#vulgar ch 2

[cheolhub]

BABY FEVER — CHOI SEUNGCHEOL ࿐

summary. after a picnic date at the park goes horribly wrong, all choi seungcheol wants for his birthday is to fuck a baby into you.

wc. 3.4k+

warnings. established relationship, kinda ? dom!cheol, f. reader, pussy-drunk-bitch-in-heat cheol, breeding kink, literal baby making, marriage kink if you squint, reader referred to as mommy (x2), unprotected sex, oral (f. receiving), light body worship (f. receiving), vulgar language… heavy praise, pet names [baby, angel, princess] — MINORS DNI 18+

note. it’s an international holiday (aka cheol day) hehehe HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY LVRBOY <333 forgive me bc this is actually so rough… i forced myself to finish it in time for his bday 😍 please be gentle!! i promise ill make it up to all of u with a MUCH better cheol fic -3- happy coupsie day 2 u all x (thank yew @jeonghantis for reading this for me TWICE and always encouraging me <3)

you have to admit, this is not how you thought seungcheol’s birthday lunch would pan out. 

no, you definitely did not expect to end the day with your legs wrapped around your beloved boyfriend’s waist while he split you open on his cock, breathily promising that he’ll give you a baby. a ring. a life for the both of you.

because when you took said boyfriend out for a picnic in the park, you did expect a serene lunch date with him and his favorite food. you even wore the sundress he bought for your birthday. it was supposed to be the perfect gift. 

but you hadn’t realized how busy it’d be. how could you have known? it was just a random tuesday afternoon in the midst of august– arguably the hottest month of the year. who, besides the two of you, would want to be out on a day like this?

rowdy, unrestrained children. that’s who. 

it seems that children and parents have nothing better to do than crash birthdays and cause you massive headaches. 

when you looked over at seungcheol on the blanket halfway through your food, you discerned the faraway look in his eyes. he hasn’t said much. much less of how he feels about his “gift.” he wasn’t there– probably disassociated because of the noise. you realized then that you probably should’ve picked a different spot… or stuck to the homemade candlelit dinner you had initially planned. or done literally anything else. 

“cheollie… do you wanna leave?” you asked, concern laced in your voice. “we don’t have to stay, we can go home and do whatever you want.”

his jaw clenched and unclenched at the sound of your voice. he offered a shuddered breath and gave you a curt nod. “yeah, let’s go home.” 

and so you did. you felt defeated as seungcheol bruisingly gripped the steering wheel the entire ride home. you felt defeated as you sat in the passenger seat thinking of ways to fix his now-ruined birthday. you felt defeated as you two rode away in silence. complete silence. 

when you arrive back at your home, you dejectedly drop the basket off in the kitchen without bothering to unpack it. cheol stays on your tail the entire time, following you back to your room after throwing the keys on the island next to the picnic basket. 

and when you reach your destination, you let him in before closing the door behind you and then he pounces.  he has you pinned to said door in an instant. 

completely thrown off by his change in behavior, you splutter out, “ch-cheol, what the fuck?!”

“baby,” he mutters breathily, his eyes scanning your features. the faraway look in his eyes has been replaced, both of them filled with something completely different. lust. it’s like the last hour never even happened.

he has you caged in. one of hands pressed flat against the door and the other gripping your waist. there’s a mere inch of a gap separating the two of you and you can feel all the heat radiating off of his body. 

still wide-eyed, staring up at him, you softly– apprehensively– ask, “cheol? are you okay?” 

admittedly, seungcheol is not okay. not in the slightest. he doesn’t want to scare you, but watching kids run around– hearing how happy they were– had him thinking thoughts. thoughts of having a kid of his own. 

it had his heart fluttering at first, the idea of having a mini him running around the house. it filled him with the utmost joy.

then his thoughts escalated. thoughts of having a kid turned into thoughts of having a kid with you. thoughts of getting you round and pregnant with his child rotted large portions of his brain away.

and it progressively got worse and worse. with every passing minute, the images in his brain became more clear till the only thing on his mind was folding you in half and fucking a baby into you while you begged for it. 

he’s not sure how to relay said thoughts to you. the two of you have been dating for years and you’re in a really good place, both financially and emotionally.

but dropping the ‘i want a kid’ bomb? before he’s even proposed? it’s taboo…untraditional… it’s something you potentially don’t even want, so he should ease into the conversation of children and marriage.

but…choi seungcheol thinks he’s lost the ability to think and speak clearly. that’s why he blurts it out without logically thinking it over, lost in a haze of lust and need and burning hot desire. 

“wanna have a baby,” 

your stomach drops and the air in your lungs vanishes, leaving you breathless.

“w-what…cheol? a baby?” you ask slowly. “you… wanna have a baby?” 

a small growl bubbles in his chest when you repeat his words. “wanna give you a baby.” 

heat creeps up your neck and within seconds– when you realize the intent of his words– your entire body burns as arousal courses through your veins. seungcheol doesn’t just want to have a kid… he wants to fuck one into you. 

you can’t say you’ve never thought of having one before, but it was always farther down the line. after marriage and settling down.

even still, your stomach swirls in anticipation, imagining seungcheol as a father. as your husband. 

so you reply, “do… do you think we’re ready for that? we’re still pretty young and… we aren’t married…”

your words trail off and you look away, eyes trained on his chest instead. 

“i’m gonna marry you.” he says as a matter of factly. “look at me.” he demands, the hand next to your head moves to grip your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “there’s no doubt in my mind. i’m going to marry you, baby.”

hearing that is surreal. he’s said it twice and the words are still rattling around in your empty brain. he’s gonna marry you. there’s no doubt in his mind. 

you’d think your heart is about to lurch out of your chest the way it pounds against your ribcage. your palms are dripping with sweat, your knees are buckling about ready to give out on you, your stomach is in knots because, fuck yes, you want this. you want him. and– you guessed it– you want to bear his child. 

you don’t know how long you’ve been standing, blankly staring at him. before you can even speak up, seungcheol is dropping to his knees in front of you, both of his hands on your waist now.

you almost think he’s going to propose, leaving you even more speechless, but he leaves a soft kiss on your tummy. he’s gentle, kissing you through the fabric of your dress right above your navel. his lips venture down, though, and his pleading eyes look up at you waiting for your okay. 

you let out the breath you were holding, nodding your head.

and cheol swears he would lose it if he hadn’t already. 

he reaches for your panties under your dress, yanking them off your body and letting them pool at your feet. his hand moves to hold your dress up, wrinkling it in his grip. the other lifts one of your legs and drapes it over his shoulder before he finally dives into your cunt.

“cheol!” you gasp as you feel his tongue lay flat against your folds. your hands thread through his hair, gripping at his locks as he laps up your arousal. “sl-slow– fuck, baby– slow down,”

seungcheol is a giver, that’s always been common knowledge.

but you tend to forget that he is exceptionally greedy when it comes to eating you out. he can never get enough of you, slurping at your hole and sucking your clit till you’ve cum countless times on his face. a glutton for pussy, you could say.

it’s why he can’t slow down despite your request. his tongue digs into you while he noses at your clit, moaning against your cunt to bring you closer to the euphoric feeling you’ve been craving since he asked to fuck a baby into you. 

and it works. it always does. your moaning and whining and begging and it’s fucking music to his ears. 

“tastes so good, angel,” he moans against you, words coming out muffled. the vibrations shock your body and you can’t help but jolt, back arching off the door. your hands tighten their grip on his hair, pushing him further into your cunt. 

and that’s the thing about seungcheol being insatiable. you always end up greedier than him. it’s like an orchestrated plan. 

“more,” you beg through a whine, grinding your pussy into his face. “please more, feels s’good, cheollie,” 

he groans against you again, digging his nails into your thigh eliciting your pretty mewls. he tightly wraps his lips around your clit, flicking the swollen bud with his tongue. you throw your head back against the door, eyebrows knitting together as you’re overcome with pleasure. 

it hits you before you can even blink. you’re letting out a breathless mantra of seungcheol’s name, your stomach knots up, your breathing increases and you completely lose control as you let go all over his face. 

he keeps eating you out, whining while lapping up your release as if he’d been deprived of the taste of your cum for weeks. as if he hadn’t eaten you out just last night. and the morning before that. and three times in a row the day before.

when he’s finally done, he gently sets your leg back down. he observes the way you tremble, struggling to keep balance so his hands are back on your waist, releasing the wrinkled fabric and letting it fall back over your legs.

he stands to his feet, towering over you once again. his hard cock strains in his jeans and he gives you a look that screams ‘i need you’ to which you look up at him with hooded eyes. the sheen of your arousal on his skin, his disheveled hair is quite the sight.

“baby…” he pants, inching closer to you. 

“put one in me,” you whisper. you, too, have no doubt in your mind about this. about him. you want everything he’s offering to you. “fuck a baby into me, cheol, i want it. i want you.”

seungcheol thinks his life flashes before his eyes when he hears your words. he thinks, maybe, he mishears you for a second, but when you keep that expectant look on your face, he knows that this is very real. that he’s gonna fuck you full of cum and pray it takes. 

he closes the gap between you, pressing his lips against yours.

it’s not your average kiss. it’s hot and heavy and, fuck, you think he just might eat you alive. his body is flush against yours now and you feel his bulge digging into your tummy. 

feeling him like this has you craving the weight of his cock on your tongue, but you know cheol has no plan of relinquishing any type of control tonight. even if it does mean he’s missing out on the world’s best head.

you kick off your shoes and fumble with the button on his jeans while whining into his mouth. you eventually give up after the button doesn’t budge, wrapping your arms around his neck and grinding against his clothed bulge instead, basking in the way he groans back into your mouth.

he pulls back, swollen lips turning down in a cute pout, “baby, need to fuck you right now…”

you tug at his shirt, whispering, “then fuck me, cheol.” 

a guttural groan bubbles in the back of his throat. he pulls your dress up by the hem, growling a soft, “off.” 

“you first.” 

he raises an eyebrow at you but doesn’t say anything else, tugging his shirt over his head and tossing it on to the ground. his hands are back on your dress, but you shake your head. 

“pants, too,” you whisper with a cheeky smile. 

“didn’t realize this was a strip tease,” he grumbles passively, stepping out of his shoes while his hands easily pop the button of his jeans and yanking them down his thick thighs. 

your eyes flit down to his boxers and your saliva pools in your mouth, threatening to spill past your lips at the mere sight of his clothed hard-on. 

he interrupts your gawking, gruff, stern voice filling your ears, “take your fucking dress off.”

you giggle, raising your arms. he’s not slow and he’s most certainly not gentle when he practically rips the dress up and off, discarding it into the pile of clothes that lay haphazardly on the floor.

he doesn’t even give you a second before grabbing– manhandling– you and guiding you to the bed. 

he lays you down and internally melts. “you’re so gorgeous, baby,” he mumbles, spreading your legs open and eyeing your pulsing cunt. “you’re perfect.”

you don’t know how it’s possible at this point, but you grow even hotter. feverish. you always love his praise and you know he’s well-aware of the fact because he smirks as you squirm and clench around nothing. 

“cheollie,” you whimper. 

his hands splay over your bare stomach and his cock throbs as an array of dirty thoughts re-enter his mind. 

“you’re gonna look so cute when i put a baby in you, isn’t that right?” he murmurs, hands ghosting over your skin before they land on your tits, fondling them through your bra without a care in the world. “gonna be such a pretty mommy…” he tells you, voice dropping an octave. 

you moan at the contact and his promiscuous words. arousal drools from your hole, surely soaking a puddle into the sheets under you. you’re not sure how much longer you can wait for him to impale you on his cock before you become a weeping mess. 

you whine, eyes threatening to close, “please make me a mommy, cheollie.”

seungcheol lets out a sharp breath, quickly removing his hands from your tits, opting on using them to push his boxers down. 

when his length slaps against his abdomen, he lets out a soft groan. he doesn’t wait for anything else, grabbing his cock, spitting on it, stroking it a few times and, finally, pushing his angry red tip against your hole. 

when the head of his cock gets trapped between the warm walls of your cunt, seungcheol curses. “tightest fuckin’ thing,” he mutters, shoving himself deeper and deeper, listening to your high-pitched whines and whimpers. 

and when he’s finally balls deep inside of you, his eyes flicker up from your pussy swallowing him whole to your contorted, fucked out face that he loves dearly. 

he’s breathless, asking, “you good, baby?”

you offer a broken nod and a weak, “s’good.”

it’s all he needs to hear before standing all the way up on his knees, grasping at your waist, and lifting your lower back off the bed. 

you squeal, “cheol! what are you–” 

you’re cut off by your own yelp when he pulls out and slams back into you without much of a warning. his cock reaches deeper than you think you’ve ever felt and it has your eyes rolling back and your hands pulling the sheets off the bed. 

his hips are relentless, continuously driving his cock in and out of you at an impressive speed while groaning out words of praise. you feel his tip bruisingly kiss your cervix and the pained pleasure brings tears to your eyes. 

“s-seungcheol–” you sob, arching further into the air. 

“i know, baby,” he moans in response. “but, fuck, you’re taking it so well. look so fucking pretty taking my cock like this.” he wants to throw his head back in pleasure, but he can’t bear to tear his eyes away from you. 

tears helplessly fall down the sides of your face and your mouth is cracked open, letting out the most gorgeous sounds. your tits spill from your bra, bouncing with every thrust and it’s too good. you look too fucking good. 

and you’re going to look even better with his cum leaking out of your cunt. 

you ache with the partial bridge seungcheol has you in. you’re not sure if you want to focus on the profound pain or intense pleasure, but when he drops your body back on the bed and his thumb catches your clit, you have no other choice. 

you gasp, crying out and clamping around him with an iron grip, “fuh-fuck! cheol– cheollie!”

he growls, rubbing the sensitive bud faster and faster. “you gonna cum for me?”

you pant, chest heaving as you nod your head vigorously. your eyes screw shut and your jaw drops further as you feel the familiar knotting in your tummy. your impending orgasm bubbles in the pit of your belly, a stream of whines and moans leaving your mouth. 

“cum f’me, angel.” he coaxes breathily, cock twitching and throbbing inside of you. “s’gonna feel so good, just cum for me.” he practically begs and you think it’s because he’s just as close. 

you can’t even find it in you to care because the onslaught of pleasure wracks your body. you clench around him once, twice, three times– and, before you know it, the knots in your tummy come completely undone and you’re left a shaking mess under him.

“that’s it, that’s my fucking girl.” he nearly whines, fucking you through your orgasm while you jerk and thrash on the bed. “god, i love this pussy, your body, everything, baby– i love you.”

you cry, silently praying he’ll press his lips against yours because, god, you love him, too. so much. but your voice is hoarse and you don’t think you can conjure up the words to give him. 

it’s like he reads your mind, slipping his hand in between your tits and pulling your body up by the material of your bra and wraps his arms around your body. his mouth presses against yours, swallowing all of your sounds as you swallow his. 

your arms wrap around his neck, sobbing in overstimulation as he kisses the life out of you.  when he pulls away, you wrap your legs around his waist, the heels of your feet digging into his lower back. you continue to whine, burying your face into his sweaty neck to muffle the noises. 

he holds you tighter, pounding into you without any regard to your sounds. “gonna fill you up, princess. gonna fuck you full of my cum, give you a baby, marry you,” he grunts loudly. “everything. gonna– fuck– gonna give you everything.”

you nod, sinking your teeth into his neck. 

and seungcheol can’t hold back, moaning your name before pressing his cock as far as he can go and stilling there. ribbons of his release coat your bruised walls and you feel the warmth radiate throughout your body. 

cheol’s pants slowly morph into breathy chuckles as he comes to terms with what he’s done. 

you shudder, feeling full in more ways than one. you pull your head from the crook of his neck, looking at his gummy grin and dazed eyes and you give him a lopsided grin. you look so content, even after he nearly fucked the life out of you. 

“was it too much?” he asks gently after a few minutes of silently staring at each other.

“a lil…” you whisper, weakly clamping around him. “you know i love it when you get like this, though.”

“i know.” he mumbles, unraveling himself from you to marvel at his work. he pulls out of you and watches the way his cum slowly dribbles out of your hole. he can’t help but groan at the sight. “you think this’ll be enough, angel?”

“a few more rounds probably wouldn’t hurt.” you giggle. 

“that can probably be arranged.” he hums cheekily. “but, seriously, baby. thank you… for today. you always know how to surprise me.”

“really? i kinda… thought you hated the whole picnic lunch date,” you murmur. “thought i ruined your day.”

“no, baby, i loved it.” he says through a smile, kissing the corner of your mouth. “it was great, i swear… i just thought about fucking a baby into you a little too hard.”

“i’m really glad.” you smile, “and, now that you hopefully did… how would you rate year 28?”

“10/10. truly the best birthday ever.” he says. “i got everything i ever wanted.”

© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.

[anisespice]

“ hate your boyfriend ” || tokyo rev. pt. 2

one

synopsis: " you can pick me or your little boy. "

pairing: college!toman x gn!reader

warnings: mature language, sexual themes, MDI. toxic!toman, cheater!reader (pumpkin eater!!), enabling behavior, mild violence, vague descriptions of sex (cause i’m lazy), vulgar language, corny marvel joke, dirty-talk, moral compass is a roulette wheel in this one lol and i think that’s it :P 

notes: did a little continuation of the first one before doing more characters lol i’m happy you guys liked the concept, lemme know who you’d like to see next :))) i don’t hate this one, but i don’t love it either (except maybe mikey’s) buuuut hope yall enjoy! <333

tagged: @fantasycantasy , @spacegirl05​

A week had passed since the whole kick-back fiasco, and MIKEY had gone awol. Aki was over the moon about it, for obvious reasons; as far as he was concerned, he scared him off. Besides, the less you hung around the delinquent, the better for both of you.

“That guy’s just a nuisance, babe. Good riddance.”

Little did he know, this was a regular occurrence. Mikey always did this—Disappeared for days on end, only to pop right back up like he never left. Whether it be due to gang related issues, or because he felt like it, this frustrating habit was one of the reasons you invited him that night, despite knowing he’d pick a fight with Aki. You had missed him…in more ways than one. You knew it was only a matter of time before he came back to you.

And in the wee hours of the night, not far after said boyfriend left your place, you received a lone message from the former blonde himself.

from : bad influence ♡ 11:03pm     “ omw. ”

Short, but effective. His timing was impeccable, how he always managed to text the second you were alone was beyond you, but it made your heart race all the same. It was wrong, you knew that, Aki deserved better than someone who snuck around. You didn’t mean for it to get this far, but that was a guilt you’d deal with later. Mikey was your drug of choice, and tonight you craved another fix.

to : bad influence ♡ 11:07pm       “ okay. but just for a little while. ”

Even if you tried to play coy, to salvage whatever weak moral you had left, it didn’t matter—The only one you were fooling tonight was Aki.

from : bad influence ♡ 11:08pm      “ mhm. sure, angel. ”

It was a wonder how you didn’t draw blood with how harshly you clawed at his shoulders, fighting between wanting him closer or wanting to push him away. Mikey didn’t mind, though. On the contrary, he encouraged you to leave marks. As tempted as he was to leave his own, he figured beating up your insides would suffice.

Knowing you’ll struggle to walk tomorrow was all the reward he needed.

“God—fuuck,” he slurred, after a particularly hard thrust made you arch off the bed, forcing him to sink deeper. He gazed down at you with an all too pleased grin as you begged him for more. How could he deny you when you sounded so desperate? “Taking me so well, angel…always so good f’me…”

“J-Jiro..! Ahplease!” You sobbed, your knees practically knocking upside your temples as he increased momentum. Mikey snickered, angling his hips to continue ramming the spot that made your eyes cross, moans reaching octaves you didn’t even know you could hit.

“Mm, been feening for this dick, huh? Yeah? Maybe we should call up that smug bastard, let ‘em see how such good friends we are, right [______]? Bet he was real proud thinkin’ he got me to fuck off…but we both know who you really belong to. Don’t we?”

He wasn’t sorry. That’s the short end of it.

The moment Takeru decided to act all big and bad, breaking stuff in a place where he paid no bills, it was in DRAKEN’s right to set him straight; mama may not have raised him, but he still ain’t no bitch.

It took some coaxing on your end, but you were able to reel Draken back from turning your boyfriend inside out. But, after he forced him to pick up every broken piece of the lamp, he told Takeru to choose a number between one and ten.

“…Why?” Was his response. Draken raised a brow.

“That’s how many shards I’m gonna shove up your nose.”

“Ken!”

The look on the shorter male’s face was worth it, earning a threatening smirk from the mechanic as he slapped a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Ahh, y’look like you were about to shit yourself, man! Nah, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

For a moment, there’s relief in your boyfriend’s eyes. It was short-lived, of course. Especially once Draken’s grip tightened around his shoulder. “But I will. Don’t ever let me catch you pop off on [_____] like that again. Would hate for you to have to pick yourself up off the floor next time. You feel me?”

With a gulp, he gave a shaky nod; now he really looked like he shat himself. “Y-Yes…”

“Hah? Yes, what?”

“Y-Yes, Draken, sir?”

He rewarded the poor sucker’s obedience with a couple taps to the cheek just to spite him before sending him on his way. It was met with little protest, Takeru scurrying out of the room with lamp pieces still in his palms, not even sparing you a passing glance. 

“Text you later?” You called at his retreating form. When all you got was the sound of your front door slamming shut in response, you swiftly turned on your heel to aim a dejected frown at your other houseguest. Draken sardonically pouted back at you, reaching over to pinch your cheek until you swatted his hand away. “Why’d you do that, you totally freaked him out!” 

He wasn’t sorry. Draken shrugged. “Good.” 

Merely rolling your eyes, you headed for the small broom and dustpan in your closet to gather what little pieces Takeru left behind–Might as well busy yourself to delay addressing the elephant still in the room. Unfortunately, said elephant wasn’t about to let that happen. Before you could even think of sweeping anything, Draken gently grabbed your elbow, those same eyes that stared death into your boyfriend’s soul now filled with something else as they appraised you, melting through whatever cold exterior you tried to aim at him.

He leaned down closer, sporting a slanted grin that sent signals straight down to your core. Sometimes, you despised how easily he made your insides flutter by just existing.

“How much longer y’gonna entertain that fucking loser, huh? He wouldn’t know the first thing about handling someone like you.”

You hummed, fighting the giddy tremble in your body at the challenging air that surrounded you both. With the inkling of boldness you had, you took the bait. “What, like you would?”

He wasn’t sorry; you’d be though.

The way Draken split you in half would make Lucifer himself bite the pillow. Hovering over his gigantic frame, chest bare with your hands perched on each pec, he manhandled you to take every unforgiving inch of his dick, having you feeling downright discombobulated as your hips struggled to keep momentum.

Forget about seeing stars, at some point, you were certain you saw into the quantum realm; say hi to Ant-Man for me.

“K-Kenny...I can’t...t’s too much!” 

He cooed up at you, though there wasn’t an ounce of sympathy in his tone. If anything, Draken enjoyed himself thoroughly, tongue-in-cheek as he watched you fall apart in his lap, just like he knew you would. With the way you tightened up around him like a vice, as if your own body was against the thought of him stopping, the former blonde chuckled breathlessly.

“Use the safe word then, doll.”

You glared down at him, to the best of your ability. With him practically jabbing you in the lung, it was more than difficult to say the rebuttal as smartly as you wanted to. “Y-you think…you’re so-oh! So f-funny…”

He did. Absolutely he did. By making your boyfriend’s name the safe word, nothing would soften his dick quicker. Plus, he knew you didn’t need it; just like you didn’t need Takeru.

“What? It’d be the only way you’d ever scream it anyways.”

“Welcome back.”

You paused mid-step upon entering your apartment, not expecting the ravenette to still be there. With a deep exhale, you paid him no mind as you kicked off your shoes, irritated after a tiresome process of checking your boyfriend into the hospital.

To say BAJI did a number on him would be an understatement…Man’s fucked him up. Sure, maybe Makoto could’ve watched his tone when talking to someone with such a short fuse, but Baji could’ve at least exercised a little restraint.

…Oh, who were you kidding? It’s Baji.

“What, ya not talkin’ to me?” Barely sparing him a glance, you set your bag on the coffee table before heading for the bedroom for a much-needed shower. Baji didn’t take kindly to being ignored. He huffed, standing to meet you halfway as he trailed behind you. Even when you attempted to close the door in his face, he shouldered his way in anyway; it was gonna take more than that to deter him.

“Quit being mad…said I was sorry, damn.”

“No you didn’t,” you replied, incredulously. You really tried it with the silent treatment, but knowing him, it was only a matter of seconds before he'd get you talking again. Taking off the sweats you threw on in haste earlier, you continued. “You said, and I quote, ‘Talk shit, get hit,’ then fell asleep on the couch while I had to haul Makoto to the emergency room!”

Baji shuffled his feet, “…Well, I meant to say it. Jus' forgot.”

You scoffed, walking into your bathroom. "What are you even still doing here? Don't you have someone else's day to shit on?”

“Y’kicking me out now?” He teased, raising a brow. What he didn't expect was for you to start throwing your toiletries at him. Although his reflexes saved him for the most part, Baji still got hit a few times as he attempted to dodge between a shampoo bottle and mouthwash. "Whoa! Hey-!"

“Maybe I should! Do you have any idea how hard it was to get him in and out of my car with all that dead weight, let alone into the building? Not to mention, his emergency contacts were his uppity-ass parents, so after they chewed me out, I had to lie and say he saved me from getting mugged.”

“...They buy it?”

You tilted your head, exasperated. "Wow. And here I thought the next thing out of your mouth would be that apology you 'forgot' to say earlier…[Sigh] Whatever. You just better hope when Makoto wakes up he doesn't remember anything, or else we're both in deep shit."

“Tsk. The fuck’s he gonna do?”

“He could literally sue us.” You deadpanned.

“He’s a pussy, he wouldn’t be stupid enough to try me again. And if he gives you any shit for it, you let me know. I’ll take care of it.”

“Oh, you mean like how you did today? Pass.”

He groaned, “I said sorry!”

“No you didn’t! And still haven’t!”

At the moment, it felt like the conversation would just continue in circles. With Baji stubbornly claiming he was in the right, and you combating his warped logic with colorful language and more stuff thrown at him, it's a wonder how things ended up here–With your face pressed against the cold shower wall as he gave you his fucking apology.

Over, and over, and over again.

While one hand wrapped around the column of your throat, fingers shoved knuckle-deep into your mouth to pacify the excessive whines tumbling out, the other made use of gripping the meat of your thigh, giving you no chance of running from the punishing thwap of his hips ramming against your wet ass-cheeks. The water cascading over your bodies had long turned cold as Baji chased after orgasm number five, his muscles ached from the strain, but he'd be damned to stop until he was certain all was forgiven.

Even if it meant missing every single one of Makoto's phone calls.

