#them in a relationship as Bonnie and Clyde

[seesternsstuff]

I just watched the “Please please please” music video and I just couldn’t stop thinking about Lawrusso 😭 Imagine Daniel as Sabrina and Johnny as Barry! Criminal love.

(I know that Daniel is not a prisoner or anything in this photo, but let’s think he is)

⬇️

[velvetydream]

꒰ :🥀 [ The radio star lost ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

Summary : Your husband was the feared serial criminal in New Orleans, Louisiana, and you where his dearly beloved wife, his right hand. So.. Oh what a despair was awaiting you soon..

Pairing : Human! Alastor x Wife! Reader

Word count : 3549 Words

Genre : Angst, Drama, Romance (a bit)

Warnings ➵ Murder, Swearing, Blood, Death, Guns,

Death penality, Corpses

a/n : Continuation of my Alastor x Wife! Reader > Till death do us part < , seeing as this isn't really a continuation, but rather a prequel, it can be read as a stand-alone, hope ya'll still enjoy it just as much as the first part!♡

Another thing in advance, this is purely fiction and shall not be seen anywhere near reality, I do not condone anything in this and it's pureply based on fiction.

┌───────────────────────── ·  ·  ·  · ♡

1933'

You were like Bonnie and Clyde. A criminal duo, invincible. Or so you thought.

Alastor, your beloved husband. The man you had known for almost two decades, married for almost one decade now. You loved him dearly, even with his little quirks and tendencies. He worked as a well-known and quite popular radio host in New Orleans. Yet he had a tendency for disposing of those he deemed right, you had helped him many times already. Having found out way before you even married him, how he was a murderer, yet you found it enticing, how his mind worked, who he deemed worthy to let go.

"Dear, the meal is almost ready!" You got pulled out of your thoughts by the soft voice of your husband. It was rather unusual for the man to cook in a marriage, but your relationship was far from ordinary, so you enjoyed it. His cooking was far better than yours after all. "I'm coming!" Standing up from the couch, you make your way over to the kitchen, there he was in all his glory. His brown hair was pushed back, glasses sitting on top of his head instead of resting on his nose, and sleeves pushed up to not get them dirty, ironic considering the amount of times he got them bloody. "It smells amazing my beloved! Thank you so much!" A quick peck was pressed to your husband's cheek, as you took a seat at the table, some amazing meal steaming on the table. Alastor puts his apron away, sitting down as he slides his glasses back onto his nose.

Dinner time was always one of your favorites during the day, enjoying a warm meal while talking to your husband about both of your days.

Just after you had finished dinner, your husband took a seat in front of the piano, letting his hands softly glide over the tiles. The instrument echoed with the soft tune he was playing. Walking behind him, you lay your arms around his neck softly, swaying your body a bit to the music he played. Alastor was a talented man with instruments, being able to play a few of them, the piano being one of them. Also quite talented with the violin. "Oh my darling, what a beautiful tune as always~" Humming along now. No one heard the screams coming from the basement. The desperate screams of your next victim.

"When we're talking about music right now my dearest, Mimzy invited us to her performance tomorrow! So how about we postpone our.. plans to the day after tomorrow?" No killing and instead going to Mimzy's show? Oh yes! "Oh, how lovely that sounds! Of course!" Agreeing to his proposal. But for now, you two get ready for bed, lying down in your shared bed.

Another one of your favorite times of the day, getting to lay down with him and finally rest, letting the stress and exhaustion of the day pass. "Did I ever tell you that I love you a lot?" Resting your head on your husband's chest now, who was silently reading a book, closing it now that you were talking to him. "Many times darling and I do love you a lot too~" Alastor knew his way around words for sure, he was such a sweet talker, but that's one of the things you appreciated about him. Raising your head to face him, you take a glance at his lips, before up into his eyes, you knew how he felt about touches he didn't initiate, right now you were only cuddling because he pulled you onto him. Chuckling lowly, he lowers his head down and captures your soft lips with his. Alastor's kisses mostly were soft, like a butterfly resting on your hand or like a spring breeze. Usually, his kisses were planted on your hand or cheek, but from now and then he gave you the satisfaction of a soft kiss on the lips, which always left you giggling like you were right now. Falling asleep in the safe embrace of your husband shortly after.

The next day went by smoothly. Alastor was busy with his work as a radio host, while you took care of the house and did some grocery shopping, meeting up with a few friends of yours over tea. Shortly before you went home for the day, you visited Alastors mothers grave to leave some flowers and clean it, you sadly never met her, but your husband tends to tell you a lot of stories about her. Sitting down by the grave for a minute, you tell her a bit about what Alastor has been doing, how you were loving his cooking and music as always. It was a habit of yours, you hoped she was listening to all the good things you were telling her about him. Taking your things after a while, you bid your goodbye to his mother's grave as you make your way back home. Putting away the groceries before starting to freshen up. Loving to take your time to get ready when you and Alastor decide to go out in the evening.

"Dearest I'm home!" Hearing the lovely voice of your husband calling from the door, answering him now, how you were getting ready. Putting on your favorite dress. It was made out of a beautiful deep red color with black lace all over it, a few gems here and there. Your best jewelry could of course not be missing, most of it you got from Alastor or your own mother. "Darling I'm ready! How far are you?" Exiting the bathroom now, searching for your husband and finding him in the kitchen with a glass of whisky. "Oh my, what do I see here? What a lovely gem you are darling!" Abandoning his glass, Alastor walks over to you, taking your hand as he twirls you around, before kissing the back of your hand. Clad in a black suit, his button-up shirt underneath dark red matching to your dress, while his bowtie was adorned with a red gem, he looked lovely. "My you also look lovely dearest! Definitely going to catch some eyes!" Hooking your arm in his now, you together leave the house and make your way to where Mimzy's show will be held.

Mimzy was a great friend of Alastor, a blonde gorgeous but short lady, who performed like no other. Arriving at the place, you were led to a table for the regulars, as Alastor and you were known by the staff by now. Ordering two drinks, as you await the show. Soon lights go out and Mimzy comes out, her singing and dancing amazing like always.

"Dollface! Pumpkin!" Mimzy's voice was booming as she approached your table, giving both of you an affectionate hug. You ended up talking with her for quite a while, telling her how amazing her performance was and that you were so glad that she invited you two again. Thanking you for your kind words, her attention quickly diverted to Alastor again. It was almost always like this, she said she liked both of you, but you couldn't shake the feeling that she did have a certain distaste for you. But you decided to let it slide like always, as you listened to Alastor tell Mimzy what you two were up to since you've last seen her.

Alastor of course started to notice how you were getting irritated by Mimzy and how she was only focusing on him. "My dear, I think my lovely wife is not feeling so well tonight, perhaps it would be better to take our leave now, still thank you for having us as always. Till the next time." Alastor stood up now as Mimzy stomped off with an annoyed face, extending his hand for you. Smiling at him softly as you take his hand and let him lead you outside. A shiver ran down your spine as your arms got goosebumps, a coat was soon placed over your shoulders, looking over to Alastor who watched you with a soft smile. "Dear, next time you feel uncomfortable please do tell me and we will leave immediately, you know how much I care for your comfort." Thanking him, you take his arm as he leads you through the park to your home, it was a little longer than walking through the streets, but it was calming to walk through nature together.

"Shall we head to bed? It's been a long day and evening." Taking the coat from your shoulders at home, he hangs it on the hanger beside the door. "I love that idea, let me tell you about my day in bed, I visited your mothers grave again." You were already walking to the room as you talked to him, so you weren't able to see his eyes follow you as they softened. It saddened him you never got to meet his mother, she would've loved you dearly, just as he does. Telling him all about what you told her before, how you left flowers and also cleaned her gravestone, as you settled into bed, as he was changing into his sleepwear. Alastor was so thankful for having a caring and lovely wife like you.

The night went by fast, today Alastor would finally have a day off from work, which meant a different kind of work today for both of you!

The steps down to the basement squeaked as Alastor put his weight on them, your heels making clicky noises as you followed him down a stark contrast in sound. And there sat the victim he deemed perfect for his next case. The screams would be recorded for his personal little collection. You were getting everything ready for him, it would be interesting to watch like always. Alastor changed so much when he killed, no shimmer or glimmer in his eyes, not how he looked at you, the soft gaze replaced with a blood thirsty one. Liking it quickly, you were soon getting rid of the victim, this time deciding to bury him in a forest, you opted for the forest a few times already even though it was a bit risky, it was the easiest to get rid of them. At home, Alastor decided to take a bath, as he told you to head to bed already with a kiss on your cheek.

When he joined you in bed, he looked relaxed, cuddling up to you. Murders always ended like this, it somehow made him so calm and affectionate with you. Placing a soft kiss on your neck, as his arms hold your waist. Your hand threaded through his brown soft locks, something you loved to do. For once your beloved husband fell asleep quicker than you, making you be able to watch him sleep, not in a creepy way, but in a loving way. Alastor was often so stressed with work, yes he loved being a radio host, but it sometimes got to him. Rubbing your fingers over his cheek softly, then over the bags under his eyes before pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. Yourself slowly falling into dreamland.

Morning came way too quickly, Alastor was back to work, and while you decided to stay at home and do some housekeeping, a few rooms needed cleaning. A friend of yours stopping by to tell you how a new corpse was apparently discovered by the police, which is connected to the many murder cases lately. Tensing up a little bit when she told you how they discovered it in the forest after one of the farmers nearby saw some shadows in there. It couldn't be the corpse from last night, right? Simply agreeing with her that you would be careful, even telling her how your dear husband would never let something happen to you on his watch, which made her coo at your marriage, if only she knew..

Mid conversation your husband comes home, greeting you with a soft kiss on the cheek before he leaves for the back of your home. Your friend leaves soon after, as you go and search for your beloved. Finding him in his office, gripping the table. You knew what was about to come.

"Dear?" Approaching him, Alastor pushes everything on his table off, papers scattering, a cup breaking as pens roll all over the floor. "They already discovered it.. HOW?! I was careful! Pathetic! How dare they! Are they making fun of me?!" Worried for your husband, yet you stood still, listening to him. "I had to talk about it today! At the broadcast! Act as if I was surprised! Haha! If only they knew! Right doll?!" Turning around, his eyes were darting around the room, before falling onto you, laughing as he took your hand to pull you in. "They really think they can discover us like this! US! They are worthless! Pathetic even! Oh my dear! We truly are the greatest!" He was twirling you around as if dancing now, despite no music playing. Only his mad monologue. You've dealt with this behavior a couple of times already, knowing to just let him act and talk for now as he pleased. "Oh, what a wonderful day my beloved! I will go and make my favorite dish for us now! How beautiful!" Leaving the room now, a skip in his step, as you bend down to clean up the mess your husband caused.

Joining him in the kitchen now, as he was softly humming to the radio as he was cooking his favorite, Jambalaya.

A knocking sounds from your door, looking up, you tell Alastor you are going to get it, and upon opening it you come face to face with a detective and a police officer. "Greetings ma'am, is your husband home?" His voice was deep, you nodded, leaning the door closed as you hurried into the kitchen to get your husband. "Greetings gentleman, how may I help you?" Alastor opened the door composed as ever, drying his hands from washing them with a clean towel, as he gave the men at the door a polite smile. You retreated back to the living room, still listening to their conversation. Asking him about the murder cases, why him? It was probably only because of the radio broadcast, right? Maybe his boss told him to talk about it without the detective's permission. As the door closes and Alastor is back in the kitchen, still calm as always as you join him. "Dear? What did they talk about?" Looking up at him with worry written all over your face, he turns to you. "Don't worry your pretty little head dearest, it was nothing to be mentioned! Smile dear, you know you're never fully dressed without one!" Pushing the corners of your mouth up with his fingers now, making you smile, before shushing you out of the kitchen so he can cook. Not able to help it but worry, were you about to be figured out?

But over the course of the next few days it all calmed down again, no more police officers or detectives visiting you, which finally calmed your mind. Alastor meanwhile had found a new target, telling you about this man he met the other day and what bothered him. It was all back to normal now, which you were glad about. Till this one dreadful day.

Alastor and you made quick work of the man, your husband telling you to stay home this time to clean up and that he would take care of this on his own. You worried again, but he assured you that he would be quick, after cleaning up and getting rid of any evidence, you cleaned yourself and sat down to wait for your beloved. Yet after hours of not coming back, you grew anxious, desperate even to know what took him so long. As a knock echoes through your house, you rush to the door, opening it ready to scold your husband for taking so long, but your breath stops when a detective stands in front of you.. What happened?

He asked to enter your home, sitting you down on the couch as he took a seat opposite of you on the armchair. "Your husband got shot ma'am, he was burying a corpse, we assume him to be the serial killer at fault for so many murders lately. He passed away instantly, I'm sorry for your loss and to bring you this horrific and murderous news." Your ears were ringing. Huh? Shot? Was that man joking with you? Was he someone Alastor paid to prank you? No, he wasn't the type for these kinds of pranks. Tears were streaming down your face, burying it in your hands now, sobs shaking your whole body. If that stupid man just knew, knew how you helped your husband with everything! Stupid! "Ma'am I-" The detective started, when you darted up, grabbing the man by his hair and throwing him out of your house. "Get lost! Never show up again! Leave.. NOW!" Slamming the door shut now, he probably took this as a shock to knowing who your husband really was, but you knew that already for years. Sinking to your knees, your arms hug around you as your head hits the floor, screams and cries of agony echo through the now empty halls. Your husband, the man you loved so much was dead, just like this? What sick nightmare was this? Cries reduced to soft sobs when your throat started to hurt, by now your body was curled up into itself on the floor and like that, you fell asleep.

The next day you awoke to the sunlight, your body sore from crying and sleeping on the floor, looking around for a second, for Alastor before it doomed on you, he was dead. Shot like an animal.

Your mother accompanied you to identify your late husband, you of course clad in all black. His forehead is now adorned with a hole, the detective explaining to you that he was mistaken for a deer. Asking for some privacy from everyone, you were left alone in the room. If it wasn't for that damned hole he looked like he was simply sleeping, peacefully like the night before. Leaning down to press one last kiss to his temple. "I will always love you my dearest, for now and forever, till I join you in death."

Leaving the room, you didn't dare look back, you were going forward from now on, knowing that someday you would meet him again.

Your mother had offered for you to move back in with her, but you told her despite what he did, he was a lovely husband to you and that you weren't able to yet let go, which she understood. Back at your home, you sat down and just stared at the wall. Why did this have to happen? You could be cuddling together right now or enjoying a meal, but that would never be the case ever again. But you told yourself, swore yourself with that last kiss to his temple that you would carry on in his memory. And so you did, three more murders continued after your husband was dead, till you were discovered.

In front of the law, you were sentenced to the death due to having caused three murders yourself and helped with multiple, carried out by your late husband. You accepted it, not that anyone asked, but you would be seeing your husband again, at least you hoped you would. A few days later after the case was closed and you were sentenced, it happened.

1935'

"Alastor! Dearest! Charlie told me you wanted to see me?" Entering the radio tower with a bright smile, Alastor turned to you with his signature smile. "My beloved! You look lovely as always! Look at you, aren't you a little gem!" He was walking over to you, his red ears on his head bouncing slightly with each step he took. Closing your eyes now as he told you to do so, a sensation of something cold around your neck running through your body now. "Open up doll!" Opening your eyes and looking down, your eyes tear up. It was a necklace, that looked similar to one he gifted you on the first anniversary of your marriage. "Alastor.." Looking up at him, as a few tears escaped your eyes.

"Now now sweetheart, we don't want you crying hm? Smile dear! You know you're never fully dressed without one!" Giggling a little bit at that quote, he had used it so often when you two were alive. Not being able to help yourself, you throw your arms around his neck and pepper kisses all around his face and lastly a big kiss on his lips, you would be apologizing for suddenly kissing him later, but right now you just needed to kiss him. "I'm glad you love it dearest!" His arms are around your waist now as he laughs at the tickling kisses placed on his face, starting to spin you around as with a snip of his fingers music starts to play.

Charlie and Vaggie watch the soft moment from the door, tears streaming from the blonde's face as her girlfriend pulls her away to give you two some privacy.

[maraczeks]

newsroom rw thread pt 14

[astrologydayz]

NORTH NODE IN HOUSES - SYNASTRY💜

North Node in partners 1st house makes the house person find out who they really are in this lifetime, by the help of the North node person. North node person will help the first house person 2 come out of their shell and be who they truly are🫶☝. A good friendship placement but not that good for a relationship - North Node person is enamoured by the first house person but will probably leave after first house person has learned everything North Node wanted 2 teach them in this life. Unless u got prominent south node aspects = then u could stay together for a lifetime, cuz it's really comfortable and familiar - NN adds spice then😌😌.

North Node in partners 2nd house makes the house person want to be stable, earn money and focus on being secure with the help of the North Node person ofc🏡💰💸. North Node pushes the house person to be independent, and not be depending on anybody. They can create a good stable future, with good aspects. House person may first start 2 earn real money when North Node person comes in. North Node could also bring financial stability 2 house person.

North Node in partners 3rd house makes the conversations with each other insane🤯🤯🤯. House person feels like they found someone they can connect with on a mental level. North Node person can make house person question things like their mentality, how they communicate&speak, siblings, cars, neighbourhood, and stuff like that. House person may feel like North Node is the first person who actually understands them.

North Node in partners 4th house makes the house person feel like they finally found home😍😍, and can take a rest now that they found someone that they can count on. North Node may be the first "family" that the house person will have, North Node can also remind the house person of someone from their family. North Node will create that family space with, or for the house person🦋🦋🦋🦋.

North Node in partners 5th house makes the house person have the best time of their life!!! North Node can show house person how to have fun, and maybe have a whirlwind affair 👀❤️‍🔥. Kids could be involved but then you'll probably co parent at some point. After they experienced everything they can together, they 9/10 times get bored. But you'll remember it FOREVER!! it's something you look back on, and smile at, at an old age👵.

North Node in partners 6th house makes the North Node person create a stable, and safe routine for the house person. They can train a lot together, be super fit🏋️‍♀️🏋🤼 or North Node is here to help house person move on from something, and on to a stable routine. House person may have felt stuck, or in between jobs before they met North Node person. Their relationship could be all about working out, living together, work, &ordinary things like that ❤.

North Node in partners 7th house makes the house person feel like they found their soulmate 🥺🥺🥺, Someone they can really love, but also make business deals, and contracts with. North Node could be the first person the house person has a real relationship with 👫. House person feels very appreciated. This placement reminds me of the movie The Notebook🥺🥺, very loyal to each other 🤞💛.

North Node in partners 8th house makes the house person feel like they found their fucking therapist!! and ride or die. Bonnie and Clyde energy right here🔫🩸, got secrets for life. House person feels like the North Node person can read them like a book - they really don't need 2 explain themselves, or justify themselves. They just get each other. They can have crazy, and violent fights but they'll ride for each other till the day one of them dies. North Node can show all parts of their kind of underworld 2 house person, and they'll rise together when they come out❤️‍🔥.

North Node in partners 9th house is all about learning baby. 9th house feels like their "mentor"/teacher stepped in, when they met North Node person👽👽👽. North Node person feels like this "bigger than life" person 2 house person, and preaches a lot 2 house person about right, or wrong typically - wants 2 "guide" them. House person could either find that really nice, or really annoying❌❌. Religion is probably a big factor, could be same religion, and they're just really passionate about it together, or VERY different religions that can cause issues between them🌓🌓.

North Node in partners 10th house makes the house person feel like their social image probably went up, when North Node person came in🥂🥇. North Node could make the house person a star, or a nice trophy wife/husband. They can be big in the world of money, fame, business, and they look fire together. They earn a lot more together, than apart. A real power house. They'll be together 4 a long time typically, and they'll have each others back when everyone is watching🎬🎬.

North Node in partners 11th house makes the house person feel like they found a best friend 4 life💃💃💃. They share big dreams together, and probably humanitarian ones 2. They most of the time share the same friend group - or they could have met through friends❤️. Could also have met on social media tho📱📱. They could be out together a lot in public, and everyone knows about their friendship. North Node can take the house person to a new friend group! collaborations = big deal here🤌🤌.

North Node in partners 12th house could make the house person dream about North Node person, before North Node even came into the house persons life✨. House Person typically feels an unexplainable soul connection towards NN - they could already be united in 5D🪐🪐. House person can start/could have started their spiritual journey when North Node person comes/came in. Karmic is the term I would use here. Can be unstable, but they always come back together 🙅‍♀️🙅❤️‍🩹.

Always look at aspects from NN 2 house person's chart, & always look at both natal charts2 beforehand, 2know exactly how it'll play out!!!

REPOST OF A POST FROM MY OLD BLOG!

THANKS4READING BABE!!

Appreciate u , always💘

[winged-self-indulgence]

Why Do People Like Yanderes?

Hi everyone, my name is Diya, and this was going to be a YT video-essay-type-thing but I'm too poor to afford a mic and too busy with college to learn how to edit videos, so here's my vague exploration of the psychology behind why people like yanderes so much through the lens of my favourite Visual Novels.

TW for uh. yandere content. Mentions of sex, gore, and non-con, particularly in the last topic. This is more like the first draft of an academic paper so while it's not explicit, I do go into some detail.

Introduction

If you’re a fan of anime or visual novels, then you’re probably already aware of what a yandere is, or at the very least you’ve seen that one picture of Yuno Gasai. Still, for the sake of thoroughness, let’s take it from the tippy top. The term ‘yandere’ is a Japanese portmanteau of ‘yanderu’ – the progressive form of ‘yami’ – meaning ‘sick’, and ‘deredere’ which roughly translates to ‘loving’. Together, the word refers to someone who is – in short – extremely lovesick. Obsessive to the extreme, and with little morality to spare, the standard yandere is characterized by a dangerous fixation on a chosen target, often appearing shy and caring at first only to flip the script and become violently aggressive towards perceived threats (Kroon, 2010).

