#yes this is aimed at my scream series
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I just realized here on tumblr people only wanna read smut and suggestive content while there are so many better fics but are flopping cause they dont have a sex scene
#yes this is aimed at my scream series#FUCK YALL#asraxfile#youre not a writer if you cant write any other genre than smut#thats disgusting#gidle#asra rambles ^^
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Hello! Could you write all the origin companions reaction to a tav who sacrificed themselves to save them? Whether or not tav gets revivified is up to you. Thank you! I hope you enjoyed your break!
yes yes yes, so this is going to be quite similar to the silly sacrifice one but I tried to focus more on the revivfy section kind of
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Karlach:
The battle had reached its peak, the air thick with the scent of blood and the clashing of steel. You and Karlach fought side by side, her infernal rage blazing like a beacon of hope amidst the chaos. But then, in a split second, you saw the demon's sword arching towards her, aiming for a fatal blow. Without a second thought, you threw yourself in its path, the blade biting deep into your flesh.
The world seemed to slow as you fell to the ground, your vision darkening. Karlach’s roar of anguish cut through the din of battle. She fought with a renewed ferocity, dispatching the demon with a series of powerful blows, her eyes never leaving your fallen form.
“No, no, no!” she cried, dropping to her knees beside you, her hands shaking as she held your lifeless body. Tears streamed down her face, her fiery aura flickering as despair threatened to consume her. “You can't leave me like this! You can't!”
Desperation gave her strength as she pulled out a revivify scroll from her pack. Her hands were unsteady, but her resolve was ironclad. She chanted the incantation, pouring all her will into bringing you back. For a moment, nothing happened, and her heart nearly shattered.
Then, your chest heaved with a ragged breath, and your eyes fluttered open. Karlach's tears flowed even harder, but now they were tears of relief and joy. She cradled your face in her hands, her touch gentle despite her overwhelming strength.
“You scared me so much,” she sobbed, pressing her forehead against yours. “I thought I’d lost you for good. Don’t you ever do that again, you hear me?”
You managed a weak smile, lifting a hand to brush away her tears. “I’m sorry, Karlach. I couldn’t let anything happen to you.”
She held you close, her body shaking with the force of her emotions. “I love you so much,” she whispered fiercely. “And I need you with me. Always.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Minthara:
The night was filled with the sounds of battle, the clash of swords and the screams of the dying. You and Minthara moved as one, a deadly dance of blades and magic. But then, you saw it—the assassin, poised to strike Minthara from the shadows. Instinct took over, and you flung yourself in front of her, the blade intended for her plunging into your chest instead.
Minthara's eyes widened in shock and rage as you collapsed to the ground. She dispatched the assassin with ruthless efficiency, her movements swift and lethal. But as she knelt beside you, her expression shifted to one of desperate fear.
“No, you fool,” she hissed, her hands trembling as she reached for you, only to find your lifeless body. “Why did you do that?”
Minthara’s eyes flashed with anger and sorrow. She pulled out a revivify scroll, her voice steady but urgent as she recited the spell. The magic flowed from her fingertips, enveloping your body in a soft glow.
For a moment, everything was silent. Then, your chest rose with a shuddering breath, and your eyes opened. Minthara’s relief was palpable, but she quickly masked it with her usual stern expression.
“You think death can take you from me so easily?” she asked, her voice laced with mockery to hide the desperation she felt. “You’re mine, and only I decide when you go.”
"Wouldn't dream of it" You smiled weakly, the warmth of life returning to your limbs. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Minthara's stern facade cracked slightly, and she leaned down to press a fierce kiss to your lips. “Good,” she murmured against your mouth, her voice softening for a brief moment. “Because I need you by my side. Always.”
She pulled back, her eyes burning with a fierce possessiveness. “Do not ever think you can leave me so easily. Death itself will bend to my will if it means keeping you with me.”
You chuckled softly, wincing at the pain but finding comfort in her words. “I know my love,”
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Lae'zel:
The battlefield was a chaotic swirl of violence, the clang of steel and the cries of the wounded filling the air. You and Lae'zel fought side by side, a formidable team. But in a split second, you saw an enemy warrior, poised to strike her from behind. Without hesitation, you lunged forward, taking the blow meant for her. The pain was excruciating, but you gritted your teeth, determined to protect her. As the world around you faded to black, the last thing you saw was Lae'zel's horrified expression.