“God, I am so, so sorry, Takashi. Can’t believe he just…I-I’ve never seen him act like that before. Does it hurt?”

MITSUYA, despite the sting in his split lip, gave you an easy grin. “Nah, y’know I’ve been through worse. Fucker hits like one of my younger sisters.”

You had brought him back to your place to ice the bruise forming on his jaw, still frazzled over what occurred in the last half hour. Back at the restaurant, everything seemed fine when you excused yourself to the bathroom, having a blast knowing that your two favorite people were actually getting along. Unbeknownst to you, there was a storm brewing in Hajime. And the second you were out of sight, he used this opportunity to set a record straight with Mitsuya.  

Evidently, he allowed his fists to do the talking. 

You groaned, rubbing down your face in distress. “We’ll probably never get to set foot in that restaurant again...’m so embarrassed.”

“Hey,” he softly reprimanded, “Don’t sweat it, t’s not your fault-”

“I’m the one who begged you to let him come with us in the first place. I mean, I know you two butt heads from time to time, but I didn’t think it’d ever turn that serious. Please, Taka, just tell me what happened.”

Mitsuya shook his head, about to lower the ice pack until you shot him a pointed look. With a small exhale through his nose, he kept it on his jaw while he spoke. “I told you, he was probably pissed he couldn’t get a free meal outta me-”

“Don’t bullshit me, Haji wouldn’t explode like that over a fucking chicken sandwich.” You huffed, frustrated at his evasive behavior. He was holding back information on purpose, you were certain. Ever since the fitting, he'd been acting weird all evening. And that fight only solidified your suspicions. “Just tell me what started it!” 

"Doesn’t matter."

"Taka-"

"Let it go, [______]." He laid back on your couch and made himself comfortable, even so much as turning on your tv to fill over the dead conversation. Mitsuya trained his eyes on the lit-up screen, still icing his jaw as he subtly avoided eye contact.

You could just scream.

Childishly, you snatched the remote from his hand and switched it back off. The lavender haired threw his head back in defeat, the hand holding the ice pack slowly coming down as Mitsuya eyed you from his peripheral; so stubborn.

“Be honest. It was about me again, wasn’t it?” His silence spoke volumes. “So it was then. Ugh, okay listen, I get that you’re both really protective of me, I do, but that doesn’t excuse-”

“I’m in love with you.”

You choked. Though, only on your words.

With that now hanging up in the air, you gaped like a damn goldfish, the remote slipping out your grasp and clambering to the floor with a clack. Mitsuya exhaled; no turning back now. “You…huh?”

“Yep. Have been for a while, actually.” He placed his arms behind the couch, wry smirk on his face. “Planned to tell you over dinner tonight, but that backfired fast, no thanks to that walking steroid you call a boyfriend.”

“Y-…You’re messing with me. Right?” The designer offered a humorless laugh, gesturing to his split lip and bruised jaw.

“Didn’t get hit for saying what a great pal you were, [______].”

Now it was your turn to be silent. A lump began to form in your throat, overwhelmed with the newfound information, borderline confession.

“So then…what did you say to Haji to make him so angry?”

For a split second, you saw a glint within his pools of amethyst as they slowly rendered to a deep violet. Staring at you from beneath his pretty lashes, Mitsuya resembled that of a starved animal on the verge of cornering its prey, causing a sudden warmth to envelop you as you squirmed under his heady gaze.

Sitting up a little, he merely beckoned you to his empty lap. You blinked widely at him, sputtering as you tried to protest the idea. But, what he said next played into your curiosity.

“C’mere, and I’ll show you.”

You blinked at him, uncertain; he made no move to rush you. If you were against the idea, you were more than welcome to decline and tell him to shove it. However, when you eventually crawled into the awaiting throne, settling all your weight on top of him to the point he couldn’t keep from groaning shamelessly, Mitsuya was fucking elated.

You gripped his shirt at the shoulders, sporting that signature pout you’d do whenever you wanted something from him—The designer was more than ready to give it to you. All you had to do was say so.

“Hajime’s gonna kill you if he finds out, though. Don’t want you getting hurt again because of me…”

Mitsuya chuckled, hands slowly rubbing up your thighs until they settled on your hips. “Don’t worry about it, sweet thing. He may have gotten two hits on me today, but all I need is one tomorrow.”

© 2023-2024 anisespice ッ all rights reserved.   likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

[starlightdreaming]

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader! Ch. 3!

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel!

Content Warning: more… angst. with some comfort..(?) idk starve lol. blood and vulgar words. SUPER LONG CHAPTER TOO WOO! (nonproof read too)

Synopsis: after going through severe depression, you mentally and physically shut down.

Further note: THANK YOU FOR THE PEOPLE WHO ARE SUPPORTING MY SERIES (Lululuna) IT MAKES ME SO FUCKIGN HAPPY AAHAHAHHDVENE (this is also my favorite chapter I’ve been waiting to write HEHEHHE) ENJOY READING AS IVE ENJOYED WRITING IT - ✨Lolo💫

Chapters!: Chapter 1 ✧ Chapter 2 ✧ Chapter 3 (you are here) •<•)b ✧ Chapter 4 ✧ Chapter 5

THIS CHAPTERS SONG IS uhhHhahwueh

(optional but recommended!)

｡･:*:･ﾟLululuna･ﾟ:｡*:･｡

After sending Lucifer away, you were silent during the whole aftermath ordeal.

You stared at the ground for a long while, sitting in the middle of the court room, ignoring and blocking everyone that was talking or looking at you. In a room so loud, in your mind, it was deathly silent.

Sera went to you, tapping your shoulder softly, “come along now, Y/n,” She says, softly, “Let’s get you home, alright?” She offers, standing up, waiting for you to collect yourself and get up as well.

the carpet was drenched with a puddle of tears, you felt like a part of you was gone forever… and you weren’t ever going to get it back. You dry your tears, using your sleeves to wipe them off your face before getting up and taking Sera’s hand into your own, she held your hand softly, teleporting you to the front of your home.

“Take all the time you need.” Sera says, understanding how much pain you were going through, you have told her everything after all in your years of working with her after you and Lucifer fell apart. She teleported away as you stood at your front door for a moment, staring at the door before unlocking it and pushing it open with no effort at all, your home was dark from how late it was,

The sun was gone, put away to rest, and the moon was present, subtle and set.

You walked into your home, stars barely dimming any light in the dark home, you closed your door behind you, leaning on it with a sigh, your exhausted eyes felt puffy from all the tears you had shed after seeing Lucifer for the last time, the way he looked at you as he fell, bore into your mind, it’s been haunting you since.

‘maybe it was a mistake?’ you thought as you conversed in your head for the nth time that day, your mind was haunting you endlessly with years of torment after Lucifer left you behind, your heart and mind were always arguing with one another, your heart always begged to talk things out even if the pain was unbearable but your mind was more of in control with your body, trying to keep your heart safe, trying to keep you safe from any more suffering. you just didn’t know what to do.

Tears fell from your eyes again that night, wishing to be held and comforted by someone who would understand the same pains as you, and that someone was no one.

Down at your door you sat, hugging your knees as you cried out your pain, the exact same spot when you cried yourself to sleep on your last birthday, the last birthday you shared with Lucifer. It wasn’t a good memory to remember but… it was a memory that was telling you, ‘here we are, once again.’ and that was enough to make you cry harder as you hugged yourself with the silence screams that no one could ever see or hear…once.. again.

✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧

Day in, day out.

As time passed, you were slowly recovering from the losses of your childhood friend.

Day in, day out.

As time passed, you focused on your work behind the scenes, Emily bringing joy to those around Halo city, welcoming winners and Heaven born angels all around. With more Earth born angels arriving in Heaven, the population of the people grew, meaning more expansions of the city and more expansions of the city, meant you had to work much, much longer.

Day in, day out.

You were falling behind on your creations, being the only ‘angel’ that could make stars, Sera would often have to come and talk to you and your issues of the star makings. You and Sera both tried to get other angels to make the same stars as you, sentient and beautiful, but it was only ever botched and dull when anyone else tried to make them, leaving you at a loss. You often had to stay up in late night hours, until the sun came back up, barely ever giving you the chance to go back home and rest. After one problem, another came along, you began to feel confined behind those four walls.

Day in, day out.

Your life was just stuck in the same room, rarely ever getting out, star after star, it began to be repetitive and passionless, everything was the same.

Day in, day out.

Sera would often visit you, telling you to keep making an nth amount of stars today or tomorrow, sooner or later, she would just leave notes and piles of paperwork her employers would send to you, leaving you in the dust, life became frail and dulling, you were just a machine at that point, neglected and forgotten as you kept making sentient stars constantly.

Day in, day out.

Nothing’s new. Days, weeks, months, years, nothing was changing as you drowned more in more into a bleak and miserable office, you felt more and more empty, you would wake up and sleep, you lost track of time at this point, your office was just a mess of star dust and stars, the windows were black from the dust staining the windows making them unobtrusive, you sat on the floor in the center, feeling stuck and hopeless. Surrounded by the only thing that brought you comfort, now becoming the only thing you were ever useful for.

Day in, day out.

How long has passed? You didn’t care anymore. All you wanted was to escape and be free from this basked room of misery and self loathing, your stars became gloopy and sticky, they were melting in this room like you were.

Day in, day out.

You couldn’t bare another minute in the same room, your arms were stained black from stars that melted on you from time to time, the stars were barely ever successfully made anymore, you just couldn’t continue anymore.

Day in, day out.

Long and forgotten you were, nothing new and changing, just you in a black room, full of dust and gloopy stars. You laid there meaninglessly, your eyes lifeless and you completely numb, tired and exhausted.

Day in, day out.

Nothing’s new, nothing’s new, nothing’s new, nothing’s new, nothing’s new, nothing’s new, nothing’s new, nothing’s new, nothing’s new, nothing’s new, nothing’s new, nothing’s new, nothing’s new, nothing’s new.

Day in, day out.

After days of laying there, eating your own stars as survival, refusing to allow anyone into your room, Sera finally showed up for once after eons or centuries? you don’t even know anymore. She wasn’t as loving or caring as she used to be, it was to be expected since you lost sight of you as a sister and more of a machine. When she ordered you to get up and do something, you refused to respond as you continued to lay there, seeing as doing anything anymore was futile.

She commanded you again and she received no result, When she picked you up from the ground, she saw how lifeless you really were, she teleported you to a hospital, getting you attention from the doctors as quick as possible, they checked you, you were alive, obviously, but mentally, you died out long ago.

✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧

✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧

The nurses cleaned and fed you, you were barely responsive but it was progress to them if you ever reacted.

You laid in that hospital bed, day in, day out.

One day, Emily came to visit you, you didn’t bother until she used her powers on you. As the joy bringer of the people, she managed to give you a glimpse of happiness again and that was enough to bring color back into your eyes and look at her.

A nurse watching, left to contact a doctor. Emily smiled at you as she channeled her energy to you, hugging you and asking you questions to see if you would respond, it took awhile but you managed to wry a smile and tell her, “hi..” a croak in your voice from how raspy your throat felt, she tilted her head with a comforting smile, “hi,” she said, “how are you feeling?” she asks genuinely, her hand over your yours as she channeled more of her angelic energy, soothing you physically and mentally, “I’m alright.” you responded with a croaky voice, “yeah?” she asks, “yeah.” you respond.

A doctor showed up to give you a thorough check up, the nurse following and thanking Emily as she lightly laughed off the nurses praises. Your eyes were still dull but they had color now, the bags under your eyes were visible from the years lack of resting, black circles covered your eyes but seeing you be able to smile was just enough for the doctor to say you were responsive now. The doctor and nurse left the room to get you your meal or checking on other patients, leaving you and Emily once again.

Emily would talk to you, making small conversations, tell you about her day and sharing her energy with you again to make you more at ease, she even told you how Sera refused to let her see you cause you were always too busy for visitors, that was true but it was also the reason you were here in the first place. When visiting time was over she promised to come back to visit you tomorrow, you smiled at that, waving bye as she left.

Now it was you, yourself, and the white room and for once, you decided to stand up and look outside the window, the stars shined and dimmed brightly that night, the stars were the only thing making your eyes shine that night, their light reflecting off your eyes irises.

with the day done and in, you rested peacefully in that hospital bed, letting the day out.

Emily visited everyday to see you, still seeing you as a sister and telling you her life stories, she even managed to make you laugh at one point, it was a big laugh but it was genuine and thats what matters to her. At one point, you managed to ramble off about stars and the ideas you had for them, you got to show her how you made them, you tried to show her as well when she requested to guide her to make one, obviously it didn’t work but she smiled whenever she got to be given the chance to, she gave you the botched star that was lavender blue, it was small with imperfections but for the first time in the longest time, someone had given you something and you never were letting it go.

You used a little bit of your stardust to make it stick in your hair, making sure it stays there, no matter what. Emily smiled when she saw it in your hair, seeing how much it matters to you. You and Emily both spent the entire day talking and creating, sharing and conversing, it was so comforting and warm, her light was guiding you out of that dark abyss you had made for yourself and eventually- you were out the hospital.

You went back to that same office room but this time, you cleaned it, you made more stars, the neglected ones being perfected and revived, sentient and chiming. With your office cleaned you decided to get a meeting with Sera personally. It took a few days but it was accepted and eventually you were in her office, she looked at you authoritatively, not seeing you as she had once, who knows long ago.

“What is it, Y/n?” She says, sitting at her desk as you walked up to her desk and took a seat in the chair at the opposite end. “I quit.” You spoke, unhesitant, “What?” She says, rather surprised, “I quit,” you smiled, crossing your arms, “at making stars for you and the people.” you finished, watching her reaction change, “and what makes you think you can?” She says with a slightly aggressive tone, glaring at you slightly, “I am my own person, I want a new job,” You say, sitting back in your chair, “then- will I make more stars for you.” You say, your her fingers intertwined and resting on your lap, legs crossed.

She stood up, her figure towering over you from over the table, “You refused to continue your work, end up in a hospital for who knows what and now you’re asking for a new job?” She asked, feeling rather insulted like you can laze around and do whatever you want, “Yes, that’s exactly what.” You smiled, unbothered, Emily made you feel this way, like a new person, she was therapy itself in a way.

“And you think you can handle a different job? even when you couldn’t even handle your own?” She glares, you leaned forward into your chair, “got bored with the stars thing, without a doubt I can do something else.” You say looking at her smugly, making her harden her glare at you. maybe Emily gave you too much of her energy.

“Fine then.” She says, turning around, looking away from you and out the window, she snapped her fingers and a man appeared next to you, “Woah- wait, what the fuck?” He says, looking around the room, looking at Sera, then at you, “You will be working with Adam from now on,” She says, turning back to you, you and Adam staring at each other awkwardly, before he began to wiggle his eyebrows at you with a flirty smirk, “Adam, you are to train and teach Y/n, show and tell her what she will be doing.” Sera orders, you had your knees up in the chair leaning away from Adam, due to him gawking at you before he looked away to Sera, “Wait now? Don’t you think it’s too soon for any recruits?” He questions, pointing a thumb at you.

“She wanted a new job since she failed to do her own,” Sera explains to Adam as you rolled your eyes from her statement, “since she says she can handle a new one, I’m giving her this one.” Sera finishes, sitting down back in her chair, “But we were just about to start? she wont even have time to prepare?” Adam responds, scratching his horn confused from this sudden meeting, “Then I suggest you get started,” Sera commands, going back to skimming through papers, “Dismissed.” She says, as you and Adam turn to each other confused.

You both left together, him leading and you following silently and awkwardly, your confidence long and left you after Adam appeared. “So what’s your name again? Already forgot.” He says looking at you, bending down slightly for you to meet face to face, you backed away from his action, “err, Y/n.” you respond, looking away for a moment before looking back at him, “Well nice to meet you, names Adam, first man, best man.” He smiles, reaching his hand out for you to take, you hesitated before shaking his hand, wrying a smile, “pleasure.” You speak, only giving him that response.

You both exited the building before flying, going to who knows where, “soo, before we get started, should probably ask what you do before you jump in the big ordeal, what do you do and how can you benefit us?” He asks, you flying alongside him, “I can do stellar manipulation, cosmic manipulation and stellar healing but im terrible at it,” You rambled, pointing a finger up after listing off your abilities, “What I can do best is making sentient stars do my bidding, like the stars that are all over Halo city? I made those.” You smiled, “Woah! wait, you made all those things come alive? that’s fucking sick!” He says complimenting you, “So you must be a big deal huh?” He smirks, “Ehh, I guess?” You shrug slightly with a smile.

“Ohoh, if you can control those stars, then you’re perfect for this job.” He smirks as he lands, you landed behind him as you looked around at everyone, them all wearing the same suits, you were confused now, just what even is this job?

“Sir? where did you go?” a female voice asked, “Sera teleported me outta nowhere for me to bring someone along with us,” he explains pointing to you, you walk up to her, “greetings, I’m Y/n.” you smile and waved, “Lute, Adam’s Lieutenant.” She says as she straightens her posture, giving you a short and slim response. “Attention ladies! we have a sudden and new guest! this is uhh,” he pauses before leaning toward you, “fucks your name again?” he asks as you deadpanned, how does someone forget a name so fast? “Y/n.” You respond, “Y/n!” He says, “Seraphim of the stars or something.” He says, trying to make you sound like big talk, “She will be joining us today, she isn’t prepared but thats okay, she will just be an audience for today at most, so everyone prepare yourselves,” Adam says as they pull out spears, making your confusion more piqued, “and let’s this fucking show on a roll!” he shouts, a portal opening, him flying off with his lieutenant.

You were caught off guard from them suddenly flying off, you followed, a little behind but you caught up quickly to Adam, (being a seraphim and all) staying behind him and Lute, when you went through the portal, you paused in the air, confused on where in the world were you? everything was red, the sky, the ground, it wasn’t long before you started hearing screaming in the distance, the angel army was flying and attacking, monster like creatures, “What the fuck is this?” You say in shock, “Oh shit, you curse too? fucking sweet!” Adam says, showing up next to you, watching the angels slaughter the creatures, “where am I?!” You ask with a shaky voice, concern and worry filling your voice, “You’re in hell, bitch!” He says, summoning an angelic guitar made of pure gold, strumming it.

“WHAT?” You say absolutely baffled from his answer, you quickly turned to look down at the destroyed city, those little things running around and screaming, pleading for their lives as they get brutally slaughtered, “why are we killing them?! they did nothing!” You say in a terrified voice, looking back at Adam, “calm down bitch, fuck,“ He says, making you glare at him instantly, “they’re sinners! We give them divine judgment!” He smirks, flying down and killing a sinner without hesitation, “Stop it!” You tell at him, your angelic form appearing from how terrified you were to discover that your divine people were slaughtering innocent souls that have done nothing but accept their damnation, “No, you stop it!” He says, flying back up to you, making you fly back when he got too close, “Sera ordered you to follow my lead, you are under my command!” He yells back, an explosion happening behind him, a city building tumbling, you stared in guilt, you didn’t even do anything to them and yet all you could feel was pure sympathy and sorrow for those souls who didn’t deserve the judgment they were receiving.

“Now, you’re going down there and helping us kill these fuckers or you can sit and watch.” Adam orders, you didn’t have any words to respond with as you looked down at the sinners, there was a young lady who was carrying a child away from the chaos, you couldn’t help but watch, you were too stunned to process anything, Adam flew off mumbling something under his breath, definitely cursing at you but you didn’t even care at that moment.

An angel chasing quickly behind the two sinners, the angels spear charging towards the two, before you can even give a second thought, you summoned a star quickly, tossing it at the angel, hitting them down before they could hurt the two, you gasped, surprised from your own actions, you hurt an angel, the angels you’re supposed to care for and protect! you watched the angel shrug it off like nothing before flying away to a different direction, giving the sinners the chance to run, why was Heaving allowing slaughter? doesn’t this go against the very foundations of Heaven? why didn’t you know about this was ever happening? and how long has it been happening? Sera assigned you here, so it’s obvious she knows! why would she allow this- wait.. does the father of Heaven know?

You quickly flew down to the city to find Adam, to find answers, but all you saw was bloodshed and destruction, spears left behind and angels flying around like they were proud of themselves, it gave you a gut wrenching feeling, “please spare me! don’t kill me!” A voice called out, you turned to see a sinner running for their life, your eyes widen when you see an angel walking up to the sinner, a manic laugh following behind them, you ran toward the sinner and the angel, you stood between them both, stopping the angel in her tracks, “I command you to stop!” you say aggressively.

The angel taken back by your sudden actions and outburst, “What are you doing? move it.” the angel said, trying to shove you away but you pushed back and it made the angel push you completely to the ground, moved to the side, you didn’t have any attributes to physical fighting and it showed, you fell to the ground, looking up quickly to see the angel about to attack, without a second thought, you summons another star, a rather big one and made it push her aggressively, you made the star make the angel collide with a building, knocking the angel out, you gasped, not meaning to go that far but you turned to the sinner and ran to their aid, “are you okay??” you ask the terrified man before you, he looked at you in awe, you angelic features making the man stunned and mesmerized, “yes… thank yo- gh-“ the man choked, a spear through his throat, his blood splattered onto your clothes, hands and face, you closed your eyes for a moment from the sudden liquid of blood covering your face.

You opened your eyes and your eyes widened when you saw Adam and Lute in front of you, the sinner headless and long gone of life, “Fuck do you think you’re doing?” Adam said, yelling at you, you looked down and stared at the red, staining your hands, your breath hitched, you were trying to save a soul and it died immediately in front of you, before your very eyes, from feeling sympathy and sorrow, you clutched your hands tightly, a fit of rage riling up inside you, “ADAM! THIS STOPS NOW!” You shout, your angelic appearance in full as you flew into the air, cosmic dust following your form, your wings emitted cosmic dust, along with your hands, star dust following suit.

You glared at Adam, Lute glaring back at you, sensing you were about to become a threat, she immediately charged at you before swinging at you, you immediately summoned a star as a shield, side eyeing her, you made the star push her down, away from you, another star attacking her swiftly and powerfully, knocking her out too, Adam watched it happen so quickly, “What the fuck was that? what did you do to Lute?!” He says, going after you next, he was much slower but he managed to fight off your stars as he kept swinging at you, you being the faster flying, dodged easily, they may have been more experienced than you but they were so damn sloppy with their attacks. not to mention as a seraphim, you are much more stronger.

You flew higher into the air, a radiant aura forming around you, “This massacre ends now, Adam.” you say in a monotone voice, focusing on your power as you began to summon multiple stars, making all sentient at once, you were using a lot of stamina for this but you were willing to do this if it meant stopping this meaningless wrath of judgment.

You had made stars fall, multiple stars stuck onto Adam as he tried to fight them off but you made the goopy ones specifically for him, eventually he was invulnerable to move, the stars sticky and drippy, making it hard for him to struggle, you glared at Adam silently as he began to curse you out, you made a big star float flatly, carrying Lute back into the portal along with Adam as the stars took his guitar and carried it with him separately, your other stars retrieved the other angels in this army, dragging them all back forcefully to the portal, you made the other spare stars fly up to the skies and make it rain stardust in the skies, the dust was full of healing properties, making sure the sinners that survived could heal physical injuries, you hoped it was enough for them since you weren’t very experienced with the healing attributes you had, feeling your stamina drained, you flew back to the portal, closing it as you flew to the grounds of Heavens cloud, panting heavily, you had never used that much of your abilities like that before, all at once in fact.

You looked up to see Adam pissed off at, struggling to break free from goopy stars you still had on him, you laughed lightly at this, that shits kinda funny.

You splat onto the cloud, face first, regaining your stamina for a bit, meanwhile the whole army Adam had was conversing in confusing, they tried to help Adam get out of the goop but that only made the. stuck with him, you turned to lay on your back, wings following and looked up to the sky, for once, you felt rather proud of yourself for being able to full something like that but now it was the worse part to come, after recollecting your energy, you got up and flew off, dragging Adam with you, the stars of goop following as he muffled our screams.

When you returned to Sera’s office, you busted down the door with any respect, “Sera!” you shouted angrily, “We need to take about this job offer.” you grumbled, slamming your hands down her desk, the goop of stars putting Adam down as he deadpanned at you and Sera. Sera’s eyes widened from your sudden outburst and the blood covering your body, “I assume you couldn’t handle it?” Sera asked, after recollecting herself, “Handle it? I more than handled it, I dragged a whole fucking army back into Heaven!” You screamed, Sera glared as she stood up, “That was not your job, your job was to follow Adams orders!” she spoke back sternly, “This job and his orders are hypocritical to what we believe in! this is conflicting to the foundation of Heaven!” You argued back as Adam watched, Sera stared at you before sighing, “Can we speak alone about this?” she requests, eyeing Adam, signaling you to let him leave, “fine.” you scowl at her in detestation, you snap your fingers and the goop evaporated, also summoning his guitar to give back to him, “Christ, you’re a crazy bitch, you know that?” He says insultingly, he spoke as soon he got his guitar but you ignored him as the ordered the with a swift of your finger, the stars dragged him out the room and shut the door, all while you stared at Sera with displeasure.

“Why would you let winners and heaven born give divine judgment to sinners? What was your plan? What the fuck even is this job??” You began, hostility filling your voice. “The sinners were uprising, they were getting more and more bigger in population!” Sera responds, beginning her explanation, “and?” you asked unconvinced, “They were getting stronger, of they become to powerful, they may even reach the Heavens! they would take over and spread evil all over our realm.” She continues as you scoff, “and why would you think that? you doubting your fathers abilities to keep that under control?” you point out as she looks away, making you ponder, “does he even know you’re allowing your people to slaughter souls?” You ask.

She glared at you as she sat up in her seat, “He doesn’t and won’t know.” she says calmly and authoritatively, “seriously?! you’re doing this behind his back?!” You say, raising your voice in shock and anger, “unbelievable!” You say as you step beck from her desk, turning to leave her office, “and where do you think you’re going?” She asks, “where am I going? i’m going to tell all of Heaven on what the fuck you’re doing thats what!” you shout back, opening the door to leave but it shits immediately, Sera now in front of you, “you’re not going anywhere.” she says darkly, her figure towering over you as eyes appeared over her body, her angelic form showing.

You stepped back, looking at her staring daggers at her as she stepped closer to you, “and what makes you think I can’t?” you taunt, as she stood tall in front of you, “you will be silenced.” She says as pulls out an angelic spear of her own, knowing that she was threatening your life now, “What will Emily think when she finds you slaughtered her own sister?” You ask, putting up a facade of bravery, trying not show that she was getting to you, “Emily is not your sister.” Sera says aggressively and threateningly with pure hostility in her voice, seeing as that got to her it made you smug, “We’ll see when she finds out about how you allow her people kill the innocent.” You smirk with a shit-eating grin, knowing that no matter what she did, it wouldn’t turn out well for her.