It should be noted that yanderes are not a strictly romantic or sexual trope. The Ancient Greeks classified at least six forms of love, from familial (storge) to guests (xenia). Modern psychologists may distinguish love as either Companionate or Passionate (Kim & Hatfield, 2004) or consisting of three dimensions of Intimacy, Passion, and Commitment (Sternberg & Sternberg, 2018). Realistically, possessiveness shows up in a variety of relationships. However, people are generally primed to view certain dynamics as inherently amorous. Societal norms tend to encourage the idea that romantic bonds ought to rank above all others, and therefore if Person A is bizarrely fixated on Person B, then clearly there must be an element of sexual interest involved regardless of the actual relationship between the individuals in question.

Regardless, yanderes remain quite popular in fiction. Many dismiss it as a fetish, which it can be, but that isn’t the case for everyone. While there is nothing wrong with indulging in kinky fiction, not all of us get horny at the thought of being chained up in someone’s basement, no matter how hot our captor may be. So why is it so pervasive? Why is this trope so appealing that most writers cannot help but include at least a single line of dialogue implying that – if circumstances had been ever so slightly different – my wholesome shoujo romcom might have turned into a psychological horror?

Hybristophilia

‘Hybristophilia’, also known as Bonnie and Clyde Syndrome after the titular criminal couple, is a word is derived from the Greek word ‘hybridzein’ meaning ‘to commit an outrage against someone’ and ‘philo’ which means ‘a strong preference for’. Sexologist John Money reportedly defined it as a paraphilia in which an individual is sexually aroused by a partner who has a predatory history of hurting other people (Money, 1986, as cited in Matuszak, 2017). In his book, Serial Killer Groupies, true crime and crime fiction author RJ Parker distinguished two forms of hybristophilia: passive and aggressive. The former is when an individual contacts a criminal with the intention of striking up a relationship with them, allowing themselves to be seduced and manipulated but having no interest in committing a crime themselves. The latter are far more dangerous, as the individual not only derives sexual pleasure from their partner’s atrocities but are active participants in carrying out or covering up the crime. To quote Griffiths (2013, as cited in Pettigrew, 2019):

“[They] help out their lovers with their criminal agenda by luring victims, hiding bodies, covering crimes, or even committing crimes. They are attracted to their lovers because of their violent actions and want to receive love yet are unable to understand that their lovers are psychopaths who are manipulating them.”

In some ways, hybristophilia is the nearest thing we have to a realistic understanding of why people love yanderes. I mean, much of the fantasy surrounding such characters and their media tend to be filled with posts begging to be spat on or calling the rightfully terrified main character ungrateful for being a teeny bit upset about finding surveillance cameras in their ceiling. However, enjoying fictitious immoral activity does not predict real perpetration, so what does? There exists little consensus amongst psychologists as to what sparks this particular predilection, and that was strange to me. You would think there would be more studies into this topic, in spite of or perhaps because of its controversial nature. Heck, that one dude wouldn’t shut up about white women’s obsession with Bundy and Dahmer, and I assumed he had gotten that information from somewhere, but it turns out that was just him using modifiers to justify sexism.

However, I believe that we can hedge a few guesses, and over the course of my research, I’ve organized the main rationalizations under four umbrellas which I will explore through the lens of my favourite yandere-themed Visual Novels. Please keep in mind that most of these games are rated as mature due to sexual scenes and/or gore. Additionally, in the spirit of transparency, this ramble will be focused exclusively on male or masculine yanderes. So, without further ado:

Call Me Bob the Builder Because I Can Fix Them

If you’re familiar with DC Comic’s Batman, or just happen to have attended any costume event held over the span of the last 20+ years, you may be familiar with the character of Dr. Harleen Quinzel, better known as Harley Quinn. Initially created as the Joker’s one-off sidekick in Batman The Animated Series, she was so well-received by audiences that she became a recurring character in the cartoon and was eventually given a proper origin story in the form of a one-shot titled Mad Love.

Harley’s origin story has seen some alterations over the past decades, but the core aspects remain largely untouched. In the beginning, Harleen Quinzel was a promising young woman who wanted was a degree from the university’s prestigious psychology department, which she gained through…less than scrupulous means.

(Listen, I’m not sure if the authors were leaning on the Dumb Blonde stereotype, or if they simply thought that casting her as a genuinely bad student would make her later actions more believable. Either way, the idea of Harley as someone with a legitimate PhD came later)

After landing an internship at Arkham Asylum – a half-hospital and half-prison straight out of the 1870s that might as well be built out of one-ply tissue-paper soaked with gasoline and left next to a crate of fireworks – Harleen set her sights on the then incarcerated Joker. At the start, her fixation on the criminal wasn’t remotely sympathetic. She didn’t want to help him, she wanted to use him. Harleen Quinzel wanted piggyback off his infamy and write a tell-all tale detailing what sort of messed up childhood resulted in Gotham’s Clown Prince of Crime. Yet the more she interacted with him, the more the Joker took advantage of her empathy. By the end of their sessions, Harley no longer saw him as a violent serial killer with a clown schtick, but as a “lost, injured child looking to make the world laugh at his antics.”

But Diya, you may be asking, what does this have to do with the video? The Joker never loved Harley, and it could even be argued – as Shehadeh did in a 2017 essay – that her obsession with the pasty-faced clown is more akin to Histrionic Personality Disorder. While that may be the case, I believe that Harley’s story provides one of the reasons yanderes are so popular: their backstory.

Whether they were abandoned by their family, bullied by their peers, experimented on by evil scientists, starved on the streets, died under mysterious circumstances and then trapped in a haunted VCR tape for decades, or are simply so impossibly inhuman that they frankly do not understand why it isn’t socially acceptable to imprison their crush in a pocket dimension made of meat and non-Euclidean geometry, yanderes often have fairly sympathetic or at least understandable explanations for why they are Like That. Your mileage may vary significantly depending on how much you sympathize with these motives, but the point is that yanderes always make sense to some degree. Their morality and priorities may be twisted or even completely incomprehensible, but the audience almost always knows the reason, and that can be comforting. In the real world, other people aren’t always straightforward, and we never really know what they’re thinking, but narrative coherence demands a semblance of internal consistency lest the audience end up frustrated and confused. So yanderes are not only easy to sympathize with, but also fairly predictable. In-universe they may be unhinged freaks with a blood fetish, but to you watching from behind the safety of the screen they’re just acting out the script written for them based on a prototype. And if you understand the why behind their loose gears, then you might just be able to put them back together again.

The concept of rescue romances or “I Can Fix Them” has been around in our stories for thousands of years. The Epic of Gilgamesh detailed how Shamhat essentially ‘civilized’ wild man Enkidu through ritual lovemaking, and a concerning number of religions push the idea that women are dutybound to save men from the follies of sin. Yet men are not exempt either, with one notable example being the German fairytale, King Thrushbeard. Call it what you will regardless: Knights in Shining Armour, the Florence Nightingale Effect, or a plain old case of Because You Were Nice to Me, studies have shown that human beings generally like helping [DA2] others, even when the reason doesn’t necessarily stem from pure altruism. I will delve deeper into this later, but care and compassion are deeply ingrained in human nature, and arising from those roots is the appeal of this mentality: You can save them. You can change them. You can make them better. You are special, and the way you treat this person carries a weight that has not and will never be matched by anyone else for the rest of their mortal or immortal existence.

The illusion is a delicious one, especially if the person you’ve helped turns out to be a billionaire CEO with cash to burn, a super powerful ghost king willing to raze continents to dust for you, a demon having fun on a Friday night, or just your average hot creep with a knife. Moreover, different people have different ideas of what ‘fixing’ even means. Maybe you want to single-handedly rehabilitate your yandere into a functional member of society. Maybe you’re cool with the incessant stalking but would like them to stop slaughtering your friends, family, and local service workers. Maybe you want to make them much, much worse.

Not only do yanderes provide immediate proof that your actions have a tangible impact on the lives of others, but the fantasy also includes the desire of being seen as special. Of being admired and adored by someone whose life you inexplicably made better by virtue of simply being yourself, or an idealized version of yourself. In this fictional world, in this imaginary setting, the person you are is so uniquely, impossibly irreplaceable to someone. And if that’s the case then they can’t risk losing you, can they?

The Allure of Obsession, or ‘Til Death Do Us Part (Literally)

It shouldn’t be necessary, but here is my obligatory disclaimer anyway. Ahem: obsession is not a good thing in real life. Fixating on another human to the detriment of your own wellbeing and that of those around you is dangerous, as is encouraging someone else to obsess over you. You might think you are being worshiped, but real life is not a visual novel. The outside world doesn’t come with an age rating, the author’s guiding pen, and a convenient fade to credits sequence once you’ve reached an ending. The consequences will still be there in the morning, so don’t do it. Just don’t.

PSA out of the way, it’s natural to want to be wanted. Maslow’s Hierarchy places it just above physical safety, but I’d argue that it could easily be compared to baser drives. According to many psychological and anthropological studies, much of humanity’s continued survival and environmental dominance is largely attributed to our ability to form groups, cooperate with one another, and maintain complex interpersonal networks. Social support, intimacy, and a sense of belonging are linked to emotional and physical benefits, such as more optimistic health perceptions, higher subjective well-being, increased creativity and innovation, and greater self-efficacy (DeWall & Bushman, 2011; Harandi et al., 2017; Wang & Sha, 2018). Therefore, it’s perfectly understandable that rejection of any sort would be construed as a threat.

But if someone is obsessed with you, then you have no reason to worry about that, right? No more nights spent agonizing over how they feel about you, asking yourself whether your last text made you sound too desperate, or if you’re boring them because you spent the past hour info-dumping about Stardew Valley farm layouts. With a yandere, there will never be any doubt that they care about you. Sure, they might go about it in weird, manipulative, and insidious ways that violate your physical and mental autonomy, but you can’t deny their loyalty. They do love you in their own bizarre way. You are the sun around which they orbit. When you’re in the room, no one else exists. Every single messy flaw is just another bullet point on the mile-long list of why they adore you.

In essence, yanderes are not only attentive, but their love can be virtually unconditional. A yandere might know everything about you, and still revere you. It’s unhealthy as hell and you might genuinely question their taste, but it can be tempting to pretend that all of you, right down to the ugliest parts of yourself – the traits and choices that you would never share with another living soul even at gunpoint – are worthy of understanding, if not open praise and affection.   

Attractiveness, or Okay but Have You Considered That They’re Hot Though?

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I mean what am I supposed to say here? They’re hot, what do you want from me?

No, but in all seriousness, fictional media paints an idealized version of the world, and most yanderes are hot because they have the freedom of existing purely behind that screen; artfully arranged and edited to forever appear compelling to anyone who happens to enjoy their particular style. And there are a lot of styles to choose from. Whether you want them pretty faced and disarmingly cute, or scarred up and big enough to pin you like a butterfly, yanderes come in a wide variety of shapes and sizes that are meant to pique your interest and draw you in like a naïve little fish being lured towards the mouth of an angler fish, unwilling to believe that anything bad might happen to us when the bait is this pretty.

This is often referred to as the Halo Effect, a form of cognitive bias referring to the tendency for people to assume that a single obvious positive trait must be associated with other positive traits. The go-to characteristic is typically physical attractiveness, but a nice voice, good humour, and cooking skills are also factors which serve to influence our perceptions.

So, conventional physical attractiveness is one thing, but that’s only skin deep. What about beyond that? After all, the yandere still has to talk to you before they enact their master plan of tying you up in their basement until Stockholm Syndrome kicks in.

When I showed my friend a picture of John Doe from the game John Doe, she told me that he looked like a creepy slob, and she’s far from the only person who’s ever thought so. Look at them. I feel like if I tried to comb that hair it would simply eat me, and some of the CGs really put the scopophobia in Scopophobia Studios. I love Doe, but he is not hot, and he doesn’t behave in a normally appealing way either. If the player chooses not to take a bath, Doe will immediately comment that you “smell good” before following you home, breaking into your house, and leaving a bloody organ on the floor for the player to trip over. Many yanderes can at least fake a veneer of normalcy, but from the get-go Doe doesn’t even bother to pretend he’s anything less than an otherworldly creature stuffed into a vaguely person-shaped meatsuit. In an effort to find out why so many people had latched on to Doe – including me – I shopped around social media and YouTube for answers, and what I found was a widely unanimous sentiment.

While some were drawn to his fun design and goofy personality, most simply thought that he wasn’t inherently malevolent, just very confused. In addition to being a supernatural being with a completely alien axis of morality, Doe’s meta-awareness and unbridled attempts at winning the player’s affection lends him quite a bit of support from the audience, especially if you yourself also happen to struggle with social cues and relate to his pure earnestness. In Ending 7 of the extended version, the player character has the option to tell Doe – who has altered himself to pass as more ‘normal’ – that they prefer who he truly is, at which point he grows visibly flustered and sports an adorable pair of literal heart-shaped pupils.

Whether they’re charismatic, seductive, cute, sweet, funny, nurturing, or generous, the best yanderes have engaging personalities. Even while they’re committing truly heinous crimes against God, man, and your guts, you still kinda want to hang out with them, and you want them to acknowledge you as being just as interesting. And this is all fine in fiction because you’re the one in charge, and if you ever get bored or uncomfortable or busy with something else, then you can simply close the tab or window with zero consequences, which brings us to the final and most important reason.     

Power Dynamics and Consent in Fantasy (I Couldn’t Think of a Joke Here Guys, This Is Kinda Serious)

Once again, I feel that I must preface this section just for the sake of my own peace of mind: sexual coercion and assault are vile and disgusting crimes that should never be emulated or tolerated in the real world. We are speaking purely of fictional media, specifically adult-oriented media in this case, so please be mindful.

In 2009, Bivoni and Critelli conducted a study on 355 undergraduate women with the goal of assessing the reasons behind fantasies of non-consent. At the time, there were two leading explanations of this phenomenon. One stated that women with high libidos but repressed views of sex used these imaginary scenarios to alleviate the guilt they had grown to associate with sex. Because the simulation was a purely mental exercise and they themselves were cast as helpless victims in the scenario, they were able to remain blameless while still finding sexual gratification. The second stated that these fantasies were an expression of liberation by women who were adventurous and comfortable enough with their own sexuality to engage with taboo ideas that they weren’t at all interested in performing in real life. Which do you think was more common?

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If you guessed the second option, you’d be right. The study found that of the 220 women who had experienced such fantasies, 45% found theirs erotic, 46% were mixed, and only 9% reported pure aversion. One justification for this outcome relies on psycho-biological theories, for example masochistic preferences or the unintended activation of the sympathetic nervous system and subsequent mis-attribution of arousal. Other reasons have to do with higher order thinking and are tied to the power dynamics within such fantasies. On the surface is the appeal of being so desirable to someone that they simply cannot control themselves, but then there is a deeper impulse, which the researchers referred to as Adversary Transformation. To quote the article: “[fantasies] involve a struggle between an assailant and a potential victim in which it is relevant to consider who is the winner and who is the loser. At one level, it is a struggle over sex, but the woman's non-consent may be feigned or token. At another level, the woman may be seeking a victory that is not about whether sex occurs, but about what happens emotionally between the protagonists.”

Basically, the imaginary perpetrator may have ‘won’, but the self-character need not have ‘lost’.

Media provides an extra layer to the illusion, one that you as the viewer have absolute control over. If you are choosing to engage with a piece of media that explicitly labels itself as including R18+ yandere content, then you clearly have some expectations, and that background awareness goes a long way in reducing long-term discomfort and allowing audiences to make informed decisions. If you don’t like the plot, you can simply turn it off it with the click of a button, and when the screen goes dark it’s not like the yandere is going to punish you for saying no. Strade isn’t going to break into your house with a drill, there are no homicidal clown ghosts hiding in your TV, and no suspicious pink-haired hackers watching your webcam. They aren’t real, and the consequences aren’t real either. You have all the power here.

Conclusion

In summary, Yanderes are appealing for a variety of reasons. Whether you want to save them, think they’re attractive, wish to indulge in a dream of being utterly coveted, or simply enjoy a bit of spice in your me-time, it’s obvious why the trope has persisted for so long and will likely continue to do so. If you enjoy yanderes but are worried that having a taste for the less wholesome side of things might imply something about who you are as a person, don’t be. The notion that fantasies and media preferences directly reflect subconscious desires is not only painfully out of date debunked nonsense but also indicative of restrictive ideologies wherein bad thoughts = sin. This isn’t 1984. You haven’t committed a thought-crime by having a weird kink. You aren't going to superhell for fantasizing. The human mind is hardly ever so mathematically rational, and the point of fiction is to allow us to safely engage with and explore various ideas, provided the everyone involved is mentally, chronologically, and emotionally mature enough to do so.

Thank you all for listening to me. If you learned something or were just a little bit entertained. If you're curious about knowing more, I've listed my sources below

REFERENCES

Bivona, J. M., & Critelli, J. W. (2009). The Nature of Women’s Rape Fantasies: An analysis of prevalence, frequency, and contents. Journal of Sex Research, 46(1), 33–45. https://doi.org/10.1080/00224490802624406

Critelli, J. W., & Bivona, J. M. (2008). Women’s Erotic Rape Fantasies: An Evaluation of Theory and research. Journal of Sex Research, 45(1), 57–70. https://doi.org/10.1080/00224490701808191

DeWall, C. N., & Bushman, B. J. (2011). Social acceptance and rejection. Current Directions in Psychological Science, 20(4), 256–260. https://doi.org/10.1177/0963721411417545

Flynn, F. J., Reagans, R., Amanatullah, E. T., & Ames, D. R. (2006). Helping one’s way to the top: Self-monitors achieve status by helping others and knowing who helps whom. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 91(6), 1123–1137. https://doi.org/10.1037/0022-3514.91.6.1123

Harandi, T. F., Taghinasab, M. M., & Nayeri, T. D. (2017). The correlation of social support with mental health: A meta-analysis. Electronic Physician, 9(9), 5212–5222. https://doi.org/10.19082/5212

Hazen, H. (1983). Endless rapture: rape, romance, and the female imagination. https://openlibrary.org/books/OL3161300M/Endless_rapture

Kroon, R. W. (2010). A/V A to z: An Encyclopedic Dictionary of Media, Entertainment and Other Audiovisual Terms. McFarland.

Matuszak, M. (2017). Hybristophilia White Paper. https://static1.squarespace.com/static/55dfd21ee4b0718764fb34cc/t/5cb7cabee5e5f00ab13be58b/1555548863275/Hybristophilia+White+Paper.pdf

Oarga, C., Stavrova, O., & Fetchenhauer, D. (2015). When and why is helping others good for well-being? The role of belief in reciprocity and conformity to society’s expectations. European Journal of Social Psychology, 45(2), 242–254. https://doi.org/10.1002/ejsp.2092

Parker, R. (2014). Serial killer groupies. RJ PARKER PUBLISHING, INC.

Wang, T., & Sha, H. (2018). The influence of social rejection on cognitive control. Psychology, 09(7), 1707–1719. https://doi.org/10.4236/psych.2018.97101

[astrosouldivinity]

Venus Sign Observations: 💞🖤💞

Fixed Venus Edition: ⚔️

Taurus Venus: 🍃

🍃 Venus in Taurus are devoted in their relationships. They value commitment, comfort, loyalty, and peace. They strive to build relationships built on a deep connection to the physical and sensual aspects of life.

🍃 The influence of Venus in Taurus is romantic in nature, as Taurus is ruled by the planet Venus, representing love, beauty, romance, values, pleasure, and luxury. This connection creates natural ease in expressing love and affection towards others which individuals with Venus in Taurus provide effortlessly.

🍃 Taurus Venus often values financial stability in a partner and appreciates someone who is willing to provide for them. They seek a relationship in which both partners can grow together. Their approach to love can be equated to planting a seed and nurturing its growth until it blossoms into a beautiful flower.

🍃 Taurus Venus prioritizes stability and dependability in their relationships. They are attracted to partners who are also the same way. However, their unwavering nature can sometimes manifest as stubbornness and possessiveness. They do not want to share their partner whatsoever.

🍃 Venus in Taurus tends to adopt a more traditional approach in their intimate relationships. While their openness to different relationship dynamics can be influenced by other astrological placements, they generally prioritize loyalty and commitment to a single partner.

Leo Venus: 💋

💋 Venus in Leo are known for their unwavering loyalty and passionate approach to love. Their love style exudes a sense of fierce devotion, often reminiscent of the legendary loyalty of Bonnie and Clyde.

💋 The love of those with Venus in Leo radiates like the sun, providing warmth and illumination. Their affection serves as a guiding light, offering others a path out of the darkness.

💋 Venus in Leo needs to be careful with who gets access to their light. Like moths to a flame, they can attract extremely dark entities. Essentially, people who only seek to drain them, and are not deserving of their love.

💋 Venus in Leo places a high value on creativity and self-expression within their relationships. They are drawn to partners who share a passion for the arts and creative pursuits.

💋 They seek a partner whom they can proudly showcase, someone who radiates as brightly as they do. They embody a playful, joyful approach to love.

Scorpio Venus: 🥀

🥀 Venus in Scorpio are known for their fiercely protective and unwaveringly loyal nature in love. They wholeheartedly commit to supporting and protecting their partners, often going to great lengths to do so.

🥀 Scorpio Venus approaches love and relationships with a depth, passion, and emotional intensity. They are attracted to partners who they can have a deep meaningful bond with.

🥀 Scorpio Venus highly values emotional intimacy in their relationships. They are often drawn to partners who can match their intensity and fearlessly explore the complexities of the human psyche.

🥀 They are attracted to the mysterious and desire a partner that is just as complex and intriguing as they are. Shallow or superficial connections are unlikely to satisfy their emotional needs.

🥀 Trust holds great significance for Venus in Scorpio. They place a high value on honesty and transparency in their intimate relationships, requiring assurance that they can trust their partner and that their trust will not be betrayed.

