

“You’re perfect.” His voice was so sure and fierce he almost sounded angry as he stared intently at me.

“Eddie…. I uh.” I dropped my gaze as a blush clouded my cheeks, glancing back up at him as his hand shot into my lap and grip my fingers between his.

“I love you too.” The background song dropped out perfectly as his words hung in the silence between us. A heavy weight I wasn’t aware of, lifted off my stomach and swirled around my heart, spurning into a glittery goldness that warmed my soul and deep within in, filling me with a sickening gooeyness that promised everything to be alright.

“Really?” I grinned as his carefree laughter pounded against my skin, I closed my eyes to soak up the feeling of his essence blending with mine, wanting to freeze this moment for the rest of time.

“After everything I’ve done? And you still stuck around? How could I not? Y/n I… I might be a dick, but I’m not an idiot. You’re the best thing that ever could have happened to me and I’m not fucking it up again.” His eyes flashed with something free as they shone in the darkness.

“I’m sorry.” It was one word, and maybe it wouldn’t fix everything right now, but Eddie squeezed my fingers tightly and fixed me with his inescapable dark gaze, like he intended on saying it until it did.

I didn’t want to sap up the moment with my tears, even if they were filled with happiness.

“Okay… well since you’re open to the idea of dates… Nancy and Steve want to double up.” I joked but still held out hope that normality couples activities would be something Eddie would be willing to try. I bit my lip as his face crumpled up.

“Ugh. You’re the only one I’m nice to, I’ve got no interest in doing that for anyone else, especially not King Harrington.” I traced my nails along his arm as his eyes rolled back slightly.

“But you love me right?… so…” I raised an eyebrow as I pressed on.

“Loving you is gonna get me in a heap of trouble isn’t it?” Eddie shot me a mischievous grin that said he was completely fine with whatever trouble I proposed.

“Heaps.”

Readers - if anyone is looking for a slow burn Eddie x y/n, check out my Opposite Ends series :) (almost completed)

Eddie Tag list }

@ninapengbrev @edwardmunsonsslut @lacrymosa-24 @mavex @fckyeahlames @harrys-tittie @eddieshot86 @sl-tfor-joseph-quinn @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @chickennug90 @miss-momma-drama @stardustmunson @luceneraium @eddiesgffff @sammararaven @nightless @dotslabyrinth @relocatedheads @princessbubblehoe @muggleluna @sagittariughs @gloryekaterina @e0509 @prettysauceyy @urlivingdeadgirl @crimsonsabbath @lem0nb0iii @callsfromshe @lelenikki @bebe0701 @bratckerman @the-tacos-unite-blog @extravagantplant @plethoravellichor @justmesadgirl @corrodedcorpses @fanfictioniseverything @callsfromshe @iiheartu @maximizedrhythms @sleepygery @ms1oftheboys @brittanyyydamnit @xsecretsirenx @clincallyonline17 @goldyghoul @tlclick73 @aaaasdfghjjkkllll @relocatedheads @aquamarieco @figmentofquinn @daydreamerblues @hellfire-puppet @wonderful-outcast @drakensmainbitch @princessbubblehoe @iamaslutforcoffee @emolooswrld @tayhar811 @winterbuckystan1943-1917-1982 @eddiesgffff @alana4610 @munson-fixation @princesscutie23 @random000000sblog @leahthesith @ariesbabycitlaly @harringtonfan4 @briasnow-blog @figmentofquinn @alana4610 @sillypurplemurple @heliumjuliet @smexylittleswine @sav7689 @magnificantmermaid @foxxymunson @hesvoid3434 @capricornrisingsstuff @smileforallthestrangers @mvrylee @princesseddie

Copyright ©️ 2022 by P.McCann.

All rights reserved.