It in-fact: did not turn out well for you, “We’ll see, when you’re gone for good.” She says as she swiftly moved you too quickly for you to react, her angelic spear carving your back, a mass amount of pain following as you screamed, you fell forward as she pushed you down as she stabbed her spear through her wing, making you wince in pain, adrenaline fueling your body from the shock that she actually took this path of violence. You tried to get up but she stepped on your back, pushing you back down, you look up at her in fear, her cold dead eyes staring into yours, “long before you know it, Emily will forget you even exist.” She says, swinging at your back again as you scream from agony, golden blood now mixing into the dried blood that covered you, you were shaking from terror and pain, she picked you up from your neck, as you struggled in her grasp, “stop- it!-“ you begged, trying to breathe, trying to kick her off you as golden blood dripped onto the ground in her office, she didn’t respond as she opened a portal, you turned to look, the familiar red skies before your very eyes, you turn to Sera desperately, “Don’t do this!-“ you gasped, struggling more in desperation, “You can’t!” You say, trying to pull her grasp off you, you were losing air and the stamina in your body.

“But I will.” She says with no solace or pity in her voice, she threw you into the portal with a second thought, closing it quickly, you gasped for air, adrenaline fueling your body as you regained oxygen to breathe but that was the least of your worries now, you were falling and your wings were to injured to fly, you were panicking as you tried to use your wings to fly but the pain was to unbearable, you saw your stars in the sky from earlier, protecting the sinners, thats it! thats your only ticket, you immediately tried to summon stars but it was a struggle to do so from how much power you already used from earlier, you had to overexert your abilities again, you mustered all the strength you had left within you, your angelic form showing as a bright colorful aura gleamed around you, you summoned stars but it was so hard to focus with adrenaline and panic that was fueling your body, you manage to make some stars but they were falling with you, some staying in place in the air for you to land on but you would quickly bounce off them from impact, you couldn’t focus at all, the sky rained stars that you had tried to quickly make but failed to use, it was too late as you crashed into the ground, a crater formed around you.

Your whole body hurt, it hurt more than anything you felt before, you weakly tried to sit up, you look at something glowing on the ground, you look to see a lavender blue star, the imperfect perfect star Emily had gifted you fell out of your hair, you winced in pain as your reached for the star, grabbed it and holding it to your chest as you laid back onto the ground, completely lost of any stamina and energy left to give.

Golden blood began to surround and puddle around you, the adrenaline and pain was the only thing keeping you awake right now, you laid there weakly, looking at the now red skies, you couldn’t do anything but only to try and breathe, trying to stay away, you were alone and no one in hell was going to go and try to save you. You were helpless, alone, once again. You couldn’t help but cry, scream in pain, why was this always happening to you? Why couldn’t you just find happiness? Why couldn’t the universe- help its only and dearest child? Your screams were so loud but they always heard im deaf ears, why did fate choose you to suffer this path? you screamed until you couldn’t anymore, you stared at the red sky as you waited for your in pending death. While looking at the sky, you see the stars shift toward you, raining their star dust onto you, the dust leaving soft touches on your skin, they felt like cool kisses, soothing your pain, you smiled weakly at your creations, your eyes feeling heavy as they tried closing, you fighting to keep them open but you eventually lost that battle.

eventually, everything went to black.

✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧

TAGLISTT WEEEE:

@ag-cookiebat800 @meow-meowo @kyo-kyo1 @darling-may-i @pink-apples001

[smuttysabina]

A Month with Aespa (Ch 2): An Intriguing Offer

(Male Reader x Karina, 2700 words) Tags: Nudity, Happy Idols, Tittyfucking, Sex, Maids, Awkward Dinner Conversations

Read Chapter 1 Here!

Grandfather always said that the best way to be awoken is with a woman's lips around your member; and you can hardly disagree. Alas, your usually morning greeting has been foregone this time, as you wish to conserve your vigor for your new guests. And so, dolefully, your morning glory wilts away unaided, as you go about your usual routine (minus plowing one of the maids of course). You are admittedly a touch disgruntled therefore as you break your fast in your room; a light spread supported by some coffee. The darling maid who brought it to you gives you pointed looks, obviously keen to relieve you, but you politely refuse her; truly this morning will be a trying one. Dressing yourself, as the maid makes your expansive bed, (it fits eight), you stretch and work the kinks out, already planning the rest of your day. With a resigned sigh, you ask after your guests, feeling your manhood straining against your pants at the thought of such gorgeous goddesses awakening in the nude; in your own house... You push such unctuous thoughts aside, it would be impolite to press things so quickly, best to let Aespa adjust to their new surroundings. There will be time enough later to indulge...

Your maid tactfully replies to your earlier query; it seems that Winter has been buzzing around the kitchens, shyly gobbling down whatever strikes her fancy. Ningning is apparently still snoring, asleep even at this late an hour. Giselle meanwhile has ordered her breakfast, and seems to enjoy imperiously bossing the the housemaids around; your dear informant seems quite excited by this, going so far as to suggest the idol soon may be taking certain liberties with them... Simply delightful. Finally, the socialite of last evening Karina has ensconced herself in her room, scarfing down the meal brought to her as she plays mobile games on her phone. Pleased at this information, you kindly thank the girl, wistfully holding back on granting her her usual reward; such a disruption these idols are causing!

Pushing aside the issue of a restless and rowdy staff, you decide to ease your worries with some heavy reading. Retiring to the library, you attempt to relax amongst its tall shelves and comfortable décor. Ignoring the more titillating works entirely (which are mostly unstained, guests are politely invited to relieve themselves inside of the maids rather than the books themselves), you peruse the stacks until you find something suitably dry. Depositing yourself into your usual cozy armchair by the windows, you put your legs up and enjoy the view. Grandfather's ornate gardens stretch out before you, with winding paths and ivy-covered ruins, a plethora of intimate spaces to enjoy with a lover. Burbling streams cross through the area, feeding into serene ponds and Classical fountains. There is even a pool, with an adjoining steam room and hot tub large enough to fit many guests. Feeling much more calm now, you immerse yourself in the vagaries of history, whiling away the hours until lunch is brought to you. You dismiss the maid with only a perfunctory groping, leaving her pouting as she sashays away. Shaking your head, you return your attentions to the past, where you are at least spared from such vulgar temptations.

But it seems that the Gods have not yet finished in testing their wayward son, as the buzz of excited conversation reaches your ears. Glancing out the window, you see that Aespa have discovered the gardens, and are quite enthused by what they've found. They chatter animatedly as they tour the area, walking along its shaded paths and cooling their feet in the clear water, clambering through the the trees and ruins, delighting in their explorations. Surprisingly, the sight of the sources of your rather distinct torment frolicking does not pain your loins; instead you feel only a sense of contentment at their happiness. The girls deserve some down time, and you are loath to interrupt their obvious joy. So you return to your reading with a satisfied smile, idly letting time pass until a loud splash interrupts your ruminations. Bemused, you return you gaze to the pool in time to see a goddess erupt from the water; Aphrodite reborn! You gasp as you take in the sublime spectacle of Karina shaking the water out of her hair, her heaving breasts barely contained by a jet black swim top. You are utterly captivated as she laughs gleefully, splashing towards the rest of the girls who perch at the edge of the pool. You find yourself unusually flustered at the sight of Karina gallivanting around in the water; perhaps your unnatural restraint was affecting your more than you had anticipated.

Resolving that a good wash would steady you, you head down to the communal showers (to think that some people prefer bathe alone, insanity!) to sooth your uneasy mind. After stripping in the changing room, you stride confidently into the steamy bathing area; encountering several equally nude maids who were just leaving. They giggle and roll their eyes at your chastity, surely your madness would soon pass and things would return to normal (If one counts fornicating with the hired help several times a day as normal, which they do). Stalking along the well-tractioned floor (The Old Man had insisted on being able to rail the maids safely while showering), you wrench several levers open, filling the vast room with a roiling curtain of steam. Sighing, you allow the hot water to broil your worries away, granting you some much needed clarity. Perhaps it would be best to relieve yourself with some of the maids, you would truly prefer to give Aespa more time to settle in before- ah, speak of the Devil! As if summoned by your wayward thoughts, Karina lithely glides into the showers, curiously glancing around as she takes the expansive room in. She is still in her swimsuit, most likely out of confusion from the unique (to her) bathroom, than intent to wear it while she cleans the chlorine off of herself. Karina is startled to find herself not alone, but quickly recovers her composure, giving you a coquettish glance as she fiddles with a showerhead near you. She politely ignores your staggeringly large erection, instead seamlessly complimenting you on your beautiful gardens. Your thoughts move sluggishly, but in a ringing endorsement of your upbringing, your mind automatically answers such platitudes. You both dance around the issue at hand, making inane conversation for several minutes until you amusingly inquire whether Karina will need to wash her swimwear off afterwards, considering how assiduously she is cleaning it now. She pauses at this, giving you a questioning look, silently asking if your joke indicated a deeper desire. You disarm her worries with a kindly smile to dismiss her worries of your intentions; you really would be have to plow the maids tonight... Then Karina makes her offer.

Karina proposes that she will allow you to lay with her once per day without resistance, should you spare the other members of Aespa from your attentions. Your loins roil with lust at this idea, your heart surging in appreciation of this deal. How brave she must be, to offer her own body up like this, truly she is what a leader should aspire to be; willingly sacrificing herself for her groupmates! The sheer courageousness of Karina in this matter nearly makes you weep, the romanticism of it all sends your blood singing through your veins. You nearly give in. Nearly. While your soul swoons with adoration, your mind remains relatively clear and focused, unbothered for now by the lust pounding through your body (One quickly learns to keep your head while lustful in Grandfather's house; after losing years' worth of allowance to canny maids, you figure out how to remain cognizant while engaging in vulgar activities. Also the blowjobs during Calculus tests did wonders, though you still feel strangely excited by derivatives). But even your magnificent control is being eroded away by the mere thought of carnal relations with this idol; your uncomforted manhood eagerly urging your acceptance. You are not your father's son for nothing however, and you put on a show of calm as you politely amend her offer, should Karina manage to make you finish within ten minutes; you will agree. Past that, then well, how could you concede to such a deal that would net you such mediocre sex?

Wreathed in steam, Karina is seemingly taken aback by this riposte; evidently she had thought you too consumed by lust to offer much resistance. She straightens her spine however, and takes you up on your challenge, confidently stalking close until you are almost touching. You indicate towards the clock on the wall, casually informing her that she may begin when ready; which she is. Karina breathes, "This won't take long", and squishes herself against you. When her soft hand grazes your erection you almost gasp at the electric thrill it sends through you, causing Karina's demeanor to grow ever bolder; surely she thinks that this will be easy... Falling to her knees before you, the bubbly idol strokes your shaft professionally, clearly intent on ending this contest before things get too out of hand. But you resist her efforts manfully, and she pouts in sudden irritation at this setback. So she brings out the big guns (per say), unlimbering her impressive breasts out of her top, leaning back for you to appreciate them in their full splendor. Truly, what a sight they are! While not the largest breasts you have ever seen (or carnally enjoyed), they are still beautifully shaped, and are easily the largest amongst Aespa. With a haltingly teasing smile, Karina squishes her bust together, courteously inviting you to mount them for you satisfaction. In an admittedly boorish haste, you accept, obligingly testing the softness of each breast with your member before sliding between them. The cozy closeness of Karina's bosom nearly ends you then and there; enfolding you within its sultry embrace as if graciously encouraging you to spill your seed upon her chest. As your pace begins to quicken and grow ever more regular, it seems as if you may just comply with Karina's body's seductive encouragements. Karina smirks up at you, and you realize that you are doing all the work for her; making you unmindfully forget the true objective of this coupling. With an impressed huff, you slow your thrusts, gallantly inquiring if the lady would deign to put some effort in. The lady rolls her eyes, but complies, expertly copying your earlier movements with professional ease; bringing you once more to the brink.

Evidently you were unwise to underestimate Karina's sensual skills, and your already aroused mood has really not helped with things. So with slightly desperate enthusiasm, you offer to pleasure Karina in turn, after all, it would be a poor host who does not see to his guests needs... But she brushes this delaying tactic off with negligible ease, firmly insisting that it would be the height of incivility for her to ignore her host's in his greatest time of need! Perhaps she would submit to such reciprocity once this pressing matter has been dealt with to your utmost satisfaction. Grasping at straws, you counter with the argument that the apex of any intimacy is the act of sex; so it would be unseemly to suggest the you are truly being satisfied in the highest possible fashion. Karina pauses as the gears turn in her head, glancing at the clock (five minutes left!) before muttering something rude under her breath. With a resigned sigh she releases your manhood from its fleshy prison, clambering back to her feet as she looks around for a suitable location for safe copulation. Luckily for the both of you, the showers are festooned with all manner of bars and handles; there is even an ergonomically shaped fuck-seat that supports almost any position. Courteously, you gently press Karina in which position she would like to couple in; after all, time is running out... Banishing her unease, she confidently decides that she will be on top, and firmly asks that you sit down so she might finish things. You are equally eager to proceed, less from time constraints and more at the cloying excitement that surges through you at the thought of entering Karina.

Reclining in the plastic seat, Karina swiftly pulls the bottom half of her bikini off, revealing her tender sex to you for the first time. Giddiness floors you at the the sight, you feel as if you are a virgin again, about to experience for the first time the warmth of a women. Karina blushes at your scrutiny, hands moving instinctively to cover herself before pausing; she gives you an awkward twitch of the lips. Remembering your manners, you sincerely compliment her on her beauty, before giving permission to continue as she wishes. Nodding sharply, Karina lithely straddles you, hauling your member up before inserting you fully into her font without preamble. Her pussy is exquisite. It accepts your entire length without complaint, yet also effortlessly grips your shaft; truly a divine combination that sends you reeling. Then she is riding you, her heavy breasts enticingly quivering with every movement, her dark brown nipples hardening and pressing outwards. It is a wonder that you do not inseminate her immediately, but your febrile desire to enjoy Karina to the fullest holds your building orgasm at bay. Something which grows ever more difficult as she shows off some genuinely spectacular acrobatic feats atop your cock. Her hips trace in the air mesmerizing geometric patterns, her taut stomach flexing and curling as your member is subjected to one of the most intense sexual techniques you have experienced. But Karina does not have it all her way, your own hips buck adroitly as she moves, intuitively seeking her sensitive spots even as she nimbly bounces on you. Color rapidly fills both your cheeks, until you can no longer contain the pent-up passion that has filled you since you had awoken. With a mighty groan you give in, and the damn breaks, causing you to shuddering painfully as your massive load explodes inside of Karina. Who in turn lets out a gasp of surprise, her own sex spasming as her legs twitch from her sudden orgasm. Rising from where she collapsed onto your heaving chest, Karina looks down on you with astonishment, clearly she had not realized exactly how much she was enjoying herself until your seed gushed inside of her. She blinks, before starting and jerking her eyes toward the clock... Karina appears mortified, and as you glance back you can see why, it was over 20 minutes past the starting time; even discounting the delay as you bandied terms, she had been riding you for over 15 minutes and had failed to notice it.

Blushing deeply with shame and embarrassment, she hurriedly clambers off of your dirtied member. She awkwardly showers off the juices you exertions produced, shyly rebuffing your compliments and intimacy before fleeing the room. Bemused and a touch put-out, you watch her go, perhaps she should learn to be a bit more honest with herself... Your mood is improved somewhat by the arrival of two more maids, who throw teasing glances at your crotch. Looking down, you realize that your session with Karina had failed to fully satiate the naughty thing between your legs. With a tired exhalation, you motion the girls over, and soon have one of them bent over against the wall, while the other laps at your swaying sack. Perhaps relying on the maids would not be the worst of ideas, even with your beauteous guests about...

That night's supper is a touch more awkward than the last, even with the lack of more formal wear. In a complete reversal of the previous night, Karina is rather withdrawn and shy, unabashedly chugging wine; making even Winter seem gregarious by comparison. Giselle remains as haughtily teasing as always, and seems to enjoy needling her leader's unexpectedly introverted mood. Ningning on the other hand seems mostly curious at the change, eyes darting suspiciously between you and Karina as she observes your interactions. The slightest of smiles touches her lips, before transforming into a scowl...

A/N: Well this one went longer than I expected, I hoped you all enjoyed it though! Its pretty enjoyable writing some fluff lol

[gingernut1314]

Don't Jinx It ch. 5

Summary: Silco comes to visit you at work to let you know he has a surprise to show you.

Content: female reader, gendered terms, pre-season 1 arcane, Nadia is Viktor's mom, young Silco, young Sevika, young reader, pre-Sheriff Grayson, reader using water manipulation, unrequited love, slight Arcane season 2/League of Legends spoiler (Janna, The Gray)

Word Count: 4.5K

A/N: so I'm still SCREAMING over those Vander flashbacks and Silco--SILCO my loveeee. So we're giving Silco long hair as per canon eheheeheh its perfect. Also we're aged up a bit now so lots of fun! I hope you all enjoy!

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Act 2: 

Four Years Later

For the past year or so the same small batch of enforcers visited at your Boss’ diner-shop. A batch of enforcers you were convinced your boss only let in cause she had made friends with their Sergent. A one Ms. Sergeant Grayson. 

You, Nadia, and Sevika watched Grayson and Boss laugh together in the booth they occupied, chatting with each other like they’d known each other their whole lives. 

“I still don’t get it.” Sevika gruffed, slicing into a gray-scaled fish you two had helped catch that morning. “Boss hates enforcers. Spits on their shiny gold badges any time she spots one, but she’s all but eating out of the palm of that one's hand.” 

“They’re fucking.” You chimed in from where you leaned against the counter watching the spectacle unfold before you. “They have to be fucking. That’s the reason.” 

“So vulgar.” Nadia shook her head at you two, nose wrinkled at your words. “Maybe Boss has just made a friend in her. Is that so hard to believe?” 

“No, no. You’re right.” Sevika started, beginning to slice the pink flesh of the fish into tiny strips. “Boss definitely’s been in her. That’s for sure.” You laughed while Nadia huffed. 

“You two are barbarians.” You flipped around, snatching a bit of sliced fish Sevika had just cut. You grabbed for a second slice before you had even shoved the first into your mouth, the woman chopping her knife all too close to your fingers in her way of telling you to knock it off. 

“You know we can’t help it, Nadia.” You mumbled around chews, the fish nearly melting on your tongue. You offered the second slice to Nadia who took it gently. 

“Unfortunately, I do know.” She huffed, taking a small bite from the bit of fish. 

“You coming to hang out with us tonight?” You asked Nadia hopefully. 

“Forgive me.” You gave a dramatic groan Sevika mimicked. “Nikolai and I are taking Viktor to spy on the newest…eh…flying…ship?” You quirked a brow at her as she bit another near-mouse-sized bite from her slice of fish. 

“Airship?” 

“Yes!” She beamed at you, “I prefer to keep my eyes on the earth and my paints but you know how my boy is.” You nodded, peaking a glance at the fish Sevika was still cutting up. 

“He still gonna build me that mini-fridge?” You joked, slyly inching your fingers closer and closer to the bits of fish. Nadia chuckled at your words. 

“I think in the near future, yes. He’s slowly beginning to toy with bigg--” You yelped when Sevika snatched hold of your wrist and yanked you closer. 

“You keep being a little seagull and Boss’ girlfriend is gonna have none.” You smirked up at her. 

“You think that’s it? They're together together?” Sevika gave you a long roll of her eyes, releasing your wrist. “It’s a perfectly tragic story. Two enemies turned lovers yearning for each other despite everything.” You gave a playful gasp. “They’re forbidden lovers.” 

“You two need to stop meddling in their business. They just seem to be friends.” Nadia chimed in. 

“You’re right, Dee. Enemies to friends to lovers.” Sevika joined in once more, taking a slice of fish and tossing it your way. You caught it just as Nadia sighed deeply. “Makes it even more tragic.” You gave a mockingly mournful nod. 

“You two are insufferable.” She popped the last of her fish into her mouth before she went back to her tables. Tables you and Sevika had purposely made sure were other like Undercitians, not wishing Nadia to be near the true barbarians of the night. 

Nadia was kind. Too trusting of others and both of you feared it would only lead to an enforcer getting the wrong idea.

You and Sevika, on the other hand, had no problem letting those bucket heads know just where they could shove it. And if they needed a bit of help neither of you had any problems doing it for them.

You had just shoved your newest piece of fish into your mouth when the bell hanging above the door gave a ring. 

“Better tell him it’s not a good time before Boss kills him,” Sevika spoke, gray eyes looking to who had just walked in. Excitement shot through your chest fast at her words, knowing exactly who she had spoken them about in moments. 

You tried your best to not whip around in your search for him. You didn’t want him to actually think you were excited to see him. No…nope. Not at all.

Silco’s seafoam gaze found you instantly, a small smile tugging to his lips as he walked over. 

“You have two minutes Silco,” Boss called from her booth, her eyes not lifting once from her glass of wine, which she gave a small swirl. “Before I let this one take you back with her to Piltover.” 

“Be gone in one,” Silco responded, Boss giving a heavy sigh.

Grayson, despite her being a horrid badge-wearing oppressor, was fair. She was one of the very few enforcers, maybe even the only enforcer, who didn’t have a stick shove so far up their ass it stuck out of their mouth. 

And she chuckled at Boss, saying something only she could hear. 

“Gods--I mean their practically fucking right in front of us,” Sevika muttered so only you and the quickly approaching Silco could hear.

“What do you think?” You asked in way of greeting Silco, who pulled so close you could smell the fresh shower he had just taken. It was a smell you thoroughly enjoyed, one you wanted to grab and rub your face all over, but one you knew had a bitter backing. 

The same year you had met Silco, Piltover had reopened the mines they had promised would stay closed forever. Opened them in the promise of progress and ample jobs for all. In helping ease the “struggle of the good people” down here.

You wanted to say it was fine at first. That it gave jobs to those who might not have had one otherwise. That Piltover might be right for once, but you would only be fooling yourself. 

Working in those mines was like dancing with death herself and Piltover knew it just as well as everyone else.

You had the usual risks, cave mouths collapsing and people getting lost within the labyrinth that the mines made up, but then there was the Gray. Smoke that still leaked its way out into The Lanes from past generations, more so now thanks to the mines having reopened as such. 

And the Gray--well, the Gray was death’s lover. 

Smoke so thick you couldn’t see through it. A smog that clogged your throat and made it feel like every breath you took filled your lungs with a thousand tiny needles.

Janna, the very Winds of the Undercity, had been trying ever since its birth to rid its poisonous wrath from us. She told you the story of her first coming to the Undercity a few times over the years. She had been called here on the prayers of the people who were suffering from its oppressive choking hold. She had managed to keep it at bay. To give the people a moment's relief to breathe freely.

But ever since then, she has been struggling to try and purify the smog. 

It was a story she typically told you when she had you practice trying to purify the waters lapping at The Lanes’ jagged edges. 

And every time she had you practice, every time she told you her tale, you asked how you were supposed to do the same if she, who was a goddess, couldn’t even do it herself?

She would settle you with her glowing, unblinking gaze before instructing you to try again. 

All play no work that one…if only. 

You hated that Silco and Vander went down there, especially since there was nothing to be done for the Gray. It was something you told him many times that same year he had started work. So many times he had snapped at you to stop because it wouldn’t change a thing. 

What very little money the boys earned went right into The Last Drop to keep it standing as Piltover rose taxes and Vander’s father passed, leaving every leak and creaky floorboard to him.

So you agreed to stop bothering him with your worries…though it did nothing to keep you from doing so voicelessly. 

“Oh, I don’t know.” Silco glanced their way, the two seeming to have grown even closer in the two seconds you had taken your eyes off them. “Seems a perfectly typical interaction between officer and civilian.” His eyes found yours own more, a smirk tugging at his lips. 

You couldn’t help but look over every feature you could get away with looking at. Took in his nicely sharp features, his thinly soft-looking lips, and the shaggy hair he was allowed to grow out. Hair he planned on growing out so long he could braid it and gods did you agree. 

No longer was he the scraggly and bony teen you had first met. No, he had grown rather handsome. 

Painfully so. 

A beauty you struggled to think past most days.

And just as you knew how handsome he had grown, so had the rest of the Undercity. Women and men alike were drawn in by his looks and his smooth talk. 

His all-seeing and ever-calculating eyes only grew sharper. Eyes he used to see just how to make a girl grow ever the more flustered and fidgety under it. Eyes he used to track and log just what they liked to hear from him. 

He had become quite the playboy, capturing the hearts of many but never holding onto them for long. 

You think it has grown into a game to him. A game to see how many he can draw in and claim. See how many he can break in the same breath. 

You think sometimes he tries to play the game with you…and oh do you wish to play, but you knew he never truly meant the looks and the playful words he sent your way. 

You two were…friends. 

Strictly. 

Even when it disappointed you greatly. 

“Nah, they’re screwing.” Sevika huffed, reeling you back in from Silco’s charming looks. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked him, backing slightly away only for your hips to hit the counter. His eyes quickly tracked your movements. Movements he did the opposite of and stepped closer one more. 

“You get off work at seven.” He matter of factly told you. 

“What? Do you keep my schedule pinned to your wall or something?” Silco all but rolled his eyes at you. 

“I have something to show you.” Curiosity sparked at your heart and you instantly leaned closer despite knowing you should keep far away for your own heart's sake. 

“Ooo…what is it?” 

“And ruin the surprise?” You nodded quickly. Surprises were great but you found yourself impatience. Silco teasingly smirked your way. “Never.” And just like that he pulled away, leaving you feeling as if you had been tossed around by a riptide. “I’ll be back at seven.” He called to you as he headed back for the door. 

You swallowed sharply.

“Yeah. Okay.” You called back. 

You watched him give Nadia a small wave goodbye, the woman more than edger to do the same, before he was back out the door like he never was there in the first place. 

Sevika huffed at you, gaining your attention once more. 

“What?” 

“Nothin’.” You watched her sharply as she plated the beautifully cut fish on an equally as beautiful plate. She fixed you with an all-too-teasing gaze. “You two are just as bad. No…no. Worse. You’re worse.” Your brows furrowed in confusion as she passed you the plate to take over to the Boss and Sergent Grayson. 

“What do you mean?” Sevika all but ignored you, looking back over the diner.

“Dee, it’s worse right?” Sevika called to Nadia who was carrying a stack of dirty plates back to the kitchen. 

“Much worse.” She agreed as she passed. Before you could snap at the two for an answer, Boss called your name sounding not pleased. 

“This is not over.” You huffed Sevika’s way who only smirked back at you. 

“Sure, guppy. Sure.” 

You spent the rest of your shift cursing yourself for not having packed a better change of clothes. You had planned on being able to head home to change into something a little more nice before you went to The Last Drop, but Silco’s surprise threw a big wrench in your plans.

Not that you were complaining. Not truly.

You would pick hanging out with Silco over a nicer pair of clothes any day.