🥀 They tend to be possessive of their partners, desiring exclusivity in their relationships. They are prone to feelings of jealousy when they perceive potential outside threats to their relationship. They may consider alternative relationship dynamics, but trust has to be established first.

Aquarius Venus:

🫧 Aquarius Venus can come across as emotionally detached and aloof in their intimate relationships. They are selective about who they open up to, requiring time and trust to feel comfortable enough to share their innermost feelings.

🫧 This Venus placement tends to appreciate the "friends to lovers" dynamic in their intimate relationships. If they do not like you as a friend, it can be difficult to get them to want to commit. They highly value friendship and seek a partner who feels like their best friend.

🫧 Aqua Venus are not usually bound by traditional relationship norms. They are open to diverse dating styles and may not feel compelled to adhere strictly to monogamy. However, this does not imply an inability to commit; rather, they are capable of committing when they find the right person.

🫧 Aquarius Venus highly values their independence outside of their relationships. They seek partners who can respect their need for freedom and personal space. They are often drawn to individuals with their own passions and pursuits and appreciate partners who allow them to maintain their individuality within the relationship.

🫧 Aqua Venus highly values mental stimulation in their relationships and enjoys engaging in deep, philosophical conversations. They are attracted to intelligence and are drawn to individuals who possess unique intellectual perspectives. 

🫧 They want a partner who shares their free-spirited nature, and humanitarian values. 

AstroSoulDivinity on TikTok

[tarotwithlove]

PICK A CARD ⭒ how are you glowing up?

reminder that this is a general reading and messages found here may not apply to everyone. take what resonates, leave what doesn't, and don't force anything if it does not fit.

BOOK A READING WITH ME · LINKTREE · 18+ PATREON · SUGGEST A PAC TOPIC · TIPS ♡ tips, bookings, and feedback are highly appreciated!

GROUP ONE

cards · knight of wands, knight of pentacles, eight of wands, king of pentacles, five of cups, spellcasting oracle: passion, trust, boundaries

channelled songs · spaghettii by beyoncé, linda martell, shaboozey. cold killer by hui & jinhyuk. try a little tenderness by otis redding. bonnie & clyde by terrell.

hey there group one ♡ your glow up is all about physical movement and the way that you move your body. as such, you may be a dancer, ice skater, or gymnast; one who is improving in your level of physical skill and ability.

this glow up comes with you being seen as more of a professional or expert in your field, and will both lead to and come about of you winning competitions and/or meets. it will also lead to your partner (dance partner, ice skating partner, etc), coach, or manager trusting you with harder routines or more difficult stunts. and to them trusting you to compete in competitions with stricter judging -- or other things along these lines.

but this trust is only a trust you are feeling in yourself. you are glowing up because you are putting more trust and more faith in yourself and in those who guide you, lead you, teach you, and even those who judge and compete against you. you are more assured of yourself and your abilities, which means you are pushing yourself harder -- and which will lead to you reaping rewards upon rewards, and only glowing up more and more. like an endless cycle of glowing up in your field.

GROUP TWO

cards · ace of swords, ten of pentacles, nine of pentacles, knight of pentacles, king of cups, spellcasting oracle: truth, closure, career

channelled songs · call me baby by exo. when the chips are down by andré de shields. neverletyougo by role model. dance with me by 112.

hey there group two ♡ at the moment, you may be feeling very lonely. you may spend a lot of time alone, because you do not have friends or because you do not have any friends *anymore*. but, you are soon going to be glowing up in your social life. you are going to be gaining new friends. you are going to be gaining a new community. you are going to be gaining all these people around you who are going to be supporting you and who are going to be there for you -- wholly and entirely.

someone in this new social circle may help you with a job, which may even be your dream job. someone else in this circle may be your future partner or may even be a future spouse. but all these relationships and connections branching out of this new friend group, new community, are not what’s important. what is important is that you will no longer be alone.

so just enjoy your new friends. enjoy your community. enjoy being loved and uplifted and supported and getting to do all those things with these friends that you have always wanted to do.

GROUP THREE

cards · justice, temperance, three of pentacles, six of swords, page of pentacles, spellcasting oracle: peace, passion, reconciliation

channelled songs · st jude by florence + the machine. bamboleo by red velvet. furious by ja rule. you and i in unison by la dispute.

hey there group three ♡ you are glowing up spiritually and in your intuition. you are trusting god (the divine, the universe, your ancestors, your guides, whoever is your higher power) more. much, much more.

trusting god so much that you are letting go of control and, for once in your life, truly going with the flow.

it is as if you are starting over from the ground up and fully putting your trust and faith in something higher and greater than you. which may even be your higher or future self. and, thus, creating a stronger connection with said higher power.

this may not feel like anything major to you but trust me when i say that it is. tune in now, notice that feeling of peace. of serenity. of calmness. embrace it and rejoice in it.

GROUP FOUR

cards · four of wands, four of cups, wheel of fortune, temperance, eight of swords, spellcasting oracle: happiness, friendship, home

channelled songs · your letter by 112. cover up by taeyeon. have it all by jason mraz. sober mind by monaleo.

hey there group four ♡ you are growing into your own, wholly and completely. you may be getting your own place soon, with friends or with someone you are very close to, like a lover, sibling, or cousin. or you may find a roommate that you will become good friends with. or you may be moving into a better place.

with this glow up, there is this energy of a weight being lifted off your shoulders. especially that you have your own place to call home. you will find yourself feeling free -- freer than you have ever felt in your life, and like you can finally be yourself without worry or concern. you are no longer having to hide yourself or your truth, or worry about people keeping tabs on you and looking too deeply into every decision that you make.

for some of you, this is because you are escaping an abusive or oppressive household. but even if not, having your own place is just something that will make you feel like a brand new person. like the person you have been waiting to become.

you can finally live life according to your own standards, instead of to somebody else’s rules! and i am so, so excited for you!

[lovelytsunoda]

the day you kissed a writer in the dark // han lue (tokyo drift)

summary: she's stood by his side for years. his loyal mechanic, the brains behind his brawn. but she'd be lying if she said that it didn't hurt to watch him flirt with those other women in his club, when he came home to her every night in secret.

bet you rue the day you kissed a writer in the dark, now she's gonna play and sing and lock you in her heart. i am my mother's child, i'll love you 'till my breathing stops.

pairing: han lue x mechanic! reader

warnings: smut, inappropriate use of a drifting car, insecurity and self-doubt, secret relationships, unplanned pregnancy.

author's note: here's something a little different today, lovelies! it's a departure from the usual realm of f1 content i usually bless you all with, but i felt like i needed to do something different to avoid burning myself out, and rewatching tokyo drift gave me the inspiration that i needed :)

she hated the club.

in the back end of her mind, she always resented the mere existence of that secret room leading to han's garage. the fact that he chose to surround himself with women in tight dresses with long legs and perky boobs like he was some kind of yakuza punk.

well, this wasn't crows fucking zero. this was real life.

she couldn't help but draw comparisons between these beautiful girls and herself. as she curled in on herself to duck through the crowd, she frowned at her reflection in the window: her torn up jeans, the grease stain on the cuff of her army-green sweater, the zip barely done up enough to cover up her double-d's, a small nut from her very first car hanging limply from a chain around her neck.

some days, she wondered why han had chosen her of all people.

"sean?" she asked quietly, poking the young american boy in the arm, practically shouting to be heard. "have you seen han?"

sean shook his head. "no, sorry. have you checked the garage?"

"i'm heading back there now. thanks, sean." she sighed, backing out the way that she came, trying not to think about all of the places that her boyfriend could be right now.

the anxiety ate away at her. was he with one of the other girls? one of the prettier, taller, thinner ones? was that why he wanted to keep the relationship under wraps?

was han ashamed of her?

she hurried down the rickety metal staircase, dropping her purse on the workbench as she went, subconsciously placing a hand over her stomach as she thought about the white plastic stick inside the fake leather bag.

they'd been sneaking around for a year, but they'd known each other far longer. she had come to tokyo when she was twenty-one, with a pocketful of cash and a monkey wrench. she had a high school diploma, but that didn't mean much to the rally teams she had applied to work on the pit crews for.

and that's when han swooped her up. when she became the bonnie to his clyde, the mechanic for his little street racing gambit.

that was three years ago. now she was almost twenty-five, he was twenty-seven, and he was in far too deep for them to keep going like this.

she knew why he had to keep it a secret. telling the world that she was his lover would put a target on her back. because that's what happens when you get in deep with someone like dk.

she pulled her hair back with the green rubber band on her wrist, pushing up her sleeves as she reached for a ratchet and approached han's car, the hood already open and ready for her.

working on the cars had always been her safe haven. her distraction from the outside world. fixing something that was broken gave her a satisfaction like no other.

"babe?" han's voice echoed through the garage, and she hated herself for the way that she froze up, fingers tightening around the ratchet. "sean said you were asking around for me? is everything okay?"

she withdrew from the car, slamming the hood down. "you're pushing the car too far. the engine is wearing down, you have to get something stronger. the serpentine belt is at it's brink."

"and that's why you're the brains of this operation and i'm just the pretty boy who drifts." han said playfully, wrapping his arms around her midsection as resting his chin on her shoulder.

"be more careful out there, seoul-oh." she said softly, placing a cold hand on top of his warm one before turning her head and kissing him softly. "i don't know what i'd do if anything ever happened to you."

han spun her body around gently, his hands on her waist as she jumped to perch her body on the edge of the hood, her fingers tangling in his dark, silky hair.

"you don't need to worry about me, sweetheart. i'm going to be okay."

she sighed, lacing her fingers together behind his neck. "where were you, han? wandering around your club with a girl on each arm? a girl that's three times prettier than i am, maybe one who's clothes are a little more revealing-"

"y/n, stop." han said firmly. "baby, you're the only one. my only one." he kissed her on the forehead softly. "i love you. i love you so much that it hurts. i wish i could shout it from the rooftops, but i can't put you in danger like that. i don't want dk to know, because that's a target on your back that i don't want there."

he pulled her as close as he could, arms wrapped securely around her as he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. "i couldn't live with myself if anything ever happened to you."

the sincerity in the older man's voice was reassuring. but some days, it wasn't enough. she loved him more than words could say, but she was getting tired of being his little secret.

but at the end of the day, it was her bed that he always came home to. his arms she woke up in. his terrible singing in the kitchen while he made coffee with breakfast.

han lue was hers.

she kissed him again, still sitting on the edge of the toyota's hood. this kiss was stronger, harder. with more feeling as she bunched han's sweater up in her fingers, trying to wrestle it off his broad shoulders, his hands gripping her thighs tight enough to make her moan against his lips.

"seoul-oh." she mumbled as han broke away from her, pulling his sweater off the rest of the way before tugging his everlast t-shirt over his head.

they fit together like well-worn puzzle pieces, his lips finding that place on her neck that made her crumble, turned her legs to jelly as he slipped a hand up the front of her sweater, thumb tracing comforting shapes against her stomach as he nipped at her neck, biting down gently. there would be a hickey there in a mere matter of hours.

trailing kisses back up her neck, he gently bit her earlobe before placing one hand on the side of her face to guide her lips back to his, the other hand braced against the hood of the car to hold himself up. she bit down on his bottom lip, wrenching a growl from the back of han's throat.

he pulled away, dropping to his knees in front of the car as his large hands dipped under the waistband of her jeans. after reaching down to untie and kick off her beat up vans, she reached above her to grab the exposed beam in the garage ceiling, pulling her body up and allowing han to pull her jeans and panties down her legs in one fell swoop.

"oh, not on the car, baby. you'll stain the bodywork."

"don't care." han hummed, kissing the soft skin of her thigh. "i can't think of anything prettier than you. on the hood of my car, legs spread wide for me." he mumbled in between kisses, inching ever closer to where y/n needed him most, her arousal dripping onto the cool metal hood of the drift car.

and when his lips touched her throbbing clit, she could have sworn she turned electric, using one hand to brace herself against the car and burying the other in han's hair as she threw her head back in a throaty moan.

"han." she panted, grinding against his face as his tongue licked and sucked at her core. "oh, baby, yes."

han smiled to himself, kissing her clit gently as he held her thighs open with his hands. "still think that i don't find you attractive any more?"

"shut up, please. i need you so bad." she'd barely finished speaking when another low, seductive moan left her mouth. the arm that was holding her body up threatened to buckle underneath her as she tugged on han's hair, urging him to keep going.

han chuckled, the vibrations sending shockwaves through her body as her arm buckled, and she found herself lying against the hood, her head on the windscreen as she bucked her hips, searching for more as her lover tongue-fucked her, her legs thrown over his shoulders with reckless abandon.

"seoul-oh." she whined, clenching her thighs around han's head

"i know, baby." he mumbled softly, kissing her thigh. "you're doing so well darling. come for me."

and that's exactly what she did. with a moan so loud that she was shocked that the patrons of the club couldn't hear it echoing through the garage, she let go, her juices coating the lower half of han's face as he licked her clean before wiping off the bottom half of his face with the back of his hand.

"fuck." he mumbled, standing between her legs and leaning over the car to kiss her. "i can't get enough of you, baby. i think i'm gonna need more."

"oh yeah?" she smiled sitting up slightly, resting her weight on her elbows and raising an eyebrow when she saw the obvious hard-on struggling to break free from the confines of han lue's jeans. "and what do you think we should do about it?"

"back. room. now." he said, softly but firmly, kissing her in between each word as she wrapped her bare legs around his body, allowing han to pick her up and carry her over to the back room, where a double bed was piled high with blankets for the nights where they worked late, or drift races lasted until the mere hours of the morning.

or, nights where neither of them wanted to go home. han was sure that they had fucked on almost every available surface of the garage.

she undid her sweater slowly, revealing the lacy white bra underneath, the makeshift pendant on her necklace hanging delicately just above the hollow of her breasts as she cast the fabric aside, reaching up to snap the elastic band in her hair, letting it cascade in waves down her shoulders.

"you're beautiful, you know that?" he said softly, kneeling on the mattress as he rested one hand gently against her cheek.

she leaned into his touch, reaching up to wrap her slender fingers around his wrist, pressing a soft kiss to the heel of his hand.

she knew she should tell him. han needed to know.

but now was definitely not the time.

not that she could find the words while he kissed her neck, her chest, her stomach, his fingers dancing across her back as he fumbled with the clasp of her bra, erection straining against his jeans.

"han, babe." she mumbled, reaching behind her. "it's been a year now, you should know how to undo a bra, mr. womanizer." she joked, pushing his hands away as she pulled the bra off by herself.

"why would i need to know how to do it when you just take it off by yourself most of the time?" he grinned, standing up to unbuckle his belt.

he started to undo his jeans, pausing halfway as if he had forgotten something before he darted over to the rolling toolbox in the back of the room, pulling a small foil packet out of the top drawer.

fat lot of good a condom would do them now.

not when she was already carrying his baby inside of her.

her body trembled with anticipation as she watched han rid himself of his jeans, the echo of his belt buckle hitting the floor echoing around the room before he rolled the latex sheath onto his thick, hard cock.

god, she was a fool in love. han seoul-oh made her feel every range of emotions all at once.

"seoul-oh." she mumbled, lips against his as he clambered onto the bed, covering her body with his broad one.

"hm?" han mumbled, pressing kisses all over her face.

"i love you, han lue." she said firmly, gently pushing his face away so she could look him in the eyes. "i mean it, babe. you've ruined me for anybody else. you're it for me."

"good, because i don't think i could love anybody else if i tried." han breathed out, kissing her again, the tip of his cock teasing her entrance.

she squirmed under him, a small gasp escaping her lips before she bit down on her bottom lip.

she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of hearing her beg. that wasn't what tonight was for.

han knew this as well, gently pushing himself inside her. tonight was about more than just chasing a high. for both of them. it was about love, and reassurance, and intimacy.

she threaded her fingers through his hair, whining as han moved ever so slightly, the sensations they both felt sending shockwaves through their bodies.

"seoul-oh." she moaned softly. "please. god, you feel incredible."

"yeah?" han crooned, thrusting softly and barely holding back a moan of his own. "you look so pretty with my cock inside you, my sweet sweet girl."

"just like that." she whined as he thrusted again, bucking her hips into him, trying to take his length deeper. "keep doing that, fuck."

when han's nimble fingers came up grip and massage her right breast, she knew she was a goner, arching her back to drive her body into him with a moan as he kissed her chest.

"you like that, baby? yeah, you love having my hands all over you. and i love touching your beautiful body." han murmured, sucking a hickey onto her collarbone. he could feel himself unravelling, knew that the end was nigh as he moaned against her skin, blindly reaching for her hand.

there were no more slow thrusts as the driver began to pick up the pace, his lover's legs wrapped tightly around him as she moaned his name.

"oh god, han, baby. fuck, keep going." she panted, one hand trailing down her body to play with her clit. anything to get her closer to that release she craved as she whined and squirmed under han's touch.

she'd seen this film before, and she already knew the ending. and the start if the sequel.

"come for me, baby. i know you can take it, just give me one more, okay?"

"han, han, holy shit." she moaned, feeling the coil in her stomach finally snap, her high crashing over her like a wave.

her lover groaned above her, a guttural sound ripped straight from his throat before han gently pulled out of her sensitive body, the evidence of his own peak contained within the clear latex that he slid off his member, tying the condom off in a knot before punting it into the trash can next to his desk.

she pulled the blankets up as han settled in the bed next to her, his warm fingers dancing in gentle circles against her sweaty skin as they laid together in the afterglow, a content look on his face as he kissed her on the forehead.

"seoul-oh." she said quietly, twirling his long, dark locks of hair around her fingertip. "i have to tell you something."

"what's on your mind, pretty girl?" worry creased han seoul-oh's face, a pit forming in his stomach.

he hated seeing her like this.

"i'm pregnant."

han's eyes widened. "what? babe, why didn't you tell me?"

"i've been trying all day. but you've had your hands full with dk and sean and drifting." she said sadly. "but i can't raise this baby with dk breathing down our necks. you need to get out of this life, seoul-oh."

han frowned thoughtfully, one hand resting against the side of her face. "i'm going to be a father. fucking hell, babe this is incredible. i promise you, i'm going to make a plan, and i'm going to get us out of tokyo."

"you know we can't keep this a secret any longer, right? i'm already eight weeks along, once the first trimester ends, i won't be able to hide it."

"you're right, you're right. we'll test the waters. i'll tell sean and twinkie in the morning, see how the news of our relationship goes over with them. i want to keep it from dk until i can find a way to get us out of here."

y/n nodded, lacing her fingers with han's and placing his hand on her stomach. "okay. let's do this thing." she broke out into a smile. "we're going to be parents, han. can't you picture it? sitting behind the wheel of your toyota, with our little gremlin on your lap, teaching them how to drive before they can even walk."

han laughed. "they'll be born with a monkey wrench in one hand and a bag of lays in the other."

"i love you, seoul-oh." she said softly, kissing him gently. "i'm so glad i found you three years ago.

"i love you more, y/n. and i can't wait to raise this kid with you."

Tags (though im not sure if any of you are interested loll):

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @sidcrosbyspuck @scuderiamh

[fairyysoup]

western nights

♫︎ western nights - ethel cain ♫︎

pairing(s): eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: You're on a road trip to nowhere. Eddie wants to get the hell out of dodge. It's a match made in heaven- if only it were, actually, heaven.

words: 13k

cw: explicit, smut, piv sex, oral sex (f + m receiving), exhibitionism, light choking, spitting, eddie is 24, reader's age unspecified (over 21), illegal activities, theft, smoking, alcohol consumption, strangers to lovers, bonnie & clyde type dynamic, mechanic!eddie, eddie's trying hard to be a good boy he's just got issues, pining, perv!reader, some slight dubcon/somno for a sec if you squint, there was only one bed, graphic depictions of violence, a drunk guy being nasty to both eddie and reader, bar fight, blood, arguments, angst, hurt/comfort, panic attacks, an overall janky relationship here, inspired by the song western nights by ethel cain

a/n: *slaps fic* this bad boy can be written with so many cold medicines in my head &lt;3 ethel cain if you see this do NOT interact i have done zero justice to your song and also completely disregarded some key aspects of the themes of it lol this is loosely based at best

ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

He’s never looked more beautiful on his Harley in the parking lot, breaking into the ATMs, sleeping naked when it gets too hot…

You’ve become something of a connoisseur of gas station coffee. 

You know which chains have the best. Love’s always has the best and freshest, with the most options of flavors. Pilot is usually a crapshoot, depending on what area of the country you’re in. Occasionally, if you can find it, Bodega doesn’t disappoint. And the worst, by far, is always Shell. Shell coffee, you think, must come directly from the sewers of whatever backwater town you’re trundling through.

You’re somewhere in Indiana, you guess, judging by the state-shaped keychains on the rotating rack next to the cash register. You grab a state map from a magazine stand and toss it in with the rest of your purchase. You were lucky to have found a Love’s so you could finally afford yourself some proper dark roast coffee; all the watered down arabica stuff you’ve been getting since Cleveland has only been making your head ache. 

“What’s the quickest way to Indianapolis?” You ask the dead-eyed attendant ringing you up, a 20-something year old guy with bags under his eyes and bad skin. 

He chews his licorice like a camel chews straw, staring up at you blankly. “I dunno. Never been.”

You look from him, to the map, and back. “Cool. What town is this?”

“Hawkins.” His bored-by-you attitude is overwhelming.

“Thanks so much for the help.” You afford the attendant a tight smile as you grab your bag of snacks and head out. It’s going to be a long night. 

The air outside is stifling, summer heat hanging in the muggy air like a fog. The humidity makes your hair stick uncomfortably to the back of your neck as you peel off your old green hunting jacket and tie it around your waist. You’ve parked your van under the fluorescent-lit gas pump overhang, providing the proper lighting for you to spread the map of Indiana across the hood and bend over it, using your full coffee as a paperweight. You rip open the singular Slim-Jim you could afford for dinner, and pore over it.