[kageyuji]

shortening his name except he thinks you called him another guy’s name

⤷ oikawa, bokuto, atsumu, suna, mattsun ; [gn!reader]

GENRE/WARNINGS: comfort(?), angst if you squint hard enough, mild swearing

NOTES: i will literally offer my hand in marriage if you reblog. and thank you to @/sugawaaras for giving me the idea for mattsun’s <33

━━ OIKAWA

even though he tried to be confident, in reality, his self confidence sat on a throne built from things he told himself in the mirror and compliments he never believed

so its not a surprise that his first reaction just... isn’t one. he’ll stop and replay it over and over again in his head to make sure he’d heard you correctly

and then his heart breaks — it actually hurts him, makes him feel like he can’t breath, and before he even knows it theres tears in his eyes

of course, he knows you’re never supposed to let the reason you’re crying see you crying

so he attempts to act like he’s more annoyed than that he just had his heart just obliterated

it’s not a secret though. through the pain in his eyes, anyone can see the shattered remnants of what was once his heart

“ru, can you grab my phone for me?” you called to your boyfriend from the couch, remembering that you’d left your phone in the other room.

it was quiet for a moment; not long enough for you to ask if he was okay, but long enough that the silence was odd. you heard heavy footfalls again, then saw oikawa standing just inside the room with a clear look of betrayal on his face.

“what?” you asked him, wondering if he was kidding around. you hadn’t done anything, there was no reason why he’d actually be upset with you.

as he stepped closer to you, you could see the tears whelling up in his eyes, and you were left to wonder what was wrong.

“what’s wrong? tooru, hey, are you ok?” your voice was much softer when you spoke this time. your heart dropped when you saw him step back at your step forward.

“so now you can call me by my name?” you think his voice was meant to be low and hostile, but in his struggle not to cry it came out strangled and cracked.

“what did... do you mean ‘ru?”

“yes! who the hell is that? if you wanted to-“

“no no, babe, your name is tooru. the last syllable of your name is ru. it’s just a shortening of your name, not someone else’s.”

you watched his lips form a smile and he let out something like a laugh, seemingly at his own confusion, and then the tears finally fell.

he’d walked into your arms soon after, with his arms wrapped tightly around you and his face buried in the crook of your neck

“sorry... sorry for not trust- trusting you, i just-” his sentence was cut through with sharp breaths and hiccups, and then finally stopped with your own voice.

“it’s alright, i didn’t mean to scare you. we can cuddle if you want, hm?”

he was already struggling to keep himself from fully breaking down. but when one of your hands came up to pet his hair, a whine left him — you think it was supposed to be an ‘mhm’ to your offer — and his hands gripped tightly at your shirt, his arms around you getting tighter.

━━ BOKUTO

he doesn’t miss a beat, immediately looking up at you to wonder if he’d heard you correctly

it’s just a small spike of anxiety at first, but the more he lets the foreign name resonate with him, the more it makes him worry

he has to build up the courage to ask you who the other guy is, because he can’t do it right away, he’s way too nervous

he looks so sad as well, puppy dog eyes looking at you, seemingly just slightly worried

unbeknownst to you, his heart is pounding in is chest and with each passing second, it runs the risk of shattering

“‘taro!” your voice was a giggle as he left little kisses all over you. they weren’t nearly enough to leave hickeys, just little pecks across your face, your neck, your chest.

as soon as the name left your lips though, he stopped, golden eyes snapping up to look at you with a pain you’d never seen in them before.

you could tell he was definitely upset about something, but you had no idea what it could be. hell, the way he looked at you, it was almost as though you were the reason.

of course, you were unaware that bokuto’s first thoughts went to rintaro, middle blocker from the famed inarizaki. suddenly he was thinking of every time you’d ever spoken about the team, said how many fan girls they had, how many games they’d won.

he wanted to say something. he really wanted to ask what you’d meant. but the words seemed caught in his throat.

it wasn’t long before he couldn’t take it though, and he pushed the words out, despite the alarms going off in his head and his heart immediately jumping to his throat.

“who is ‘taro?” you didnt think you’d ever heard him sound so small. so timid, so close to his voice cracking with the tears he was holding back, so... scared.