When you opened your eyes, you were met with Lae'zel's fierce gaze, her hands pressed against your chest where the wound had been. The magic of the revivify scroll was still fading from her fingertips. Relief flickered in her eyes before it was quickly replaced with anger.
"Fool!" she snapped, pulling you up to a sitting position. "You call that battle technique? Throwing yourself in front of a blade like a reckless child?"
You couldn't help but chuckle, despite the pain still lingering in your body. "Nice to see you too, Lae'zel."
Her glare intensified, but you could see the worry in her eyes. "Do not mock me. Your survival is not a joke. You are to be better, to fight smarter. I will not lose you to your own stupidity."
"Yes, ma'am," you said, a smile tugging at your lips. "I'll try to remember that next time."
She sighed, her expression softening ever so slightly. "See that you do. I need you alive and by my side, not dead on the ground." She reached out, brushing a lock of hair from your forehead with surprising tenderness. "Promise me you will fight smarter."
You took her hand in yours, squeezing it gently. "I promise, Lae'zel."
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Shadowheart:
The battle raged around you, guts and gore everywhere, but your focus was solely on Shadowheart. She was cornered, surrounded by enemies, and in that moment, you knew what you had to do. You threw yourself in front of her, taking a vicious blow that would have ended her life. The pain was immense, but you didn't regret it for a second. As your vision blurred and darkness closed in, you heard her scream your name.
When you awoke, the first thing you felt were her tears on your face. Shadowheart was leaning over you, her hands glowing with the last remnants of a revivify spell. Her eyes were red, tears streaming down her cheeks as she looked at you with a mix of relief and frustration.
"You idiot," she choked out, her voice trembling. "Why did you do that? Why would you sacrifice yourself for me?"
You tried to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace. "Because I love you, Shadowheart. I couldn't let you die."
She sobbed, her tears falling onto your face. "You reckless fool. You can't just… just die like that. I can't lose you." She tried to scold you, but her voice broke, and she buried her face in your chest, her body shaking with sobs.
You reached up, gently stroking her hair. "I'm sorry, Shadowheart. I didn't mean to make you cry."
She lifted her head, her tear-filled eyes meeting yours. "Don't you ever do that again," she said, her voice filled with a mixture of anger and desperation. "You hear me? I can't… I can't go through that again."
"I promise. I'll be more careful." You nodded, pulling her close and holding her tightly. She clung to you, her sobs gradually subsiding as she calmed down.
"I'm just so glad you're alive," she whispered, her voice still trembling. "I can't bear the thought of losing you."
"I'm here," you said softly, kissing the top of her head. "And I'm not going anywhere."
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Jaheira:
The clashing of swords and the shouts of warriors filling the air. You and Jaheira fought side by side, her presence a comforting and motivating force. But then, you saw it—a blade aimed straight at her back. Without thinking, you threw yourself in its path, taking the blow meant for her. The pain was sharp and overwhelming, and you fell to the ground, the world fading to black.
When you opened your eyes, Jaheira was kneeling over you, her hands glowing with the light of a revivify spell. Her expression was calm, though you could see the concern in her eyes. She finished the spell, and the pain began to ebb away as life returned to your body.
"There you are," she said, her tone brisk but affectionate. She pulled you to your feet with surprising strength, and before you could fully process what was happening, she leaned in and pressed a firm, warm kiss to your lips.
"You'll need to be quicker next time, you would have easily been able to deflect that blade," she said, a hint of a smile playing at her lips. "But thank you."
You managed a weak smile, still a bit dazed and in awe of how calm she was. "Anything for you, Jaheira."
"Good," she replied, giving you a pat on the back. "Now, back to the fight. We have work to do."
With that, she turned and rejoined the fray, leaving you with a sense of awe and gratitude. She had seen death and resurrection enough times to take it in stride, but her kiss had been full of warmth and reassurance, a silent promise that she would always be there to pull you back from the brink.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Gale:
The air crackled with magical energy as the battle raged on. You saw Gale, his focus entirely on casting a powerful spell, unaware of the enemy creeping up behind him. Without hesitation, you darted forward, taking the lethal blow meant for him. The pain was excruciating, and darkness quickly consumed your vision.
When you awoke, you felt the tingling aftermath of a powerful spell. Gale stood over you, his hands still glowing with the energy of the revivify spell he had just cast. His face was a mix of relief and exasperation.
"Really? It was that easy" he said to himself, shaking his head in disbelief. "This was disturbingly easy by comparison, you could just ressurect any odd fool.."