There’s commotion across the parking lot, which stirs you from your rumination over the map. You glance up; there are two guys loitering by a telephone booth in one corner of the lot, sharing a cigarette. Teenagers who have nowhere else to be on a Friday night, you suppose. Five yards away from them, a third crouches in front of a badly vandalized ATM, the cause of the commotion. He seems to be hacking at the wiring with a pocket knife.

You ignore it. So far, on this trip, you’ve seen far worse than a guy stealing petty cash from a gas station ATM. Tracing your fingers across the paper, it looks like if you take state route 13 to I-69, you’ll be in Indianapolis by midnight. Shouldn’t be too difficult, as long as you can find the 13, and then you can find a place to crash in the city.

Grabbing an old highlighter from your pocket, you mark your route in bright pink. The guy from the ATM seems to have gotten what he wanted, moving quickly across the parking lot with his head held high, like he has every right to be there. He approaches a motorcycle parked on the opposite side of the pump from you, and begins feeding dollar bills into the machine. 

“Hey, do you know how to get to the 13 from here?” You can’t see much more than his leather-clad shoulder and hip jutting out from around the pump, the front tire of his Harley sticking out from behind his leg.

There’s a pause, and then his head pops out from around the pump. A curtain of unruly dark hair frames a long neck, big doe-like eyes and flushed lips pouting at you in confusion. It makes you freeze. “Sorry?”

“I, uh-” What were you trying to do? Get on the right course. Right. Of course. “State- uh- state route 13? I’m trying to get to, um, Indianapolis?” You cringe at your own stuttering, nails digging into the paper before you. 

The man stares at you for a long time, dark eyes framed by thick, curling lashes sizing you up slowly. Then, he rounds the pump. “The highway’s just down the road- keep going west and you won’t miss it.” 

“Great, thanks.” You grab up your coffee and the map, crunching it between your tense fingers. He hasn’t moved, still leaning against the gas pump, arms crossed, staring at you. It makes you nervous, in more ways than one. 

“You won’t get far in that heap, though.”

You pause. Your knees threaten to wobble under you as you look up at him. Your hand is on the door, you could simply ignore him and get in, but something in his gaze makes you stop. Is that… genuine concern? Or is he just putting on a show for you? 

“What do you mean?” The heat of the coffee burns through the paper cup and torches your fingers.

“Well, your fender’s bashed in and, I dunno if you noticed, but you have a crack in your windshield,” he gestures at the long crack running horizontally across the glass, just above where your line of sight usually is. “Probably got a lot more shit wrong with it, too, I could hear you coming a mile up the road. Junkyard find?”

“Something like that.” More like, sat in your parents’ garage for so long that you took a chance on the fucked up radiator and bailed. “She’s good, though. She’ll get me another 80 miles, easy.”

“Are you only going 80 miles?” The guy questions, “Or are you going way past that and only doing the 80 miles tonight?”

If he wasn’t so pretty, with a note of flirtation in his voice, you’d be hesitant as hell to tell him. “The second one.” 

ATM guy sucks on his teeth, rocking back on heels that creak with the movement. Rubber soled work boots flash at you from beneath torn blue denim. “Dunno if I should let you go alone, then. You might bust your carburetor halfway there and be stranded.”

That puts alarm sirens in your head. You’d back away if your car wasn’t situated between the two of you. “Thanks, but, uh… I think I can handle myself.”

The teasing smile drops off his face quickly, replaced by a look of subtle desperation. “No, don’t get me wrong, I’m not- I’m not saying you can’t handle yourself. Obviously. Or you wouldn’t be trucking along by yourself through Nowheresville, Indiana,” he chuckles. “I just, ah… let me level with you?”

Your face screws up, but you lean your hip against the fender nearest you- the one that isn’t fucked up. What is it with this guy?

“I’m trying to jump ship. Anywhere’s better than here, but I really want to get to the west coast. I don’t know where you’re headed, but I’ve got my sights on San Francisco. And, uh, I have experience fixing cars, working in a garage,” he confesses. “But I don’t have a ride of my own- this isn’t even my bike, really. So, if you’re heading to the city, and you could use someone to make sure your car doesn’t kick it going over 75, I’m your man. Besides,” he bats his pretty lashes at you, his fingers fiddling with the end of his long hair as he brandishes a wad of ATM-stolen cash, “I have gas money.”

“You want to hitch a ride with me?”

“If you’re okay with it. Otherwise, I bid you fair and safe travels.” He bows dramatically, throwing his hand in the direction of the highway you’d asked about. “But if you ask me, I think you’d be doing both of us a favor in the long run if you let me come with. Just for insurance, y’know.”

“Insurance?” You parrot incredulously.

“Yeah,” he grins. He has dimples, a wide smile that stretches across his face and makes him even prettier than you can stand to look at directly. “Just insurance. No other reason.”

“Mhm,” you grunt, going over the positives and negatives in your head. 

Positives- your car is a piece of shit and you’re sure he’s right, you’re working on borrowed time and you’re less than halfway to your desired destination. Plus, he’s unfairly nice to look at. 

Negatives- you don’t know shit for fuck about him, other than the fact that he’s apparently trying to leave town and makes a hobby of breaking into ATMs. And, hell, even Ted Bundy was supposed to be charming and cute, at first. This guy could be a crazy ax murderer, could be a rapist, could be a junkie who’ll steal your car and leave you stranded, could be, could be-

“MUNSON!”

“Fuck.” ATM guy glances over his shoulder, then ducks quickly around the side of the gas pump as the station attendant comes storming out of the store. He crouches, pressing his hands to the glass window of the passenger’s side and peers through the cab at you on the other side with pleading eyes. “Can you get me a couple miles down the road, at least?” 

“What about your bike?” 

“Not my bike,” he tells you for a second time. “My buddy’ll pick it up when he hears about this, please.”  

The station attendant is making his way across the parking lot now, looking miffed. It’s clearly the most energy he’s put into anything today, but he isn’t moving very fast. 

You’ve made worse decisions in your life. You sigh. “Shit. Get in.” 

“Thank you, thank you.” He pops open the passengers door as you slide into the driver’s seat, tossing the crumpled up map in the back. You guess you’ve found a GPS, for the time being.

“Does my insurance have a name?” you ask as you peel out of the gas station. The attendant hovers by the pump you’d been occupying, looking lamely at the abandoned motorcycle in your rearview. 

“Eddie,” ATM guy says. A ring-clad hand lifts between you, hovering over the gear shift and waiting for your own to settle into it for a shake, “Eddie Munson.” 

You eye his outstretched hand, your stomach doing flips, but you’re unsure if it’s because of him or the very situation he’s just put you in. You lift your hand and bat his with your knuckles, a half-hearted acknowledgement without the formality. “Pleasure doing business with you, Eddie.” 

Eddie coughs, shifting up in his seat to peer behind you at the station. “Fuckin’ Keith. You can just drop me off at the next exit, it’s no biggie.” 

“Hm? I thought you were coming with me to Indianapolis, hot stuff.” 

Eddie whips his head around to look at you. “Seriously? You don’t- you don’t have to, I know it’s a big ask-” 

“You want me to change my mind?”

“Not particularly.” He sinks down in his seat again. “Guess I figured you think I’m more of a liability than anything.”

“I do, but I need all that cash you swiped from the ATM,” you hum with a snarky grin on your face. 

Eddie chuckles, wringing his hands in his lap. His knuckles tighten and relax beneath heavy steel rings. “Yeah, better I do it than you, huh?” There’s an awkward pause, and then he blurts, “Do you have any road music in this thing?” 

You reach forward and hit the volume button for the stereo. You’d been halfway through Danzig’s self titled album- Mother kicks in with the chorus. In the darkness, you don’t see the way Eddie’s eyes sparkle with adoration as he looks at you.

“I think you and I are gonna get along great, sweetheart.” 

You ignore how your thighs press in on themselves while you sip your coffee, and you turn onto highway 13, headed for Indianapolis.

When you step out of the bathroom in the motel room in Indianapolis, you find Eddie hunched over by the window, wearing nothing but a pair of blue plaid boxers. The chain on his wrist jingles as he smacks at the A/C unit beneath the drawn curtains.

“Everything okay?” You ask, pretty much knowing what the answer is. Your hair drips water down your back, but you can still feel the muggy summer heat in the room practically smothering your pores. 

“Damn Motel 6 A/C,” he grumbles as he gives it one last smack on the side, to no avail. “The unit’s broken, there’s gonna be no cool air in the room.”

“That’s okay, we can crack a window.” 

“In this part of the city?” Eddie scoffs, looking over at you. “Believe me, princess, I applaud your optimism- I would have just driven away from me there at the gas station, given the chance. But if we crack that window, we’re gonna get fucking robbed, first thing. Believe me.”

“I believe you,” you huff, clutching the itchy motel towel to your wet skin. Usually you would just pull on a tank and a pair of panties and call it a night, but there’s no such luck for you here. You have a backpack full of old, dirty clothes, and no clean underwear to speak of- you’ve been washing them in public bathroom sinks since Columbus. “Well, I’m just gonna sleep naked, then. You do what you’ve gotta do.” 

“What- you’re gonna- what?” Eddie blathers, sitting back on his heels. You stare at him for a second- he’s a vision of flushed skin and a cloud of brunette hair cascading over his shoulders. Knobbly knees stick up at awkward angles, hairy thighs disappear into the hem of his boxers drawn tight across his skin. Your eyes glance over the ominous bulge in the crotch of them, not willing to think about those parts of a man you barely know. “You really think- I mean- is that wise?”

“Are you gonna get frisky with me, Eddie?” You ask with a teasing voice. You’d learned enough about him on the way to the city- 24 years old, no prospects, big dreams, ran a D&D club in high school, worked in a garage to help pay the bills- that you’re fairly certain he’s a good enough guy to keep his hands to himself. You just enjoy watching his big eyes go rounder at the insinuation.

“No, of course not. Wouldn’t dream of it.” Eddie looks mortified. He backtracks, “Unless- unless you wanted me to, I mean-” 

“Don’t overanalyze it,” you tell him mildly, turning your back to him to rifle through your bag. “We’re both adults, it’s hot, there’s one bed and we’re both paying for it. Something tells me you’ve done worse things than lay next to someone without clothes on.”

Eddie blows a long breath out of pursed lips, not moving from his seat on the floor. He doesn’t deny your accusation, just mutters, “You put so much faith in me, sweetheart.”

“Don’t make me regret it.” 

You drop the wet towel on the floor and round the bed to turn down the sheets. Eddie’s eyes trail you; you can feel them burning into your skin, lit by the dim yellow light on the bedside table. It takes a moment for him to finally move, a single trembling hand reaching up to swipe a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from the table.

“You gonna sit there on the floor all night?” You muse as you lay back on the bed. It’s too fucking hot. The dampness from the shower hasn’t dried, but now it’s simply growing with the rate your body is perspiring. Your hair and skin stick to the white sheets, which feel pasty each time you move.

“Just getting my bearings,” Eddie says, his voice tight and hollow. “You smoke?”

“Not especially, but I won’t stop you.” 

The smell of tobacco hangs in the heavy air more potently than you expected. The humidity dampens the vapor, making it sting your nose and leech into your mouth, even though you’re not the one directly breathing it. It strikes you as devastatingly intimate- the thought that you might be breathing the smoke that’s already touched his lungs. 

“Do you mind if I strip down, too?” Eddie asks after a long time of deliberating as he smoked. “Not that- I mean, I don’t have any pajamas, so…”

“Do what you need to do, honey,” you murmur, repeating what you’d told him before. “We can find a laundromat in the morning. Maybe get you a change of clothes somewhere.”

“Right.” He doesn’t say much after that, but you listen to him rustling around, stubbing out his cigarette in an ashtray and flicking off the bedside light. 

He straightens up, silhouette looming in the blue-dark from the curtained window. You watch from the corner of your eye while his backlit form hooks its thumbs in the waistband of his boxers, and drops them.

He clambers onto the bed beside you, careful not to bump any part of you. You refuse to look at him, scanning the asbestos popcorn on the ceiling above you with an overabundance of scrutiny, willing yourself to focus on anything but Eddie’s beautiful body, especially what he has below the belt. It’s a bad idea, no go. You don’t want to see it, don’t even want to think about it- what it looks like, how big it is, how it curves, what kind of hair surrounds it, if any-

You’re thinking about it.

And you told him not to overanalyze it. To be calm about it. What a fucking joke.

“You know, I’m not as easy as I might seem,” you blurt out suddenly, unaware of why you even do. You mostly come off sounding like you’re trying to convince yourself of it.

Eddie’s head rustles against the pillow as he glances at you in the dark. “I don’t think you are.”

“Okay. Just- just making sure,” you stutter out. “All evidence to the contrary, and all.”

“I’m not expecting to get lucky with you,” he tells you honestly, a little flatly, like he’s afraid of any inflection in his voice betraying him. “You know, beyond the ride west.”

“Right.” 

“Right.” 

You both regress into silence. You think you’ve both said your piece on the matter. You might not trust Eddie, not entirely, but you at least know he’s not gonna try anything stupid if you let yourself fall asleep. You actually think that he’s asleep after so many minutes, until he opens his mouth again.

“It’s really fucking hot, isn’t it?” He croaks. His hands twitch by his sides, feet jammed under the downturned covers, but everything else bare to the open room, like you. His pinkie brushes yours, and he nearly smacks himself jerking his hand back toward his stomach.

“Yeah, it’s not… it’s not good.” You blink into the darkness. “Sorry, you must be regretting coming with me all this way.”

“Nah, not a chance.” He brushes it off, waving a hand in the air dismissively. “I’ve been itching to get out of there since I graduated. Feel kinda bad that I didn’t leave a note for my uncle, but it’s not the first time I’ve bailed on him. I can always call him from a pay phone. Kinda wish I had my guitar, though.” 

“You play guitar?” you ask dazedly. You don’t have a hard time imagining it, now that you think about it. He has that rocker look about him, the kind that could grace magazines and be on posters on teenage girls’ walls, if he played his cards right. If he got his lucky break.

“Yeah. Pretty good, too, I guess.” He sighs. There’s a wistfulness in it, like he’s reminiscing on something from his past. “It’s okay. I can pick up another one once I get to California. Dropped a mint on the one I had back home, but I guess Wayne can always pawn it. Maybe get himself a nicer place.”

You chuckle. “And you think I’m the optimist here.”

“I never said it was a bad thing,” Eddie scoffs, then deepens his voice quite suddenly. “Two optimists, both alike in dignity-”

A burst of laughter bubbles from your chest, making Eddie grin as you gesture at your bodies. “Or lack, thereof.”

“In fair Indianapolis, where we lay our scene.” He ends his recitation giggling, the flimsy bed frame jolting with the shaking of his chest. “Radiant Juliet, you never did tell me where your chariot is taking me.”

“I’m not sure, really,” you admit, mellowing your laughter into a quiet giggle. “I just wanted to leave home. I was suffocating there, I needed to get out. See what’s out there for me, if anything.”

“And have you seen much?”

“Not much,” you tell him quietly. “Mostly truck stops and shitty roadside attractions. But we’re in the midwest, you know.”

“Don’t remind me.” He lays his hand back down on the mattress beside you. 

You turn your body towards him, damp sheets clinging to your skin as you move. “California might not be such a bad idea.”

Eddie turns his head and glances at you, dark eyes finding you in the dim moonlight. “No? I’ll have to fix your car, then.”

“You do that, and I’ll make sure to get you where you’re going,” you whisper.

“Deal.” His eyes linger on your face, just inches away from his on the pillow. Flickering in the moonlight, two voids that hold all the stars in the night sky seem to take you in like you’re more beautiful than they could ever be.

This time, when your fingers brush, he doesn’t jerk away. This time, you don’t avert your eyes when you look down at his cock, but you sure do regret it when you don’t reach out to touch it.

He’s so pretty. You want to.

I watched him show his love through shades of black and blue, starting fights at the bar across the street like you do…

Your underwear and his come out of the dryer wrapped around each other. You spend a minute disentangling them, a small heap of clothes in a rolling laundry basket in front of you. The closest laundromat to the Motel 6 had been a five minute drive down the street. 

You’d woken up with your head on his chest, your arm draped across his bare stomach, despite how you’d fallen asleep barely touching him. As if your unconscious body had known more about your wants than you. His hand had been tangled in your hair, palm cradling your cheek and a bit of your neck, like his own unconscious wanted to keep you against him, too. 

The morning had been easy- the easiest it’s been since you hit the road. Eddie seems to have given you a sense of purpose you didn’t have before, driving around aimlessly, only stopping for fast food every once in a while when you remembered to eat something other than beef jerky and coffee. Once you had extracted yourself from his grip, you’d gone to buy him clothes from the resale store next to the motel. It wasn’t hard to find a plain black shirt and jeans, but used underwear was something you didn’t want to mess with. You’d brought it back to the motel, along with some food from the Waffle House across the way, and you ate cross legged on the bed while he showered and put on his new-ish clothes.

But now, you can’t stop feeling his hand cradling your head. His hot, sweaty skin against your arm. Your fingernails raking lightly through the trail of hair on his stomach, dragging through his pubic hair, your knuckles just barely brushing up the side of his length- thick, uncut, and so so pretty. Then, stopping nervously when you’d gotten too bold, fingers skimming over sensitive skin too close to his groin, and he’d twitched in his sleep.

You want him. You don’t even know him, and you want him so badly you can feel it even now, an aching blush between your legs turning into a dull throb when you so much as think about him. 

You toss all the freshly washed clothes into a plastic bag that you’d grabbed by the door to the laundromat, and haul it out to your van. He’d told you to meet him at the bar across the street when you were done, since he needed to make a few calls on their payphone- he’d even given you his weathered denim vest before he left.

“For insurance,” he winked. “Uh, don’t wash it, though… I stitched it by hand, it’ll fall apart.”

You don’t put it in with the clean clothes. It smells like smoke and alcohol and him, the edges frayed and yellowing a bit. You hold it in your lap for a second, plucking at the stringy bits around the arm holes. Maybe you can convince him to let you soak it in a sink somewhere, hand washed and dried carefully over a working A/C unit, wherever you can find one. You don’t know when he last washed the damn thing, if ever.

When you pull into the parking lot of the dive bar, and you clutch the denim vest in your hand as you step out of your van, something sharp prods your thumb. You hiss, slamming the car door shut and examining what it was. The sharp point of a pin on the vest- which reads Motörhead- had come loose and pricked your skin, which now threatens to ooze blood all over the aged denim.

“Fuck,” you murmur, bringing your thumb to your mouth as you lock the car. You struggle with the vest while you walk towards the door to the dive, trying to resituate the pin so it doesn’t go missing.

You find him loitering beside a billiards table, pool stick in hand, a cigarette in his mouth. When he sees you walk in, his eyes light up, and he nearly drops the stick prancing over to you. 

“Told ya I’d still be here- hey, you okay?” His grin turns very readily into a frown when he sees you sucking your thumb like a child. 

“Yeah, no, I’m fine,” you mutter clumsily, “your pin just nicked me s’all.” 

“Oh, shit,” he curses, reaching for your hand. “Lemme see- no, let me see.” He forces your hand open when you try to close it, and scrutinizes the little pin prick as if it’s the worst battle wound he’s ever seen. “Should’a checked to make sure all the pins were right, this happens all the time. I’m so sorry, baby, my fault.”

Baby. Your brain tries to process it. He called you baby. 

He’s also kissing your thumb, cradling your hand with excessive care. He’s tasting your blood, sucking a little on the pin prick like you had been, so your skin is wet with a mix of his and your spit. You don’t think you’ll ever get tired of the way he touches you. Fleeting as his touches have been, anyways. You melt a little under his gaze as his round eyes blink up at you innocently.

“S’okay,” you tell him with a wobbly smile. “Did you make your calls?”

He looks at you softly, a reserved smile on his face. “I did. Wayne’s miffed, but he’ll live. Told him I’d send him a postcard.”

You giggle at that, thinking you’d sign it along with him. Sorry for stealing away your nephew; it will happen again. “Good. Buy me a drink, handsome?”

Eddie beams at you, and his dimples crease his cheeks as he turns to the bartender. There’s a sweet, boyish manner in the way he puffs out his chest and orders you a drink, his arm circling your waist as he moves you smoothly toward the bar. As soon as a whisky sour has been placed in front of you, he turns and squeezes your arm.

“Hey, I gotta finish this game,” he nods at the pool table he’d been stationed at. “I got some money on it. Y’okay with hanging out for a minute?” 

“Sure,” you chirp, sipping your drink. “Wipe the floor with ‘em for me?”

“It’s in the bag,” he whispers at you conspiratorially. You push his vest at him, imagining he wants to take his insurance back now that you know he’s not taking off on you, but he shakes his head. “No, you wear it. It’ll look good on you.” 

His eyes light up when you shrug the vest over your worn out white t-shirt. As you lift your drink, and he turns back to his game, you think you’d do anything to keep him looking at you like that.

Eddie wins. You don’t know how much he bet on the game, but there seems to be hurt feelings when he collects the money that had been placed on the table. You’ve never been much of a gambler, and he hadn’t struck you as one- but what do you know? He certainly bet on you getting him out of Hawkins, and you certainly took a chance on him. 

You don’t think much of it. It’s late afternoon- the sun’s going down, and you figure you’d better get going, but Eddie wraps his arms around you and says, “Dance with me.” And you do.

The jukebox in the corner only plays country classics. Patsy Cline croons over the speakers, taking you back to a time in your far off childhood. Eddie sways with you to the music, and even though there’s barely any rhythm to his dancing, you find yourself falling into it with him. Your head on his shoulder, his curly hair tickling the side of your face. His breath on your neck, cool on your heated skin. 

That is, until a hand wraps around Eddie’s shoulder and jerks him away from you. A man with blond hair, clearly a few too many drinks in, snarls at him, “That game was bullshit and you know it.”