You found Silco waiting outside for you just as he had said, messing around with one of his daggers. He perked up instantly when you emerged, dagger put away as you came to his side.

“So…you want to tell me now?” You asked, only for Silco to lean downward so that he was looking directly into your eyes. You felt your heart give another damning flutter in your chest. 

“Tsk, tsk.” He smirked, “Impatient thing aren’t we?”

“This just something you're figuring out?” Silco gave a small, amused huff of air from his nose. Those seafoam eyes danced over your face, not helping the restless movement in your chest.

“Come,” He gestured with his head for you to follow. “It’s not too far away.”

“As soon as I drop Nadia off I’m getting drunk, ya hear you two!” Sevika called as you began following after Silco. 

“Won’t take long,” Silco called back to her. 

“Better not.” She shouted, “I’m itching to beat you at cribbage tonight.” 

“Want to bet on that outcome?” Silco glanced back to the woman, eyes bright in the promise of competition. 

Your two friends were unchallengeable at any card game they played. Their smarts and trickery were not something to go up against lighty.

When the two played against each other, the game always was a close one. One point could determine the winner.

And between the two…you would bet on Silco to win. He was the only person in all of the Undercity you had known to ever beat Sevika and beat her he did every time. 

Sevika, of course, never admitted it.

“Nah, 'cause I know I’m winning. No need to jinx it all to hell on a damn bet.” She called back as she started off with Nadia. 

“If she wishes to win that bad all she needs to do is play against you.” You sharply shoved Silco away who only gave a chuckle. 

“You’re an asshole.” You huffed, pulling the strap of your patched-up bag further up your shoulder. “I can play cards.” 

“You can play Go Fish.” 

“Hell yeah I can play Go Fish! I’m the best damn Go Fish player in all of The Undercity. No--The Undercity and Piltover.” You threw your arms out dramatically as you turned on your heel to face Silco as you walked backward. “In the entirety of Runterra.” Silco quirked an amused brow at you.

“Oh really? The whole world?” You gave a humming nod. “Well then, Go Fish World Champion, we’ll play tonight.” 

“And I’ll beat you.” You knew you wouldn’t. Even in the only card game you had mastered, Silco was still the best at it. 

“Want to bet on it?” You turned on your heel once more to face away from him. 

“Nope. Sevkia’s right. Betting beforehand is only going to jinx it.” You once more adjusted the strap of your bag.

“Jinxes are just a fiction.” You shrugged. 

“Maybe…but what if they're not? Huh? What are you gonna do then?” You asked, craning your head to look back at Silco who was watching you closely, an easy smile on his thin lips that you couldn’t help but mimic. 

“Then I guess I’ll face it head-on.” He quickened his pace a bit to come back to your side. “Let me carry your bag for you.” He offered his hand out for the item. 

“You trying to steal from me?” You asked in mock concern. 

“Oh yes. I want your dirty work clothes and sea shells.” You shrugged. 

“You're right. The sea shells would be worth stealing.” You pulled the tote from your shoulder and handed it to Silco, who slung it over his. “Got a pocket watch in there too.” 

“Oh? And where did that come from?” He asked, pulling at the edge of the bag to look for said watch.

“Those enforcers were so generous. Just gave it to me out of the goodness of their heart.” Silco let the bag fall back against his side. 

“How kind of them.” He huffed. “Why your boss feeds them is beyond me.” You gave a sharp nod. 

“Agreed. That’s why we think there is something else going on. Boss kills enforcers on the spot typically.” Silco shook his head, eyes turning away from you as a deep anger filled them. 

“Shiny things are nice,” Silco started, seemingly changing the topic.

“Very nice.” You agreed once more. 

“But it’s not worth putting you at risk.” Concern. He was concerned for you and was telling you that. 

You couldn’t help that damn fluttering again.

“I thought we agreed a long time ago not to do this.” Silco’s hardened eyes glanced back down at you, seafoam softening at their edge the longer he watched you. 

“Do what?” 

“Oh please be careful. Oh, I’m so scared for you. Oh, those big bad enforcers are going to catch you. Oh please be safe.” Silco gave you a dramatic eye roll at your mockery.

“Please. I’m hardly saying any of that.” You gave him just as dramatic an eye roll back. 

“Really? Then what are you saying?” 

“I’m saying--” Silco’s gaze flickered quickly over your face before looking away once more. “That if you steal from them enough your boss will find out.” 

“Still kinda feel like you're worried about me.” You felt Silco’s hand on your arm only for it to shove you away. A wicked cackle pulled from your throat. 

“Look whose being the asshole now.” Silco gruffed. 

Silco led you down another street, through an alleyway, climbed down a steep stairway that seemed to go on forever, and right back down another street before coming to a small, hardly used bridge. 

You knew you were right on the border of the Promenade Level, where your boss’ diner-shop was located, and the Enthresol Level which was where The Last Drop beat at the heart of the city. 

You had taken this route a few times in the past. Only ever with Silco, so you were familiar with it, but why you two were taking this roundabout way to the bar was what nagged at your curiosity when you could have just walked back with Sevkia. 

“What are you--” Silco pressed a thin finger to his lips, telling you to keep quiet before heading for the metal ladder built into the side of the bridge. 

You followed close behind, the bite of cold metal digging into your palms. Silco hopped onto the grated platform, rusted bits of metal having created holes here and there within its flooring, before turning to offer you his hand. 

You took it, even though you knew you didn’t need his help, but you knew you needed to be able to feel his skin against yours. Chill skin that was covered in tiny scars and callouses that always made you feel like it was just the two of you in that moment.

He didn’t let go of your hand as he led you over the platform and you couldn’t help the growing warmth that his hand was creating in you. A warmth that rushed up your arm and all over your body. Warmth that made that damning flutter grow near pounding. 

You made it all the way to the other side of the platform and that's when you heard it.

It was soft at first. A sound you almost didn’t believe you were truly hearing until you were standing before the source, staring at the bundle of twigs, string, fur, and hair nestled between a rounded design in the arch of the bridge. 

“Oh…Silco…” You breathed, watching the small, featherless baby birds chirping and chirping for their mother, little bulging bellies no doubt starving. 

“Fantastic aren’t they?” You nodded, holding his hand a little tighter. 

“How--they shouldn’t be able to live down here.” Your voice was quiet to keep from startling the babies, but also in disbelief. 

Quiet in a growing dread that they probably wouldn’t make it for very long. 

“Yes…yes, it’s quite strange.” Silco spoke just as softly as you. “I saw their mother and followed her down here. Found these sweet ones.” You felt his hand hold yours just as tightly back. “But this means it can really happen.” You turned away from the miracle before you to look up at him. 

Silco’s seafoam eyes were already watching you.

And you knew that look in his eyes. A look he only got when talking about one thing. 

“Zaun.” He nodded, that hopeful gleam in his eyes burning with passion. It was a dream you all let burn deep within your bellies. A dream you all spoke of often. Spoke of enough you all had given such an outlandish wish a name. 

You turned to look back at the babies, who still had yet to stop begging for food. 

“But what if…those plants don’t even live near the bridge.” You thought of the rooftop you two had first encountered each other on. A roof where someone had been trying to grow tomatoes, though those tomatoes had withered and died before they could even yield a ripe crop.

“We’ll come visit them. Maybe we can help keep them going.” You nodded, even though your negative side nagged at you that it wouldn’t matter. That these sweet babies would wither and die before they had even sported their first feathers. 

As if reading your mind, Silco grabbed your other hand, turning you to face him. To bare his determination for Zuan down onto you. 

“It will happen.” He spoke like he was trying to convince himself it would. You nodded again.

“I believe it. We’ll make it happen.” But that look didn’t fade from his eyes. A look that mixed with something else that told you something was upsetting him. Something outside of the typical truths of your lives you lived down here in the filth. “What--did something happen?” You asked hesitantly. 

“I--” He hesitated himself. It had taken Silco a long time to fully be able to open up to you. Friends you may be, he kept his true feelings, deep dark ones, hidden behind a high wall. And though he more freely spoke with you on such topics now, you knew it was still a struggle. That, even though the wall had created a door for you to peek inside, the door wasn’t always unlocked.

“A mine shaft caved in this morning.” It was all he had to say for you to understand what had happened. For you to know why he had followed the bird down here. Why he had come to visit you at work. Why he had voiced his worry for you. 

Because he’d seen death today. 

More death that only Piltover could be blamed for and Zaun was Silco’s--no, everyone’s last bit of hope for things to get better.

You silently pulled him closer. Silently pulled your hands from his only so you could wrap them around his waist and hold him tight. And Silco silently let you hug him, when typically such affection was slapped away. 

Silco snaked his hands around your own waist, pulling you flush against his thin, yet strong body. You felt his breath against your neck as he buried his face there, warming your skin nicely.

You two stood like that for a long moment. Long enough that the babies stopped chirping, thinking you two had turned statue. 

“I have an idea.” You murmured, giving him one last, tight squeeze before pulling away. Typically you would curse yourself for ending such a moment. A moment you so rarely got but you wanted to try and lift his spirits, if just for a moment. 

Silco watched you carefully as you reached into your bag, which you didn’t bother pulling from his shoulder. You rummaged around for a little bit, making all the random trinkets you carried in it clink together until you pulled out one of the larger shells and your canteen, which you had learned to always carry with you for easy access to water. 

“What are you doing?” He asked to which you tossed him a playful smirk.

“And ruin the surprise? Never.” He huffed in amusement at your repeat of his words from earlier that night. 

He watched you carefully as you found a level spot on the bridge to place the shell, before unscrewing the canteen. With little effort, you reached for the water with your magic, pulling a fist-sized droplet of water out. 

Silco eyes shimmered in fascination, pulling so close his shoulder was pressed against yours. You once more savored the touch, turning yourself so you could peek unstrained glances up at his seafoam eyes here and there as you worked. 

“For their mama. And for these three when they grow up.” You said. Silco glanced down at you as you let the droplet of water fill the shell. “And because it’s magic water.” You gave your fingers a little wiggle at the word magic that further tugged a smile to Silco’s lips. “It’ll never run dry… hopefully.”

“You’ve been practicing,” Silco observed.

“Yep. I’ll be able to create tsunamis next, just you watch.” Silco’s easy smile came back in full then. A smile that brightened his eyes and stirred those damned flutters right back up in your chest. 

“I will.” Silence fell between the two of you, now filled with the returned chirping of the babies. A silence that thickened and made your eyes flicker downward to his lips, which you wanted to feel so so badly against your own. “Thank you…for all that.” You swallowed the growing dryness in your mouth down sharply. 

“Yep--” You gave your throat a little clearing as you turned away from Silco, knowing the longer you looked at his handsome features the more you were going to be drawn in. “Yep. No problem.” You recapped the canteen and all but shoved it into Silco’s arms. 

“Alright, I need a drink.” You announced, making your way towards the ladder and begging your heart to stop beating so loudly. “I’m kinda feelin’ like I might want to bet you about that win now.” Silco laughed, his footsteps sounding as he followed after you.

“I thought you said betting beforehand would only jinx it.” You shrugged, throwing him a mischievous little look. 

“I think I’ll just face it head-on, like you said. I’m feeling lucky.”

Previous | Next

[rosemaryblossomworld]

The Second Queen (ch.1)

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!reader

Summary: 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝙿𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝙳𝚊e𝚖𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚢 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝙻𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝙷𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛, 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎

Warning:: 𝚊𝚐𝚗𝚜𝚝, 𝚁𝚑𝚊𝚎𝚗𝚢𝚛𝚊 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛(?)

A/n: English is not my first language, there may be grammar problems, so...read at your own risk.

Chapter 2

GIFs

Everyone knows that Daemon Targaryen is crazy about his niece! Everyone can see that!

But is he looking at her right now? Noooo, he's looking at another flower that just appeared within the walls of this castle. Young Y/n Hightower walked around the courtyard and didn't know where to put herself. Alicent was standing next to the king, and the girl was not well acquainted with Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra had changed a lot, and she didn't want to get in her face.

Daemon watched the girl's tossing carefully, he wasn't listening to what his brother was telling him. He wanted to laugh heartily, watching the sweet and funny Y/n. She had always been like that. He remembered that. She hid behind her older sister, acting quiet and demure. But it seemed to Daemon that there was more to it than that. The girl was clearly hiding something inside herself.

"The weather is wonderful today," Daemon decided to walk over and speak to Y/n.

"Oh my prince!" she perked up "You're right, it is very warm today and I'm glad of it."

"Do you like warm weather?" The man walked past her, sitting down at the table and taking a goblet of wine in his hands.

"I love it! When the cold weather comes, I feel like I'm withering like flowers in a royal garden. I get so sad." the girl said and took the goblet of wine as well.

Daemon liked the way she spoke. Easy and casual. No playfulness, no fear, no vulgarity. Calm, outgoing, smiling. Daemon wondered how Otto could have such a beautiful daughter. The man wondered, if they married and had a daughter, was she just like her mum, or just like her dad?

Daemon grinned to himself again. He thinks like a fourteen-year-old boy who has fallen in love with the first girl .

The lords who saw the young Lady Hightower and Prince Daemon chatting involuntarily cast a glance at Princess Rhaenyra, who sat off to the side, bored. She occasionally cast her glance at her uncle, but her face expressed nothing.

"Look Daemon, it's the irises, they're so amazing," the girl ran around the garden dragging the prince behind her.

Daemon only smiled and followed the little lady.

"Does my lady like flowers? Which ones do you like best?" asked Daemon squatting down next to the girl.

"I like n/f," replied Y/n simply and quickly.

They moved over to a tree and sat under its crowns. Y/n told the prince about her day, occasionally distracted by the maids passing by. Damon only smiled.

"kepus!" came a voice from somewhere in the distance.

Princess Rhaenyra was approaching the pair. With a slightly annoyed mood. She hadn't reacted to her uncle's attitude towards the younger Lady Hightower, because she knew he would soon get bored of her. But it had been a week now, and her uncle had not visited her once.

"Princess," the Lady immediately stood up and bowed her head.

"Lady Hightower, shouldn't you be with the queen and serving her?" Rhaenyra immediately decided to point out the girl's place, for her place was next to traitors and liars.

Lady Y/n was dumbfounded at such a harsh behaviour of the princess, but what the girl definitely did not like was people who stick their noses where they are not asked. Clenching her fists, Y/n grinned:

"Princess, I'm not a servant. My sister has enough of them. My job is to enjoy my life and look for a potential suitor," the lady replied.

Rhaenyra blushed, coughed and looked at her uncle. There's that dreamy look again, but he's not looking at her, he's looking at the girl who first bared her teeth.

"Ao didn't visit nyke, uncle. Gōntan mirros massigon? ao promised nyke iā kipagon va se zaldrīzoti!" Rhaenyra pouted, feigning innocence (You didn't visit me uncle. Has something happened? You promised me a ride on the dragons!)

"Iksan mirrī busy bisa week. Ivestragī's gaomagon ziry another jēda, Rhaenyra," the man replied (I'm a bit busy this week. Let's do it another time Rhaenyra).

Rhaenyra was a little taken aback. She was about to hit the young Lady Hightower with her shoulder, but surprisingly the girl managed to dodge, causing Rhaenyra to trip over the hem of her dress. She didn't fall, but her ears lit up even more with shame.

"My lady, would you care to dine with me?" asked Daemon.

"My pleasure!" pronounced Y/n.

They began to walk slowly towards the castle, they were in no hurry, they had all the time in the world.

"You know Daemon, I dream of riding a dragon with you too," the girl said quietly, she turned to the measuring man and smiled at him, walking forwards.

Damon smiled even wider.

Y/n didn't realise how she'd ended up in that position.

She and Daemon had just decided to read a book about the Ancient Kings.

It all started when Daemon decided to play a prank and as soon as the book started to get interesting he just slammed it shut and lifted it up, and of course Y/n tried to get it. She jumped up so hard and pushed off Daemon's arm that he didn't keep his balance and fell off the chair. And Lady found herself in his lap.

"Gotcha!" exclaimed the girl joyfully, and made herself comfortable on his lap. "You've thrown me off my reading, now I won't be able to find the moment!" whimpered Y/n and turned away from Daemon, showing her back.

"Please forgive me, but you were so sweet, lady, I just couldn't help myself," Daemon frivolously hugged the girl from behind and rested his forehead on her shoulder.

"I wonder if there's ever been one king who loved his wife so much that he was willing to die for her? Reading all these stories, no one narrates the relationship of the royal consorts. And if they do, it's cheating, strife and jealousy. It's not even pleasant to read," the girl turned the page.

"I wish I could use my brother as an example, but..." Daemon rested his chin on the lady's shoulder.

"Yes.... if you were king, who would you want to choose as your wife?" the girl asked.

"What is it, little flower? You want to be my wife," smirked the man.

"Maybe. But then I'd want to be the only woman in your life. And if I found out you kept going to Silk Street...but I'd treat you to manhood and turn the brothel into a bloodbath," the girl smiled and turned to the surprised man.

All Daemon could do was close and open his mouth.

"Oh, what am I...so what's up with Aegon the Conqueror?" the girl changed the subject and sat down on the soft sofa next to the man.

And so for a month Prince Daemon and Lady Y/n danced between each other. It was already clear to the whole council and the king that the prince was very warm to the girl. So rumours of the wedding had already spread far beyond the Royal Lands.

Y/n walked around in high spirits as everything she had planned began to come true.

"Sister!" came Alicent's voice from the empty corridor.

"My queen," the lady bowed respectfully, preparing to listen to a lecture from her older sister.

"The rumours are growing. You must not see Prince Daemon. Father is furious, I'm amazed that he's holding back from screaming at you," The queen equalled her sister and they walked further down the corridor.

"He yells all the time, I'm getting tired of listening to him. And what if it's Daemon, he's a prince!" the girl resented.

"But his reputation," fretted Alicent.

"I don't care. I hear King Viserys is getting worse. Who knows what might happen," Lady Y/n sniggered and walked on.

"What?" The queen stopped.

"Viserys has not yet appointed Rhaenyra as his successor. Father is doing a good job, if this continues, Daemon will be king as a sibling. The council may be outraged, but he will have a short conversation with them," Y/n continued to explain.

"You...want to be queen?... "Alicent looked at her sister with fear.

"Why not? I'll just combine my desire to be queen and my desire to have the right man by my side. It's not all about you being on top of things," Y/n continued walking, ignoring her sister.

Alicent now understood why her father didn't scold his youngest daughter, she was so much like him. Cunning and secretive. Alicent became even more worried, she no longer knew the girl who was walking down the corridor. It wasn't her sister.

"What do you mean?" turned sharply to her faithful maid Y/n.

"They were seen in the brothel. Rumours have already spread through the castle and the prince has been dragged before the king, my lady" Tala looked worriedly at her mistress, so gentle yet strong.

"Sir Conyn is finding out the circumstances?" asked the lady turning away from the girl.

"Yes, he went there as soon as we heard. They were in the brothel, but it's not known if they were asleep or not," Tala continued her explanation.

"He can't, can he? I'm...boring him so much..." Y/n settled into a chair next to the fireplace.

"My lady...rumours of his love for the princess have been floating around the castle for a long time. It was said that he was obsessed with blood purity and that he wanted to have a 'pure' child," Tala said.

Lady Hightower sat holding back tears, then stood up.

"I'll go and hear what's going on over there," Tala didn't follow her Mistress, only bowed her head.

Her heart pounded frantically, the closer she got to the throne room, the more clearly the voices of the enraged king and prince could be heard. There were no guards and the door was slightly ajar, you could see the king pinning the prince to the ground and shouting some questions.

"Wed her to me?" came Daemon's voice.

"Who?" gasped Viserys, hoping his brother would say the name of the younger Lady Hightower.

"Rhaenyra...Wed her to me," Daemon said.

Y/n stepped away from the door. Breathing hard, her heart began to pound even harder.

"I thought so," came the princess's voice from the shadows, and then she stepped into the light.

"How long have you been standing here?" Lady Hightower didn't dare look into the princess's eyes; she didn't want to see arrogance and self-righteousness.

"Since the beginning. Just as I thought, my uncle doesn't care about you ladies, he will choose me. As the heiress to the throne, as the one that will give him children of pure blood," her voice was quiet but cutting at the deep wounds of her heart.

"Princess...You cried out about never marrying and that you didn't want to bear a child because otherwise you would be treated like an animal. What has changed?" Y/n shifted her tearful eyes to Rhaenyra.

Rhaenyra was once again taken aback. She had said those words at every corner, that she didn't want to be a 'laying hen', she wanted freedom. She looked into Lady Y/n's cold eyes and realised that she had changed herself for the sake of defeating her 'rival'.

The doors of the throne room opened. Guards dragged Daemon out. The man glanced at the two girls and his gaze darted to Y/n, but she paid no attention to him. She turned and walked further down the corridor.

"Y/n!" shouted Daemon, but the girl didn't turn around. He shouted once more, but was faced with silence and emptiness.

Daemon felt like he had crossed the line. Crossed it in everything. He looked at his niece, who was looking at him hopefully, but he only grinned and let himself be led away by the guards.

When he left King's Landing, Rhaenyra saw him off from afar. But he did not see the queen of his dreams.

And two moons later, the young Y/n Hightower left King's Landing, returning to Old Town.

[geniemillies]

Yearning For Spring | Ch. 1 | Tamlin x Oc

◇— Chapter 1 - The Green Handkerchief

Ch. Warnings: implied sexual harassment, implied animal cruelty (I swear not by any mc), things get extreme in Hybern ok, Hybern as a place should be a warning on its own :^

✧ masterlist

||◇|| Ch.2>>

Hybern Castle — Two years after the Treaty

Another party. Another night of standing beside his chair on the dais, overlooking the crowd of Hybern officials as they partied, their faces a mask of joyful expressions, their bodies too rigid as they moved about the floor like puppets under their marionette's gaze.

“Incredibly uneventful.” I hear Brannagh whisper beside me. Her twin mimics her dead expression beside her. Guess I'm not the only one who thinks so.

“Quiet. Don't slouch or he will punish us again.” I scold through gritted teeth and feel their posture shift at the command. “Just until past midnight and we are dismissed.”

I feel them sigh in unison before stepping off the dais to stand in some corner away from the throne, away from where the King might see them. Yet I stay still, unmoving despite my legs and neck beginning to sore at the lack of movement.

Just until past midnight.

The ball went on as usual, the music getting louder with each hour while the dance floor remained filled with rigid dancers. Wine continued to flow and stomachs filled and this party seemed to go on for an eternity.

I hear the King's laughter echoing throughout the room, followed by several others as they clash glasses and exchange vulgarities. Mainly discussing political and military matters that did not need a child's attention but I listened in anyway. Nothing eventful. The King would find a way to spin the subject towards his hatred for humankind to which his circle were more than happy to indulge him in.

In a corner of the ballroom, I spy through the tiny slits of my mask a servant tripping over a lady's gown, echoes of breaking glass did not do as much as startle the dancers but their nervous eyes dart to where the servant was dragged to the kitchens, crying and spilling his apologies, his voice muffled as the door closed and then– nothing.

The dancing and laughter did not stop.

In a corner of the ballroom, I spy through the tiny slits of my mask, the twins gossiping amongst themselves in quiet solitude. They spot me from all the way over here with pleading eyes, I want to leave. But I only shook my head and they already knew my answer. Not until we are dismissed. And with that, they continued to sulk.

In a corner of the ballroom, I spy through the tiny slits of my mask… Amarantha. With her wavy locks of red hair and a dark dress that outshined every other lady in the room. As always, heads turned as she walked, whether or not it was out of respect or admiration or fear, they turned their heads and I knew she basked in the attention.

Before I could roll my eyes and turn the other way I spotted— green amidst a sea of dull colours. Amarantha makes her way to a boy.. strikingly close to my age. His hair was gold in colour. Gold like I've never seen before. It is a rare thing. Hybernians mostly have dark hair but there is the occasional rarity born with red locks.

Right. The King has once again invited a Prythian Lord, our closest ally from the neighbouring island. The High Lord sits with him now in his circle of friends, bearing the same golden hair as the boy Amarantha’s currently harassing. I felt unease as her hand brushes against his shoulder, how he'd shiver and say words I could not hear. Stop, maybe. Most likely. Because she always does this. To him especially, none of the other brothers are treated that way, much less spared a glance by her.

“Niamh.” His voice jolts me from my thoughts and I almost flinch to his direction. “More wine, dove.” The King orders, slouching in his seat.

“Yes, my King.” I turn to one of the servants ready at my command. “Three more bottles of Crimson Oathe. And tell the others to fetch a dozen more from the cellar. We'll be here for quite a while.” Seeing as they're already drunk and craving for more.

The servant came back in a flash with what I requested and I hurried to the King and his little circle of friends. “Pour.” He orders simply and I could feel his friends’ gaze in my direction. I do as I'm told, pouring scarlet liquid onto everyone's golden goblets before pacing three steps away, standing straight with the bottle still in my hands.

They continue their conversations and I stand there until I am dismissed. It is the rule. I cannot walk away from him unless I am told so. Sometimes I thank the Mother for the mask on my face, hiding the discomfort in my expression. I never liked being too close to his circle. Do my best to avoid them, really. His group mainly consists of highborn Lords of Hybern, however few they might be, and military officials that control his armies.

I stay there with my head down, listening to their horrid conversations, unable to mute out their loud voices.

Then I felt it. Felt it before it could even touch me— the hand of an older fae hovering up my arm that I felt all the hairs on my body stand.

Go away. Go away. Go away. Go—

I grabbed his wrist before he could go any further, earning a grunt of pain from the older male. The conversation ceased around the King's circle and all eyes were on me and the death grip that was my small hand around his bedazzled wrist.

“If. You could refrain. From touching me. Good sir.” I do not look at him. I do not do as much as move. I cannot. I might kill him.

“My hand! My hand!!” He cries out. I feel his pulse on my skin, the blood desperately flowing in his wretched veins. I felt my nails digging into flesh, scratching against skin and drawing blood. I smelled it, rotten and unsweet.

“My King!” He looks to the King, hoping to find his aid.

But he only looked, a simple grin on his face as he watched red seep out of his wrists, tainting my own skin. “Niamh. Drop the poor thing's hand.” I hear a chuckle leave his throat. Being used to following his orders— I do just that.

“Careful with this one, Lord Galdiir. She is.. a fascinating one. She will not hesitate to feast on your bones right at this very table. Perhaps then we'll have a real show.” The King laughs once more and other people follow. He snatches the wine bottle out of my hands, his eyes wandering to the blood that smeared my palm. And even with the mask I spot his smile curling into a smirk.

“And next time I hope you'd be wise enough to remember not to touch something that is not yours. I will have your head ripped from your shoulders if you ever touch her again.” He threatened and the circle went quiet.

“Now.” He doesn't face me, only flicks his wrist. “Go.”