Gale continued to ramble to himself until you blinked back to conciousness and managed a weak chuckle, your body still aching. "See? And the things I have to do for you, purple string and all that."
His expression softened as he realized you were awake he was about to retort when he realised why you were bother there in the first place.
"You shouldn't have done that," he scolded, though his tone was gentle. "Sacrificing yourself like that was reckless."
"I had to," you replied, your voice hoarse. "If you died, the Netherese orb would have gone off and killed us all. Someone had to protect you."
Gale sighed, his frustration melting into acceptance. "You have a fair point," he admitted. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it." He helped you to your feet, his grip steady and reassuring. "Just… try not to die again, alright?"
"I'll do my best," you said, smiling up at him. Gale's eyes softened, and he pulled you into a gentle embrace.
"Good. Because I don't want to go through that again." He held you close for a moment before stepping back, his hand lingering on your shoulder. He knew you had reason on your side, and it killed him but for now he would keep some revivfy scrolls to himself, just for you.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Astarion:
The battlefield was a chaotic blur, the clash of steel and the cries of the wounded filling the air. You saw Astarion, his back turned as he fought off an enemy, completely unaware of the assassin creeping up behind him. Without hesitation, you launched yourself in front of him, taking the lethal blow. The pain was searing, and darkness quickly overtook you.
When you came to, the first thing you saw was Astarion's face, his expression a mix of shock and relief. He had just finished casting a revivify spell, the magic still shimmering around his fingers.
"You idiot!" he exclaimed, his voice a mixture of anger and worry. "What were you thinking, throwing yourself in front of a blade like that?"
"I had to protect you," you managed to say, your voice weak. You groaned, the pain from the wound still lingering.
Astarion's eyes softened for a moment, but then his usual dramatic flair took over. He placed a hand on his chest, striking a theatrical pose.
"I suppose I should thank you for your valiant sacrifice," he said, his tone dripping with mock grandeur. "After all, you did save my life, and now you owe yours to me. Consider me your god, darling."
You couldn't help but chuckle, despite the pain. "Oh, great. Now I'll never hear the end of it."
Astarion leaned down, pressing a surprisingly tender kiss to your forehead. "Don't think this means you can make a habit of dying on me," he murmured, his voice softer now. "I quite like having you around."
"I'll do my best," you replied, smiling up at him. "But maybe next time, try to keep an eye on your surroundings? You supposed omniscient god."
He smirked, helping you to your feet. "Deal. Now, let's finish this fight so I can properly express my gratitude later."
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Wyll:
The battle was fierce, and in the midst of the chaos, you saw Wyll, his focus entirely on fending off multiple attackers. Suddenly, an enemy appeared from the shadows, aiming a deadly blow at him. Without thinking, you threw yourself in front of him, taking the hit. The pain was overwhelming, and darkness quickly enveloped you.
When you woke, you felt a familiar warmth and the tingling of healing magic. Wyll's face hovered above you, his expression a mixture of relief and overwhelming joy. He had just cast a revivify spell, bringing you back from the brink of death.
"Thank the gods," Wyll whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "I thought I'd lost you."
You smiled weakly, your body still aching. "Couldn't let that happen," you replied softly. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, thanks to you," he said, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "But don't you ever scare me like that again."
Before you could respond, Wyll pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you as if he would never let go. He peppered your face with kisses, his relief and love evident in every touch. "I'm so glad you're alive," he murmured between kisses. "I don't know what I would have done without you."
You rested your head against his shoulder, feeling his warmth and the steady beat of his heart.
"I had to protect you," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I couldn't bear to lose you either."
Wyll pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression serious. "We're in this together, remember? Next time, we'll protect each other."
"I promise," you agreed, a smile tugging at your lips. "But you better be ready for a lot of hugging if you ever scare me like that again."
He chuckled, his eyes crinkling with genuine happiness. "I'll take that over losing you any day," he said, giving you one more firm kiss before helping you to your feet.
With Wyll's arm around you, providing support and comfort, you both turned to face the rest of the battle, ready to continue fighting side by side.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Halsin:
The battlefield was a frenzy of chaos and bloodshed. Amidst the turmoil, you saw Halsin, his powerful form surrounded by enemies, but his focus on the frontline left him vulnerable. An enemy archer, hidden in the shadows, took aim at him. Without a second thought, you dashed forward, throwing yourself in front of him just as the arrow was released. The searing pain hit you, and darkness quickly swallowed your vision.