“you? who else? i can call you kou if you’d prefer that though. you don’t have to look so upset.”

bokuto smiled then, relaxing the weight on his arms enough so he was on top of you. he supported himself enough not to crush you, but there was nothing more he wanted in the world right now than to be held by you.

━━ ATSUMU

he liked to consider himself a tough guy. he liked to.

but there were times whenever his support fell, leaving his world to crumble in his hands, slipping through his fingers no matter how hard he tried to hold it all together

and when thought he heard a guy’s name that isn’t his own come from you, it felt just like one of those times

he was asking what you’d meant before his mind could even properly register your words

and by that point he didn’t care enough to replay the name in his head, his mind already caught up looking for the things he’d done wrong, the things he hadn’t done.

“oh, ‘umi, if you want to we can go to th-”

“what the hell?”

it surprised you how much venom laced his words, despite the fact that you’d done nothing wrong. the thought that he was being sarcastic or joking with you crossed your mind, but atsumu wasn’t exactly the best actor.

he couldn’t fake the look on his face, couldn’t fake how his heart had seemingly stopped just from the look in his eyes.

“what do you mean?” your voice was soft when you spoke now, no longer so nonchalant.

he lips pressed into a thin line and he set his jaw in frustration. it took him taking a deep breath to finally say, “you called me ‘omi.’ if you like-”

“tsumu.”

“no, i heard you, you called me omi. if- if theres...” he never finished his sentence. there was already a lump in his throat and he knew that if he were to say anything more, he’d cry.

“no, no. i called you umi. like your name just a little bit different.”

his face was drawn in a look on confusion. his eyes studied you, trying to look for any sign of you lying. but he trusted you, of course he trusted you.

he came over to hug you, his arms wrapped tightly around you. you heard him sniff, but you knew he’d deny crying if you asked him.

“i love you,” his voice made him sound so small, it was a level of weak and vulnerable you’d not seen from him.

“i love you too.”

━━ SUNA

the words “stay calm” had never been repeated in his head to himself so much

well, it was more like a string of curse words with “stay calm” thrown in occasionally, but he’d never felt so scared

the look on his face is annoyed at first, but it quickly starts to shift into one with a little more worry

he’s terrified, in all honesty. but he’s already told himself he’s not going to let you see that

“taro, can we stop by a corner store on the way home? i need something.”

your voice had been so calm. so why did it feel like his heart had just been ripped out of his chest?

he knew you hadn’t meant to. but why you’d even slipped and call him by another name in the first place worried him. it took him only a few seconds for his mind to land on bokuto koutarou.

bokuto koutarou, one of the top aces.

“well fuck you too i guess.” his tone may have been confused with one of anger at first, but you could tell that wasnt it. anger is a secondary emotion, you knew in reality he was hurt.

the only problem is, you didn’t know what. from his words you knew it was something you’d done. but there was nothing that came to mind.

“sorry? what did i do?”

suna hesitated for only a second before asking why you’d called him by another name. he took a deep breath immediately after speaking, your silence only breaking his heart more. as though it wasn’t already destroyed.

but your silence was born from shock and confusion, not being caught like suna had assumed.

“taro. like rintarou. like your name. who else would i be talking about?”

“uhm. koutarou? i don’t know, forget about it.” he’d never felt like a bigger jackass before; he never swore at you.

you smiled a little at his words and walked over to hug him. he hummed at that and pressed a small kiss to your temple, then buried his face into the crook of your neck.

“i didn’t mean to-”

“it’s ok, rin.”

━━ MATTSUN

he had to stop for a moment to let it sink in before he could react

after that there were too many emotions rushing through him to do anything for another few moments

in fact, his silence coupled with the distant, betrayed look on his face was somewhat unsettling

it takes him longer than he would like to question you, but it’s because he’s already preparing to collect his shattered heart after one of his worst fears becomes true

“why are you here?” mattsun heard iwaizumi’s voice and he smiled a little to himself, knowing that he must have been talking to you.

he’d been waiting for you all day, it seemed like forever since he’d last seen you. the only thing he wanted right now was to hold you.