And so I left that corner of the room, my left hand shaking, the smell of blood that isn't mine violating my nose. I did not return to the dais and as I passed guests I saw a glimpse of the twins’ face, riddled with worry. Yet they do not follow me.

The music and chatter from the ballroom faded as I now find myself in the empty terrace just outside. I let myself breathe in air that I couldn't find inside that wretched room. Yet, not even fresh air could calm me down. Couldn't really call it fresh as there's always a rotting smell that came with it.

Because this place is rotten. Void of light, life, anything, really. It is a cage.

The terrace overlooked a large garden of shaped trees and bushes that formed a maze. I'm glad for the night's darkness as I knew the dead colour of the leaves in morning light would only sour my mood. At least the sky looks peaceful. Though, I wish the fog would show more stars. I could not even see the moon, only a blur of reddish white light.

I look down at my hands, dark crimson taint the my palm. I press my fingers to it, feeling it sticky and warm and vile. Then my touch lowers down to the golden cuffs etched on my skin, smudging red on it.

I urge to curse, to rip this stupid mask off my face and storm to my room. More often than not, I think about it. But I know the consequences of leaving the King's presence without permission. And so I suck it up and inhale the rotten air, rubbing my bloodied palm, willing myself to believe that midnight would come soon and I could return to my room.

But I sense a presence approach, quiet footsteps make their way to the terrace. Then the intruder stops, standing at a good distance from me.

I froze and thought that if I turned around and left it'd be considered rude. So I shift uncomfortably, looking to the side and to my hands below, glad for the mask on my face for once. But when I caught a glimpse of gold at the corner of my eye, I was forced to look to to the person who had interrupted my solitude.

It's him.., the youngest son of Spring.

He dons on green fabrics, golden accents throughout his outfit that matched his long locks that cascaded down his shoulders. He smells like flowers and morning after a storm. His gaze is fixed to the garden forward and I wonder if he felt my gaze on him.

“Good evening.” He says, his voice quiet and soft and nice.

I snapped out of my thoughts and did a subtle curtsy to the young Lord. “Good evening.” I was told to treat our guests from Prythian with the warmest welcome and yet I forgot to greet him first or address him by his name.

“Forgive me, I was simply–”

“In need of some quiet?”

“I've been in search of it all night.” He said, his gaze torn away from me again. There is a stiffness on his shoulders, a longing for home in his eyes. He does not wish to be here any longer. And neither do I.

“It was beginning to feel suffocating. In there. With all the tense dancing.”

I slightly turn to face him again.

“Sorry. I meant no insult. It's a nice party.” A nice attempt at a lie.

“No.” I hesitate. But no one else is here. No one to hear me speak ill. “It is not.”

I hear a pause, a flicker of surprise maybe. That someone actually has a mind of their own around here. “It is not.” He repeats and maybe I heard a smile in his words, a quiet relief that someone understands.

“Perhaps we could enjoy the silence together?”

I look at him again, my face betraying the look of surprise at his suggestion. I did not say anything when I looked away from him.

But I stayed. And quiet company has never been so peaceful.

My shoulders relaxed as the minutes passed us by quietly. I could still hear the music in the throne room, the sounds of the King's laughter and the clink of glasses. In the stillness of the night, away from the noise and commotion of the party, the gardens below lay silent, and the only sound to break it was the gentle breeze rustling the leaves of trees.

And for a brief moment, I felt respite. I don't know why. Maybe because of the silence. Maybe it is because of him and his very presence that brought a calmness that I didn't know existed. The air seemed more bearable in his presence and for the first time tonight my heart was at peace.

My eyes faltered ever so slightly as I fiddled with my palm, the blood now cold on my skin.

I never want to go back inside.

“I'm sorry that that male has made you uncomfortable.” He quietly said as I felt him extend an arm to me. So I looked and he handed me something..

A green handkerchief.

I stared at it for a good while, confused as to why I am being given such a present. Then I realised that my bloodied hand was still visible and he had seen my outburst earlier.

I take the handkerchief slowly, inspecting it as if it were a strange thing. And it was strange, this kind gesture. I felt my lips curl up into a soft smile.

I began wiping the blood off my palms, smudging red onto the green fabric. “I'm sorry, too.” I mutter.

“About what?”

“About Amarantha.”

He goes silent and looks away in discomfort. “She always does this.”

“I know.” I continue to wipe, fighting the urge to scoff at the mere thought of that female. “She does not take kindly to ‘no’.”

I hear no reply. As I finished wiping the blood off my hand and cuff I looked at the fabric sullied in crimson. “Thank you..,” I trail off, forgetting his name despite going through the guest list just hours before the party.

“Tamlin.”

“Tamlin..” I finish wiping off the blood and I hand him back his handkerchief, completely facing him this time, letting myself see his face through the tiny holes of my mask. “Prince of Spring.”

He only seems to look towards the cloth in my hand. “Forgive me but I do not know your name either..”

“Niamh.”

“Miss Niamh..”

I nod my head and offer him back his handkerchief. He looks at it for a moment.

“Keep it.” He said, reaching for my hand with both his, closing my fist around the piece of cloth. A gift.

I was taken aback for a mere second. I've never been given a gift before. Never had much to say thank yous to. Never had to be grateful. A very foreign and yet.. welcome feeling.

He closed my fist and my eyes failed to remain averted. I look back to his face to see emerald eyes looking back at me. An expression of gentleness that couldn't be found in the eyes of Hybernians. I wonder if there are more like him back on the land he hails from. More people with genuine smiles and golden hair. I wonder if he deems the garden before us a pathetic piece of land compared to the endless fields of flowers back at his court. And maybe if I look into his eyes long enough I could see a glimpse of what that may look like.

I felt myself lost in them. Because I’ve never really seen green like that. Green that swirls with other colours of the earth. Strange and pretty. Even Hybernian trees are of lifeless colours. So I couldn't help but let my gaze linger for a moment longer.

“I cannot–” I gasped.

I flinched, my back arching slightly, the words stolen from my throat.

'What–?'

I grip my neck as I felt something pierce through my back, to the centre of my chest. Like a sword, a needle—No. A spark. Like lighting from the calmest of storms—struck me, right through the heart.

I staggered backwards and I stared at him like he might've inflicted such pain on me, the mask I wore hiding the horror on my face. But when I looked at him again, my heart beat so strongly against my rib cage I thought it might've broken out of it. Every bone in my body seemed to falter into brittle stones as if every part of me was faltering then and there. I wanted to touch him, grab his hand and take him away–

“Miss N–” He reaches out to me, his face riddled with concern. But before he could touch me again I gathered every bit of my common sense and— disappeared.

I panicked and winnowed away, appearing in my room disoriented from the sudden shift of my surroundings, as if I hadn't winnowed all of me, my back hitting against a table as I breathed heavily. I fall to the floor and grip my throat, desperate to stabilise my breathing before letting that hand fall to my chest where I could very much feel the beating of my heart. I still feel it. The spark. Like it's sentient, living inside me, telling me to go back to him.

The thrill of that spark dies inside me when realisation sank, replaced with nothing but dread and fear as I recall back to the books I've read on the matter. The romantic, forbidden tales of fated mates. Libraries are a rare thing in Hybern, the King deeming it worthless to record our histories when he alone exists to remind every single soul in the island just how we were robbed of everything in the Treaty that happened just two years ago. He does not care much for stories outside of those that he only thought mattered. Education of the most basic things are not encouraged, instead he favours military training, condemning all fae, high or lesser, young or old, to be trained ruthlessly into military submission.

Father thought the concept interesting albeit useless. Brannagh thought it a curse. Dagnan doubts its existence. How the Mother bonds two souls together on a whim, on a baseless calculation that the two might work well together. And now she dares pair me up with the youngest son of Spring. Someone so different. So out of reach. So out of my league.

Someone I can never ever have.

She dares play cruel jokes on me. Or perhaps she is simply cruel. That would make more sense. She’s always been cruel when dealing with my fate in her hands.

I did not return to the party. I lay in bed awake that night, my head filled with nothing but images of his face. There wasn't a moment where I wandered to other thoughts, afraid that if I did I couldn't burn his face into memory hard enough. And a hundred years may pass and I might forget his face. The thought alone broke my heart.

The bond didn't seem to snap for him and I could only sigh out of relief. Good. It's for the best. I know well what happens to the things that bring even the smallest amounts of joy into people around here. He takes them, breaks them, ruins them in the cruellest of ways and he makes sure there is an audience to bear witness to his acts. I still remember how her growls of pain echoed throughout the throne room while my body froze, my eyes locked into the eyes of a direwolf I had secretly snuck into the palace. I stood and cried as she whimpered, the light, the life fading from her darkened eyes, her head rolling to my feet as I tried my best to hold the vomit urging up my throat.

The King does not like hope festering the hearts of his people. Says that hope makes way for want. A want for something other than what he has to offer. He seeks only for total control. That is why every waltz at his parties are always rigid, always controlled. He liked it that way. Liked puppets more than people.

He would ruin me in ways that will kill me slowly if he ever finds out. Because I was born into a life of servitude. Everything, even my body and mind, leashed to the King. And this bond swirling inside me, this string of fate.. He will take it too.

And so I held my aching heart as I closed my eyes. And in the darkness it's not a wolf’s head before my feet that I imagine.

It’s his..

I will take this bond to the grave.

[soulc-hilde]

Game Shakers / Ch. 2

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

Pairing: Eminem x OFC

Warning(s): Cursing, Drug Abuse, Racial Discrimination, Sexual Assault, more may be on the way as the story progresses

Summary: 2000s is quite the highlight between the fashion and rise of pop culture. Seemingly the new faces of shock value, rapper Marshall Mathers and rockstar King Woods finds a common ground amongst the unnecessary bullshit.

A/N: Sorry for the late update! I'm rediscovering my urge to write as I work back to back and get paperwork ready to prepare for college. It feels like life is slowly coming together, I just need a damn car. Y'all got chapter 1 to 32 likes and 3 reblogs... is my writing that good or are we all in desperate search for Eminem fanfic? Much love, though!

Standing on the carpet of the VMAs, Marshall and an excited Deshaun pose beside of the rookie's mentor, Dr. Dre. Finishing a couple of photo-ops, they were guided down the carpet. As Marshall clenched on his gum, anxiety gnawing at his mind, Deshaun was studied the face of every celebrity he knew.

"Yo, Doody, this is crazy man," he laughs. "I can't believe that we're really here." Marshall hums, "I can't believe how crowded this bitch is." Dre shakes his head, "don't stress, this will all end soon once we get inside the venue."

Deshaun looks down at the now bleach blond rapper, "you think those girls are gonna be here, man?" Marshall kisses his teeth, "they have to be, I read on the call sheet that they were listed to perform or some shit."

Andre raises an eyebrow, "who y'all whispering about, looking like some mean ass gossip girls?" Marshall smirks, "you ever heard of that new band, The Hydez?" The older rapper's face scrunches at the band name, "uh... who?"

"It's a band with these five girls, only one of them is white, and are covered in tattoos--" Andre's face drops in recognition, "oh! Nevermind, I know. I know who're talking about now. What, you got a little crush or somethin', Slim?"

Deshaun laughs, "more like that boy's in love with the lead, King. Once they talked during Warped Tour, he was hooked on her." Rather than snapping back, Marshall side-eyes his friend.

"Fuck both of y'all, man," the blond rolls his eyes, walking down the carpet. The others following, throwing out a joke here and there, when a reporter strikes her mic out desperately.

"Eminem, quick question," she blurts, "are you and The Hydez leader, King Woods, dating? What of your wife?" The three rappers freeze, flabbergasted at the onslaught of questions.

Marshall clears his throat for a second before stepping closer to her, "excuse me?" The woman repeats herself, "are you and King Woods dating?" The blond raises a brow, "no, we ain't. Where'd you get that from?"

"Well, just a few minutes ago, I had simply asked her and the rest of The Hydez about you and they just, like, flipped out on me," she snorts, "I don't know why she became so defensive over me asking about you, but it was a little suspicious, wouldn't you say?"

Marshall hums, "yeah... yeah, um, what was it that you asked them about?" A bit of irritation was rising in the back of his mind, he didn't expect a lot of positives to come from the whole spotlight shit but he at least thought that King and her friends were genuine people.

"I just simply wondered if you were the person others say that you are, you know like violent towards women, vulgar," she lists, "I was just asking the real questions. It was them who kept calling you all types of names like skittles and tiny ass--"

Marshall shakes his head, "le'me stop you right there, sweetheart. You was just sniffing around, asking questions about me to other people and they flipped. How about you do your job and ask about people's career instead of digging for dirt, have a nice night."

The three walk away, leaving the woman in disbelief. Deshaun looks back at the woman with a confused smile, "the fuck was that all about?" Marshall shrugs, "turns out everybody wants to know if I'm as vulgar or violent as my lyrics."

"And what does that have to do with The Hydez?" Andre glances at him in confusion as well. Reaching inside the venue, Marshall smiles, "King chewed that curious bitch the fuck out." Andre and Deshaun share a knowing glance.

Andre rubs at his forehead, "and she does know that you're married, right?" Marshall nods, "sure does. Besides, she told me that she's not interested in anything outside of her music. I can't say I blame her."

"Damn straight, you can't," Deshaun sasses as they find their seats and sit down.

The award show begins, the venue going dark as the stage lights set off. Throughout the show, he watched as stars strutted across the stage presenting awards and performing for the masses. Faces he's seen on the television from the kitchen of his old job and new ones that were scheduled to officially debut, much like him.

Every time his face appeared on the massive screen as a nominee for a selection of categories, his jaw clenches with anticipation. If he thought signing with Dre and putting out the EP was a nerving wreck, it doesn't compare to his first award. If he could win at least one award, he could take it as his moment of truth to flash his winning in the face of those who lacked faith.

So far, he's won Best New Artist which was unreal to him. "Was this supposed to happen?" He questioned in the mic, unsure that his name was chosen and written on the card.

Getting his name etched into the award, he returns to his seat with an exhilarating tremble in his step. Sitting down, he meets eyes with a smirking King who simply sent a nod his way before turning to face the stage once again.

As the show moves on, he solely tunes in whenever his name or the band, The Hydez, were mentioned. So far, the girls won their second award of the night for Best Rock Video and Best Group Video. They also took home the awards for Best Editing and Best Special Effects.

Closer to the last few minutes of Britney and NSYNC's performance, a stagehand signals for The Hydez to follow after her. Perking up in his seat, his eyes were attentive to the stage as the night was reaching its final round. Stone Cold Steve Austin introduces the band and the lights dimmer more than before.

"You excited to see your girlfriend?" Proof teases. Marshall simply side-eyes with a smirk.

The starting piano plays for 'In The End,' a green light takes over the stage as Harley starts to rap her verse in the mic as King sings her adlibs. In contrary to their carpet outfits, the group appeared far more casual while dawning their usual black get up.

The redheaded leader bounces across the stage alongside her members as the lights flicker every time the chorus hits. Engaging with the audience, the crowd of fans belt the lyrics. Marshall slightly nods his head along with the music, enamored by the abrupt energy shift from the likes of the pop star barbies.

The lights complimented her barely finished sleeve tattoo and burnt orange curls, the sliver piercings that accessorized her face created a tug in his gut. She was just ethereal and dark, it intrigued him. Once Marshall becomes interested in something, he never lets go.

2019 - Interview

"Would you say that the VMAs was the start of the infamous Eminem and King pairing that we know of today?"

Marshall nods, rubbing his shaved chin, "yes. Meeting her at Warped Tour, I saw her as this crazy friend but seeing the trance she could put people in with her music, I guess I had developed a bit of an admiration for her."

"Did you expect yourself to fall in love with King? How did you deal with shifting from being married to being single with those thoughts?"

Marshall leans forward to grab a bottle of water, "I more so dreamed than strived to fall in love with her. I believed that she was far out of my league and divorcing from Kim made it a bit harder for me to see myself as boyfriend material for her."

Taglist: @slytherinroyalty16

Series Masterlist

[deceptive-daydreams]

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 | Ch. 14 |

Smoke Signals

Chapter Ten - A Chemistry Lesson

W/C: 8.2K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

And for once, you let go Of your fears and your ghosts One step, not much But it said enough

You Are In Love - T.S.

A/N: so i decided to split the chapter up, I started moving into another scene and it only felt right to give it it's own chapter as it opens up the night. i hope you guys love this chapter as much as i love this chapter <3

Masterlist

Prev | Next

“Dustin Henderson!”  The younger boy shoves past both of them confidently, his hand shaking yours impressively.

“We have heard so much–”  Robin begins though she’s cut off by Steve lightly smacking a hand against her stomach.

Frozen.  You’re frozen in time, an influx of information and new faces rendering you a speechless idiot.  Each one stares expectantly, awaiting some kind of a response, more than likely drawing their own conclusions about your silence and lack of communication.  They were going to be so disappointed in your shyness should they even have the patience to wait around.

Before you can humiliate yourself, Steve saves the day as an offended Robin glares at him, rubbing her stomach rather dramatically.  “Donnie.”  He states, only creating further confusion.  Several people stood before you and Donnie was not one of them, you were now struggling to keep up with the current interaction at the mention of her.  Overstimulated.  You were definitely overstimulated.  You can’t even imagine the dumb face you were sporting, the silence too loud as you struggled clinging onto words.  Any words in the English language at all at this point.

“Donnie has told us all about you.”  Steve elaborates finally.  “All good things, I promise!”  He chuckles, seemingly attempting to ease your anxieties that had made themselves evident in your wide eyes and worried forehead creases.

“Oh.”   

“Yeah, yeah!  And she’s told us all about how you’re Eddie’s new babysitter.”  Robin chimes in again, earning a pointed look from Steve.

Eddie’s reaction is lost on you, his existence temporarily vanishing as you take in the current conversation.  The idea of being perceived was one thing, it was entirely another to be perceived by four strangers who had apparently already been made aware of your existence.

“What she means is that we’ve heard you’ve been a good friend.”  Nancy softly smiles.

Friend.

You didn’t quite know why but the word felt insulting.  Not on any account of Nancy’s, there was no malice detected in her tone though you were still intimidated by her and figured with her being the prettiest girl in the room, she must at least be on Eddie’s radar.  The word ‘friend’ was starting to feel vulgar the more it played over in your head.

“Yeah, ‘friend’.”  Dustin uses air quotes, a wild grin on his youthful face.

At this, Steve delivers a harsh smack to the boy’s abdomen, more aggressive than he had done to Robin seconds ago.  

“Henderson.”  Eddie reprimands.

His voice lures you in despite your inner protests, your gaze traveling over each unique face until it settles on his.  That familiar distress showcases itself in the form of a frown; there was no telling what reaction you had expected of him but something about it makes your heart drop, your stomach feeling as if it was free falling in the worst way possible.  Were you really that repulsive?

It was obvious Dustin had only been joking but the disgust on Eddie’s face only forced your tear ducts to strain, your eyes becoming glassy in seconds.  It was a long shot, thinking that there could be any semblance of interest on Eddie’s part and you suppose you should be to blame for your hurt feelings.  He owed you nothing and here you were mourning over something that never was, all because he had let you see a piece of the inner workings of his mind.  It didn’t warrant a one way ticket into his heart.

“What!?”  Dustin shrugs, unbothered.

Robin steps forward, an apologetic smile gracing her features as she addresses you.  “I promise we’re not all gigantic dinguses.”

A flood of complaints spills from Dustin and Steve, Nancy only rolling her eyes at the interaction before taking the initiative in pursuing the conversation with you as the others bicker, Eddie only spectating the whole scene playing out in front of him.

“Dustin doesn’t always know when to keep quiet.”  She giggles, subtly pulling you to the side, her hand gentle as it rests on your forearm.  It almost repulses you, although your logic kicks in and pieces together that this woman has never done anything to elicit such a response from you.  “But he always means well.”

The heat was dying down, the unsolicited jealousy now tame within the confines of your body, not totally gone but no longer raging just beneath the surface.  If it were up to you you’d ball up the lingering feeling and burn it, if it were only so easy.

“Are they brothers?”  You ask, recalling that night you drove him home.  He only spoke of his uncle, Wayne.  He did also mention Dustin but never insinuated that they were related.  Based on the way they were interacting, you’d assume they were brothers in some sense of the word.

“Where’s your family?”  Eddie suddenly mumbles, eyes still glued to the scenery outside.  

The question is out of the blue and the last thing you would expect from him.  Although he had taken somewhat of a liking to you, he’d never taken an interest in something so personal.  And you offered him that same respect.  

“What?”  You ask, sneaking a glance at him, your hands squeezing the wheel.

His focus shifts from the window to you, his body turning inward as he leans his cheek against the headrest, waiting for your response.  The way his lips pucker from his cheek squishing against the seat only makes your heart clench.  His large awaiting eyes reflect the moon and you find it hard to change the subject when they appear so patient and attentive.

“Um, well, they’re back in…back home.”  You answer simply.

“Where’s that?”

He looked the most inquisitive you’d seen him, body turned toward you, his attention not once wavering.  Instead of the usual knit brows he often wore, his features remained softer and full of wonder.  Lips parted and eyes twinkling, who were you to deny his efforts?  Even if he was slightly under the influence.  Worst case scenario, he doesn’t remember this conversation.

“California.” 

“Oh.”  

You didn’t know what kind of response you were expecting but for some reason, the one word was a bit too vague, self consciousness kicking in.  

“What about yours?”  You shift the spotlight over to him.

From what you can tell as you keep your focus on the road, his gaze drops while he collects his thoughts, his breathing going shaky for just a second before he regains his composure.  A hum deep in his throat notifies you that he’s ready to begin speaking again.

“Uh, don’t really have one.  Never really have.  Or, uh, I just don’t remember them?  Other than my uncle, Wayne.  He’s back…”  Eddie hesitates.  “He’s in Indiana.”

Nancy’s gaze follows yours, locking in on the two boys catching up.  “Dustin and Eddie?”  Her puzzled expression already grants you your answer, though she continues.  “No, no they’re not related.  You’d think they are, with all the fantasy stuff they talk about and what not.”

“Fantasy stuff?”

“Dungeons and Dragons.”  Her perfectly plucked brows raise.  “My brother used to have me play with them, thank god Eddie stepped into the picture.”  She mutters.

“Eddie did mention Dungeons and Dragons.”  You nod. 

“And Dustin’s little drawing.”

“And the drawing?”

Your grin along with Nancy as you simultaneously speak, a few giggles filling the air between you.  

“So your brother is…Dustin?”

Amidst the calm conversation, Steve and Robin are cheering a few feet away, both of their arms now slung around Eddie.  It wasn’t clear what they were celebrating and it even seemed that they were just trying to embarrass him in that true friend fashion.  It was sweet, how much they cared about him, the lengths they went just to surprise him.

Nancy gracefully shakes her head, brunette curls bouncing with the movement and freckled nose scrunching playfully.  “No, no.  Dustin is one of my brother’s best friends.  Mike is my brother, he’s back at home in–”  Before she can reveal where ‘home’ was, her bright blue eyes widen.  “Back in Indiana.”  She corrects herself.

“I think Eddie’s mentioned Mike a few times.”  You recall the conversation, how he took Mike and Dustin under his wing in highschool.  “He couldn’t come?”

“He’s studying for midterms.”  She shakes her head.  “He really wanted to come but…you know between his girlfriend in California and college it’s just all…a lot.”  Her eyes are kind, probably the kindest you’d ever come across.

“I’d love to meet him one day.”  You smile, only hoping that you were reciprocating the same compassion she was radiating.  “And Max, and Lucas, and Wayne…”

Nancy’s eyes seem to brighten, ears perking up at the names.  “He told you about everyone?”  She asks softly, her baby pink lips upturning slightly.  

You nod.  Another eruption of laughter and shouting forces your attention toward the rest of the group, a proud grin displayed on Dustin’s face only hinting that he had just made a joke that even had Eddie hunched over in laughter, Steve’s arm still draped over his shoulder with his head thrown back.

“That is not funny.”  Robin pouts, arms crossed.

“I think it’s pretty funny.”  Steve smirks.

Nancy politely excuses herself from your one-on-one conversation, joining Robin’s side.  “What’s not funny?”

“When Robin swallowed an egg whole–”

“It’s not funny!”  Robin continues to protest.  “I almost died!”  

This only makes the boys cackle more, pulling an eye roll from Nancy.  

“C’mon Nance.”  Dustin grins.

“Yeah, c’mon Nance.”  Eddie chimes in.

Nance.

Why did it rub you the wrong way when he said it?  You assessed Nancy’s body language and nothing conveyed to you that she had any interest in him, however your mind continued it’s unruly torture.  Even so, Eddie had made it clear what he thought of you, that you were ‘too busy dry humping’ Jett and that even though that couldn’t be further from the truth, he would still lose respect for you.

Heat burrowed deep in your belly once again, the kind that wasn’t yet uncontrollable but should anyone add fuel to the fire would result in your own self destruction.  All because Eddie had to go and cause a scene.  All because he had a temper that never rested even when it appeared dormant.  

“I-um, I’m gonna go get the drinks–what did–what did everyone want?”  You manage to pitifully scramble the sentence together and eventually get your point across.

“Stevie!”  Donnie interrupts, crushing the poor guy in a tight hug.  It makes you question her disgust for physical touch.  

Steve doesn’t seem to mind, a twitch of his eye only projecting a smidge of discomfort but other than that he contently hugs her back.  They begin catching up, everyone completely ignoring your request for their drink orders.  It’s not their fault you were so invisible, it was just your nature, you were always meant to be put on the backburner until further notice but for some reason it causes an extra deep pang in your chest this time.  Especially since Eddie had completely disregarded you as he jumped into the conversation.

With the tiniest huff, you quietly step away to make yourself useful behind the bar.  A pair of blue eyes follows you, considerate blue eyes that you attempt to ignore.  If you looked carefully enough, you’d see that pair of ocean blue eyes making connections between yourself and a certain brown eyed man.  You were in no mood to act as a detective though.

–

It was irresponsible.

Your track record so far was evidence enough.

But as you stared down the bottle of tequila sat in front of you, howls of laughter and echoes of inside jokes entering your ears even from the other side of the bar, it seemed like more and more of a good idea.  Or like the only idea.  

You could have one shot, just to relax the nerves, make you more approachable.  No one would notice.  You could come off as the friendly stranger in the background instead of the miserable mouse in the corner.  It was for your benefit.  Your thoughts would become less intense, your bitterness would melt away.  Eddie would temporarily become the dream boat he had previously been in your eyes rather than a mouthy douchebag, your hazy mind would erase his wrong doings if only for a few hours.  

You hope.

Or maybe you’d open your eyes and see what Eddie was seeing, had you really shown any interest in Jett at all?  Maybe a shot would be enough to introduce you to the narrative.  Maybe you should let loose and throw yourself at Jett for the fuck of it.  Bad decisions were starting to sound more appealing the harder you stared at the bottle of liquid courage.  Until your careful thought process was interrupted.