When you came to, you were lying on the ground, Halsin's face hovering over yours, his expression one of frantic concern. His hands were glowing with healing magic, and you felt the warmth and energy seeping into your body, bringing you back from the brink of death.
"Don't you dare leave me," Halsin murmured, his voice a mixture of command and desperation. His eyes were intense, filled with worry and relief as he saw you stir.
"Halsin…" you managed to whisper, your voice weak. "You're okay?"
He let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "Thanks to you," he replied, his tone softening. But then his expression shifted to one of fierce protectiveness. "But that was incredibly reckless. I can't lose you."
Before you could protest or even fully process what was happening, Halsin scooped you up into his strong arms, lifting you effortlessly from the ground. The battle still raged around you, but his focus was solely on getting you to safety.
"Halsin, put me down," you said, trying to sound firm despite your weakened state. "I can still fight."
"No," he replied, his voice unyielding. "You've done more than enough. Your place now is to recover."
You tried to wriggle free, but his grip was ironclad, and his pace didn't falter as he carried you away from the chaos. "Halsin, listen to me. We need every hand we can get out there. I can't just—"
"Enough," he interrupted, his tone brooking no argument. "I cannot bear to see you hurt again. Let me protect you this time."
The sheer determination in his voice, coupled with the tenderness in his eyes, made your protest die in your throat. You sighed, resting your head against his chest, feeling the steady, reassuring beat of his heart.
"Fine," you conceded, wrapping your arms around his neck. "But once this is over, we need to talk about your definition of 'teamwork.'"
A small, relieved smile tugged at his lips. "Fine," he said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "But for now, just rest. Leave me to taking the hits for now."
As he carried you to a secure spot, away from the battle, you couldn't help but feel a mix of frustration and gratitude. You were a fighter, but having someone like Halsin care so deeply for you, willing to protect you at all costs, was a comfort you hadn't expected. And as he set you down gently and continued to shield you with his presence, you realized that sometimes, letting someone else take the lead wasn't always a sign of weakness.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Hope you all enjoyed it !
#bg3#baldurs gate 3#bg3 tav#baldurs gate tav#baldurs gate iii#astarion#astarion baldurs gate#baldurs gate astarion#bg3 astarion#astarion bg3#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#bg3 gale#gale dekarios#gale dekarios x tav#gale dekarios x reader#halsin x reader#bg3 halsin#halsin#halsin x tav#wyll x reader#jaheira bg3#shadowheart x tav#shadowheart x reader#bg3 lae'zel#karlach x tav#karlach bg3#baldurs gate karlach#karlach#karlach x reader
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WHB Series #1 (cont.)
Paimon and Leraye: *laughing*
MC: ...
MC: What? *speared two marshmallow angels and cooked them like a barbeque*
Satan: ...
Satan: You're evil.
MC: Shut the fuck up. This is an experiment.
Leamas: *looks at them judgingly*
Leraye: Did you at least de-gut it first?
MC: What do you think?
Paimon: You should test it for poisonnn~.
MC: I'll spit it out if it tastes bad. *bites on the marshmallow angel*
The devils of Gehenna: ...
Satan: So... How does it taste?
MC: *shrugs their shoulder* Tastes like chicken.
MC: ...
MC: I'm going to hunt for more.
Leamas: You are unbelievable...
Leamas: We're getting close to His Majesty Mammon's location.
MC: Good. *snacking on the marshmallow angels and those ugly, muscle-head angels they caught*
Leamas: ...
Leamas: This is making me uncomfortable.
MC: Hey, Leamas.
Leamas: Yes?
MC: Is that Nina?
Nina: *standing a few meters away from them; staring at them blankly*
Leamas: Nina! *runs to her*
MC: ...
Nina: What are you doing here, Samael?
Leamas: Nina, I've been looking for you.
Nina: You need to leave and the descendant of Solomon immediately.
Nina: This is not a safe place.
Leamas: What do you mean by that, Nina?
*The loud screams of demons at a distance*
Nina: This is not a safe place, Samael!
Leamas: They're doing it again...
Leamas: *turns his head at MC*
Leamas: Descendant of Solomon!
MC: *runs to where the screaming demons are*
MC: Call backup!
Leamas: Yes! Let's go, Nina!
Nina: How about them?!