Eddie blinks at him. “If by ‘bullshit’ you mean I beat you, then sure.”

“You di’int beat me, you cheated,” the man sneers. “I want my money back.” 

“Yeah, no.” Eddie claps the man on the shoulder, trying to push him away. “I won the game, I get the money. That’s how gambling works.” 

You step back when the man’s beady eyes fall on you, peering at him over Eddie’s shoulder. “What’re you lookin’ at?” 

“You leave her out of this, buddy,” Eddie growls dangerously, still forcing the man back with one strong hand on his shoulder. He’s trying to put himself between you and the man, you know. Still, you feel the need to fist your hand in the back of Eddie’s shirt and pull him away.

“I ain’t your buddy. Whatcha lookin’ at, bitch?” The man reaches out and yanks roughly on your arm, making you yelp in alarm.

And that’s when Eddie’s fist connects with the man’s jaw.

There’s a sickening crack. In the chaos, it somehow occurs to you that Eddie’s wearing all those chunky rings. You wonder if they could be considered a deadly weapon, in the same vein as brass knuckles.

It takes you a second to get through the initial shock, finding it hard to focus on who’s doing what. Eddie and the man have barrelled through a couple of tables, knocking over chairs. Eddie has the man pinned to the edge of the pool table, a flurry of fists moving from all sides. 

“You don’t touch my girl!” Eddie shouts at the man. “You don’t fuckin’ touch my girl!”  

His girl.

They tumble to the floor. The man curses and spits blood at him from a cut lip. A strong fist hits the side of Eddie’s face once, twice-

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” The words are shouted by the bartender, finally intervening, pulling the blond man off of Eddie. As the bartender restrains the unruly man, a second pulls an equally enraged Eddie away from him, separating the two. 

By the time you collect a bruised and bloodied Eddie into your arms, you’ve already tuned out the rest of the ruckus going on around you. Someone suggests that you should leave, but the words only barely register. You’re already pulling Eddie out the door and to the car.

You don’t even remember if you closed the tab.

Trouble’s always gonna find you, baby, but so will I. Crying only because I’m happy, hold me across every state line…

You don’t know when you started crying. Maybe it was around the time that Eddie fell unconscious.

Tears burn in your eyes like you’ve poured gasoline in them, but no matter how badly it stings you just keep sniffling and driving, tearing down the interstate away from Indianapolis, toward St. Louis. You hopped on I-70 as quickly as you could, and from there you’ve been lost in a world of your own.

He’d almost look peaceful, if it wasn’t for the blood on his jaw and the nasty shiner on his cheekbone. You keep telling yourself it’s not bad enough for him to need to be taken to a hospital. You can’t afford to go to a hospital, and even if you could, you’d have to explain how he got in this condition. It’s a recipe for jail time. You know that. You know.  

You just want to keep him safe, that’s all. 

He hadn’t instigated the fight, not really. He’d just swung first. He was just defending you.

His girl.  

When it gets to be too much, you pull over. Headlights gleam bright and then pass by in the dark with a whoosh of air. You think you must have crossed over into Illinois by now, or you’re getting close to it. The traffic has lightened considerably. 

You rest your head against the steering wheel, taking deep breaths, but the tears keep coming in streams. A while ago, you had a mattress in the back of this van. That was before it started having problems, and it sat in your family’s garage for a year and a half. You should have put a mattress in it when you took off, but you weren’t thinking that far ahead. You were having a breakdown, something like you’re having now, only worse. It was a manic, get-away-or-die-there kind of breakdown. 

Breathe in. You’re not gonna die. Breathe out. He’s breathing.

Once Eddie cracks his eyes open, he flexes his jaw with a groan. You can tell he’s confused by the inquisitive noise he makes, but when he looks at you, all that disappears in a heartbeat.

“Hey, what’re you- oh, god. Sweetheart, don’t cry.”  

As if that doesn’t make you want to cry harder. His hand lands tentatively on your shoulder, stiff fingered but light in touch. He shuffles closer to you, pulling you against him to sob into his secondhand shirt. 

It’s pathetic, you’re sure of it. You feel pathetic, twisting the cheap cotton of his shirt in your hands and saturating it with tears, as he shushes you and soothes a hand over your hair.

“It’s okay, baby,” he whispers into your hair, pressing his aching lips to your scalp in an attempt to calm you down. “We’ll be okay. I’m right here. What can I do?”

For some reason, the question makes you mad. “You don’t fucking fight,” you sob at him, the anger in your voice making him freeze. “You don’t- you don’t get into fights. I can deal with a lot of shit, Eddie Munson, but I can’t deal with that.”

“Okay, honey. Okay.”

“No fighting.” 

“No fighting,” he repeats affirmatively, petting your head. Then he adds, “No gambling.”

“No bars.”

“Well-”

“No bars.” 

“All right,” Eddie resigns, resting his chin on top of your head. Once you’ve stopped crying, from what he can feel, he tells you softly, “I’m not… I’m not like that, you know. I want you to know. I don’t fight, not usually.”

“You did.” 

“I did,” he agrees. “I just don’t like… I didn’t like him touching you. Disrespecting you like that- did he hurt you?”

“No,” you lie. The guy had yanked your arm a little too hard, your wrist still smarting a bit. Nothing near what Eddie had taken. “He hurt you, though.”

“I’ve had worse, trust me.” His tone is ominous, like you don’t really want to know the heavy details of it. “I’m not a fighter. Used to be if I saw danger, I’d just turn tail and run. I usually just take shit on the chin. But I never had anything to fight for before, really.”

You sniffle loudly, grossly. “I don’t want you to fight for me.”

“I’m gonna protect you, sweetheart. No matter what,” he insists. “Long as we’re together, I’m gonna do everything I can to protect you. Okay?”

Long as we’re together. Like you’re a couple, like you didn’t just meet by chance at a gas station a little more than 24 hours ago. Like you’re in love. 

His girl.  

“My dad’s in prison,” Eddie blurts out, raking a shaky hand through your hair. “He, uh… he was a fighter. And a thief. And a gambler. And a liar. He tried his best to make me be like him, but I don’t- I don’t wanna be like him.” Eddie sighs, a sad sound that rips through your already bleeding heart. “I thought maybe getting out of Hawkins would set me straight. Finally give me a chance to make something better of myself, prove I’m not like my old man. I tried, but after high school I got in some trouble, and Wayne had to sell my old van to pay for my bail. Now I’m here, and… Guess you just take yourself wherever you go, huh?” 

“Yeah,” you agree. Your fingers curve against his hip, squeezing the skin there. “So we have to try to change ourselves in the meantime, while we get where we’re going.”

Eddie breathes in, and it sounds an awful lot like a sniffle.

“Eddie. Are you crying?”

“No.” He is.

You lift your head with a wet, coughing chuckle at his futile attempt to hide it. You look up at him, your fingers tucking a lock of unruly, dark hair behind his ear. He’s staring back at you with glassy eyes, the tip of his nose gone red with the tears he’s holding back. He just barely flinches when your knuckles brush the bruise on his cheekbone.

“Hey, handsome,” you coo at him softly, your touch featherlight on his skin. He blinks, a tear dropping from his lashes. “I’m gonna get you cleaned up, okay?” 

“Okay.” His lip wobbles. “Let me hold you a little longer, first?”

“Of course, Eddie.” You fall into his grasping hands, yanking you to him like a child searching for the comfort of his favorite teddy bear. You’d let him hold you as long as he liked.

You wash his face in a dirty rest area just west of Terre Haute. In the middle of the night, no one is around to tell you not to, so you follow him into the men’s room and take your time wiping the blood from his jaw and his hands. You gingerly apply a bandage from your car’s console to his bruised cheek, while he sits in the front seat and brackets your hips with his knees.

He gazes up at you like a man seeing God.

The neighbors beat on the walls, while I'm face first in the bed. Show me how much I mean to you while I’m lying in these sheets undressed…

You sleep in the rest area that night, in the back of your van. No mattress, just your backs to the hard floor of the cab. With no A/C again, you shuck your clothes and spread a single white blanket over your bodies, more for modesty’s sake than anything else. Even though it’s unlikely that a cop is going to run you down in the middle of nowhere, you’d rather not get cited for public indecency. 

He holds you all night long, his arms around you and his chest against your back giving you peace, but he doesn’t touch you in any of the ways that you desperately want him to.

It takes the better part of a day to drive to St. Louis. Eddie swallows a couple tylenol for his face with his truck stop coffee and eggs, smiling softly at you from across a bright yellow plywood table in a cafeteria. From the look on his face, you doubt that he regrets the fight that gave him his wounds.

By the time your old van rattles up to another Motel 6 at the outskirts of the city, Eddie’s shaking his head. “The car’s not gonna take much more than this. I need to give it a good look, maybe borrow a tool kit and give it a tune up.”

“Whatever you say, magic man,” you muse at him. “Let’s just sleep in a real bed tonight, huh?”

His head tilted back, he looks at you sideways with a lopsided smile. You can tell his face is still hurting, but he puts on a brave face and bats his eyelashes at you. “Sounds good to me, princess.”

His touch lingers on you more, now, than it did yesterday. His fingers grazing your forearm as you open the glass door to the motel office, his hand hovering over your lower back as you sign for the room. His arm slung over your shoulder as he follows you down to the room, twirling the key around his finger. 

“You think the A/C will work this time?” He asks you lightheartedly as he turns the key in the lock.

“Only one way to find out,” you return with the same warmth in your voice. If you from two days ago could hear yourself, and that ooey-gooey note of lovesickness in your voice, your past self might keel over and die. When did this happen? 

You drop your bag of clothes on the bench by the bathroom door. Eddie bangs around the A/C unit a bit, until something starts whirring, and he makes a gleeful noise.

“It’s aliiiiive!” He announces dramatically, emulating Dr. Frankenstein. You giggle as he leaps toward you, practically throwing you onto the bed in excitement. “We have cool air. We can actually wear clothes to bed tonight.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, not even trying to hide your disappointment at the thought. The best part of your last two mornings has been waking up to his naked body beside yours, warm and soft and littered with tattoos that you just can’t stop looking at. 

You mean, I won’t get to wake up to your skin on mine tomorrow? I won’t be able to pretend like I’m not staring at your dick and imagining all the things I want to do to it? How will I be able to admire you for my own perverted gain?

You don’t even realize that you’re stroking your fingers across his bruised cheek until he leans into your touch. Then you take inventory of your current position- your back to the mattress, his body hovering over you, half covering you. Caging you in with his arms. His long hair creates a veil around your faces. 

When he blinks his eyes open at you, you can tell where his mind is before he opens his mouth. “Did we have our first fight yesterday?”

You frown, a puff of air exiting your nose. “No, I think I’d call it laying ground rules.”  

“Ground rules,” Eddie nods, his sore cheek rubbing against your hand. You’re starting to wonder if he likes the pain, since he won’t stop pushing into it. “I’m not great at remembering rules. What were they, again?”

“No fighting.”

“Right, and no gambling.”

“No bars.”

He squints. “Is that one still up for negotiation, or…?” He trails off, giggling as you smack your hand lightly against his shoulder. “Kidding! I’m kidding. No bars. Got it.” 

“And that was it,” you tell him sweetly. “Unless there was another one you wanted to add?”

He stares at you for a long moment, his fingers twirling in the hair right beside your ear as he gets lost in thought. Say what you’re thinking, your mind practically screams at him. Please, god, say what we’re both thinking…

Eddie licks his lips and finally says, “No sleeping with clothes on?”

Gotcha. A creeping smile stretches your face, trying to play coy even when your heart’s beating a mile a minute. Eddie’s eyebrows raise at you, waiting for an answer. 

“I’m not easy, Eddie.”

“I know,” he tells you, mirroring your smile. “I don’t expect to get lucky with you.”

“I know,” you hum. Your hand drifts up the side of his torso, a more firm and languorous touch than you’d previously been brave enough to give him. “But do you want to?”

Eddie shudders, and it’s the first honest to god evidence you have that you turn him on as much as he does you. The realization feels rapturous. 

“God, yes.”

He kisses you then, open-mouthed and passionate, his hand cupping your jaw to keep you where he wants you. Your nails scratch up his back with a loud tearing sound against his shirt, and he chuckles as you frantically clutch at him with all your strength. 

“I know, pretty girl,” he murmurs, pecking your lips briefly before descending to bite at your jaw. “You’ve been wanting this since that first night. Feelin’ me up in the morning, like I wouldn’t notice…”

“I didn’t wanna wake you,” you hiccup as his hand cups the crotch of your jeans, rocking the meat of his palm firmly where you’re dying for friction. “Oh, ffffuck Eddie, m’sorry…”

“And here you were, thinking I was the pervert,” he grunts. “‘Least I can keep my hands to myself, hm?”

“I’m sorry, I’m s-sorry,” you babble at him, hands shaking as they grip onto his shoulders. Now that the aching throb between your legs is back, and he’s finally giving it attention, you can’t seem to come up with a more coherent sentence. Your face grows hot, but not at the fact that you’d been caught in your lechery- just because he turns you on more than you can think to admit.

“Don’t be sorry, sweet thing,” Eddie whispers. His dark eyes are lined up with yours, the curtain of his hair shielding them from reflecting any of the light from the desk lamp- it’s just you and the starry voids of space, locked in your own little world. He rubs his hand back and forth with practiced pressure against the front of your jeans, your hips kicking up against him. “I want you to touch me. Want you to do whatever you want with me, baby.” 

“Whatever I want?” Your fingers dragging up his lower back, under his shirt to feel the heat of his skin.

“Anything,” he insists, kissing you again. Wet and sloppy, teeth clacking as you grind up into his palm. Your thick denim jeans are about the most abominable things that have ever existed.

You feel like your head’s on sideways with how pent up you already are. “I want you to fuck me Eddie- jesus chr- can we do that? Right now? Please?” 

Eddie laughs. A happy, whole-hearted, almost disbelieving laugh. “Thought I was gonna be the one begging you, after all this…” His breath hitches, the touch of his hand leaving you so that he can push himself back. “Lemme get you out of these clothes, yeah?”

You nod quickly, earning a pleased hum from him. The way he undresses you is touched by reverence; his fingers slow as they drag the cotton of your shirt over your head, grazing your skin all the way. His lips dancing across your collarbone as he undoes the front of your stupid fucking jeans. You just want them off, done with and laying in a pile to be forgotten about by the motel room door, but Eddie has other plans. 

“Slow.” He grabs your hip to stop your wiggling, fingers curled around the back of the waistband of them as he pulls the denim down your thighs. “We’ve got all night, baby. I’m not leaving. Not going anywhere.” 

“I want you,” you insist desperately, sounding like a broken record. Your distress is evident on your face, in the way you clench your thighs together to hide the obnoxious wet spot growing on your cotton panties. You wonder if he’d felt it when he was touching you over your jeans, if the heat and dampness had soaked through the denim as well. You wouldn’t be surprised.

“You have me, sweetheart,” Eddie ensures. “Don’t… I don’t want you to worry about it. M’gonna make sure there are no worries in that pretty head.” 

He yanks his t-shirt off, the one you’d bought him from the resale store. A cloud of frizzy, dark hair obscures his pretty face for half a second, the shirt landing on the floor somewhere off to the side, and then Eddie’s eyes find you again, grinning at you widely with pointed teeth.

You grab for him, your fingers looping around the chain that hangs from his neck. Tugging him down, you press a gentle kiss to his lips. Then to his sore jaw, where a tiny scab has formed on the right side of his chin. Then to his bruised cheek, where he flutters his eyes shut and groans softly at the brush of your lips. 

“My boy,” you whisper to him, and you don’t even know if he understands the significance of it to you. His girl. Your boy.  

Eddie smiles against your skin. He peppers kisses everywhere he can reach, down onto your chest, dragging his sharp teeth every once in a while just to hear you keen. You’re certain you’ve ruined your underwear now, feeling the wetness grow cool against your skin. 

What a fucking concept. Cool air. 

Eddie seems to have the same thought as you, as he slips his fingers beneath the white cotton and peels them down your legs. Strings of your arousal stick to the wet fabric, dropping off in thick tendrils onto the sheets below you as he groans lowly.

“Fuck,” Eddie curses, shaking his head in chastisement as he settles between your legs at the end of the bed. He tsks, “Just look at you, poor thing. Should’a said something to me, can’t have you going around like this.”

You shiver as he trails his mouth up the inside of your thigh. His day-old stubble scrapes your sensitive skin, making you break out in a cold sweat. “M’not- I didn’t want you to think-”

“That you’re easy?” He coos with a condescending smile. “No, honey. I know, you’re a good girl.” He nips at the widest part of your thigh, plush flesh indenting with the imprint of his teeth. “But I’m no good. You should know that, better than anyone. No good for you.”

Eddie’s tongue burns and soothes at the same time, leaving your brain a scrambled mess on the mattress beneath you. He gathers all of your collected arousal into his mouth, groaning like he’s been desperate to taste it all this time. “Been dreaming of this since I saw you, pretty girl.” 

Pulling your leg over his bare shoulder, he all but crushes you against his face, his sturdy hands wrapped around your hips to hold you still. Your back arched, your hips fully off the bed as he lifts your lower half into the air.

You choke out the first part of his name, your hands fisting in the comforter next to your head. There’s a twist of pleasure deep in your core that makes you whine far louder than necessary, a waterfall of words spilling from you before you can stop them, “Oh shit- Ed- I don’t- s’too good-”

“Too good?” Eddie snickers, eyes bright as he watches you from between your thighs. “Nothing's too good for you.” 

Then he spits onto your already soaked and swollen pussy. You sob, positively crying from the feeling of it, drenched and dripping along your sensitive flesh. Eddie spreads the wetness around with his tongue, and your cunt clamps down hard at the lewd squelch of it, the mortifying slurp of his lips closing down and sucking on your labia. 

“Oh fuck, what the fuck-” you whimper high to the ceiling, mouth hanging open in shock. 

You could have been doing this for days. He could have fucked you like this the first night, when you lay next to him, naked in the dark. Your body aches at the thought of being deprived of this longer than necessary.

“That’s it, baby, just stay still. Let me ruin you, huh?” Eddie murmurs, letting your thigh rest heavy on his shoulder so that he can move one hand, his thumb rubbing tight circles on your clit in front of his face. He watches your cunt glisten and throb for him, listening to your desperate sobs echo through the otherwise silent room, and whispers, “Shit. Like my own little fuckin’ pornstar, sweetheart.” 

Normally, you wouldn’t exactly take that as a compliment- but with the way he says it, with his voice thick and dark like that, and with the way the hot, slick velvet of his tongue dips into your channel and shoots electricity along your skin, you figure he must have meant it like one. 

He goes slow, thrusting into you gently, taking his time to get familiar between your legs. Still, it doesn’t stop you from positively shrieking toward the ceiling when he licks you from hole to clit, the entire expanse of his tongue sweeping along nerve endings that are charged like live wires. 

Eddie chuckles, hot breath spilling out over your feverish skin, and he pauses there. Lets you feel the warm press of his flattened tongue before he just barely rubs it back and forth, back and forth-

“Eddie-!?” You gasp, an erotically loud moan spilling out of your mouth right before you come all over his. You crumble, your hips threatening to buck out of his steady grip as searing euphoria rips through you. He scrambles, ringed fingers locking tight enough on your waist to bruise, keeping you against him as you thrash wildly. 

He keeps you like that for a long time, purring into your spasming pussy while an array of unhinged noises pour from your body- your mouth, your hands tearing at the sheets and at your head, your cunt and all its wet filth drenching Eddie’s bruised face. 

If it hurts him, he doesn’t let on. He just keeps going, and going.

Until something pounds against the wall behind your head. You hiccup, your dazed, post-orgasm brain unable to comprehend where the sound is coming from. That wasn’t- couldn’t have been me…

“Pretty sounds,” Eddie giggles as he finally pulls his mouth away from you. “Guess the neighbors agree.”

“Oh, god.” Your hands cover your face, hot and sticky with sweat. Your eyes feel heavy, fuck-drunk, your heart still pounding in your chest from the adrenaline of the orgasm Eddie gave you. You feel embarrassed, like you ought to be going over to apologize to whatever sorry person happens to be sharing a wall with you, now.

Eddie has other plans. “Think we should give the audience a good show, huh?”

It’s merely a suggestion- you know that you could always find a way to quiet yourself, stuff your mouth with cotton and stifle your moans- but the implication of it makes your toes curl. Your breath rattles in your chest when you inhale. “You… you want everyone in the building to hear you fucking me?”

Eddie crowds you on the bed, your legs still slung over his shoulders so that you’re bent nearly in half. He’s still too fucking clothed for your liking- his leather belt digs into the back of your thighs as he presses a sloppy kiss to your dry lips. “I want everyone here to know you’re mine, sweetheart.”

Your hands cradle his face, pulling him in for a deeper kiss as he slowly lowers your legs from his shoulders. Your over extended legs flop down onto the mattress, and you whine into his mouth as he massages his tongue with yours.

“I’m yours, Eddie,” you moan against his damp skin. “Oh god, I want it- want everyone to know.”

You take the initiative, with one last kiss turning in his grip. His hand slips, catching himself from toppling off the bed as you scoot onto your stomach, your knees planting on the mattress so that you can wiggle your hips up at him. 

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath, smoothing a gentle palm over your ass before he kisses your lower back. He pauses, drawing soft kisses up your spine until his breath sweeps your shoulder blade. “You’re so beautiful. How’d I get so fucking lucky?”

A quiet keen is the only answer you give him, shoving your hips backward to get him to just fucking touch you, but he pulls away too quickly. There’s the clink of a belt buckle, a zipper being pulled, and you tense, your hand closing into a fist around the pillow at the head of the bed. Following the rustle of clothes, you hear the crinkle of a condom wrapper- you hadn’t even realized he had one. It didn’t even occur to you, in your dizzying need to fuck him, like some loveblind idiot.