“We doin’ shots?”  

The deep but soothing voice catches you off guard, calm brown eyes and concerned brows gaining all of your attention.  They weren’t the brown eyes you secretly hoped for, even if they were the most infuriating sight you could possibly be faced with at the moment.  No, they were a lighter hue, the overhead light casting golden flecks within the irises that regarded you with genuine interest, his lips pressed together tightly as he awaits your answer.  In his hand he holds what looks to be a scotch on the rocks though it could also be whiskey, you were no expert quite yet.

“Uh…no.  I dunno.  Maybe?”  You squint your eyes painfully.  “Forget I said that.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell the others.”  Steve takes a seat at one of the vacant stools directly across from you.  “But…”  He clicks his tongue.  “If you are going to, count me in.”  He smiles charmingly, finishing off his drink.

“I…”  You’re about to take the sensible route, you’re so close to making the right decision.  Then again, bad decisions were far more tempting.  Especially with the help of an unaware acquaintance.  “Okay.”  You sigh, offering him a friendly grin.

Without further consideration, you pop the bottle cap off, pulling out two sparkling shot glasses and setting them on the counter confidently.  At least you didn’t have to drink alone.  

“Munson giving you a hard time?”  Steve suddenly inquires.  Your eyes nearly pop out of your head which you assume is why he elaborates.  “I know he’s kind of intense.  The first year he moved out here he was…he was so fuckin’ unhappy y’know?  And I know what you’re thinkin’: Why is this guy, Steve, who I just met, going on about Munson?”  He begins to ramble.

Slowly, you start to pour the foul smelling alcohol into one of the glasses as you listen intently.  A few drops trickle down the side but it goes ignored as you watch Steve’s every move.  He toys with the glass he’d just finished off, spinning it over and over again in circles atop the bar, a ring of condensation following.

“Don’t–fuck how do I say this?”  He pushes a weft of voluminous hair back.  “Don’t give up on him.”  Steve practically pleads.

You stop pouring the tequila, pausing to chew on your lip and look at him in confusion, which encourages him to continue.

“Look, Donnie was talking about how–how you’ve been really good for him.  And I don’t know–I just–I could sense that…you were mad at each other–you and Eddie, I mean.”

He takes your silence as a means to further explain and god, he could feel a migraine coming on just by the way he was stirring things up but he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.  Not when Donnie had been so adamant about Eddie being in such good spirits since you showed up only to come face to face with an almost seething Eddie, and Donnie wordlessly conveying to him that something was wrong.

“The point is, I know that he’s an asshole, okay?  Whatever he did, I’m sure he deserves a slap to the face.  Just–don’t give up on him.”

Steve’s words sink in.  You aren’t sure what has been said but it’s apparent that the tension between you and Eddie tonight was obvious among his friends.  You ponder his request–to not give up on Eddie as you fill the second shot glass and slide it across the counter.  If anything, Eddie had given up on you by accusing you of messing around with Jett.  It was insulting and humiliating.  Dehumanizing.  

“I think he’s the one who gave up on me.”  You admit, tossing the shot back with teary eyes.

The sting spreads down your throat, the potent smell filling your nostrils as you slam the glass down.  Your eyes are glassy though you only hope Steve can gather that it's just from the alcohol and not the idea of Eddie essentially throwing whatever you had in the garbage combined with the burn of tequila.

As if caught off guard, Steve quickly throws his shot back, apparently an expert as he doesn’t flinch, only widens his eyes as he slams the glass down as you had.  He exhales heavily, nodding, thinking to himself.  You await more wise words, more advice that he had no business giving although you appreciate the sentiment anyway.

“What are you doing?”

The world feels distant and not because of the alcohol.  Your blood runs hot, most definitely because of the alcohol.  The question is asked with such outrage that it almost has you shaking.  Getting caught was more embarrassing than any outcome you could’ve imagined though you didn’t even try to hide the evidence, didn’t even go as far as to take shots in the back.  Did you subconsciously want Eddie to catch you?

“Nothing.”  You mutter, quickly capping the bottle and setting it on its designated shelf.

“I just saw you.”  Eddie grits, hands splayed out on top of the bar, his arms spread out as he attempts to keep quiet so as not to interrupt the customers scattered throughout the bar. 

Eddie’s glare burns a hole into you and maybe it’s because of Steve’s sudden advice, the fact that he felt the need to stick up for Eddie even when he didn’t know the whole situation, but you refuse to give in.  He holds a fire in his eyes that you hastily reject as you begin cleaning out the shot glasses.  It was your goal to come off as unbothered but you fear you’re coming off more as guilty.  Like a dog that had been caught chewing up the family couch.

“It was my fault.”  Steve chimes in nonchalantly.

Eddie glances over, brows knit together in irritation.  “Your fault?”

“Yeah, we were getting acquainted.  I insisted, it was–”

“Steve had nothing to do with it.”  You fess up.

Eddie’s face reveals a whole other level of rage, his eyes nearly glazing over with black.  You fucked up.  That much you could admit to yourself.  Steve appears to be panicked, his gaze glued to the bar top, his hands gripping the edge, nails threatening to dig into the wood.

“Meet me in the back.”  Eddie demands, pushing himself off of the bar.  

Terrified doesn’t even begin to explain the list of feelings coursing through you.  You’d never seen him as angry as he was tonight.  You were drinking on the job, something that in a small town usually isn’t a big deal but with all of the tension hanging in the air, you could only assume it would add to his irritation.  It would only give him more ammo against you.

Steve offers you an apologetic stare, clearly also taken back by Eddie’s irate mood.  And then, he half nods as if to wish you good luck before standing and making his way back to the rest of the group.  As you timidly step out from the bar and round the corner, you catch Nancy’s sapphire eyes before they disappear, your legs carrying you into the narrow hallway where the office was located.  Except Eddie wasn’t in there and you could only conclude that he was outside.  ‘Meet me in the back’ meant ‘meet me outside’.  Which could only mean he was about to unleash hell on you if he needed to completely remove you from the building in order to reprimand you.

You don’t let yourself prepare, you need to face him without any thoughts clouding your judgment, only further shoving you into the hole you dug yourself.  With a push to the metal door, you’re met with an aching cold, the kind that stings the surface of any exposed skin.  Immediately your cheeks burn, a few snowflakes landing delicately among your eyelashes.  You should have grabbed your jacket.

Leaning against the hay bales stacked like a Tetris game, is Eddie.  A cigarette hangs from his lips while he struggles to keep the flame on his lighter alive, the wind fighting his every attempt.  He grunts in annoyance, his head tilting toward the sky as if to personally ask it ‘why?’.  Already, his cheeks and nose are tinted pink, borderline red.  You contemplate asking if you could talk inside but you quickly bite your tongue, you didn’t want to be the one to initiate the conversation.

“What’s your problem?”  He asks simply.  As if he were asking for the weather forecast.  It’s insulting, quite frankly.

“My problem?”

Suddenly the fear that had consumed you seconds ago dissipates, no longer plaguing you and being replaced with a wrath you’re convinced no one else on the planet could pull from you.  Even worse, he refuses to look at you, keeping his stare on the cloudy evening sky.  

“Are you trying to get fired?  ‘Cause I should fire you right–”

“Oh yeah, go ahead.  Fire me.”  

He’s quiet, attempting to light his cigarette once again.  This time he succeeds, the stick catching the flame as he inhales and tucks his lighter into his back pocket.  You begin to question if he even cares about the cold until you see the goosebumps pricking across his arms.

“I should.”  He mumbles, taking another drag.

“Great!  I’m glad we’re on the same page.”  You reply, sarcasm dripping from each syllable as you rub up and down your exposed arms.  It didn’t help that you decided to wear a skirt and tights tonight either.  

Without time to process, he takes a large step toward you, his breath hot as it fans across your face.  A sense of softness flashes in his eyes before they return to the fiery nature they previously exhibited.  His cigarette idles in his hand at his side, his jaw clenched and visibly tensing before he scowls.

“Same page?”  He bites.  “The same page.”  His free hand rubs along his jaw in thought.  “Okay, if we’re on the same page then explain to me why you’re doing shots with Harrington?  If we’re on the same page then we must be reading completely different languages because you started this.”

You scoff, his statement on replay in your ears.  Each time it plays again you find yourself even more enraged.  “I did?”  You’re smiling but there’s not an ounce of happiness in your features or your tone.  

Eddie backs away, the heat from his breath is missed, no matter how mad you are and no matter how strongly it smelled of smoke.  He paces, turning around before coming full circle and facing you again, another deep drag from his cigarette indicating that he’s stressed.  Then he nods, bangs falling into his eyes as he does.

“You did.  You just–you start ignoring me, start acting like I’m not even a person?”  He points the cigarette at you and you’re starting to believe that in the midst of his rage, he’s completely forgotten about the cold whereas it was the only thing you could focus on.  Regardless, you fight through it, even if your teeth chatter.

“And, and–hold on.”  He shakes his head, curls following his movement as he rushes inside.

Great.

He left you out in the cold, literally.

You weren’t going to wait, his disrespect wasn’t going to keep prodding at you, not if you had anything to say about it.  He didn’t get to storm off and leave you outside in the freezing cold, even if you did do something you weren’t proud of.  He was probably going to wait and see how long you would hold out, how long you would sit in the cold before inevitably running in and looking for him, how stupid you would look–

The door squeaks open again, smacking against the wall as Eddie comes racing out, leather jacket in hand.  Well, if he was allowed to grab his jacket then so were you.  His cigarette hangs from his bottom lip as he begins muttering around it.

“You started treating me like I didn’t exist, I don’t know how normal people react to that but–”  He adjusts the jacket, flattening out the material before draping it over your shoulders, encouraging you to put your arms in the sleeves.  “I assume any normal person would be fuckin’ pissed so I guess I’m not–I’m just not understanding.”  He says a bit harshly.

You don’t react, frozen as he waits for you to put your arm in the sleeve.  While he’s still visibly aggravated, his eyes also communicate something else to you.  The deeper you look into them, the more his pupils dilate, a nervous gulp noticeable as he awaits your reply.

“C’mon, you’re freezing.”  He whispers, a large contrast to his previous tone.  It’s warmer, it’s familiar, it’s like home.

“What about you?”  You mumble, staring dumbly into his big brown eyes, his lashes heavy against his cheeks, unlike how they were seconds ago when he was wild-eyed and riled up.  He was still riled up, that was for sure but now…now it was diluted with something else.

“Don’t worry about me, Bambi.”  The term of endearment slips from his tongue effortlessly.  Like it was meant to fall from his lips directly into your ears.  Like it was meant for you and only for you, always.

With parted lips, you can see your breath escape into the night.  You know he can hear your labored breathing and you should be embarrassed but you can’t find it in yourself to care when his gaze softens, the sturdy exterior he had built up again crumbling just as it had that one night.

“I do worry.”  

It falls from your lips quicker than you can contain it.  You shouldn’t be offering him such compassion, not when he was so okay with insulting you hours earlier.  But pools of melted chocolate never left you any other choice but to get lost in them.  He moves in closer, ever so slightly, only enough that you feel the familiar warmth of his breath on your cheek, so that you can still make out his whole face.

“Don’t.”  He says breathily.

“Why?”

He only shrugs, his focus trailing down your face, reaching every inch.  It makes you want to shy away but you can’t, not when he looks so sincere.

“‘M sorry.”  He whispers, reaching up to brush a rogue strand of hair from your face.

Your instinct is to ask ‘for what?’, but you know better.  You don’t need to play dumb, both of you are aware of his nasty words and your tendency to take things to a level they should have never gotten to.  You’re both to blame.  But you don’t need to pretend to not know what he’s apologizing for.  There’s no pretending with him.  So you can only hope that he’ll see through to the deeper meaning of your initial question. 

“For what?”

For what?  Would he say that he’s only sorry he hired you in the first place?  Or that he’s sorry he ever met you.  Would he understand your words and be in tune enough to decipher them?

“Everything.”  He whispers.

It’s quiet, almost eerily but not.  No, it’s too peaceful to be eerie.  The first snowflakes of the season are still falling and you’re standing outside the bar with Eddie Munson, a man who was so stubborn he seemed almost impossible.  Almost, but not.  Never for you.

“Everything.”  You repeat.  And he knows he owes you more.

“Everything.”  He swallows the lump in his throat that was preventing him from saying the necessary words.  It goes down smoother than he expects.  “Every second I was ever an asshole to you.  Especially my stupid ass comment about Jett.  I-I was mad and I took it out on you.  I tend to do that pretty often don’t I?”  He laughs humorlessly.  “I don’t think less of you if you’re actually…y’know.”  He gestures vaguely.

“What?”  You ask, genuine confusion taking over your features.

For a moment, his eyes shift back and forth, as if to beg you not to make him say it.

“With Jett.”  He mumbles, gaze now avoiding you.

“With Jett.”  You repeat in disbelief.  “I have done nothing to suggest we are at all together.”  You scoff.  

“I know.”  Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, as if he’s bracing for more choice words from you.  They don’t come.  “I know.  I just, he got in my head and–”

“Got in your head?” 

“It was nothing, he got in my head and got all, I dunno protective?  If that’s even the word.  He just seemed jealous, okay?”  Eddie explains.  “I know that’s not an excuse for what I said.  I’m really sorry for saying you dry hump–”

“Don’t ever use the word dry hump and Jett in a sentence where you’re referring to me again.”  You laugh.  This time humor floods through you.  His whole demeanor relaxes, shoulders less tense.  “It’s happened one too many times.”  You cringe jokingly.

“Okay, that’s fair.”  He smiles, that boyish grin returning to his face.  The one you hadn’t seen in days, the one you missed every time, the second he directed it toward you the first time.  His dimples deep, eyes shy, he still lingers close to your face, neither of you protesting the invasion of each other’s space.  “Now put your arms in the sleeves.”  He demands, tugging on the collar of his jacket still laying over your shoulders.  “Please.”  His face only inches closer to yours as he convinces you to shove your arms into his jacket.

“We’re about to go inside, I won’t need it.”  You argue, crossing your arms in front of you, a hip jutting out with sass.

“Oh okay, we’re back to this then?”  He smirks, finger grazing the button at the lapel of his jacket, almost scorching the skin of your neck.

That familiar spark ignites in his eyes, the fire that showcased so much unexplored emotion, so many uncharted territories within the man before you.  You wanted to explore them all, you wanted to hold his hand and trek across each foreign feeling.  You wanted to bathe in the sparks and light yourself on fire to speed up the process.  You didn’t just want to burn for him, you wanted to burn with him.  Your soul was drawn to him, you wanted to melt into him, melt into his touch, even if it was just his fingertip.  You’d take what you could get.  And you were really convinced that he wanted the same things solely based on the way he was looking at you with heavy eyes and rosy cheeks.

“Yeah, I’m not done addressing my grievances with you.”  You joke.

At this, he lights up even more, his entire face exhibiting pure fondness.  His lips are so perfectly pink, a little chapped, but the sweetest pink you’d ever seen.  They were pillowy and plush and as he licked them you blinked, falling out of your trance.  Then, his hands travel down the zipper of his jacket, only touching the worn material and not at all forcing his touch upon you though he longs to feel your warmth.  

Instead, he pulls you forward by gripping each side of the jacket, leaving you no choice but to come flush with his chest.  You welcome the heat, the sudden warmth that engulfs you like a cozy blanket calms your chattering teeth.  

“Yeah?”  He whispers, nose nearly bumping against yours.  You wish it would.

“Yeah.”

Your lashes just barely flutter against his cheek, only teasing him of what he actually desires, and you don’t even know it.  He’s glancing between your eyes and your lips and your internal reaction is to scream at him to just do it.  But is that even what he’s hinting at doing?  Maybe there was something on your face.  You weren’t going to assume his intentions and make yourself out to be a fool.

He hums in response, his hands still tightly clutching the jacket, the damn jacket that you were now wishing he never put on you just so you could feel his skin, the heat of his hands against your arms.  The ache was becoming too apparent in your chest, you needed him and there was no way to express it.  You couldn’t.

He smells of tobacco and a hint of pine.  Even a tiny bit of spice from some kind of cologne you’d grown used to smelling on him.  There’s a waft of beer falling from his breath as well, not too obvious, but obvious enough that you can gather that he had at least had a beer before work or during his break.

“Do me a favor?”  He asks.  And in that moment, you would do anything.

“Mm?” 

A quick finger pokes your nose playfully.  “No more tequila.”  

You can only laugh along with him, almost burying your head in his chest but refraining as you enter your body again.  This was not a daydream and he was not someone to call yours.  Fooling yourself was only going to get you hurt.

“I’m serious, it fucking stinks.”  He scrunches up his face in mock disgust, plugging his nose, you giggling along with his antics.

With that, he pulls away, leaving you feeling frigid, already missing his presence even if he was still right in front of you.  Opening the door, he gestures for you to go ahead of him.  The atmosphere had been flipped upside down, all hostility left outside in the cold to be swept away in a snowstorm.  

–

“And then Eddie fucking jumps off his roof!”  

The bar fills with laughter, unfiltered, stomach grabbing laughter of five friends and yourself.  The regular customers had long gone and paid their tabs, leaving the bar empty and the possibilities endless as everyone shared treasured stories over beers and drinks.  Steve appears to be pleased with himself as the laughter carries on for over a minute.  The image of Eddie drunk and jumping off of his roof as a means to prove he can ‘fly’ only to face plant into the ground and be driven to the ER was somehow the best entertainment you’d been faced with in a while.  

It was mentioned that he didn’t get injured too badly and only required a few stitches above his eyebrow where you could now seek out a scar and remember this night.  The night Eddie’s friends accepted you into their circle.  Even if only for the night.

“Well what about when you got a lampshade stuck on your head.”  Eddie points at Steve with his beer bottle.

Steve only offers a disapproving expression as the giggles erupt once again.  Robin sits to your right while Nancy sits to your left.  The pair had immediately taken a liking to you and moved chairs just so you could sit between them.  It felt nice, you felt welcome.  You had no worries and nowhere to be.  And for once that made you feel alive rather than anxious.

“Okay, but can we talk about you babysitting Eddie on Halloween?”  Nancy attempts to hold in her laughter.  She had said it quietly but not quietly enough as Eddie deadpans her.  

Robin lets out a shriek of laughter, clearly intoxicated.  You can only grin at everyone’s reaction.  Steve and Dustin had gotten into some kind of a ridiculous argument and throughout the night, you noticed it was a regular occurance.  They paid no mind to embarrassing Eddie further but Nancy had no issue with it even if she wasn’t outright talking to the whole group in the first place and only you and Robin.

“What, Munson?  You got plastered and she had to save the day.”  Nancy giggles.  She had obviously been a little wine drunk, a tiny bit tipsy.

“Yes, it’s very funny.”  He says monotone.  “Can we find a new joke now?”  He asks, rolling his eyes although you know he’s only playing around, his lips threatening to pull themselves into a smile.

“It’s okay to get white girl wasted every once in a while.”  You banter.

“Oh, it is?”  Eddie raises a brow.  “It’s okay to puke all over me after getting white girl wasted?  Off of my tequila?”

The table erupts in a series of ‘oh’s’.  You could take offense.  But it was so much more fun to mess with him.

“I’m not the one who got puked on at least.”  You shrug, unbothered.

The table gets loud again, siding in your favor based on their volume.

“Yeah?”  He asks.  As if you two were suddenly the only people in the bar.  As if his friends had disappeared.  As if you were back outside behind the bar just a few hours ago.

“Yeah.”  You answer, a certain softness in your tone that only he could understand.

Nancy’s gaze flits in between you, mischief crossing her features for a brief second, you swear you see it.  But nothing comes of it as she turns her attention to the argument that Dustin and Steve had started up again.  Robin chimes in every now and then, hiccuping dramatically.  You and Eddie, though a little buzzed, can’t stop staring at each other from across the table.  His gaze is heavy and yearning but for what you’re not sure.

His bottom lip continues to get tugged in between his teeth, abusing the already chapped skin as he unknowingly communicates his nervousness.  The only thing you’re sure of is that he won’t tear his eyes away from you.  Not for Steve’s request to aid in the argument, not for Dustin’s screeching voice demanding he take his side, and not for Jett who was making it known that he was leaving for the night.  Eddie only mutters in response, something along the lines of ‘see you tomorrow’.  Steve and Dustin are too caught up to even pay any mind to Eddie’s ignorance to their debate.  Robin is in her own world, curling her legs up to her chest in her chair as she becomes fascinated with the wood grain in the table while Nancy pretends to be preoccupied with swirling the wine in her glass and acts as if she’s listening to Dustin’s reasoning, nodding every now and then.  But you notice the way her diamond eyes take in the scene before her.  And now you’re sure that she has no interest in Eddie nor has she ever shown it.  

But she does have an interest in whatever was happening between you and Eddie.  She was studying the chemistry.

–

It was 4:00 AM, the sun would be emerging just on the Horizon within hours.  An exhausted Steve lays his head on the table over his folded arms.  Drool threatens to fall from the corner of his lip onto his sleeve, his mouth hanging open as he sleeps almost like a newborn.  Every other breath a deep snore rumbles through him.

“This isn’t even the weirdest place he’s fallen asleep.”  Dustin snaps a polaroid, the flash doing little to make Steve stir in his slumber, his eyelids only twitching as he navigates his dreams.  “One time we found him under his bed.”

You chuckle at the sight, Steve had been completely hammered off of several beers and a few shots of vodka that Robin had convinced him to take with her.  The second he wakes up, he’s in for a rude awakening, you’re sure.  

“Do you take a picture every time?”  You ask as Dustin hands off the developing picture to you, only to continue getting just the shot he wanted as he crouched down to get a better view of Steve’s face.

“Of course.”  He laughs, stating it like there was no other option.

“Steve’s reputation with drinking isn’t necessarily…the best?”  Nancy speaks, setting a fresh glass of water on the table in front of him.

You’d learned throughout the night that Steve and Nancy dated in highschool and although it was a nasty breakup, they remained friends and it never was weird after that.  They respected each other as they did their other friends and it showed.  

“I mean…I don’t think it’s that bad.  He’s just sleeping.  I’ve dozed off while drunk a few times.”  You defend.

“Yeah but have you dozed off in places people couldn’t even find you until we tore the house apart?”  Dustin counters with raised eyebrows.  “He also used to reign under the title ‘King Steve’ if that tells you anything.”

Showing your hands in surrender, you begin collecting the remaining glasses from the table.  Several dozen shot glasses that had provided a good night but would surely bring on a rough morning for those that had participated.  You’d taken two shots throughout the night and had half of Robin’s Dirty Shirley that she couldn’t seem to stomach.  And she wouldn’t quit until it was gone so you humbly volunteered seeing as she was already almost obliterated, stumbling around anytime she got up and slurring every word.

Robin was now talking Eddie’s ear off as she sat at the bar, narrating every piece of her life that he’d missed since she visited and last updated him.  You could vaguely make out her explanation for still not getting her driver’s license, stating that Steve was more than okay with being her chauffeur for the foreseeable future.  Then she insisted that should she get her license, she’d be an even worse driver than Eddie used to be so it’d be in everyone’s best interest to keep her off the roads.  

Eddie hums along to the conversation, letting Robin steer the topic as he leisurely polishes the glasses he hadn’t gotten to earlier, his friends occupying his full attention a majority of the night.  An impressive pile of glasses and cups are building up on your tray, Nancy assisting in collecting what she could as she follows you toward the bar.  

“Nance!  Tell him!”  Robin whines.  “Tell him how I’m a danger to the roads of suburbia!”

“You are most definitely a danger.”  Nancy smiles softly, moving Robin’s bangs out of her eyes with her free hand before delivering the glasses she’d collected onto the counter.

“See!”

“No need to convince me, Buckely.”  Eddie throws his rag over his shoulder.  “Although I’d probably have the time of my life with you behind the wheel.”  He grins, scooping up the tray you were having trouble setting down.  “But I’d also prefer to live a little longer so you avoid that DMV for as long as you can.”

Nancy nods in agreement, taking a seat on the stool next to Robin.  As you rush around the counter to assist in washing the remaining glasses, large brown eyes follow you, as if they missed you.  Like they’d never been happier to see you.  You still shy away from them, only because you’re not sure how long you can last until you melt, until your knees collapse beneath you and you’re a puddle on the floor.

“So what’s our game plan this time for getting Steve to the car?”  Nancy asks.

“Leave ‘em here.”  Robin slouches in her seat.

“Rob–”

“I second that.”  Eddie chuckles.  

“You guys are awful!”  Nancy proclaims.

You can only giggle to yourself, bubbles coating your hands as warm water leaks down to your elbows as you scrub each glass.  A sudden hip jabs into your side, creating enough room for Eddie’s lean frame to partake in the chore.  

“What’s so funny, Bambi?”  He questions, quiet enough for only you to hear.

You shake your head, still tuning into Robin’s scheme to leave Steve behind.  She had obviously been joking, the two constantly bickering with one another throughout the night like siblings only proving so.  But she seemed to enjoy pressing Nancy’s buttons as she persisted in her idea of abandoning the poor guy.

“Nothing.”  You mutter.

Your backs are facing the two girls, neither of them able to sneak a glance at Eddie’s wandering eyes that you could very clearly spot just out of your peripheral vision.  His hands continued to concentrate on the task at hand though not very well as he scrubbed the same tiny shot glass for at least two minutes too long.

“Y’know, you’re not being very helpful.”

With a click of his tongue, he finally sets the overly-clean glass atop the drying rack, reaching over you in the process.  It only made you aware of his comforting smell that you had basked in out in the cold earlier.  You’d never imagine wishing to do dishes for the rest of eternity but here you were, hoping that an eyelash would fall onto your cheek just so you could wish on it to stay in this very moment.

“‘M not?”  He smirks.

“Nope, you’re just making more work for me.”

“Oh, you tell him!”  Dustin suddenly peaks over both of your shoulders, quiet as a mouse until he had made his presence known.  It startles you, a gasp escaping your lips.

“Henderson, don’t sneak up on people like that.”  Eddie holds a hand over his chest.

“Look alive.”  He shrugs, snooping around at the shelves that would otherwise be obscured from his view on the other side of the bar.

“Nothin’ for you back here, you’re not even twenty one.”  Eddie turns around, leaning against the sink and crossing his arms.  

“Wha-oh don’t be like that!  I only have like two more years and that’s rich coming from you of all people, Eddie.”  Dustin points a finger, sticking it harshly into Eddie’s chest.  

“Do as I say, not as I do.”  Eddie mumbles, returning to his task, snatching up the last two glasses that remained before you could, swatting your hands away.

“What’s he talking about?”  You dare to ask.

Dustin brings an arm over your shoulder, the other over Eddie’s, a huge grin plastered on his face as if he’d been waiting for you to ask the question.  Eddie only offers him a side eye, nothing malicious but a light warning.