Leamas: *smiles*
Leamas: They'll be fine.
MC: *has arrived at the place, but hides behind a building to assess the situation*
Michael and Gabriel: *are in the sky, together with six angels*
MC: Ah, yes. The two shining bastards.
MC: *loads their gun*
Michael: You're here, descendant of Solomon.
MC: Great.
Michael: Reveal yourself now, or we will destroy this whole place with you in it.
MC: Reveal yourself now or we will destroy this whole place nanana.
MC: Fuck you. You just want to make your job easier.
Michael and Gabriel: ...
Gabriel: How stubborn and irritating.
Michael: This is unfortunate.
MC: ...
MC: *aims their gun at one of the angels surrounding them then fires*
The angel: Ugh! *then falls from the sky*
The other angels: THEY'RE BEHIND THAT BUILDING! GET THEM!
Michael: What a fool.
Sitri: Solomon went there on their own?!
Satan: *laughs* They must be confident because that's where Mammon is!
Leraye: I heard a gunshot! It must be them!
MC: *defends themselves from angelic attacks while they're getting closer to Mammon's location*
MC: Looks like those marshmallow angels actually have some perks! *has noticed that they've become more agile*
*then a scythe appears on their way*
MC: !!!
Gabriel: Why did you avoid it?
MC: Huh?!
Gabriel: Stop wasting my time and die.
MC: *points their gun at him*
Gabriel: Useless.
MC: Oh? But you'll still get hurt with this! *shoots him*
Gabriel: *gets shot in the chest*
Gabriel: I told you, it's useless-
Gabriel: *felt a sudden dizziness*
Michael: Gabriel, what's going on with you?
Gabriel: There's something... in the bullet. *falls*
Michael: ...
Michael: *looks at MC*
Michael: What did you do to him?
MC: I just gave him the taste of his own medicine.
Michael: *squints his eyes*
MC: Sorry, can't tell you. But if you're interested, *points their gun at him*
Michael: ...
Michael: *glances at Gabriel* *gets down to pick him up*
MC: *still on guard*
Michael: I see you're not stupid at all.
MC: Of course. They won't call me the descendant of Solomon for nothing.
Michael: ...
Michael: *retreats with Gabriel in his arms and the other angels*
MC: ...
MC: *sigh*
Satan and the others: *arriving*
MC: *shoots them a death glare*
Satan: Sorry, we had a traffic.
MC: Never mind. *slumps themselves on the ground*
Leamas: Descendant of Solomon! *runs towards them*
Sitri: ...
Sitri: What was in the bullet?
Satan: We can ask them questions later.
Satan: For now, we should go visit Belial and Mammon.
#what in hell is bad#whb mc#whb leamas#whb nina#whb michael#whb gabriel#whb satan#whb sitri#whb paimon#whb leraye#whb series 1
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The Bolter (part one)
Steve Rogers x f!Reader
synopsis : Steve carries out his decision to return to Peggy, aiming to live out the rest of his days with her. But this means he's leaving everything behind - he's leaving you. Did he make the right choice? Will there be anything left with you to come back to?
in this chapter : Steve is about to walk out of your life, causing you to let go of everything you two have, and everything that could be.
📝 yes, the title is inspired by Taylor Swift's upcoming song The Bolter. In my interpretation and in this story, it is meant to symbolize someone who runs from someone or something. A potential relationship. A loved one. And the choice is not easy, one that may bring a lot of remorse or catharsis? Anyhow - Steve IS a bolter. In the beginning, at least.
themes/warnings : language, angst!!!, pining, unrequited love, Steve is kind of an asshole for leaving (but we love him anyway)
word count : < 1k
main masterlist ▪︎ series masterlist ▪︎ next chapter
This is it.
This must be what true heartbreak feels like.
Steve, your best friend and the unrequited love of your life, has decided to volunteer to return the Infinity Stones to their respective timelines. Very noble of him.
But he also confessed that he plans to stay with Peggy, now that he finally has the chance.
They can have the dance that was stolen from them, decades ago.
Steve can be with his true love it seems. And that person is just not you.
Well, fuck my life.
"Doll," he smiles ruefully, both of your hands encased in his, "say something."
Say something, he says. What is there to say - I'm in love with you, I want you to stay with me? Don't leave me? I want you stay - for Bucky, for Sam, for Nat. For everyone. For me?
What can you fucking say that will ever be enough? In the 7 years that you've known Steve, you've grown to love him. As a friend, as family. Then, almost inevitably, as the only keeper of your heart. And he knows this.