“oh, i’m here to see ‘kawa!” you said happily. mattsun could hear the smile in your voice without even seeing you.

you were here for oikawa. of course you were here for starboy oikawa tooru, of course your boyfriend was just a stepping stone.

he was still frozen when you rounded the corner. the look on his face was concerning, you couldn’t remember the last time — if there ever was one — he’d looked absolutely terrified, the last time he looked so hurt.

“mattsun... are you ok?”

he didn’t answer you. it took him a few moments before he could finally speak, and even then his voice was different than it usually was. it was... pained? betrayed? whatever it was, you knew it wasn’t mattsun.

“did you really come here just to see oikawa? what happened to me being your boyfriend?”

it took you a few moments to try and understand what he was talking about. you’d never said that. hell, you always came for mattsun, not once had you ever spared oikawa a thought.

“no, babe. i said ‘kawa’, as in matsukawa.”

he seemed to melt at your words. that expression disappeared from his face, his body untensing. he moved to pull you into his arms, holding you close to himself with a desperation he’d not had before.

him thumb rubbed soothing circles on your back. you could tell he wanted to say something. but then he stopped right before the words left him, instead opting to make a joke to lift the mood.

“good, i was about to kick oikawa’s ass.”

“...we were having a moment.”

[the-lonelybarricade]

Num 12 for feysand please 😊

Sorry this took me so long to get to!! Enjoy some Feysand fluff <33

Every time I look at you, it’s like the first time - Feysand (718 words)

Rhys didn’t know what changed that morning. In reality, nothing did.

He and Feyre had woken up slowly, as they often do on the weekend. A tangle of limbs, warm skin pressed together, sharing breath, sharing heartbeats. They moved together, haloed in the morning light where it poured through the crack in their curtains.

And it wasn’t the sex that did it. It wasn’t Feyre’s lazy smile as she shrugged on one of his shirts and left to go make them each a coffee. It wasn’t the way he admired her ass while she walked away.

It was when he strolled through the kitchen door after having made the bed and cleared up the room. He found Feyre perched against his kitchen counter, coffee in hand with one cup set aside for him. She was staring at something on her phone and hadn’t noticed he’d come in.

It was something about the way her hair spilled into her face, regardless of the bun she’d spun atop her head. Rhys found himself immediately turning around, hurrying back to his bedroom. Maybe it was the routine, the intimacy of living together so seamlessly that he couldn’t remember the first time they'd woken up this way. They had always fallen into a natural rhythm together, so effortless he’d hardly thought to question it. If this was the kind of thing he could see himself doing for the rest of his life.

When he came back to the kitchen, this time Feyre did hear him. And she turned, offering him a smile so beautiful he felt his soul leave his body. Rhys had always imagined roses, music, a crowd of people to witness his love, to immortalize it in video. He’d be wearing a suit.

Instead he dropped to his bare knee on the tile of his kitchen floor, wearing nothing but his boxers. Feyre’s eyes had gone wide, fixed on the velvet box in his hand.

Rhys cleared his throat. “I know it’s not exactly romantic, proposing to you on my kitchen floor. You deserved a grand gesture, and I had always intended on giving you one, but I…” he looked up, into those stunning blue-gray eyes that were now shimmering with tears. “I saw you just now and I couldn’t breathe. That’s what it felt like the very first moment I saw you, and that’s how it’s felt every moment after. And I couldn’t bear another second without you knowing that you are the woman I envision spending my life beside. If you wanted something more elegant, you can say no, and I’ll try again somewhere better. I just wanted you to know that one day this ring will be yours.”

With a shaky breath, Rhys opened the box to show her the sapphire ring nestled inside. It had belonged to his mother, and he knew somewhere she was scolding him for such an improvised proposal. 

Feyre slowly sunk to her knees in front of him, tear tracks staining the soft, rosy slopes of her cheeks. She sniffed, recovering her composure enough to choke out, “Are you going to ask?”