“Eddie here used to have a big reputation.”  He explains, patting him on the back.  Eddie only rolls his eyes, clearly indicating that he didn’t have any real issue with Dustin revealing pieces of his past.

“Oh?”  You wipe your hands on a nearby rag, turning toward Dustin, intrigued.

“Yeah, he used to be the friendly neighborhood drug dealer.”

Your face doesn’t shift, only making it more difficult to gauge your reaction.  Eddie starts to fear that this was going to be your wakeup call.  Your revelation as to who he really was.  He knows Dustin meant know harm in it and to be fair, the kid had probably snuck a few beers away from Steve.  There was no ill intent, only playful banter although Eddie hadn’t anticipated how you might have felt about his previous endeavors until after Dustin spoke those words.

“Dustin!”  Robin calls for his attention, chewing on a cocktail straw.  

Without a second thought, the boy turns his attention toward the two girls sitting at the bar, making his way around to take a seat next to Robin only to assist her in some kind of party trick she had been trying to work out with a napkin.

“How’s it go?”  She mutters around the straw.

Eddie stares at the bubbles in the sink like they’re the only thing in the room, his eyes following each one drifting toward the drain and idling at the bottom of the basin as the remaining water drains.  Sparkly little bubbles created reflections in his eyes that could resemble stars.  And he waits.

He waits for your reaction, waits for you to detach yourself from him because god, he didn’t know what was happening between you two since stepping back inside the bar all those hours ago but he didn’t want it to end just because his past put you off.  It was inevitable that the single good thing happening to him would come to an end.  That this night would end.

He doesn’t expect you to shove your hip into his just as he had done to you earlier, twirling a rag in between your fingers, offering him a smirk.  

“Big reputation, huh?”  You playfully raise your eyebrows up and down.

Relief washes over him.  It doesn’t have to end.  This night isn’t over, maybe he can have whatever this is for a few more minutes, an hour if he’s lucky.  He’d delay going home if it meant you’d keep toying with him, teasing him over silly little things that his friends had told you about.  He didn’t mind, not when your face would light up at every tiny ‘secret’ you were let in on.  Eddie knew very well that his friends had been enlightening you with small details about his life back in Hawkins, about every time they’d visited Knife’s Edge, all the big moments and embarrassing drunk shenanigans.  He didn’t mind.  Because it meant that they’d already accepted you as one of their own.

“Shut up.”  He gently nudges your shoulder with his.

~end~

Masterlist

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[aq2003]

I find the decision to write the first Doctor as sort of cartoonishly bigoted in the episode with Twelve fascinating, because it shifts the blame for the racism, sexism etc present in early Doctor Who from the writers and producers to the *character*. It wasn’t the Doctor who wrote limited character arcs for female characters in comparison to male ones, and it wasn’t the Doctor who decided to use yellow-face for the characters in some episodes - that was the writers and production team. Y’know, real people. People whose legacy the current writers and producers of the show - who have also largely been white men, just like their predecessors - owe their jobs to.

And the persistent problem with continuing to sideline and tokenise the characters of some of the female companions and characters of colour in the service of centring the doctor as the (until recently) white male protagonist - that continued for most of the modern reboot in some form. Some of the elements of that were even new innovations under the modern writers (looking at you Moffat but you are not the only offender.) I mean, we’re talking about the portrayal of One as the past’s ambassador for sexism in iirc the exact same episode where Chris Chibnall reversed the previous episode’s ending of Bill surviving with Heather and re-buried the lesbians by sending Bill directly to the ‘your soul is canonically dead’ zone.

I absolutely can’t speak for the whole of the first Doctor’s tenure because I’ve only seen about 2/3 of his surviving episodes, but from the episodes I have seen, he didn’t even talk like that. There was a very big problem with that run of the show, but it was a different problem to the one the episode with One and Twelve is describing. One was weird as hell, but he was much less overtly hostile, wished much less bodily harm on minority groups and even dipped into less microaggressions and dogwhistles than most older white British people do now. That isn’t to say One’s behaviour in Old Who was something to aim for, it’s to say that a lot of the improvement in the attitude of white people in Britain over the last half-century has been performative at best, imaginary at worst, a lot of our dogwhistles are new and especially alarming for that reason - and it comforts white people to imagine that the racism and sexism of the past was overt and vulgar and unlike theirs, and that their bigotry by comparison is lesser and better and therefore doesn’t need further work; that now people affected by it just need to learn to live with it, because you’re lucky we’re not like our grandparents.

But that excuse doesn’t really work if (tw racism, anti-blackness, Islamophobia, death) some sects of British society talk more positively about drowning immigrants in the English Channel than they did 100 years ago, does it?

That excuse doesn’t work if your grandparents were actually quite a lot like you.

I live in the UK, about half the people I know watched the special with Twelve and One, and considering that vanishingly few modern viewers have seen or remember the first Doctor or any early Old Who, there was this odd awkward relief from most of the white people I watched the episode with, like they’d been absolved from Britain’s historical and current racism by the burning of an effigy. Like that bigotry coming from One’s mouth was a reassurance that this country’s bigotry had always been as cartoonish and ineffectual and easy to see as the lines Chris Chibnall and his colleagues wrote for One; that white people living in the UK now are fundamentally different than they were; and by watching Bill and One’s (still white) successor refuse his cartoonishly awful worldview, white Brits had somehow cleansed themselves and buried the past completely.

But the vast majority of the racism, bigotry, sexism in the original run of Doctor Who and still present in various forms in the show now did not actually take the form of nice clear, simple statements of bigoted beliefs from the characters’ mouths - it was in the writing. The way characters and especially cultures were portrayed. The yellow-face in one of Two’s story arcs really stuck in my mind, but the way Old Who handled nonwhite cultures in general was often horrific. The first Doctor was often perfectly polite, but women and characters of colour were sidelined and (even in instances when it was clearly accidental) dangerously misrepresented throughout the show in ways that persist well into the post-2000 reboot, because the sexism and racism wasn’t in the character.

The sexism and racism was in the writers’ room.

I don’t have any sentimental attachment to Old Who, I was born about a decade after it ended, but deflecting the cultural problems in the BBC that persist to this day onto one of the show’s characters, by having him express an easily-digestible form of bigotry much less dangerous and insidious than the one that was actually present in the early show, feels like a dangerous form of scapegoating.

Something I think would have meant much, much more would have been an apology *outside of the show* from the BBC and the show’s current writers for the wide variety of sincerely-held bigotries that were actually present in the first run of the show, and a public acknowledgement of the pervasive, insidious forms those bigotries actually often took in the show’s writing - and also an acknowledgement of the show’s continuing shortfalls in its handling of race and gender over the last twenty years - because that would have been much more productively challenging for viewers of the show (more or less the whole of the British public at some point in their lives) to have to consider. Which I have to assume is why they went down the reassuring ���the first Doctor has died for our sins’ route instead.

This is just my two cents, I am also white and British so please take this perspective with a grain of salt.

Mm. I don’t know. This country loves letting ourselves off too easily, and the writing of One in that episode feels the like easiest and for that reason least effective way of reckoning with the way we were in the 1900s. Don’t worry everyone, at the turn of the millennium both the show and the country of Britain were reborn without sin!

this is such a good writeup anon. i don't have a lot to add - just that im asian-american and a lot of what you said aligns with rhetoric i've also seen in the states - that being this sense that racism is just something of the past rather than a fundamental, systemic issue that the country was built on. and yeah one thing that really struck me while watching twice upon a time was how one's bigotry was always framed as a joke. bill straight up says to twelve "i hope we laugh about it for 20 years" or whatever and it just reeks of "To Our White Audience: be not afraid. you're not racist like the 1st doctor who lived far into the past. see? the one black character knows we're not racist now. please give yourselves a pat on the back". and like, it's not funny to any people of color that might be watching. it's just prioritizing the comfort of white people. and it's pretty terrible that moffat (he wrote the episode, chibnall just wrote thirteen's first lines. but also i know chibnall took nuwho into its least progressive era so...) felt like he had a right to make light of this stuff when he has committed some pretty egregious crimes in his tenure himself

[judesmoonbeauty]

Quick Quip from Licht Klein’s Act 2 Ch. 10 - w/Azel

Just a quick quip from chapter 10 summary t/l - not 100%. Idk why, but I can’t help but laugh at Azel and his salesman ways 😝

///denotes alt translation

After waking from a dream about the rose in the rose garden, Emma receives a knock at her door. It’s Azel. It’s the middle of the night and he lets himself into her room.

Emma asks if this is common Tanzanite etiquette. He says it’s not but he doesn’t really care. He is there with an offer. 

Azel gives Emma three packages to choose from - each costing money from her - he’s not helping out the goodness of his heart. 

The lowest option plan is delivery service of a letter he offers one way and round-trip deliveries, but the cost will vary.

The middle plan includes a monitoring service of Licht and his well-being, & the letter delivery service.

The high option plan of Azel his authority to bring Licht back.

Since Emma can’t afford to pay out, she chooses option 3 the most affordable package.

He congratulates her for her choice and offers to bless her letter at an additional service fee………(🙄 oh god.)

Emma thinks that when Azel is silent he really seems like a god, but as soon as he opens his mouth he seems strangely vulgar///mundane.

————

I’m planning to translate summaries of each chapter once I complete his first ending. There is part of this conversation where his veil is slightly lifted imo and it gives me a little reassurance of some theories I have about him. This will be posted later.

[cheolhub]

could you do number 54 or 99 with seungcheol please!!

SAR’S 3K MILESTONE EVENT

prompt. “c’mere, you can come sit in my lap until i’m done working.”

pairing. seungcheol x f!reader

wc. 824 (i literally don’t know what happened im sorry)

warning. thigh riding, needy!reader, soft dom!cheol, lots of teasing, pet names (baby, princess), allusions to dumbification, ummm idk what else — MINORS DNI 18+

note. hi anon! i chose 54 bc i wanted to write thigh riding LOL i hope u like this T-T it was lowkey kinda rushed </3

you’re pacing, probably creating a draft outside of seungcheol’s study. you’d much rather be in bed doing other things, but god forbid your boyfriend take a step away from work even if it was just for a second. 

seungcheol notices the way you walk past the wide-open door several times, an amused smirk sitting on his face while he continues to work. he understands you’re a bit… worked up right now, but he just needs to finish one more thing and he’s all yours.

it’s when you start obnoxiously sighing every time you pass the door that he breaks out into a full grin, a quiet chuckle escaping his lips. 

“hey, baby?” he calls and your ears perk up when you hear the pet name, practically prancing into the room with hearts in your eyes. 

you smile sweetly at him, “yes, cheollie?” you sing.

he gives you a playful look when he asks, “what are you doing?” as if he didn’t already know. 

“nothin,’” you shrug with a toothy grin. “just waiting for you to fuck me into the mattress like you promised you would’ve 2 hours ago– and by the way… is that still happening?”

he leans back in his chair adjusting his glasses. he hums out his response, voice dropping a bit, “mhm it is, is my pretty baby needy?”

your smile dissipates and pout is quick to form on your lips. “cheol, don’t tease, ‘m already a mess.” 

he coos, “oh, my poor thing.” his words are mocking, but he’s quick to make up for it. “c’mere baby, you can sit in my lap until i’m done working.”

you nearly jump him at that, running over and straddling just one of his deliciously thick thighs on the spacious chair. he smiles at you, mumbling something about how cute you are before his hands find your waist. 

you wrap your arms around his neck, “so, how much longer…?”

“not much, princess. if you’re good ‘n let me work, i can be done within the next 30 minutes.” he tells you, hands sliding up and down your sides which seems to be doing more harm than good to your soaking cunt. 

you sigh, nodding your head before clinging to his body, shoving your head in the crook of his neck as he removes his hands and returns to work. your senses are full of him, his cologne making your head spin and the ache in your beyond agonizing.

you don’t even realize how much time passes by before you’re subtly rubbing against his thigh till he’s humming, hands back on your hips to guide you. you whine into his skin at the feeling of his large hands squeezing your flesh and your pussy pulsing uncontrollably. 

he snickers at your helplessness. “aren’t you just the neediest little thing? can’t even wait 30 minutes for my dick, baby?” 

“b-been waiting all day… need it now.”

“oh, you need it, do you?” his patronizing tone has your hips involuntarily stuttering. “gonna show me then? show me how much this pretty pussy needs to get fucked?” 

you whine, his vulgar words sending shockwaves straight to your cunt, “ch-cheol, please.”

“there’s my girl, i knew you didn’t forget your manners.” he praises with another smile though you couldn’t be bothered with the way your overly-sensitive pussy clenches. he flexes his thigh and your desperate whines turn into even more desperate moans. “gonna cum like this?”

you nod your head, one of your hands slipping to the back of his, threading your fingers through the brown locks. the other comes to roughly grip and pull at his shirt desperately. you attempt to salvage any dignity you may have left when your mouth opens and your teeth sink into his neck to muffle your embarrassing moans. 

seungcheol revels in your reaction to simply grinding on his thigh. he has to admit that this might be the hottest thing he’s ever seen in his life and it’s making him so fucking hard.

“alright, baby, you’re close right? cum for me and i’ll fuck you brainless, can you do that? can you cum for me?” 

at the inviting incentive, you nod, huffing and puffing as you feel your impending orgasm swirl in the pit of your tummy. cheol can hear how close you are in your moans, each getting more pitchy and breathless as they come. 

when the rubber band in your stomach snaps, you jolt in his grasp, incessantly crying out his name followed by some vulgar curses. your hips are slowing down but still bucking against his thigh as you’re coming down from your orgasm. soon after, with cheol rubbing your back, your heavy lids flutter close and you slump against his body, still panting. 

“good girl.” he whispers. “did so well, you know that?”

you mumble into his neck, “fuck me brainless.” the words parrot his previous ones and he can’t help the laugh that escapes him. 

“don’t worry, i will.”

© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.

[drymushroomfics]

A Gift {2/3}

Chapter 2: Birthday

Rory McCann x Female Reader Ch. 1 Ch. 3

Waking up, you take a look around the room. In nothing but your bra, you notice your dress and ripped underwear on the floor. Memories start to flood back from last night. You run your hands through your dishovled hair and let out a breath. You don't even know what to think of it. You were so worn out that it didn't take you long to fall asleep after he left you. You don't even know what last night will do to your friendship with Rory. You've always had a crush on him but it turned into something more last year when you went sailing with him for a couple days. Waking up and spending all day with him and no one else made you realize just how much you enjoyed him just as he was.

You knew you loved him. Now everything might be ruined. You get out of bed to find your phone, hoping to find a text or call from him. Nothing from him. Only texts from your other friends, wishing you a happy birthday. You loved hearing from your friends but the ache and worry only dulled the gratitude.

•○•◇•○•♡•○•◇•○• Rory sips at his morning coffee, his mind whirrling with negativity. Last night was too much for him. He was so rough and vulgar with you and you loved it. He'd never heard a woman make the noises you did last night and even thinking about it now, it made him hard. He feels ashamed of how much he enjoyed treating you that way. His insecurities start to seep in further realizing that you were moaning for Sandor; not him. He worries that you only want the fantasy of the Hound and not who he really is. He's just Rory, your close friend. He's worried that's all he'll ever be to you. He's worried that what he did last night really fucked up your friendship. •○•◇•○•♡•○•◇•○• A little into the afternoon, you finally decide to out right face your woes and call him.

The line rings and you fiddle with the edge of your shirt.

You can't help but to smile despite your worries when you hear his voice.

"Hey… Are you alright?… I'm just calling to check on you. I haven't heard from you… Since yesterday", you say.

"I should've already called to check on you… I should've already wished you a Happy Birthday…I'm sorry… I really am… I should've talked to you before and-"

"You don't have to apologize, Rory…. It was… I can't imagine a better gift… for any holiday, really…"

You hear him let out a sigh of relief.

"So… you enjoyed it?… Even how I treated you…", he asks.

"I think uh… it was pretty obvious."

He laughs, "I guess it was… I uh… I enjoyed myself…but you already know that too."

"Wanna come over and get drunk with me, then?"

Rory remembers the surprise party. Everyone's ambushing your house at nine so if he came by earlier, it'd give you time to talk.

"Eight tonight, alright with you?", he asks you.

"Perfect…. You're not gonna roll in here in a wheelchair next, are you?", you ask, joking with him.

"You're unbelieveable!"

You laugh.

"No… I don't think I could do to you what I did last night in a wheelchair."

Heat spreads through you at his statement.

"Maybe my next birthday? I'll get the Kenny special?"

"Funny… See you at eight, y/n."

•○•◇•○•♡•○•◇•○• Hearing Rory's knock at the door, you try to mentally prepare yourself for seeing him again.

When you do open the door, your eyes meet and you both stand there unsure of yourselves and each other.

"Happy Birthday.", he smiles, hoping to break the tention.

Your heart always melt when he smiles at you.

"Thanks, Rory.", you reply, letting him in and taking the wine he'd brought.

He follows you inside and memories can't help but come back of you and him last night. The way he touched you; the way he fucked you. Your face heats up and you do your best to dismiss it. Pouring the wine for each of you, you can't help but wonder what's going through his head as he stands in your kitchen.

"Wanna sit outside?… It's nice out. Not as cool as I thought it'd be tonight.", he offers, slipping out of his sweater.

You nod following him onto the back porch.

You and him take a seat on your outdoor swing, looking out at the darkened sky.

"I have to ask… What made you think of uh… bringing Sandor back out as my gift?, you ask him.

He scratches at the back of his neck, his nerves flashing through him.

"Well… I knew you liked him… I wanted to give you something no one else could… I think I managed that."

You let out a little chuckle, "That you did… But uh… You were there too, Rory… You… You came down my throat. I don't think that happens when you're just friends, mostly."

His face reddens at your words.

He moves his hand to take hold of yours. You turn to look at him as he takes in a breath, nervous to confess his true feelings. Looking into your soft eyes, he knows he has to be honest.

"I wanted it… I wanted you… I just… Maybe I should've told you before barging in and making thinks complicated… I thought if you didn't want me, then I could at least give you something you wanted while being selfish and experiencing my wants as well."

You move your free hand up to the side of his face, "Rory… You didn't have to dress up as anyone to give me a fantasy… When I told you that you were enough of a gift, I meant it… Don't get me wrong, last night was beyond wonderful but, under those clothes, was just you; Your mind… Your body… That's all you… and I want you."

His heart swells at your reply, all his fears and worries leaving him. He takes his hand and pulls yours from the side of his face to kiss your soft palm.

You find yourself leaning forward, reaching up to meet his lips. His hand goes to the back of your neck, cradling you there. Thats when both of of you realize that you never kissed each other. Not once last night did your lips touch, making right now so much sweeter.

"I think I'd like to request one more gift for my birthday…", you tell him when you pull away.

"..and quite frankly on any other day of the week… I want you, Rory. Not someone with your face. You just as you are. I want to see you and it'd be nice if you didn't bolt afterwards…", you explain.

"I really am sorry… I started to get second guess everything and had to leave before I broke character. I wanted it to be special for you."

"Of course it was. But, I think I can say that I'll always prefer the real you… Don't ever think less."

You smile at each other before his lips meet yours again.

Visions of you on your knees and his cock in your mouth flash through his mind and he feels his arousal growing. Just as your hand moves to his jeans, you both hear knocking.

"Who is that?", you ask, confused and breathless.

"Fuck.", he groans, straightening himself.

"Go answer the door.", he tells you.

Confusion on your face, you walk inside and toward your front door.

"SURPRISE!", your friends yell as you open the door.

You smile brightly, greeting and hugging them.

They all step in, making themselves at home; as usual.

"Did you really think we'd leave you all alone on your birthday?!", your friend, Anna asks, setting down a white box on your kitchen table.

"Of course not.", you reply, moving to the cabinet and grabbing glasses to make drinks for your friends.

Your heard turns when you hear the back door shut. Rory steps into view and they all look at him.

"What were you two up to before we got here?", your other friend, Daniel asks with a smirk on his face.

"Talking, why?", you question, eyebrow arching.

"No reason…. Rory's shirt's a little unbuttoned."

You and Rory look at each other before realizing you never touched his shirt.

Your friends all laugh.

"Fuckin' caught ya! We've been tryin' to get you two to fuck for years!

It's about fuckin' time!", he laughs, holding up his drink to cheers.

"Oh fuck off!", you joke, holding up your own glass.

"Here's to you, my dear, and finally getting laid by our other dear friend, Rory!", Daniel announces.

Everyone clinks drinks.

Anna moves to open the white box she had set down, revealing a birthday cake with your name on it.

"You really didn't have to!", you smile at them.

"Oh shut it!", your other friend, Allen, chimes in, sticking candles in the cake.

They make you take a seat and you blush as everyone sings you Happy Birthday as Anna lights the candles.

"You better make a good wish.", Daniel winks.

You close your eyes, your brain immediately picturing Rory with his arms around you. You realize that you have everything you need right in this room.

You open your eyes, blowing out the fire.

Everyone cheers and clinks their glasses again.

You spend the rest of the evening with not a care in the world. Just you and your friends having a nice time.

Well, almost not a care in the world. You may not have had any worries the whole evening, but being interrupted by your friends earlier left you in a wanting state. Your mind couldn't let go of Rory's touch. You wanted him now.

[scarabsinthestardust]

Tender // Ch. 2

MASTERLIST

word count: 3400+

CHAPTER WARNINGS: descriptions of child abuse/neglect; mentions of religious violence; language; anxiety; unspecified undiagnosed mental illness; inability to talk about feelings; I guess a tiny bit of smut/foreplay but nothing too heated; small discussion about pregnancy; nightmares; sleep paralysis/sleep paralysis demon

The steady rainfall had turned all the dirt and clay into thick mud, making it difficult to walk through the sludge. The sky was dark, almost black clouds blocking out what remained of the evening sun. Flashes of heat lightning illuminated the tops of the trees and cast deep shadows across the forest floor. A little redheaded boy, no more than six, tried his best to protect himself from the elements but to no avail. His skin was caked in mud and his clothes were soaked, sending a chill through his tiny body.

The boy’s wrists were bound tightly and strung up to a tree branch, too high for him to reach. His wrists burned where the rope rubbed his flesh raw, and his shoulders ached from the strain of the unnatural stretch as his arms were forced above his head. He screamed for help, but the sound was drowned out by the heavy rain and occasional thunder. It didn’t matter how much he cried, no one would hear him. No one was coming. His parents certainly weren’t, at least not yet. His father would come back and untie him in the morning, when the rain stopped and when he felt the boy had received an appropriate amount of punishment.

The boy’s mother called it the ‘wrath of God,’ but he didn’t understand what that meant, or what he had done wrong to earn his father’s anger.

~

“Uh, babe? Hello? Are you even listening to me?”

Josh snaps his fingers in front of my face, bringing my attention back to him. I must have zoned out. We’re seated on the patio of a new brunch restaurant across town that he wanted to check out. It’s a nice place, the food is delicious, but there’s so many fucking people walking past us, and I can’t focus. Why do I feel like they’re all staring?

“I’m sorry. I got distracted. What were you saying?”

He’s clearly annoyed at me, and it sparks a feeling in me I don’t particularly enjoy. “Cabin trip, next month. Are you in? Can you get off work for it?”

“I… yeah, I can. But I thought the cabin trips were just for the band, so you guys can write music?”

“Nah, it’s not that kind of trip. We just thought it might be nice, after the stress of… everything, to decompress. Ya know, get away from the city for a bit. I don’t know how much hiking we’ll do, with Sam still on crutches. He’s really excited about the trip, though. And I think it’ll be good for him. Kya’s coming, too.”

“I’m shocked your brother even agreed to let her go. He’s been up her ass about this baby. He doesn’t hardly let her do anything on her own.”

“If he had stayed up her ass, he wouldn’t have gotten her pregnant.” I want to roll my eyes at the stupid, vulgar joke, but I can’t help but laugh at the shit-eating grin on my boyfriend’s face. His expression softens as he continues. “I know Jake’s been paranoid and kind of annoying about the whole thing. He’s just scared. First kid jitters, I suppose. But I get it. And let’s be real, does anyone ever let Kya do anything?”

I shrug. He has a point. “Touche.”

“So? Will you come with us?” The idea of spending any amount of time in the middle of the woods makes me feel sick to my stomach. I don’t want to go. I don’t want to leave the safety of the city and its noise pollution and smog, only to breathe in the fresh mountain air that’s likely to stick to my throat and suffocate me. I don’t want to be left alone in the quiet with my thoughts and the memories I try so hard to forget. But then I look at Josh. There he goes again with those big, beautiful, brown eyes and pouty lips, and I’m incapable of telling him no.

~

This was a terrible idea. On our first night at the cabin, it rains. It isn’t a bad storm, but it’s enough to spike my anxiety. And now I have to hide it from not only Josh, but his brothers and Daniel, too. Kya picks up on my discomfort and I feel her hand on my arm, her thumb rubbing soothing circles into my skin. She’s offering a distraction without speaking, without calling me out in front of everyone, and I’m grateful she’s here.

I don’t want to sit on the couch – it’s too close to the window. What I would prefer to do is hide, but hiding requires self-isolation, and people notice self-isolation. So instead, I opt for a barstool on the outside of the kitchen island. Josh smiles sweetly at me before getting back to his current task.

He and Jake are in the kitchen, cooking dinner. They won’t tell us what it is, but it smells amazing. I watch him flit around, ever so gracefully, laughing with his twin, so lighthearted, so happy. He acts as though he doesn’t have a care in the world, there is nothing weighing him down. He’s surrounded by his family, and I have that nagging feeling that I don’t belong here.

We eat dinner and gather in the living room. I notice that no one brought any alcohol on the trip, solely for my sake, I’m sure. They rope me into playing some board games, and when everyone gets tired of that, they move onto playing music. I’m trying to relax, but it’s so difficult to convince myself that everything is going to be okay. Kya yawns and Jake suggests she go to bed; she agrees but drags him along with her. Sam is on the couch, his broken leg propped up, his back pressed into Daniel, who looks like he is about to fall asleep himself.

Josh seems to read my mind, announcing that we’ll be calling it a night as well. He disappears into the bathroom for his nightly rituals. I’ve never met a man with such a strict skincare routine.

The rain has stopped, so I walk over to the bedroom window and peek out between the curtains. I don’t know what I expected to find. It’s dark, the only light coming from the window I’m looking out of. I can’t even see the moon through the rain clouds. The familiar nausea begins to return. The shadows in the endless darkness seem to move, morphing into shapes and silhouettes that have haunted me since childhood. If I listen closely, I can hear the crickets chirping, maybe even an owl hooting in the distance, and it’s still too quiet. It’s not enough noise to silence my own thoughts. My mind is running too fast to keep up, and I feel my heart rate rise, my breath becoming uneven. What am I doing here? I’m gripping the edge of the windowsill to hold onto something solid, and I try to grasp onto the part of my brain that says I am fine, so that I can let go and enjoy myself here, but I’m failing. This isn’t West Virginia, I tell myself. They aren’t here. Nothing bad is going to happen. I’m safe. I’m –

Everything comes to a halt, my worries temporarily silenced when I feel a pair of arms wrap around my waist from behind me. The sweet smell of vanilla fills my nostrils, and he presses himself against my back. I lace my fingers with his and sigh, complacent for a moment.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just tired.” I turn to face him and wrap my arms around him before kissing the top of his head.