You almost berate yourself for it, but then you feel his cock press against your entrance, and all those thoughts die away. He rolls his hips, and every single muscle in you tightens.

Eddie chokes on air as pleasure positively tears through you. Your eyes roll back, your mouth wide open and threatening to drool onto the pillow you’ve been shoved face-first into. 

“F-fuck, you’re so big.” It’s the only thing you can choke out around moans. He splits you so wide, dragging through your slick walls that are still so sensitive from your first orgasm. 

“Holy shi- oh my god-” he gasps behind you. “M’so sorry- I can’t- Feels so fucking good-”  

You groan, unable to form words to adequately answer him. All you can manage to do is jam your hips backward in an attempt to get him deeper, as far as he can fucking go inside you. Your body blazes, everything coming up smelling of sex and sweat as you wail hopelessly into the pillow.

Eddie snarls, a deep and dangerous noise in the back of his throat as he draws his hips back and presses into you again. There’s no time for you to adjust, each thrust a little more forceful than the last. His cock hits sharp heaven deep inside you, punching loud and guttural moans from you each time his hips impact your ass. 

“That’s a good girl- so ffffucking wet, goddamnit,” Eddie praises you through clenched teeth, ringed fingers and bruised knuckles wrapping loosely around your neck to lift your head from the pillow. “Let them hear all those pretty noises for me, baby.”

“Eddie…” You hiccup, your voice kicked up into a shrill whine. You swallow against the press of his fingers on your throat, holding your jaw into the air so there’s no place for your sounds to go but to the wall and through it. 

Above your head, the banging on the wall starts back up. Eddie drops your chin and slams his hand on top of the headboard, gripping tightly at plywood that threatens to hit the wall as he ruts into you. Your face hits the pillow again, but your sobbing moans still come out loud and disruptive as Eddie speeds up his hips in retaliation. 

“Doing so good f’me. Feel me, princess? So fucking deep,” Eddie groans. His cock licks up a sweet heat inside of you, and you know you’re going to come. He curses lowly, his hips pistoning into yours hard enough that you have to smack your hand into the headboard to keep from knocking into it. “Taking me so well. So perfect- s’like you were made for me, I know it, I just fucking know it…”

Eddie’s arm wraps around your waist from behind, and he hauls your back into his sweat-slick chest. You almost feel weightless, for a moment, before you’re settled back into his lap, your thighs bracketing his as he kneels beneath you, clutching you against him. 

A gasp tears from your mouth with a loud, “Shit!” His cock hits a different spot inside you, bursting color behind your closed eyelids as you throw your head back against his shoulder.

Eddie’s breath fans across your neck, sweat-damp hair tickling the side of your face. His hand greedily palms at your breasts, bouncing you in his lap as his tongue traces a wet line along your shoulder. 

“Just know you were made for me,” Eddie repeats quietly in your ear, his breath feeling like flames on your neck. “That’s why you found me, baby. You were meant to be mine, my girl.”

His girl.

“Yours, Eddie,” you blubber, reaching back to dig a fist into his hair as his hands squeeze your breasts. “M’all yours.”

“Yeah?” Eddie murmurs, his voice saccharine and velvety. He moans in your ear when your cunt clenches down, a threatening throb at the outskirts of your orgasm. “Say it again.”

A whimper, high and needy in your throat. “I’m yours. Your girl- oh, f-fuck, Eddie- I’m gonna-” 

“That’s right. My good girl. Only easy when it comes to me, right?” 

Eddie’s hand drags purposefully down, fingernails dragging just through your pubic hair, just barely grazing where you want him- just like you did to him, that first morning. The realization makes you seize up, all tense from head to toe. 

“What’s it like, when I do it to you? You like it?” He whispers, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. You suck in a sharp breath, a hiss through your teeth as you nod. His laugh is barely a ghost of a breath on your skin. “Yeah. I did, too.”

Eddie’s voice in your ear says, “Come for me,” and not even a fraction of you would deny him that.

His finger drags slowly your clit, calloused skin catching on the swollen bud, and you come. Your body slumps against him, and you’re so grateful for his arms around you to hold you through it. You’d swear he was splitting you in half with the sounds coming from your mouth. Your head tilted back on his shoulder, every breath is punctuated by a hoarse cry that breaks in your throat. Your hand clamps around his arm, which is still cradling you close to his chest as his own moans ring in your ear, his hips driving up into you as your cunt pulses around his cock. You know that he comes when his teeth wrap around the muscle of your shoulder and bite down.

Silence settles over your sweaty bodies, but thunderous banging is still furiously happening on the other side of the wall. You hear voices, words too muffled by the drywall to be intelligible, but they still sound angry.

Eddie won’t let you go, not yet. He’s clutching you, his mouth still wrapped around your shoulder, even though his teeth aren’t biting anymore. You pet his forearm, and lean forward just enough to knock lightly on the wall.

“We’re done!” Your voice cracks with the effort it takes to call out to the people on the other side.

“Fantastic show, my love. I think we deserve five stars.” Eddie laughs, nuzzling his face into your neck as he finally releases your shoulder from the trappings of his jaw. “I think I’m corrupting you, sweetheart.”

You hum, still petting his arm. “I think you already have, teddy.” 

Eddie freezes, his grip on your waist tightening just a little. “No one’s called me that since I was a kid.”

“What, teddy?” He nods. Your fingernails drag dully down his arm, tracing over a tattoo of a swarm of bats, which breaks out in goosebumps under your touch. “Is that… Can I call you that?”

“Yeah,” he rasps. “Yeah, you can- you can call me teddy.”

It’s quiet after that. He rocks you in his arms until you kiss his knuckles and lift yourself gingerly from his lap, earning a pacified grunt from him as his softened cock slides out of you. You watch him as he ties off the condom and tosses it in the wastebasket a few feet away, then flops backward onto the bed so that his head hits the pillows. 

You chuckle, sliding forward to run your hands along his stomach. “Honey, you still have your pants on.”

He hadn’t taken them completely off, only pushed them down far enough to free his cock and have at you. What’s more, he still has his boots on, too- big, black motorcycle things that nearly hang off the end of the bed. 

Eddie grunts dismissively. “C’n deal with it in the morning.”

“No sleeping with clothes on.”

He huffs petulantly, but the scowl he tries to give you turns into a lovesick grin pretty quick. He tucks his hand behind his head in mock-nonchalance. “Hey, pretty lady. You come here often?”

“Once or twice, so far.” You grin at him as he laughs, rolling your eyes as you move down the bed to finish undressing him. You untie his boots and let them fall with his jeans and boxers onto the floor at the end of the bed, glancing up at him once you’re finished.

His eyes are closed. You don’t think he’s sleeping yet, but he’s flushed, covered in sweat. He’s still so much of an enigma to you, but you adore him. You’re enamored with him. 

You crawl slowly up the length of his body, feline-like in your movements. You appraise his tattoos, smoothing your hands over them as you go. You lean down and press featherlight kisses across his beautiful, bruised face. 

Eddie cracks his eyes open at you with an inquisitive smirk, just barely puckering his lips to kiss you back when you land one on them. “Feeling me up again, sweetheart?” 

You hum, kissing his chest. “You’re hot.” It’s the only explanation you afford him. And once he’s shut his eyes again, you carefully move down his body, peppering kisses across his naked torso.

“What’re you-?” He twitches when you drag your tongue over his cock, still wet and salty with his cum. He groans as you slowly lift it, suckling on the head gently. “Oh… Sweetheart, m’not… I don’t think I can-”

“I’m just cleaning you up, teddy,” you tell him gently. “S’okay. You can go to sleep.”

He hums tiredly, his hand lifting to run through your hair, stroking tenderly against the back of your head. “My girl just can’t keep her hands off, huh?”

“Not a chance,” you tell him, giving him another slow lick. “You’re just too fucking pretty, Eds.”

“And you’re too fuckin’ perfect.” Eddie only really falls asleep after he comes again.

I’m never gonna leave you, baby, even if you lose what’s left of your mind…

A few days later, the car breaks down in Colorado Springs.

It had been acting up for a while, of course. Even though you enjoyed watching Eddie when he was bent over the open hood, bare arms sweaty and streaked with grease in the afternoon heat, you knew it ultimately wasn’t going to end well. 

Each time Eddie tinkered with it, more and more concerning things came to light. “One of your cylinders misfired,” he said one time, shaking his head. He’d insisted on driving it from that point on. Another, “The fucking spark plug has gone out. We have to get a new one.” That was $75 you didn’t have to spare.

You guess the car had just fucking had it when you got to Colorado. You went to start it up at a truck stop, and the whole thing just sputtered and coughed at you, and then you didn’t have an engine anymore.

After Eddie paced around and cursed about it for a couple minutes, you both crawled into the back of the van and locked the door. And now you sit cross-legged across from each other, with everything of value that you have to your name in a little pile in front of you.

When you left home, you’d saved up a couple thousand to live off of until you got somewhere you felt comfortable working and living in. Since then, you’ve squandered it on food and motels and gas, never staying put and now rambling along with Eddie.

From the ATM, Eddie had stolen around two thousand dollars. He’s in the same boat as you, now looking at only a couple hundred in between the two of you. Hardly enough to afford a hotel room or bus fare for the both of you. Certainly not enough to get you a new car, or even rent one.

He scrubs his hands down his face, dirty fingernails pressing into his skin. “You should take it.”

“What?” You squint at him. 

“There’s enough here for bus fare for you, at least,” Eddie murmurs, his fingers poking at the pile and scooting it toward you. “Getcha where you want to go. Get a nice job at a tourist shop in Vegas or Santa Monica or something.”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Eddie?” you snap. You swat his hand away from the pile, looking affronted. “I’m not taking the money, so cut it out. We’ll figure something else out.”

Eddie shakes his head, like he’s already made up his mind. “We had a deal. I fix your car, you take me with you. And I didn’t fix your car.”

“Yeah, but that was before…” you trail off, scrutinizing his expression. He won’t meet your gaze. He won’t look at you. 

Eddie’s mouth opens and closes like he’s a fish out of water. Then, he says bitingly, “Before we fucked?” 

You can feel all the emotion drain from your face, leaving you a blank, hollow screen with dead eyes just staring at him. It’s your best defense against bursting into tears at the very tone of his voice. 

When he glances at you, you can tell that he wants to take it back immediately. His teeth worry his bottom lip, ripping at chapped shreds of skin. “Don’t do me any favors, sweetheart.”

“It’s not a fucking favor- I thought we were doing this together.”

Eddie talks over you. “You don’t need to keep dragging me around with you, okay? You’re off the hook.”

“Eddie, you’re being mean,” you croak at him. Not exactly the quick, biting wit that you can usually whip out- he’s shocked you.

He drops his eyes, his hands squeezing his knees. “Yeeeah,” he grumbles, his fingers tapping sporadically against his denim jeans. “Well, I told you, I’m no good for you. You didn’t listen.”

You told me that while your tongue was in my pussy. The words are balanced on the edge of your teeth, but they won’t fall out. Your hands itch to reach out for him, grab his chin and force him to look at you, somehow. 

Instead, they snatch up the little bit of cash from your side of the pile in between you. You crumple it in your hand and shove the wad into your jacket pocket before you grab the strap of your weather-beaten backpack full of the last things you have to your name, and kick open the back door of the van. 

It’s summer, but it’s windy in Colorado. It must be something about the mountains, you guess, and it being early morning. Condensation hangs in the air, making the air both heavy and cool as you breathe. Funny- if you slept naked, you’d probably have to curl up into each other for warmth, for a change. 

You’re either vibrating from rage or from the abnormal chill in the air. Standing on the street corner with the gas station sign lit up in neon behind you, you kick the crosswalk pole with your dirty converse. You’re still arguing with him, in your head. We were in this together, motherfucker. I told you, I’m your girl. I put all my eggs in your basket. Whatever fucking martyr complex this is, you can shove it right up your stupid-

“I know.” Eddie’s tattooed arms wrap around your waist and pull you into his chest, his face buried in your hair as he whispers urgently into it. “I know, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

So, you weren’t arguing with him in your head. You were actually yelling everything you were thinking, and he chased you as you stormed off. Seems about par for the course. 

“Fuck you, Eddie, did it even mean anything to you?” you blather at him, your voice thick with impending tears. “‘Cause it meant something to me.”

“Course it did,” he rasps at you, his arms squeezing you to him so tight that you’re running out of air to breathe. “I didn’t- I was being shitty. I’m sorry. Please, don’t leave.”

“Then don’t push me away.” The tears collect in your lashes, finally dripping down your cheeks. You turn in his arms and whack your hand flat against his chest. “Don’t treat me like some slut, don’t- I didn’t sleep with you just because I wanted you to fix my fucking car, you jerk.”

“I don’t think that,” Eddie insists quietly, wiping your tears away with his thumbs. “C’mon, now.”

“You said-”

“I know what I said,” he cuts you off. “And I didn’t mean it. I have a bad habit of throwing away the good things in my life, ‘cause… ‘cause of that martyr complex, you said-” He jams his tongue against the roof of his mouth when you hiccup, staring up at him with a wobbly lip. “Don’t let me throw you away. You’re the best thing I’ve ever had, ‘n I don’t wanna lose you just because I’m an idiot.”

You sigh, your head falling neatly into the crook of his neck like it’s meant to be there. He’s too quiet, holding you against him at the street corner. Eddie breathes in deep and kisses the side of your head longingly. 

“I can get us a car.”

You lift your head to look at him. He wears a disappointed expression. “But we don’t have any money.”

“It won’t take money,” Eddie mumbles as he strokes your back. “I, uh… I didn’t want to end up like my old man, but…” he shrugs, his eyes cast away from you. He chuckles sadly. “Nothin’ I can do about that, now, I guess. I mean, look how you met me.” 

Oh. You can infer what he means by the far-off look on his face, like he’s resigned himself to his fate. You lift your hands to cradle his face; the bruise on his cheekbone has faded to yellow, the scab on his chin almost healed. He’s never looked more beautiful to you.

“You’re a good man, Eddie,” you tell him sternly.

Eddie’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Don’t be too sure of that. You might change your mind.”

‘Cause you know I’ll be right there beside you, riding through all these western nights…

The sedan isn’t exactly flashy, or new. It’s a tin can on wheels that’ll crumble into bits if you so much as side-swipe a trash can. You keep a lookout as Eddie jimmies an unwound wire coat hanger between the glass window and the door, and a second later the door is unlocked.

You’re unnervingly calm. How did you get to be so calm about all this? Stealing money, driving getaway cars, stealing other cars when those ones don’t work. Suddenly an accomplice to whatever illegal shit has to happen for you to get where you’re going.

What’s worse, you think, is how badly the sight of him hotwiring the car turns you on. It’s practically horrifying the way your skin crawls and your core burns as you watch his hands fiddle with the wires beneath the console, so quick that your mind can barely process it. You’re not sure if the adrenaline in your veins is from looking to see if anyone’s coming, or if it’s because you want to jump his bones.

"I swear to you," he's saying as he swipes at frayed wires, "I swear, when we get to San Francisco, I'll never- I'm gonna get an honest, real fuckin' job, I'm not gonna do anything to hurt yo-"

The car starts, and you leap into the front seat without giving it any more thought. “Eddie?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?” He looks up at you, his brows tilted up expectantly. He’s still tucking wires back under the dashboard, preparing to take off once he gets the door shut.

“I slept with you because I’m falling in love with you.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide as moons, glittering in the light of a fluorescent floodlight at the corner of the dark parking lot. 

“You don’t have to love me back,” you tell him honestly. “I just wanted you to know. I’m with you. And I’m not gonna leave.”

You don’t know if he loves you back- not yet, anyways. He doesn’t say it to you. But he kisses you like he does.

I'll be screaming your name past the gas stations, trailing down the interstate. Please don’t love how I need you, and know that one day, you and I could be okay.

[kermitcasanovaspamz]

a.o ii

[this is based off of my own experience and interactions i’ve had with people, so take only what resonates]

venus in aries is the most passionate venus placement i have dealt with. honestly, bonnie and clyde type of high. loves to be treated like 'the prize', but does not want to be babied

yooo moon in pisces people, when they like you??? FAM it's like they worship tf out of you

i will always preach for moon opposite moon synastry. yeah, it can be disastrous, but when it's not, it's one of the most rewarding bonds you can have w/ sb (imo, but i may just be a lil crazy :P)

the 2h/8h placements that i've known tend to be extremely wary of their finances. i've seen some being super careful with their money, others (with for e.g moon in 2h or even taurus to a certain extent) go through periods of time where they don't waste a single cent and then BOOM self-indulge to an extreme. what i mean is, 2h/8h individuals and their relationship with money is... interesting to say the least haha

i think we need to talk about how sensitive aquarius placements are. not necessarily emotional, but they have a big heart for sure and really want the best for other people

on a less positive? note lol... libras (ESPECIALLY libra moons) love it when their partner is good looking. like when their s/o smells good, puts in effort to look presentable, they love that. it's superficial, but it it's important to them: the aesthetic, the harmony, etc

[byuntrash101]

ateez masterlist

disclaimer: everything is smut, mdni. everything is idol x fem!reader

📖 28 fics and counting...

✲ multiple members

first flight to hongkong | 18.3k — idol!au, dom ot8!ateez

yes, you're suprised when your company offers you a vacant spot in the vip crew. but "surprised" doesn't cut it when you discover what kind of service your company provides the vips

realistic sex with ateez | on going series — headcanons

how each member would actually fuck you

seonghwa▪︎mingi▪︎yunho▪︎wooyoung...tba

sharing is caring? | 5.2k — idol!au, simp!mingi & possessive bf!hongjoong

of course hongjoong cares about his friends but when mingi gets too close to his girl it’s time to remind him sharing is not always caring.

the good friend | 3.4k — idol!au, simp!mingi & bf!san

san has known about mingi’s crush on his girlfriend for a while now. he also happens to be a very good and caring friend who values their friendship very much. and san would do just about anything to help a friend

the better friend | 7.3k — idol!au, simp!mingi & bf!san

a good friend let's a friend watch. a better a friend let's him join

cheerleader | 1.5k — gentle dom!yunho, dom!mingi, dom!san, mean dom!hwa

the boys always like to celebrate victory with their biggest cheerleader after a game

✲ kim hongjoong

bonnie & clyde | 2.5k — dom gang leader!hongjoong ft. ateez

there's something so primal and enticing about your leader taking a life to protect the crew at all costs

drabbles: 1▪︎2

✲ park seonghwa

headache | 1.7k — soft gentle dom!seonghwa

you've been suffering from headaches recently but your boyfriend knows exactly how to get rid of them

damnation of a saint | 13.7k — sin of lust! x nun!reader

life is dull when you are an immortal being such as seonghwa. every day is the same and you live (or rather, merely exist) through the times crushed by the burden of boredom. until something new comes along in the form of a kind, compassionate and righteous newly ordained nun. and so the sin of lust makes it his personal mission to corrupt the purest of souls: yours.

✲ jeong yunho

the drill | 6.8k — nerd dom leaning switch!yunho

yunho cant seem to pick up anyone at the club. for two main reasons, two problems if you will. the first one: his rizz level is negative and the second one... well it's bigger. much, much bigger. a huge problem wooyoung has named "the drill"

behind the mask | 2.7k — bf!yunho

it's halloween night and your sweet golden retriever boyfriend wants to have a little harmless fun

✲ kang yeosang

daddy's little trooper | 2.4k — sweet loving dom!yeosang

after a torrid night with your boyfriend you wake up hungry for a nutrious breakfast but yeosang is just insatiable

streaming: cloud 9 | 1.7k — streamer!au, hard dom!yeosang

you decide to test your boyfriend's nerves while he's live streaming

pretty in pink | 1k — gentle dom!yeosang

your boyfriend just thinks pink suits you very much and loves to make you blush by all means

✲ choi san

incubus: coming of age | 11.3k — fanstasy!au, dom incubus!san

being in love with your boss, doctor jeong yunho, is a nightmare. unlike this dream you're having right now of him gently kissing you in the middle of the night. but something feels off. doctor jeong doesn't quite sound like himself...

✲ song mingi

partition | 2k — gentle dom husband!mingi ft. jongho

finally back from a long business trip your husband takes you to a very nice date to celebrate. but after so long apart you are not sure you can keep your hands to yourself on your way to the restaurant

skinny dipping | 2.6k — college!au, swim team captain dom!mingi, pinkgi ♡

your boyfriend he is so focussed on training for the upcoming championship he forgot tonight was supposed to be date night but maybe he can make it up to you

facetime | 1.1k — switch!mingi, switch!reader, established relationship

mingi has a small favor to ask you real quick

lovers on the sun | 4.8k — cowboy!mingi, friends to strangers to lovers, outlaw!au

you never understood why mingi chose that life. chose to be an outcast, a loveless bandit. over the years you came to terms with it. you got married, you grew. but when the outlaw finds himself gravely wounded his instincts drag him back to you. to the person he's willing to sacrifice everything for

booksmart | 3.1k — sub leaning!mingi, tutor!reader, uni au

maybe mingi didn’t make the smart choice picking a stem major? because the classes proves themselves to be rather difficult especially when mingi as to learn about the female anatomy without having any “field knowledge” on the subject. but as his tutor it’s your duty to help him study, by all means necessary. 

✲ jung wooyoung

milkshake | 3k — sub business man!woo, trophy wife!reader, office!au

wooyoung needs to impress the ceo and chairman to get the newly open cfo position and for that he's planning to go all out, show off everything he's got. including his precious, stunning and bewitching wife: you.

✲ choi jongho

break up with him | 3.5k — angsty, mean dom!jongho, ft. yunho

jongho is tired to be the bad guy. tired of acting like he doesn't care when you kiss him. tired of lying to his best friend. and he's ready to put everything on the line. he wants you for himself only.

drabbles: 1

[littlemissmiller]

Billy the kid but with kind of a Bonnie and Clyde action going on yk? Like partner in crime sorta thing

Yes ma’am…

𝒥𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐻𝒾𝓂

Pairing: billy the kid x fem! reader

Summary: You and Billy have been tasked by Mr. Tunstall to break into the Lincoln jail to get some of his men out. In the thrill of the night and in anticipation of the war ahead, Billy finally tells you how he really feels.