His heart pounded a thunderous beat in his chest. Rhysand smiled, hoping Feyre could feel every ounce of his adoration as he asked, “Feyre Archeron, will you marry me?”

“I’m keeping my last name,” she said with another sniff, holding out her hand to him.

They could both see the way Rhysand’s hands shook as he pulled the ring from the box and slid it onto Feyre’s finger. It was a little loose, and they’d need to get it resized, but—

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, seconds before she launched her arms around him. Rhys fell backwards with a strangled laugh, the weight of Feyre a comfort above him as she peppered his face with kisses. He only realized he’d been crying too when she swiped her thumb beneath his eyes to catch the stray tears.

“And here I took you for a lavish man,” she teased. “I thought you'd fly me to Paris and propose beneath the Eifell tower, or something equally pretentious.”

“Is that what you want?” he asked, feeling a stab of guilt for being so impulsive.

“No,” Feyre whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek, his jaw, his lips. “No, this was perfect.”

[silverdelirium]

XL | D.M

this is based on a hentai i saw LMAOO so all credit goes to that, if you wanna see the visuals, the name is XL joushi. i wasn’t gonna post this today but fuck homework 

summary: reviewing condoms with your co-worker, draco.

warnings: SMUT, supposed to be a bit of a funny picture so👍🏻

———

a small knock could be heard on your door while you were cooking breakfast. you walked towards the door and opened it, looking down excitedly at the new box that the post-man delivered today. you squealed in excitement and grabbed it, heading towards the sofa where you opened it greedily.

“wha- oh, why are there so many?” you questioned to yourself as you picked up one of the many XL condom packages. you didn’t even have a boyfriend, what were you supposed to do with this?

——

you thought about returning them, but yet again, you needed the money but oh well, you didn’t want to think about it right now, not when you were drinking in a bar with multiple co-workers surrounding you.

just as you were about to drink from your firewhisky a large pale hand grabbed it and chugged it themselves. you turned around to see draco malfoy, elegant, classy man. big ego and attitude, you didn’t like that.

“hey! that was my drink!” you exclaimed angrily and looked up at him

he ignored you and sat down beside you, placing your now empty glass on the table.

“didn’t you end up black out drunk last time, y/n?” he asked, a smirk on his face.

you just rolled your eyes at this, he then proceeded to get his chair closer to yours and grabbed the back of your head, pushing it forward and bringing your face close to his.

“you have eyebags y/l/n, have you been short of sleep?” he asked, staring into your slightly hot face and widened eyes.

“i- yes.”

“well don’t drink then, it’s bad for you. something has been troubling you lately?”

fast forward to 10 minutes and here you were, pouring your heart out to draco malfoy, complaining about your economic state, to your shit job, to everyone in a stable relationship but you.

“it’s like everyone hates me.” you sobbed out while leaning your head down on the table. draco eyed you skeptically.

“i just want to meet someone and fall in love.” you said sadly.

——

“so, let’s leave you here yeah?” said draco, holding you up by your forearms and dragging you to your room after entering your flat.

he heard you sniff a bit “you smell nice” you giggled and laid your head on his chest.

“right- hey y/n.” he said, letting you go for a second and walking towards your sofa, holding up the condom packages.

you peeled your eyes open and immediately launched yourself forward to try to stop him from inspecting forward. but he just held out his arm and stopped you, still looking at the condoms.

“oh god- draco stop please.” you said anxiously, completely sobered up now.

“XL? and what are you planning to do with all of these?” he said amused.

“it’s not what it looks like i swear!” you said, frantically reaching for his hand.

——

and after 15 minutes of dragging draco to your room with the package and explaining to him it was just part of your job to review products. he stood with his hands on his hips and staring down at your form that was sitting at the edge of the bed, package next to you.

“so, no guy behind this story then?” he asked. you nodded in response.