“You don’t have to lie to me, ya know.” I swear my heart stops when his words reach my ears. Is this it? Has he figured me out, seen right through me to the pieces of myself I endeavor to hold together like broken glass? Is this where I lose him? I thought I would have more time. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

He reads my silence for confusion, which isn’t entirely false, but it’s something more. It’s fear. He pulls away just enough to look me in the eyes, his head tilted upwards to make up for the height difference, but his hands don’t leave my waist. “You don’t like the rain. I can tell. You get all nervous and jittery. But you don’t have to deal with it alone, baby. Why…” He shakes his head. “Sorry, I won’t ask. You know me, I’m an inquisitive person. But I know you don’t like to talk about certain things, and you don’t have to explain any of it to me. I just wish you’d talk to me. Tell me that being in a cabin in the woods during the rainy season wigs you out, and then my dumbass will stop dragging you around to do things you don’t want to do. Tell me what you need. Let me be here for you.”

Fuck, I love him so much. There’s a split second, a tiny sliver of time in the shards of this universe, where I consider telling him everything. For a fraction of a moment, I want to let him in and open his eyes to all the horrible things that happen in my own head when he’s fast asleep. I want him to understand what molded me into what I am today, this damaged, shell of a coward. But the thought disappears as quickly as it came, and I know, like I’ve always known, that I can’t ever tell him the truth.

“I’m sorry. It’s just a little anxiety, but I’m okay.”

I can tell he isn’t satisfied with my answer, but he doesn’t push me for more. I pull him to me and press my lips to his. He’s so soft, and he tastes like mint and jasmine, the remnants of some fancy, overpriced, Italian toothpaste he likes. He smiles and hums when I pull away, his eyes still half-closed in a blissful haze. “And you didn’t ‘drag’ me out here,” I assure him. “I wanted to come, to be here with you.”

That seems to satiate him for the time being. “Well, I’m glad you came.” It’s comforting to know I haven’t ruined it yet. I meant it when I said I wanted to come on this trip with him, even if it’s primarily for the sake of being in his company. The rest is just a side effect, and he’s worth suffering for.

He sits on the bed and shoots me a mischievous look. “Ya know, I’m not even tired.”

His message is clear, and I close the distance between us. “Well,” I start, as I gently push him to lie down on the bed. “I suppose I’ll just have to tire you out a little.” I slowly follow until I’m straddling him, my knees on either side of his hips. He’s immediately responsive, bucking his hips for any kind of friction as he grabs my shirt and pulls me down to latch our lips together again. He doesn’t fight me as I use one hand to lift his, holding his wrists in place above his head. I begin kissing and nipping at his neck (always carefully – I’m not allowed to leave marks), and he lets a moan escape his lips.

“Your brothers are going to hear you,” I mutter.

“I’ll be quiet.”

I can’t help the snort of laughter that escapes me. “Babe, you’ve never been quiet a day in your life.”

He scoffs. “I can be quiet.”

“I don’t believe you.” I haven’t stopped my assault on his neck and my free hand is under his shirt, rubbing and kneading at his flesh. He’s writhing underneath me, begging for more. If I’m being honest, I don’t actually give a flying fuck if anyone hears us. Let them. It’s just a small reminder that he’s mine.

He struggles to get his next words out; I’m still amazed at how easy it is to turn him into a whimpering mess. “Fine,” he gasps. “If I can’t – ah – stay quiet, you’ll just have to find a way to – to keep my mouth occupied.”

My own movements stutter and I groan, instinctively grinding my hips into his. This man is going to be the death of me.

~

Dried leaves crunch under our feet as we traverse one of the nearby trails that will supposedly lead us to the lake. I’m feeling oddly peaceful today. Instead of haunting shadows and threatening whispers, I only hear birds and the light breeze rustling the trees. We’re moving at a fairly slow pace so Sam can keep up. Josh’s arm is looped with mine as we walk. He’s not speaking right now, a rare occurrence; he’s just soaking in the atmosphere and breathing in the fresh air. He’s practically glowing in the morning sun, and I’m content to simply observe him. He’s almost ethereal.

At some point, Jake says something to taunt Josh, in their typical, playful, sibling fashion, and Josh runs ahead to act out his ‘revenge’ on his twin. While they’re roughhousing, Kya retreats from the line of fire and falls into step next to me.

“How’re you holding up?”

“I’m… okay right now. What about you? The baby kicking your ass yet?”

As if on cue, Jake notices she’s fallen behind and starts to walk back to check on her. “Jacob,” she says sternly, like a warning to back off.

He puts his hands up defensively. “Sorry. Sorry. Minding by business.” He keeps his distance, but his eyes linger on his girlfriend, clearly concerned for her welfare.

Kya rolls her eyes in annoyance but offers Jake a reassuring smile. “He means well. I’ve just gotta train him not to be so damn worried all the time. And to answer your question, no, the little one’s been pretty well behaved. I don’t even get nauseous much these days.”

“When do you find out the gender?”

“Right after we get back home, actually. We were putting it off ‘cause we debated letting it be a surprise, but I like to be prepared.”

“Josh is one hundred percent convinced it’s definitely a girl.”

“Yeah, he thinks he’s got some special ‘baby ESP’ or some shit.” She says it loud enough for Josh to hear, and he turns to confront her, to which she responds by sticking her tongue out at him.

“You two are children,” I laugh. I envy Kya for how easy it seemed to be for her to integrate into this family. It appears to be effortless, at least to an outsider. I find myself hoping that I could follow her lead, and maybe Josh will keep me around long enough for me to start feeling like I’m meant to be here, too.

We make it to the lake, its crystal-clear water sparkling in the sun. Kya and Jake waste no time stripping down to their swimwear and submerging themselves. I hear Sam sigh sadly; he’s not supposed to get his cast wet, so he’s forced to sit this one out, but he swears he’s content to sit on the edge of the water and observe. Danny stays with him, ignoring Sam’s protests that he go swimming without him. Josh is pulling me excitedly towards the water’s edge, but I stop him.

“What’s wrong? You’re not coming?” He looks disappointed and it makes my chest hurt. He deserves honesty from me, I know that, even if it only comes in tiny, miniscule pieces.

“I, uh… I can’t swim.” I speak quietly and lower my head, cheeks burning with embarrassment. I don’t hate the water, per se. It’s often quite relaxing to wade where I can stand in it, but once it gets deep enough for my head to go under, the panic sets in.

“I didn’t know that. Do you want me to-“

I cut him off before he can finish the question. “No. Go swimming. I want you to enjoy yourself. I’ll be right here.”

I can tell he wants to argue – he always does – but he wrangles in that stubborn, feisty voice that I’m sure is clawing its way to the surface and nods, smiling softly. So, I situate myself with Sam and Danny, and I’m shockingly comfortable. Peace doesn’t come to me often, and I know it won’t last long, but I’ll savor it while it’s here. Josh seems at home, like he is anywhere he can be with his brothers. All the strain and pressure they had dealt with recently just melts away. Josh’s laughter rings out in the air around us, dancing through the trees. It’s a sound I could listen to forever, if he’d allow me to.

~

I can’t breathe. There’s a weight on my chest, crushing me. My limbs are heavy and I’m unable to move, no matter how hard I try. The only thing I can hear are distorted whispers; they repeat the same thing over and over again – You can’t hide. When I open my eyes, my vision is blurry, like I’m underwater. I’m drowning. The shadow that hovers above me is faceless, just a silhouette, like it always is. It doesn’t have a mouth, but I can feel its hot breath on my face, and it smells like sulfur. It makes these awful clicking noises that sort of remind me of some kind of nocturnal animal. I can never remember which one.

I’m afraid, of course I am. I’m always afraid. But this has become such a frequent occurrence that I’ve accepted the fear and accepted that I can do nothing but be suffocated by it. Occasionally, when I’m feeling adventurous (or perhaps it’s more likely I don’t think I’ve got anything to lose), I stare back at the entity in an attempt to learn what I can. But mostly I close my eyes and pray – no, not pray, never pray – to be free of the presence that threatens my place in this world.

I wonder what would happen if it ever succeeded. Would I simply be gone from this plane, no trace left of my pathetic existence? Or would it take over, using me for its own benefit, getting off on whatever horrible things it will make me do?

It visits me often, but this time something is different. I’m not alone. Another voice reaches my ears, one I don’t recognize immediately. I can’t understand what it’s saying but it’s enough to pull me back. The entity is brushed away as quickly as it appears, and I can finally draw in a deep breath. I can finally move; I sit up so quickly it makes me dizzy. I’m freezing and I’m not one hundred percent sure where I am. But I hear the voice again and everything starts to fall into place.

It isn’t the words themselves, because they make no sense. I can only make out bits and pieces, something about glitter in the carpet? But I understand what’s happening now. Josh is talking in his sleep, and it was enough to wake me from mine. He’s mumbling something about peanuts now. What could he possibly be dreaming about?

My eyes are starting to adjust to the deep darkness. We’re still at the cabin. In the woods. The realization makes my heart pound harder. My instincts are telling me to run, to get as far from this place as I can, but I know that isn’t the most logical way to handle this. It’s just my fight-or-flight kicking in, that’s all. Where would I even run to? Instead, I hug my knees to my chest and shut my eyes again; I need to calm down. I don’t want to wake him up.

I’m unsure how much time passes before my pulse settles to a normal rate, but it’s still dark when I open my eyes. Josh is still asleep. He’s on his side with his back to me, his small snores permeating the silence. I take another deep breath and lie down. I can’t resist the urge to wrap my arm around his waist and pull myself against his back. I place a gentle kiss on his bare, exposed shoulder. He makes a satisfied noise and pushes back into me, as if he could get closer, but he doesn’t wake up from his slumber.

I don’t sleep again tonight. I rarely ever do after a visit from the… demon? Spirit? Whatever it is. I know, realistically, that Josh is not in any danger. It won’t come for him; it won’t touch him. He’s not the one it wants. But I still feel as though I need to protect him from it. From me? I hold onto him for the rest of the night, making silent promises that he will be safe.

///

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[bethanydelleman]

Unconsciously Done: An Examination of Misogyny in the Treatment of Caroline Bingley in Jane Austen Fan Fiction

This essay is not meant as an attack on any specific author who writes JAFF. It is a criticism of a trend that is very strong in the genre and I find extremely problematic.

It is my firm belief that Jane Austen felt deeply for the plight of women in her era and that her books examine the difficult decisions that women were forced to make because of their secondary position in society. Jane Austen presents women to us who have little power and whose only hope in future provision and comfort lies in the whims of men. Moreover, Jane Austen never in her collected works, asks us to delight in the downfall or destruction of a woman. Given this context, I find it highly distressing and untrue to Jane Austen’s legacy that so often in Jane Austen Fan Fiction (JAFF), authors invite readers to celebrate the degradation of Caroline Bingley. This is a repugnant practice that both goes against the intent of Jane Austen’s works and by attacking a woman in particular is an unconscious display of misogyny.

After the Netherfield Ball, where the Bennet family shocks Elizabeth, Darcy, and Caroline with their vulgar behaviour, Caroline and Darcy agree that it would be better for Charles, Caroline’s brother, not to marry into such a family. Together, they go to London and convince Charles to remain there, away from Jane. Caroline writes to Jane to inform her of this. Later, when Jane follows them to London, Caroline cuts off the friendship, which lasted, we should remember, for only a few weeks. She also works to conceal Jane’s presence in London from her brother. She is aided in this endeavour, again, by Mr. Darcy. Her final act of the book is attempting to embarrass Elizabeth in company at Pemberley and then insulting Elizabeth to Darcy in private.

For the purposes of this argument, I will first lay out what the original Caroline Bingley does in the novel Pride & Prejudice. Caroline dislikes the unmannered inhabitants of Hertfordshire, specifically the Bennet family, a sentiment she shares with Darcy. They make fun of the Bennets behind their backs together in the first section of the book, along with Caroline’s sister Louisa. When Jane Bennet is sick at Netherfield, Caroline is not as attentive to her as Jane’s sister would like, despite spending several hours with her multiple times.

It is important to note several things. Firstly, none of Caroline’s actions cause lasting harm to anyone. In the end, Jane and Charles do marry. Secondly, Caroline is drawn by Jane Austen as a social-climber who is not above using artifice to reach her goals, but her actions are entirely rational within that context. Every action that Caroline makes is a logical expression of her two motivations, a wish to marry Darcy and a wish to see her brother marry well. Thirdly, Caroline is aided in nearly everything she does by Darcy himself. One could speculate that without Darcy’s interference, Charles would have returned to Hertfordshire as he planned. Darcy’s own words imply this, “with a stronger dependence on my judgement than on his own.” (P&P, Ch 35.)

The position of women in Georgian society is made clear through Jane Austen’s works. Women are dependent on their parents or guardians until they marry at which point they are dependent upon their husbands. There are only two acceptable options for women of the gentry, marriage or becoming a governess. When Charlotte Lucas submits to a marriage with Mr. Collins, we are told marriage was the only provision for well-educated young women of small fortune (P&P, Ch 22). Jane Fairfax, in Emma, is so upset with her the profession of governess, that she compares it to slavery (V 2, Ch. 18). Jane Austen is clearly of the opinion that a woman should marry for affection rather than only for wealth, but she acknowledges how difficult this line is to draw when marriage is so vital to a woman's life. Caroline is set up as a representation of a mercenary worldview in Pride & Prejudice. Like many other Jane Austen women, Mary Crawford (Mansfield Park, specifically her early interest in Tom Bertram), Lucy Steele (S&S), and Charlotte Lucas (P&P) for example, Caroline is pursuing a man for wealth rather than love.

Lydia Bennet is another woman whom Jane Austen, in the social morays of the time, could have condemned and invited us to hate. In Mr. Collins letter we hear the morality that would delight in a woman’s downfall, “The death of your daughter would have been a blessing in comparison of this.” (P&P Ch. 48). Yet again, the narrator does not invite us to treat Lydia with scorn. We are reminded of Mrs. and Mr. Bennet’s faulty parenting and that he ignored Elizabeth’s advice, we are reminded of the character of Wickham, and we are assured of Lydia’s future provision. Lydia will not fall into poverty because her two wealthy sisters will protect her. Her sisters do this despite the fact that they had the most to lose from her rash actions. This demonstrates an acknowledgement that all women, despite their faults, deserve to be protected.

It is important to note that while Jane Austen invites the reader to disapprove of these women who marry for money, she does not outright condemn them. Charlotte Lucas’s decision to marry Collins is explained with some compassion. The narrator notes that, “the boys were relieved from their apprehension of Charlotte’s dying an old maid” (P&P, Ch. 22) which again reminds us of the importance of marriage for a woman’s future provision. Maria Bertram (Mansfield Park), who married for money and then committed adultery for love and whose actions are clearly condemned, is still allowed compassion. The narrator mourns that Maria must suffer more than her male counterpart for the offence, "In this world the penalty is less equal than could be wished” (MP, Ch. 48) and Sir Thomas spends a good deal of time blaming himself for not raising his daughter properly, “here had been grievous mismanagement” (MP, Ch 48).

Unlikely as it is for Jane Austen to desire further punishment for Caroline, it is more improbable that she would wish for men to exact that retribution. We are told in the history of Eliza Brandon, (S&S) how much power a man can exert over a woman in their guardianship. Eliza is confined to the house and allowed no pleasures until she submits to a marriage to a man who will treat her with cruelty and steal her fortune. This action is despicable and is presented as such. Yet, many authors write Charles Bingley exerting this same sort of control over his sister, or at least threatening it. They wish for him to cut off her allowance and thus financially constrain her behaviour. They have Charles threaten to disown his sister, who in such stories is under his guardianship, or sometimes even give her money away. Not only is this unnecessary, as Charles already can control his sister’s behaviour to an extent as we see during the visit from Mrs. Bennet when he “forced his younger sister to be civil also” (P&P, Ch 9), it is cruel.

It is unlikely therefore, that Jane Austen meant for us to hate Caroline or take pleasure in her imagined downfall. In the original novel, the ‘punishment’ Caroline receives is equal to her actions, she must endure seeing Elizabeth Bennet raised to the position of mistress of Pemberley. It is the same thing that happens to Lady Catherine de Bourgh, who like Caroline, wants Darcy to marry for wealth rather than affection.

More distressing are the words used by characters in works of JAFF, mostly by men who in Jane Austen’s original works treat women with respect, about how Charles might control this “deviant” sister. These terms are often far harsher than anything used for the correction of Lydia Bennet, whom we know to actually be unmannered and wild. Proposals that Charles, “bring Caroline to heel” are repugnant. Caroline is a human woman, not a dog. However one imagines speech in the Georgian era, these are not words used by Jane Austen. Suggestions that Charles cast her out of the family home or be obliged to lock her up, when not said in jest, are terrifying. In this society, these things could happen and would be catastrophic to Caroline.

Even the mere suggestion that Charles should control his sister’s speech in in a start contrast our exaltation of Elizabeth’s lively manner. Jane Austen allows us to find Mr. Collins distasteful for suggesting that Elizabeth controls her tongue, “and your wit and vivacity, I think, must be acceptable to her, especially when tempered with the silence and respect which her rank will inevitably excite” (P&P Ch. 19). Yet, JAFF authors want Charles to do this to his own sister! Would it be in keeping with the morality of the creator of Elizabeth Bennet to have a man force a woman into silence? Jane Austen gave women voices and ideas in a time when that was counter-cultural, yet 21st century authors, most of them women, want to send Caroline back to the dark ages.

Some authors have this same abuse performed by a husband that Caroline unfortunately marries for money or through "compromise" (a common but likely ahistorical trope), only to find out he is cruel. There are stories that present this outcome as just instead of horrifying. Again, these are 21st century authors, relegating a 19th century woman to a cruel marriage in which she has few rights and little chance of honourable escape. Occasionally Caroline is married to Wickham, and instead of Elizabeth Bennet pitying the match, as she does for her sister Lydia, she often finds it funny or just. The idea that any woman deserves to be trapped in an abusive situation, or have her wealth stolen from her by a deceitful suitor, is again, repulsive.

The final degradation that Caroline faces is also the most troubling: authors repeatedly deprive Caroline of her rationality. Jane Austen’s Caroline is a rational creature, as are all the women that are depicted in her works. Good or bad, Jane Austen’s women are carefully rendered images of real life and they have motivations that guide their actions. Caroline’s two motives were discussed above and her actions are entirely rational based on her goals Even if we dislike Caroline’s reasoning and acts, we ought to respect her humanity. Unfortunately, many works on JAFF, in an effort to create a more villainous character, twist Caroline into an evil, insane, psychopathic version of herself, bent only on cruelty and hatred, without any clear goals.

As for authors who relegate Caroline to a life of perpetual dependence, Jane Austen herself only consigns a single woman to this fate, Miss Bates in Emma. Jane Austen treats Miss Bates with respect and kindness, creating a town around her that takes care of both her physical and emotional needs. Emma is admonished by Mr. Knightley for ridiculing Miss Bates before other members of the community. To Jane Austen, a woman in perpetual dependence should excite pity, not disgust or laughter. Miss Bates also is granted a voice and we, along with Emma, are encouraged to listen to her and respect her value as a person.

The reason that all of this is so disturbing and repugnant is because these words are written by modern authors, people who should understand how oppressive and wrong the subjugation of women was in the Georgian era. For those authors, many of them women, to attack a fellow woman with the very tools of the patriarchy that we have ourselves struggle to throw off and fight against is horrid. Jane Austen does not resort to these methods; Caroline Bingley is not bent under the power of her male guardians in Pride & Prejudice. The only woman who is, Eliza Brandon, is an example we are supposed to pity, not scorn.

Worse, Mr. Darcy himself is an active participant in almost every bad action of Caroline. Yet, while Darcy is forgiven completely, and often given excuses like shyness for his actions, Caroline is again and again vilified. It is a double standard of the worst kind and one that especially female authors should recognize as unfair and unjust. Yes, we do not see Caroline’s apology or reformation in Pride & Prejudice, but she is also not a main character. Many JAFF works almost seem to forget Darcy’s interference or rudeness towards Jane and the rest of the Bennet family. He is excused and Caroline is hated and destroyed.

Instead of a human with rational motives, JAFF authors imagine Caroline as a demon. Caroline becomes a playhouse mirror imagine of Elizabeth, who is often turned into a “Mary-Sue” or a picture of perfection. This Carrie-Sue (credit to Amelia Marie Logan, who coined the term) acts in a way that Caroline of Pride & Prejudice never would. Carrie-Sue attacks and insults people in public without motive, including her own brother; she continues to pursue Darcy after he is married; she continually attempts to “compromise” him; and she will do anything no matter the cost. She is a grotesque in the worst sense of the word and she is not of Jane Austen.

If there is one overall thesis of Jane Austen’s works, it is that women are rational creatures. Elizabeth Bennet and Sophia Croft (Persuasion) actually use that term explicitly, but every heroine in Jane Austen demonstrates this same theme. We see inside their heads and we understand their humanity. Even the women we are meant to despise display rationality. Fanny Dashwood of Sense & Sensibility for example, talks her husband out of giving money to his sisters because she is greedy. Lucy Steele lashes out against Elinor Dashwood because she is fearful of losing her one chance at financial security: Edward Ferrars. Mrs. Norris (Mansfield Park), probably the cruellest woman in Jane Austen’s works, abuses her niece because she cannot bear her own inferiority to the Bertram family. She relieves her own feelings of dependence by pushing her niece further below herself. All of the actions of these women are despicable, but they also follow cogent motivations.

This is especially problematic because it is almost always Caroline who faces this treatment. Wickham, a character who actually deserves the term “villain”, is allowed rational motives, most often lust, revenge, and greed. He is allowed to retain his humanity and his mind; it is a woman who is deprived of hers. As I have stated, I believe this is done without malice on the part of the authors, but I would ask them to reflect on every instance, for I know there have been many i their own lives, where another person has deprived them of their humanity based on their gender. It is a pervasive problem that persists in our modern society and we ought not perpetuate it in our works of fiction.

To conclude, Jane Austen does not delight in the destruction, humiliation, or subjugation of women. If we wish as JAFF authors, and as women, to honour Jane Austen’s legacy, then we should refrain from doing those very things and from depriving a woman of her rational mind. The treatment of Caroline Bingley in JAFF is a form of misogyny and as such it should be stopped. This is important because while Caroline Bingley is of course fictional, the representation of women in fiction can perpetuate stereotypes and prejudices in real life. Jane Austen wanted to tell the world, through her fiction, that women are humans worth listening to and worth respecting. Let us leave Carrie-Sue behind and allow Caroline Bingley to finally live in peace.

[darlingpoppet]

WIP Wednesday — WTDF Ch 7 Excerpt #2

Whenever I participate in WIP Wednesday it’s usually already Thursday in my timezone so I hope you’ll allow me to post during my Wednesday right at midnight, haha.

Where The Dead Forget chapter 7 is coming along nicely and as I get closer I still seem to be on track for a roughly end-of-February-beginning-of-March publication. I said in the last check-in that the chapter is mostly Patroclus-pov so today I offer a sample of what he is getting up to! This scene also offers a big hint as to which Iliad characters are making their cameo appearance in this story. That scene is in the home stretch now and it is LONG but I’m pleased so far by how it’s turning out :)

Sorry that this excerpt plops us right in the middle of a scene but if I may offer a bit of context: Patroclus has been speaking to a group of drunken shades who are passing around a bottle of ambrosia between them while they sloppily recount a very contradictory and off-color version of a Certain Achilles-related myth, until this happens:

“That is no way to speak when an honored guest is present, now is it?” A voice says.

Patroclus turns toward its source, and sees a shade approaching them. The man reaches out to wrap a friendly yet protective arm around Patroclus’ shoulder. He makes a small show of shaking his head in disapproval, tisking loudly.

“I swear, the manner of this realm grows more barbaric with each passing age. It is as if everyone here has forgotten how to uphold the sacred customs of hospitality, or even basic manners.” He faces Patroclus, addressing him directly: “These shades have been acting quite rude to you, haven’t they? Not once did they even offer you some of their drink.”

“Hey, now see here,” one of the shades growls. “This bottle was hard-won, I’ll have you know. We earned it in the arena fair and square, and we shouldn’t be expected to give it away to any random shade who comes wandering up to us. If he wants it so bad, he can go get some himself!”

The shade shakes his head ruefully.

“You see what I mean? No sense of brotherhood or principles among this lot, whatsoever. I’m guessing they didn’t even invite you to sit down.”

“No,” Patroclus says. If he were being honest, he doesn’t much care for this one swooping in with his sudden and unprompted gallantry. But it is easier for Patroclus to answer truthfully, and his growing irritation with the group gives him no incentive to make any effort to defend them.

“If you’re so keen to show this fellow a good time, why don’t you take him back to your place yourself,” another shade slurs out with a roguish grin. “He seems to be asking around for the best hero to fuck.”

“As if you weren’t the one who was just speaking of his fondness for men’s holes.”

The ribald banter has the group swooning with drunken laughter once again.

“Oh, all of you are incorrigible! Vulgar barbarians,” the shade huffs, speaking to Patroclus over the noise with an almost exaggerated, dignified haughtiness. “Come, my friend, we do not have to listen to this filth any longer. I shall take you to where we are able speak in peace, if you are willing. You wish to know about someone in particular, do you not?”

“Er… yes,” Patroclus answers, his eyes darting to the now distracted shades, still in the throes of laughter, before flickering back to this other shade, who by now he has identified as someone familiar to him, though his mind still searches as to exactly how. “All right.”

The shade smiles pleasantly at the acceptance of his offer. His teeth flash brightly against the the deep color of his sun-browned skin—he has a snaggletoothed canine on one side of his mouth which gives his grin a youthful charm, in spite of the stately handsomeness of his face.

The shade leads Patroclus to a secluded clearing not too far away. It is not unlike Patroclus’ own glade, hidden behind vines and easily passed over by anyone who does not have a mind to look for it. The shade pulls aside a lush curtain of hanging leaves to unlatch the gate, inviting Patroclus to enter ahead of him. Patroclus, acting cautious, does not move right away—instead looking to the shade with an unwavering gaze, giving him his full attention.

“Thank you, son of Hippolochus,” he says pointedly. The shade grins.

“You remember me then,” he says. “I am glad. Go on, son of Menoitius. And please do not worry. We offer our hearth to you in friendship.”