Warning: 21+ (drinking), established relationship, smut, fluff, semi-public sex, p in v, no pullout

Word count: 3.5k

A/N: hey there! i was so excited to get to writing this (and apologize for getting it to the asker so late) but i wrote this before i saw the newest episode and wow it couldn’t have come at a better time…what a sweet little story y’all and I was absolutely clutch my pearls and wine watching that man take his shirt off like y’all 🥵 so i hope you all enjoy I can’t wait for next weeks episode ahhh ♥︎

≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫ ≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫ ≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫

You knew breaking these men out if prison wouldn’t be easy. But you had Billy with you and he had dedicated his life to Mr. Tunstall. As you sit with him and plan you can’t help but feel anxious.

“I reckon we head out after dawn, ride into town and wait until shift change, then we’ll make our move…”

You nod and give your boyfriend a halfhearted smile.

“What’s wrong darling?”

“Just nervous…I mean I know it would be a great deal to free these men, but it’s so risky Billy”

He looks at you more intensely now and scoots closer to you. He trails his finger across your chin and turns you to face him.

“Hey…we got this. Besides you know I’ve done it before…” he chuckles

You nod and smile.

“I know, it’s just I haven’t…”

Billy leans in and gives you a quick kiss, his soft lips slowly melting your anxiety away.

“I promise no matter what you’re my priority. If you get hurt, I will have to leave them men behind to get you help. I won’t let you get hurt though okay?”

You nod and he kisses you again. You knew how much Billy cares for you. And you knew that he could practically have any girl in town. Even a nice proper lady, who wore the big day dresses and rode their carriage into town. You saw how those women looked at him. How they would die to be rebellious and show Billy off on their arm. But they didn’t get him like that. You did. Even though you were more of a cowgirl yourself and that’s really why Billy found you the most beautiful and worthy of his affections. Because you weren’t like most ladies your age.

You’re not dainty and frail. Billy saw that from the moment he met you. The way you confidently held yourself and spoke up when you thought things should be done differently. And your beautiful gaze that left him frozen and intimidated. He was in total awe of you from that day on. Yet, as you sit here with him you allow yourself to be vulnerable and scared. As he rubs his thumb over your cheekbone you try to understand why you feel so nervous.

Maybe because up until now you and the rest of Tunstall’s crew had been operating within the law and were not about causing trouble in town, but with Jesse Evans and his gang working on behalf of Murphy, things had been getting worse. So now you and the crew were being forced to turn to more violent means to protect the farmers and the county. Especially now that Billy was on Tunstall’s side.

“I’m glad you ended up joining our crew, Billy…”

“I’m glad I did too.” He smiles

As the sunsets, Billy is inside the ranch, cleaning off his gun and checking the barrel. You find him and bring him a bowl of ham and beans.

“I reckon we should eat before we go.” You recommend handing him a bowl and some cornbread.

He takes it and smiles. You pull up a stool next to him and sit. The row of you eat in relative silence, watching as the sun disappears behind the horizon. Soon enough, Billy stands up and heads into the kitchen putting his bowl in the sink. He washes his hands and you follow suit.

Your stomach is full with both a good meal and butterflies and you saddle up your horse. The air is colder now and Billy slips on his maroon cardigan and dawns his hat. You pull your jacket on as well and pull your hair back. As you get onto your horse, he helps you hold your hand. His fingers linger on your own for a moment.

“I always thought you looked so beautiful when you rode…”

“You just like how my body bounces…” you smirk

“That’s true, but I’m starting from where I am now, you look like an angel…here” he states handing you a bandana “eventually we’ll need to cover our faces.”

You blush and wrap the bandana around your neck. He hops up on his horse and ties his own bandana around his neck. You and him waste no more time and ride off into Lincoln. The ride itself is only about thirty minutes which allows you to get your nerves out and gain some confidence. As you and Billy approach Lincoln county, stop and look out onto the town. You slowly begin to approach, making sure to sneak in closer to the jail to make the getaway smoother. You look for a close enough spot to hide the horses. The jail is on full view now, close enough to walk to from the hill you and Billy are perched on.

“Ok when the guards leave, we’ll move in. Then we only gotta deal with the warden inside which shouldn’t be too difficult. But you’re gonna help me then ok? I’ll wait around out back and I need you to draw him from his desk. There won’t be any guards outside for at least three minutes, but that’s all we have got?” Billy explains

“I got it.”

“Then once you draw him away, I’ll Come in and we’ll lure him into a cell. I did the same thing down in Mexico. Worked like a charm.”

“That was one person, not two” you remember”

“We can handle it.”

You and him, sit on your horses, and look upon the jail, waiting and waiting and waiting until finally the guards outside begin to move toward the fence to leave.

“Ok let’s go.” Billy instructs.

You and him trot down the hill, keeping a slow enough pace as to not trip or draw attention to yourself. Once you reach the fence you dig out for a pair of wire cutters you had brought along. You cut the fence enough so you and Billy have enough space to slip in. He runs to the back of the jailhouse and you run up to the front. Billy hadn’t given you exact instructions on how to distract the warden, so you decide to get creative. You walk up and frantically pound on the door. You hear footsteps and make it look like you’ve been crying and out of breath.

“Help, please help me!” You plea

The warden steps out confused, looking around for the outside guardsmen.

“I’m so sorry to take you away from you you post sir, it’s just I got into Lincoln and have been running, my horse is wounded, this man is chasing me…” you cry

“A man chasing ya? What ya mean” he says, face scrunched up as he steps outside.

Meanwhile, Billy has broken in and you watch as he approaches the warden from behind, eyes peeking under the brim of his hat, bandana pulled up to hide his face. He clicks his gun at the back of the man’s head and you pull up your own bandana and pull your gun on the man. He frantically looks around for the outside guards, but no one has come to claim the post.

“Get back inside” Billy sneers and the warden listens, turning as you both follow him, gun still raised. Billy glances at you for a moment then back at the man, poking the gun to his head and pushing him inside the cell.

“I’ll go find our men… stay with him.” Billy instructs and leaves you alone with the warden.

You try not to focus on him, but make sure your gun has his full attention. A few moments pass and Billy is still not back. Then the warden sees the new night shift stroll in and begins to yell. You quickly knock him out with the butt if your gun and Billy rushes downstairs.

“We gotta go.” He urges, the other men following him out the back. The shooting starts and the guardsmen seem to notice things aren’t right. They start to yell and chase after you as Billy and the men run up the hill. You follow behind, but fall and trip over a rock. You scurry back to your feet, but one of the guards catches you, knocking you back on your feet. You cry out.

“Ahh help!”

“Go get the horses from over the hill!” Billy instructs the men, running towards you.

The man holds you down and you struggle to get away, kicking and cursing at the man.

“They send a little thing like you to do a man’s job hmm? Guess Tunstall was never a smart man.”

“Get off me you pig.”

“Shut up bitch, you’re going to go in this jailhouse now.” He stands you up and starts to drag you off

“Hey!” Billy shouts “You better hand her over!”

The man stops and whips you around. He holds you against his chest. His slimy lips press up against your ear as he holds you tight against his chest.

“I’m taking this pretty thing to the jailhouse and next I’ll take you.”

Billy marches forward, drawing and raising his gun.

“Let. Her. Go” he grits and the man merely laughs. Billy waist no time and shoots him in the shoulder, then another one to his thigh causing him to release you and fall down. The guard wasn’t dead, just injured enough to keep him away. Then the other guards catch up as well and start to shoot at Billy and the rest of the crew as the other men come back with the horses. They get off and start shooting.

You start to shoot too, taking cover behind the horses, while Billy tries to shelter you. He takes aim at the guards firing and trying to avoid the returning bullets.

“C’mon we gotta go!” One of the men yells out. Billy takes a few more shots and in the distance sees the sheriff riding towards the jailhouse.

“Shit!” Billy curses and you take one last shot. It hits another guard on the thigh and before you realize you’re being hoisted up onto the saddle by Billy. You and him ride together on his horse, while the two men take the other horse.

Out of breath, Billy continues to check on you the entire ride back asking if you’re okay or hurt. Once back at Tunstall’s ranch, Billy helps you off the horse and inside. The rest of the gang are delighted to see Billy and you got the boys out.

“Good work Billy.” Charlie slaps his back.

The rest of the group heads inside while you put away the horses. Billy waits for you. You walk back to him once the horses are tied up. He pulls down your bandana, and you smile.

“You’re a real cowgirl ya know that.”

“I ain’t half the shot you are though.”

“Is that a requirement?” He asks as you wrap your arms around his waist

“Not necessarily, but don’t change the fact you are one.”

“Well then…Mr. Bonney…” you tease “I guess you are too then?” You kiss him deeply, placing your hands flat on his chest and leaning on your toes slightly. He holds your face in his hands, returning the kiss with equal fervor. You could have stayed out there all night with your lips on his. The warm night draped around you like a blanket and the warmth of Billy’s mouth turning up the heat. He moves his hands to your own waist, pulling you closer.

“Hey Billy!” Charlie call out

Billy pulls back, whipping his head around

“Sorry…Tunstall wants to see you”

Billy nods and Charlie heads back inside. Billy turns to look back at you and you both head inside. You join the rest of the men, grab a drink, and make conversation with Charlie. Billy heads into Mr. Tunstall’s office and closes the door. Soon enough he comes back and you excuse yourself from the conversation as he walks back outside.

“Hey!” You call to him “What did Tunstall say”

“Just taking next steps.” He states to you briefly. You could tell something is off and you touch his shoulder

“Billy…”

“Tunstall says a war is coming…that Jesse and the rest of Murphy’s gang will come for us sooner rather than later. He wants me to be prepared. To help lead us.”

“Oh Billy…” you rub his back.

He moves to stand in front of you and smiles, pushing your hair back. He looks past you, takes your hand and leads you to the side of the ranch. He looks around before pinning you up against the side of the house and kissing you deeply. You return his passions, moving your mouth with his. He grabs your waist and you fling your arms around his neck. He kisses you harder and your head bounces against the wood, causing you to grunt.

“Billy, sweetheart, what’s up.”

“I just…I just don’t want to lose you in this war. I feel like I got too close today. “

“You ain’t gonna lose me Billy. If anything I should be saying that about you…”

“I-I love you…”

It was the first time he’d said it openly to you. Sure you two knew it. The unspoken affections and unconditional care for each other. You hadn’t been together long, but you knew it was true.

“I love you too William Bonney..” you whisper, pressing your mouth back onto his with a searing kiss.

You love how soft and encompassing his mouth feels and as his passions overtake him, he’s practically consuming you. He holds your face gently through, not wanting to be too aggressive. You love it. The way in which he holds your face. The way he can’t seem to get enough of you. You love feeling overwhelmed by him. He pulls back, asking a silent permission if he can continue. You give him a devilish smile and take his wrist, leading him away from the side of the house. He trots after you and you playfully run towards the barn.

You open the door and look around. It’s empty because the horses are tied up outside and for once doesn’t smell. Billy catches up to you, swings you around, and pushes you up against the wooden beam. Cupping your face, he picks back up where he left off. You moan against him and his hands begin to explore your body, sending waves of pleasure through your veins. He smiles and gasps against your mouth, pulling back to admire you.

“You know you’re the only girl I’ve ever said that to…” he breathes

“Really…”

“Really… and I mean it” he smiles

He can’t help but kiss you again. He loves the way your mouth feels against his, loves the way you can’t help but moan for him, and loves how you love him back. You hold the back of his neck, fingers tracing the back of his neck hairs. After a few moments of you and him like this you pull back and Billy dives in for your neck, holding your jaw and the base of it as he starts to suck and nibble. You hold his head against you, hips starting to move against his pelvis, building up more and more of the heat that was coursing through your body. You look around and spot Mr. Tunstall’s empty stagecoach. You push back from the banister, holding his face and he continues to kiss you. He stumbles forward and you look behind, eyeing the stagecoach once again. You pull away and pull him by his shirt to make him follow you.

You bite your lip, glancing at the stagecoach . That’s all you have to do for Billy to know exactly what you’re saying to him. He gives you a boyish smirk that turns into a soft chuckle. He starts to unbutton his shirt as you pull him back more and more until you both hit the doors. You open it and slide in. There isn’t much room, but you and Billy manage.

“You really want to do this here” he breathes

“Ain’t like we are one for following rules…now are we Mr. Bonney.” You tease, loving to throw around his last name like that.

“Fuck darling…come here.” He leans back down and starts to undo your pants. As you work your mouth against his, you fiddle with the rest of buttons on his shirt and then his suspenders. Billy starts to undress you as well, undoing the buttons and pulling your pants down. He slides your bloomers off as well, and then works to take your blouse off. Meanwhile, you’ve successfully rid him of his shirt, leaving the top half of his body bare for you. You admire his toned body, glad that his years of hard labor are gifting you with the sight before you. He tends to go for the top part of your undergarments until you're completely exposed to him.

Billy and you have been intimate before, but with things starting to heat up in Lincoln, you and Billy have found much time in the last week or so. And especially now that he’s declared his love for you, you’re both all too eager. As he kisses you, his hands cup your breast, the moonlight shading your cleavage perfectly. He starts to massage it, slowly, but not too gentle. You work to undone his pants as he works you, sliding them off, and he eventually wiggles out of them and kicks them off. He’s half hard, and you reach for his length, pumping him slowly. He reciprocates your actions drawing his hand down to your core, the feather light feeling of his fingertips tracing your figure.

He starts rubbing you once he gets his hand in-between your legs. Billy can’t decide on if he wants to kiss you or watch you as you come undone for him. He goes back and forth in between the two, your melodic moans filling the cramped stagecoach. He slowly gets more and more hard and he wiggles his hips closer to your own. You giggle ever so girlishly.

“This feels so different…”

“A good different?” He asks

“Mhmm…” you nod. “It's a little dangerous. I like it.”

“Because we can get caught” he smirks

You bite your lip “I wouldn’t mind getting caught with the man I love.”

With that he smiles, starts to kiss you again and slowly pushes himself inside. He feels so incredible and full. He bottoms up and looks down at you. He pushes some loose baby hairs away from your face and gasps. You flatten your hands against his chest at first, feeling his clean, smooth skin, before wrapping them around his neck. He starts to move and you draw your legs further apart and towards you. He rocks in you, picking up his pace, trying not to move the stagecoach.

Intimate moments were always good with him. It’s safe to say that Billy knows what he is doing when it comes to pleasing women. But sometimes about having him now felt like it was for the first time all over. Maybe it was the thrill of getting caught or maybe it was the fact that now you know for sure this man, this unbelievably handsome man, loves you.

He ruts into you deep, causing you to grunt and cling to him tighter. He moves his hips more, faster adding to the sensations of your pleasure. You raise your leg up and wrap it around his waist. He grunts, the pressure on his back pushing him deeper in you. He moans against you, his mouth falling to your jawline and neck again. He props himself up more in his hand and moves his other hand down to rub your clit. You buck your hips against his hand, only adding to your pleasure. He grins against your neck, picking up both the speed of his hips and fingers.

“Fuck fuck fuck…Billy… ya gonna make me cum…”

“Please cum baby. Cum on my cock fuck…”

The stagecoach begins to rock more. The heat pooling in your stomach builds and burns your core. You love the thrill of being intimate with Billy like this. The idea of someone finding you and him like this, walking in, while Billy is filling you up with pleasure. A few more thrusts and you’re finished. You clench down on his length, moan into his neck and cling onto him tight.

Soon enough, he’s spent himself, thrusting into you until he stops. His thick white cum coats the inside of your walls, filling you up in a new way. He stays in you for a moment, gazing into your eyes and catching his breath. He rests his sweaty forehead against your own, painting He kisses you softly, lips melting to your own.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” He whispers

You smile at his words, holding him tight. You never wanted this to end. From here on out you knew, it would be just you and Billy. No matter what.

꧁✵❈✵ ꧂

[wingedhallows]

my choice; sirius black

pairing: sirius black x reader | 2.3k words plot: nothing was ever choice, so helping the order and and finding your way back to the love of your life is finally your choice. authors note: hi hi, so this was requested by my dear scarlett @arwensloanebarnes & I'm so happy to have finally written it. I hope you like it, even if i've put my own little twist on it. love u & thank you for always throwing ideas and words of motivation towards me <3

navigation

“I want to break up.” His kind, lovely eyes now glared at her in disbelief. His arm slacked off the doorframe. His demeanor changed, his coolness gone. You watched him crumble, watched him break. His mouth opened and he didn’t say a word, your gaze wandered to his feet.

The shame washed over you like a cold shower. “Break up?” You couldn’t look at him, the man you loved to the moon and back, the man you would die for. That’s exactly why you were doing this, why you had to push him away.

“What the fuck do you mean?” He barked as he took a step towards you.

“I want to end our relationship.” You spoke, voice without emotion. He stared you down, hands in fists.

“End? What-what the fuck, you can’t just end our relationship like this, we’re Bonny & Clyde, we’re ride or die, we’re made for each other… we belong with each other.” He tried, his arms flailing around in anguish. You bit the inside of your cheek in hopes of stopping yourself from bursting out in tears.

“Not anymore, Black. I don’t date blood traitors.”

He stumbled back, his face in an expression you never hoped to see. It tore you apart, your chest felt tight as you watched him. “What?” You took a breath and grabbed your bag.

“Take care, Sirius.” Before you could turn back and tell him why you acted this way, why you had to hurt him in such a horrific way and take everything back, you dragged yourself through the door and left him behind.

You stood hidden behind a trash container, sparks flying and grunts audible. Damario and Vincius, two fellow Death Eaters, gleamed with confidence as they had cornered Albus Dumbledore in an alleyway. Their wands were held high, smirks on their faces.

“The Dark Lord will award us dearly, Vincius.” Damario spat, yellow teeth faced your way.

“I don’t think he will, Damario.” Albus tried as he popped a lemon drop in his mouth. He fished his wand from his long clothing and without a word spoken, his wand unleashed a spell so powerful that the both of them flew several feet. Damario grabbed Vincius’ arm and in a flash they were gone. 

Albus didn’t put his wand away as he turned towards you, eyes set on your frame.

“You can come out now.” He said and you cursed yourself, of course he would feel your presence. You tucked your wand away and raised your arms.

“You’re more guarded with me?” You tried, his face didn’t change though, your joke fell through.

“Of course, Damario and Vincius aren’t remotely as skilled as you are, Y/N.” You gave him a smile and stepped further towards him.

“Thank you, Headmaster.” He frowned and took a step towards you, wand still raised. “What brings you here, Y/N?” He paused to eye you.

“Do you wish to murder me as well?” The smile vanished from your face and you shook your head. “No, I do not wish to murder you.” You paused as well as you let your arms fall to your side.

“Then what is it?” You sighed and fished a small container from your jacked, and pulled your wand from your other.

“I wish to help you.” He frowned and cocked his head. “You mean betray your master?” You chuckled and shook your head.

“I do not have a master, nothing of what happened with me or my friends was my choice. I wish to help you, help you defeat Voldemort and make decisions of my own.” He lowered his wand and took a step towards you.

“I’ll show you.”

Without hesitation you raised your wand to your temple and pulled the desired memory from your mind and bottled it up for Albus to take. He took the bottle from you and left you behind, his form vanished with a worp of his surroundings.

You pulled the pack of cigarettes from your pocket and lit it with the lighter Sirius had gifted you on your sixteenth birthday. You eyed the small object and sighed, you’d make everything right.

Starting with this, with your memories. Would Albus believe you? He needed to, those memories were reason enough, right?

“We gave you so much freedom, so much space to become a respectable young woman, a great witch but what do you do?” Your mother paused, wand raised at you.

“We feed you, we provide you with education and a roof over your head and you go around whoring yourself out to a blood traitor!?” A woman, you didn’t know, held you by your neck, wand pressed into your flesh.

“You think you can go against us? Against the ways of the noble Devereux household? Every member of this family will serve the Dark Lord and his ways, my dear daughter.” Her fingers crawled into your arm as you tried to get away, desperately.

Another man and your father came to your mothers side. You stared at your father, tears in your eyes as he watched you.

“Stop fighting.” He tried to calm you down. You didn’t listen, your body twisted and wound with as much effort as you could manage. Screams and tears left your face, desperate to set an end to this madness.

Your mothers cold fingers grabbed your cheeks, nothing but hatred visible in her old face.

“Stop fighting it, dear. It was never your decision to make.”

Without wasting another minute, she placed her wand on the soft flesh of your lower arm and branded you, damned you.

Albus had sent his phoenix with a letter. It had said to invite you to a meeting, to announce your plans of being a double agent and to apologize for having thought ill of you.

You had learnt the hard way to not take others' words personally.

“They’ll insult you, take your appearance as an insult.” He spoke as he tapped his wand on the door of Sirius’ parents house.

His parents were arrested not too long ago, the house was now empty. You sighed as you watched the house appear through rumbles. Why exactly this damned house?

“I’d be disappointed if not.” You sighed as you flipped the cigarette away. Your hair moved in the subtle cold wind and your heart beat like it’ll break down any minute from all the effort.

Albus didn’t answer and stepped inside, you followed him. Your coat found its way onto the overflowing coat hanger. The dark hallway seemed too familiar, making your heart skip a beat. The old wizard walked forward, he was greeted with bright hello’s and smiles.

You kept your head high, hands shoved in your jeans as you followed Albus into the kitchen. Lily threw her hand to her mouth and James shoved her behind himself. Remus watched you, body motionless. You didn’t look his way, you couldn’t.

“Albus, what is the meaning behind this?” Minerva questioned, hand propped on the dark wooden table.

“Why would you bring a Death Eater in our midst? What the fuck are you doing here?” James threw your way. You stood behind the headmaster as your mouth shifted into a grin.