“well, at least it wasn’t a phony excuse.” he sighed out, looking around your room. “i like your honesty, great quality of yours hm?” he said, looking back at you. you blushed and mumbled a thank you while looking down.

“but still, they really are condoms huh?” he said, grabbing about three and inspecting them once again.

“i-i am aware. that’s why i intended to try the impossible” you replied shamefully.

“which is? because i’m an XL” he said calmly.

you snapped your head towards him and couldn’t help but trail your eyes down to his bulge. it did look big-

“draco- would you- would you help me?” you asked anxiously, he looked at you and raised an eyebrow “i-i meant taking them home and using them and then telling me what you think of them.”

“y/n this is supposed to be tested as a couple”

“right-” you got cut off by him leaning close to you. “there’s two of us here, correct?”

you were at loss of words his hands were now on the bed, on each side of your thighs.

“get me hard y/n.” he wanted you to get him hard?

he pushed you back onto the bed, climbing over you and kissing you, his tongue diving deep into your mouth, detaching himself from you and unbuttoning your shirt, revealing your tits, he massaged them in his hands, your head leaning back, back arching and bottoms lip caught between your teeth. he noticed this.

“stop holding your voice back.” he demanded, still playing with your tits and rolling the nipple in his fingers.

“i- this is wrong draco.” you said, your voice trembling. he somehow maneuvered you both and it ended up with your skirt off, on his lap, him leaning against the headboard, your shirt still unbuttoned.

“you think this is wrong baby?” he asked, his hands traveling down to your panties and rubbing your clit, while the other one stayed on your breast. you reached your hand back and grabbed a fistful of his shirt. whimpers and ragged breaths escaping your mouth. you could feel his erection on your lower back.

he inserted two fingers in you, a moan escaping you, as you started to wiggle in his lap, trying to break free.

“i think your body is betraying you. can feel how wet you are for me.” he said, his tone husky in your ear.

“oh fuck i’m gonna cum-” you admitted. he removed his fingers. of course he fucking did, he placed you on the bed and grabbed a condom.

“let’s test it, shall we?” he said, holding it up. then unbuttoned his shirt and disregarded his pants. his cock stood tall, you sat beside him and stared at it with wide eyes. was that supposed to fit in you?

“it feels a bit tight, would be better if it was more flexible, i like the length.” he said casually. you weren’t even paying attention, still mesmerized by it.

“don’t stare at it! it’s embarrassing, you know!” he exclaimed, turning his head towards you and narrowing his eyes at you. you gave him a sheepish smile in response.

“let’s hurry up and get this over with” you said, your face heating up by the second.

“wait- give your opinion too.” he stated and grabbed your hand to wrap it around him.

“it’s-it’s big and it’s hot.” you said, not thinking, and just pouring everything out.

“i meant the condom y/n!” he said, yet still removed what was left of your clothing and pushed you back on the bed, turning you on your side and bending your right leg up.

“i appreciate the compliment, nonetheless.” he said, a smirk on his face. he got behind you and pushed the halfway in, and grunted. moans and whimpers escaping your lips, he rubbed your clit and turned your head, smashing his lips to yours, tongue against tongue.

he started to push into you while you tensed your body, yet thrusting at a fairly fast pace, your tits bouncing, a complete moaning mess while he grabbed your thigh and groaned, squelching sounds could be heard around the room.

he grabbed your nipple and rolled it in his fingers once again. this sent you over the edge.

“fuck- i’m cumming, i’m cumming!” you moaned loudly, your juices releasing on the condom with a cry coming out of you. draco himself releasing onto the condom with a strangled moan.

your mind stayed fuzzy until he kissed your cheek. “i don’t think you’ll be able to hold on at this rate.” he chuckled in your ear. you sat up as he got dressed.

“you should sleep, i’m going home.” he said looking back at you.

“draco-” he cut you off by grabbing the condoms and putting them on his suitcase. “i’ll be keeping this so you don’t use them with anyone else.” he said, giving you a nod.

———

join my taglist