“Lovely to see as well, James.” You paused, fingers playing with your lighter inside your jacket.

“How’s Harry?” James' face contorted into hatred as Sirius raised his wand. “Don’t you take his name in your filthy mouth.” Your eyes wandered to the man you missed the most. He looked good, tired, broken but strangely enough, good.

“My bad.” You stopped as Albus eyed you, demanding you to finish whatever this was.

Albus sat down, you did as well. “Y/N offered to act as a double agent.” He paused and took a sip from his cup.

“After careful consideration, she has proven herself to be trustworthy.” Sirius huffed in disbelief, his wand still tightly clasped in his right hand.

“How are you so sure?” Sirius spoke, eyes in slits. You couldn’t fight the urge to smirk. He still had it, the fire.

“I saw Y/N’s memories.” The room stilled of all motion, attention once again on you.

“What memories?” Albus shook his head at Sirius' question. “Not my place to tell, Sirius.” He eyed you down and left it at that.

You closed the room to the restroom, turning off the light. Someone’s hand on your elbow as he dragged you towards the living room. The back of his head gave him away.

“What do you want, Sirius?” He closed the door and turned around. “What do I want?” He spat, his hand on the cabinet by the door.

“What do you want?” You crossed your arms, face in an emotionless mask. “I want to help you.” He shook his head, his lips formed in a cruel snarl.

“Don’t give me this crap, help us? You turned your back on us, you became one of them.” Your eyes left his face, shame crawling up your back.

“I’m sorry.” You simply stated. He swallowed, eyes leaving your face. You were never good at arguing when you were at fault, especially not with Sirius.

“You’re sorry? Alice and Frank were tortured into insanity, Y/N!” He yelled, face turning red.

“Marlene was murdered, her whole family wiped out!” He threw his fist on the couch.

“Our friends died, butchered like animals and you’re sorry? Sorry doesn’t cut it, Y/N.” He came towards you.

“You ripped my heart out and became one of those, those disgusting vile creatures, like it was nothing to you!” He was now yelling in your face.

“You disgust me.” He spat. You swallowed and watched him walk away from you. His hand was on the handle as you spoke.

“It wasn’t my choice.” 

He turned around, face hard and mad. You looked away, eyes already collecting tears.

“Nothing ever was my choice.” His eyebrows furrowed.

“What do you mean?” You let your hands fall to your side as you looked at him once again.

“I didn’t become one of them.” You paused to take a breath.

“They made me one of them.”

He watched you, his eyebrows still furrowed.

“Made you?” You tried to fight the tears but one of them left your eyes either way.

“My mother had me pinned to the ground.” He held onto the couch as his eyes widened.

“To brand me as one of their own.” You pushed some hair behind your ear as you took a deep breath.

“I had no choice but to belong to one side. Reaching out to Albus was my choice, betraying Voldemort was my choice and being a double agent was my choice, this is for once my choice and I’ll take responsibility for it.” 

You wiped the tears off your face. “I understand that you hate me, that I broke your heart and that I destroyed our friends lifes and I’ll take that guilt of not having saved Alice, Frank or Marlene but I’ll do my best to save Harry, Lily and James. To save Remus and You. I’ll do whatever it takes, so please, let me make this right.” You spoke, voice strained.

He watched you, eyes glossy.

“Why’d you have to push me away?” You gave him a sad smile.

“I had to keep you safe.” He nodded and turned to leave. Just as he opened the door he spoke again.

“I won’t stand in your way.” You didn’t answer.

“Oh fuck, don’t you die on me, Nicolai.” You cursed as you dragged the man with you, his blood made it impossible to keep a good grip on him.

“Fuck, fuck.” You cursed over and over again, his body almost limp. With the last strength you could muster, you aparated to a place you knew.

Street was dimly lit, the air was cold and the blood stuck to you like a second skin.

With a huff you sat Nicolai down next to the stairs leading up to the front stairs. You smashed your hand against the dark door and waited, hands hanging limb at your sides.

The door opened and before you stood a half smiling Sirius. His eyes widened as he took your appearance in. His hands flew to your shoulders, your waist, arms.

“Are you hurt?” He threw at you as he inspected you. “Not mine.” You managed as you pointed your finger at the unconscious form on the ground. “Good.”

“James, Remus!” Sirius yelled as he pushed himself past you. You leaned against the door frame, the pain in your shoulder slowly fading in again.

“Come in.” Lily spoke, her hand held out for you. You looked at her and reluctantly gave in. She guided you inside, sat you on Sirius’ sofa and brought you a cup of water.

“Sirius told us everything.” You nodded but kept your gaze on the ground. “We understand.” She said before she left you alone.

You downed the water and tried to get rid of the blood on your hands which had already stained your nails. Sirius made his way into the living room as he sat down on the chair which you had given him as a christmas present three years ago.

“He’ll make it.” He said as he pushed a cigarette between his lips. He held the pack out for you and without much thinking you took one.

He lit it for you and just like nothing of the past years had happened, you sat there.

“I didn’t know where else to go.” You spoke. “It’s fine.” He paused to take a drag.

“I’m glad you came to me.” You looked at him, a sad smile on your lips.

“I never stopped loving you.”

It had left your lips without much thought.

“Neither have I.”

He said, his lips in a small smile.

“Thank you for keeping me safe.” He spoke again and you chuckled, trying to keep as much ash in the ashtray as possible.

“Always.”

His hand found yours as his thumb brushed the back of yours.

This was your choice and it felt like the right one.

[amoreva]

Hellooo helloo!! Could I have a request please for Luke Castellan x reader where idk just something really angst where she joins him betraying her own half brother Percy (yess she’s a Poseidon kid) but it’s just that their love is too precious for the world 🥺🥺

Thank youu so muchhhh mwahhh 💖🌷🎀

TOO LATE

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pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader

summary: love triumphs when your dad claims your half-brother and you.

warnings: not proofread, tlt spoilers, angst, frustration, revolves on reader’s emotions rather than the relationship

a/n: I feel like i twisted this request wrong. lmk how you like it, but i thought it’d be nice to have the reader’s emotions be the focus instead of the relationship.

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

Wherever Clyde goes, Bonnie follows.

You’ve found yourself to be a permanent resident of Hermes Cabin. Another year goes by which meant another year of being unclaimed. Multitude of wishes and prayers are wasted: at this point those wishes, offerings and prayers look like pathetic begging.

You’ll forever be an unclaimed camper.

And you’ve accepted that. If you had been claimed, then you wouldn’t get the privilege of Travis and Connor stealing ice cream when you cover them or the privilege of Chris coming to you about his girl problems or the privilege of sharing a bunk with Luke Castellan.

What Chiron and Mr. D don’t know won’t hurt them.

It is a nice turnout because while you share a bed with the love of your life, another kid doesn’t have to sleep on the crowded floor.

Besides the fact you weren’t claimed, everything at camp was great. You didn’t feel alone or isolated anymore. You felt at home at Camp. You had a wonderful boyfriend and even greater friends (as corny as it sounds).

Until, Percy Jackson arrived at camp. Now, don’t twist this in the wrong way—Percy is just the sweetest kid and you were sympathetic to him losing him mom.

It was during Capture the Flag when you realized everything you knew was gone. You couldn’t resent Percy for that. Only your dad.

Luke triumphantly held the red team’s flag as the blue team retreated to the lake’s beach. Celebration paired with cheers and hollers. A proud smile as one of the campers hooked their arm around your shoulder, screaming your ear off.

Some of the campers were making a list of demands that the Red Team had to accommodate to when Percy’s shouting interrupted all of that.

You took off your helmet to see Percy in the lake. The culprit, Annabeth. Athena’s daughter was always two steps ahead of everyone, in Luke’s words. She seems to know something everyone else didn’t.

Luke looked distraught and shocked when it happened. A glowing trident hovering over Percy’s head. An outward statement claiming he is Poseidon’s son.

Yet, that same glowing trident was above your head. You felt your throat close up. So long…so long and now your dad claims you when Percy arrives.

It was common knowledge that Hades, Zeus and Poseidon made a pact to not father any more half-bloods due to destruction and war and whatever. But, what now? Poseidon claimed his son and daughter. For what? To boast? To showboat?

Questions kept ringing in your head. The life you knew gone. No more ice cream from Travis and Connor. No more information of Chris’ recent crushes. No more…sharing a bunk with your boyfriend.

“Poseidon.” Chiron trotted over to Percy. He gave you a smile. You were claimed! It’s what you always hoped and dreamed for. You should be ecstatic. Right? “Earthshaker, Stormbringer, your godly parent.”

It was inevitable. You weren’t destined to destroy or aid the world because you weren’t sixteen anymore. You doubt you were destined for anything.

Was this some fucked up way of your pops telling you he still cares? He still sees you? That he’s there for you?

It took him so many fucking years to claim you as his.

And the fact he did it when his son arrived at Camp Half-Blood. Did he want a boy to be the prophetic savior of the world?

Oh, so he wants to say he’s been there for you this whole time? Luke has been there. Cabin Eleven has been there, not your deadbeat pops. It wasn’t a surprise you joined Kronos so quickly.

You knew Luke was succumbing to the nightmares that plagued him every night. The voice in his head to revive the Titan. Now, you didn’t have anything against the other gods or Percy. It really was just some ol’ rebelling against your dear old dad.

Percy was tense staying still. The scorpion on his knee. He looked at it wearily. Luke was explaining his reasoning for betraying Camp. You couldn’t blame him. After so many years of neglect and the spirals his mother went through, you felt he had every right to be angry. As did you.

“The gods are my enemy, Percy. Poseidon made a mistake—he made a mistake by neglecting your sister.” Luke pointed Backbiter at the boy.

“Luke…” You placed a hand on his shoulder. His tense shoulders seemingly relaxed.

He let his arm fall to his side. He looked over his shoulder at you. A mix of a soft and intense gaze. Luke only wanted to defend your dignity, your honor, your glory. He thought it was unforgivable that Poseidon would claim you that day of all the days you prayed and wished and begged.

He’s seen how desperate you’ve gotten. How many tears shed. How many times he’s had to comfort you because you don’t feel like you belonged. Kronos would provide a New World. A new Golden Age where you didn’t have to suffer with a shitty father anymore.

Your palm held his scarred cheek. He met your lips in a soft kiss. Everything would be okay if you were with one another. Love is a very powerful thing to wield after all.

“I’m sorry, Percy.” You apologized, looking over at your half-brother. The pit scorpion on the back of his hand. “It’s…it’s nothing against you.”

You attempted to find the words to explain your situation. Luke’s calloused hand held yours gently. It was time to go. To flee from Camp.

“It’s our father that I hate, not you. You—you have to understand.” You hastily explained. “He left me neglected for year. I was content staying at Hermes Cabin and—he decided to claim me when I finally had a place here.”

“The world will remember us, Percy. Olympus will remember not to fuck with us—our dads will remember not to neglect any other half-blood.” Luke stated and twisted Backbiter in his hand. A determined glint in his eyes. Kronos’ calling him away to revive him already.

“Goodbye, Percy. This is the new Golden Age. You won’t be apart of it.” Luke slashed an arc with Backbiter, creating a rip through time and space to travel. The scorpion lunged.

You hesitated a moment, seeing your half-brother in agony. Luke told him sixty seconds. He’ll make it. He’s Percy Jackson after all.

You couldn’t delay your departure any longer. Luke needed someone by his side. To keep his sanity with Kronos calling out to him so often.

Wherever Clyde goes, Bonnie follows.

You departed from Camp, not knowing that would be the last time you se your beloved home.

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

[theogonies]

what they look for in a partner ft. the cast of touchstarved

characters: ais, mhin, vere, kuras, & leander

word count: 2k

content warnings: some suggestive elements but nothing explicit, mentions of corruption kinks (ais), brat taming (kuras), and light exhibitionism (vere and leander), leander is a little emotionally manipulative

AIS.

Considering his relationships with MC and Vere, it's not exactly a secret that Ais has a thing for brats. He loves teasing, and wants a partner who can keep up with him, giving as much as they get. He's all about the thrill of the chase, learning exactly which buttons to press to get you flustered--so don't make it too easy on him.

Surprisingly, he's not usually the one to make the first move. He'll flirt, but struggles to take initiative when things start to feel too real for his comfort.

He finds people who can find a cool head in moments of crisis insanely attractive. Whether it's pulling him back when he's about to pick a stupid fight or constructing a perfect alibi on the spot when you find yourself in trouble, the contrast between your self-control and his impulsivity always gets him itching to push your limits even further.

Humans and Monsters alike, he's grown accustomed to the absolute devotion of his followers. So being around someone who isn't constantly bowing and scraping to him is a refreshing change of pace.

He still greatly values loyalty, and it's something that he's more than willing to return--he's a ride or die type of guy. What he's not interested in is empty flattery; telling it like it is is, in his eyes, a much more valuable kind of devotion than total obedience.

I definitely think he's got a bit of a corruption kink, and is drawn to people with a more innocent, even naive personality--easier to get them flustered that way. More importantly, though, he enjoys the interplay between his impulsivity and his partner's willingness to stick by their personal code of ethics, no matter how impractical. For all the teasing he does, he has a very deep and genuine admiration for people with strong moral principles and sense of self.

The only thing he loves more than drawing out your hedonistic side is knowing that he's the only one who can do it. It's a very specific, psychological kind of possessiveness, knowing that you want him enough to show him the greedy, impure side of yourself that you hide so carefully from the rest of the world.

On the other hand, narcs are a major turn off. It's one thing to tell him off for fucking up, and another entirely to get others involved. He fantasizes about a Bonnie and Clyde, us against the world type of love.

MHIN.

Another one who isn't particularly subtle about what it takes to get them heated. Mhin loves it when you can keep up with their acerbic personality. Even more than sharp tongues, they're drawn to people who are physically assertive enough to follow through on their threats.

Mhin is all bark and no bite, a fact that they're very much aware of. Deep down, they desperately want to feel safe and protected. It's not exactly that they're insecure; they don't have any hang ups about their own strength. But it's exhausting to keep their guard up all the time. So, they figure that their perfect match is their perfect equal--and 90% of their bluster is just that, a test so see who's willing to break past their emotional barriers and strong enough to keep up with them.

They're a switch, and definitely have a thing for size difference. One of their biggest fantasies is dominating a partner who's bigger than themself.

One of Mhin's most immediate turn-offs is people who look too clean and polished all the time. They're enamored by scarring and callouses--basically, the physical traces of a person's life, especially those associated with hard work. They're not particularly interested in fashion or flashy clothes, either; rather than being with someone who's always up on the latest styles, they admire those who know how to make things last, and who would rather underdress than overdress.

It's not hard to get them flustered. Put them in a good ol' fashioned kabedon, whisper simple praises in their ear, and they'll absolutely melt (not that they would ever admit that to you, of course). Mhin's affection is very subtle, blink and you'll miss it (they're big on acts of service, and usually quite sneaky about it), but they like partners who are more forward than themself, whether verbally or physically.

While they are a loving partner (once you break past those oh-so-strong emotional walls), Mhin isn't a super relationship-oriented person. They have goals of their own outside of romance, and would prefer to be with someone who feels the same way, supporting each other in the pursuit of their own, independent dreams.

VERE.

It's not exactly that Vere is a commitment-phobe. When he falls for someone, he falls fast and hard, and he's never been one to be secretive about his feelings. But he views relationships of all kinds--platonic, romantic, sexual, even antagonistic--with a kind of levity that can be offputting to many. Love, to him, is a game, and he has zero interest in dropping out of the race the moment he takes the lead, so to speak.

Even in a committed, monogamous relationship, Vere is a flirt and a bit of a player--with his partner and outsiders alike. In his eyes, it's not a sign of disloyalty, but rather, a way of keeping the spark alive. Possessiveness is an immediate dealbreaker for him (although he's not opposed to a good ol' jealousy fueled romp in the sheets--that's half the fun of teasing).

Vere tends to bottom more often than he tops, but he's attracted to switches far more than he is fully dominant types. He likes having dynamic interplay in a relationship, especially sexual, and wants to be with someone that isn't content with always falling back into the same old routines.

Physical attraction is very important to Vere, although he doesn't necessarily require that his partner is conventionally attractive. He's especially drawn to unique senses of style and physical traits--a particularly intense look in a person's eyes, a scar or blemish that gives their face an interesting character, even an interesting tilt to the way they hold themself. The only thing he loves more than standing out in a crowd on his own is hanging off the arm of someone who does the same, intentionally or not.

He likes to imagine himself and his partner as a power couple--the two most powerful personas in the room, the ones that everyone else wants to either fuck or become.

While he is very attracted to confidence, there's a bit of a feedback loop here, because he's also extremely good at psyching up his partner's self-image--stick with Vere long enough, and it's hard not to see yourself as someone powerful and desirable.

Massive tit guy. 'nuff said.

KURAS.

Kuras is also attracted to oddballs and quirky types, although unlike Vere, he's not super interested in physical appearance or their ability to stick out in a crowd. He's much more drawn to interesting personalities: people with unique tics, speech patterns, responses, and the like.

His favorite part of relationships (sexual, romantic, and otherwise) is gradually learning what makes the other person tick, so unless he gets the sense that there's something interesting lingering under the surface, it can be hard to get his attention. He needs to feel like there's some kind of puzzle to be solved, and a tricky one at that.

On the other hand, once his curiosity has been captured, he's an incredibly attentive partner--even if it's not entirely unlike the kind of attention an entomologist would give a bug under the microscope.

He's also drawn to outspoken, forthright personalities to counter his more polite and subdued persona. There's something he finds incredibly amusing about a person who speaks their mind even when they know it'll get them into trouble.

For that reason, Kuras is, much like Ais, attracted to bratty types. Unlike Ais, he expects them to learn the rules at some point down the line. While his form of discipline is a gentle, cool-headed one, he still views himself as more of a teacher than a playmate.

He very much prefers to feel in control of a given situation (even if that isn't immediately obvious in the way he presents himself). It can make him stubborn, to the extent that he'll reject the advances of a person he's interested in just because he wants to be the one to confess.

While this characteristic can make him come across as rather clinical in his approach, it gets its chance to shine when paired with his detail-oriented nature. From a grand confession of love to a simple weeknight dinner date, he's extremely methodical about preparing the perfect romantic atmosphere for his partner's tastes, from the locale and decor to the scent of his cologne.

While his partner needn't necessarily come across as kind at first impression, it is deeply important to Kuras that they have a good, generous heart. All the better if he gets to be the one to make them feel safe showing it to the world.

He likes 'em a little clingy and needy, too. Independence isn't necessarily a turn-off, but he needs to feel like all the effort he puts in is appreciated, or he'll move on to some other curiosity.

LEANDER.

We all know that this man loves to flirt, and in a much more grandiose, romantic sense of the word than Vere or Ais at that. In the same way that he gets a bit of a rush putting his strength to use in a fight, he likes using his charm and good looks to get a reaction out of people.

That's not to say his teasing is ingenuine; Leander comes on strong because he knows what he's looking for, from his partner's looks and the way they carry themself in a crowded room to the way they respond to his advances. He wants to be with someone who'll fall as fast and hard as he does, and as manipulative of a tactic as it may be, he's willing to put on the mask of a romantic until he finds the one that responds in kind.

Leander doesn't play games. Once he commits himself to a person, that's it. His absolute devotion is yours, and he expects that loyalty to be returned. Some of his biggest turn-offs are people who don't seem sure of what they want, or who won't express their feelings to him straightforwardly. He'll put up with some level of shyness, but too much beating around the bush and he starts to feel more like a therapist than a partner.

Total ass man. He has no compunctions about grabbing it in public to get a rise out of you--not to mention how utterly shameless he is behind closed doors.

He also really likes long hair. He has a lot of restless energy and tends to fidget when forced to stay still for long periods of time, so playing with your hair is one of his favorite ways to calm his mind. Braiding it and running his hands through it if it's straight, or spiraling your curls around his fingers--he doesn't mind either way, just wants it silky-soft and long enough to play with. (He also loooooves helping you wash and care for it.)

He's very physically affectionate in private, and even more so in public. He likes showing his partner off, and being shown off by them. To some this might make him come across as rather shallow (his favorite date nights involve going to bars or out dancing--anywhere that gives him the opportunity to turn some heads), but to him, it's a way of demonstrating that no matter how many may want him, he's decided you're the only one deserving of his attention.

[zeldasnotes]

What aspect make two people very toxic when they are with eachother (to others not eachother). A couple in my school will constantly laugh when you walk by them or sit near them or ever comment something rude i know the girl from before since we were little and she was not this mean before and no its not only them doing this to me a lot of other people have been in problems with them too. 

SYNASTRY INDICATORS OF BECOMING TOXIC TOGETHER

(Based on my own personal experiences and observations.)

Composite Chiron in the 1st house: Ive written about it HERE. Ive seen this irl and it can get nasty. I know a couple who have this and oh how they bully people together. Both of them super nice without the other but when they are together its just horrible.

Moon in the 8th house/Moon conjunct Pluto: They draw out the worst in eachother. These two can become VERY toxic together. They forget all about morals and shame when they see eachother. This the most common synastry aspect between people who kill someone together. Sorry not sorry. Karla Homolkas Moon is in Paul Bernardos 8th house.

Moon conjunct Lilith: This can create this ”you and me against the world” kind of relationship and if mixed with other harsh aspects can make the two very toxic together. The world did them dirty and they bond through it. The real Bonnie and Clyde had this in synastry.

12th & 8th house synastry: These houses have a habit of making people draw out the hidden in eachother. You will show the other a side of you that you dont show others. IF someone have potential for becoming really toxic and bad this in synastry will definitely draw it out. Especially with Moon here, these overlays seem to draw out something very creepy and disturbing in the Moon person.

Prey(6157) conjunctions in synastry or composite: This will either make one of them see the other as Prey but it can also make them Prey on others together.