But he's still leaving. Because, at the end of the day, Peggy is the keeper of his heart.
To you, Steve has always been everything good. Golden boy perfection, with a heart that would put a saint's to shame. Sunshine, laughter, companionship, standing tall and unwavering in his ideals. His gleaming red, white, and blue tendrils snaking their way into the very fibres of your being and taking root.
But now, all you feel is empty. You were angry, when he first told you, days ago. You had almost screamed at him, told him how unfair he was being. You made a long, drawn-out case for Bucky. How he doesn't deserve this. But really, you were making a case for yourself.
Stay, you had said.
He simply smiled, without any mirth. Not like his usual on-brand Steve Rogers gesture of sincerity. He smiled and it did not reach his eyes. He was sad, or maybe he pitied you. And that made you even angrier.
Until minutes later, when you finally broke down, and sobbed quietly in his arms.
"I hate you," you muttered against the creases of his shirt.
"I love you," he said back, and you hated him even more for it. He doesn't get to say that to you, in that way. Not in the same way he would say to Peggy.
Now, right before stepping onto the platform that will cause him to vanish from your life, he says it again.
"You do know that I love you, right?" His smile is genuine, if not a little nervous. He hoped you would be as accepting as Bucky, and send him off with just a rueful look. A gentle, final word. A sweet farewell that he can take with him as a reminder of all the times you spent together.
"I know," you breathe, relenting. Steve does not like that your eyes are glazed over, empty. Like you're not taking him in at all. You take notice of the resulting sag in his shoulders, out of character from the dignified stride he sported as he was saying goodbye to the others.
A big part of you wants to remain indignant. So what if he's hurt or uncomfortable due to your coldness? It serves him right.
"Come here," he whispers, and it comes across a silent plea. Come here? Will you, please?
You take just one small step closer, but he is already ahead, wrapping his arms around your frame. Your stony mask breaks as your cheek presses against his chest, away from his view. His chest plate glistens from your tears, but you don't have it in you to wipe them away.
When he pulls away to look down at you, his heart breaks. He cradles your face in his hands as you look up at him through wet eyelashes, and it's almost enough to make him consider staying.
But then you say, "It will all be okay, Steve." You gingerly pry his hands from your cheeks, giving them a comforting squeeze. "We will be okay."
You look behind you, where Bucky stands watching the exchange, and he offers an encouraging nod.
You take a step back, mustering everything that you possibly can, all the love you have for Steve, to give him one last genuine smile.
"Go get your girl."
Read part two here.
The way I was making myself upset while writing this - god I love angst!!! ~~~
I was gonna keep going, make it even more brutal, but I'll save that for the upcoming parts. It will have some Bucky x reader as well 🖤
God Bless America('s ass).
oh, and let me know if you wish to be tagged!
#steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers fanfiction#chris evans#the avengers#mcu#bucky barnes#the bolter
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|| My Kind of Crazy ||
Harley Quinn X Male Reader
So after Binge Watching Barbie, rewatching Suicide Squad, Birds of Prey (and the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn), don’t forget that part, and The Suicide Squad, my appreciation For Morgot Robbie has increased more than it already has. Adore her. So, here’s part one of ?
(Any Tags I forgot please let me know.)
The Stench of rotting carpet, old wood and the tinge of blood was in the air. But this was all a part of the plan. Inside that old decrepit apartment you had your pistol Aimed at a man standing before you, Batman. Yes, The, Batman. A series of choices lead to this moment, but it wasn’t always like this. You were his Robin, his Boy wonder. Now you’re the shadow hiding within Gotham. Your foot was placed on the chest of another man, who’s cold and chilling laugher echoes though the room, Joker. It was on this same day, that you were Abducted; tortured, and subsequently Killed by the Very man. A Trip in the Lazuras pit changed you for the worst. But to your surprise after your revival, Joker was still alive, and Batman hadn’t sunk revenge for your murder, and all you could ask was…
“Why?” You as under your Helmet.. “Why him?” You said, Batman was stoic, silent.
“Who are you..?” He grumbles, his voice modulated to avoid detection, “You don’t know? I’m hurt.” You say with much sarcasm, you grip your helmet and tear it off, showing your face to Batman, even with the small J scar under your eye, it’s obvious who you were. Out of all the people he thought, he never expected his old Sidekick..
To be under the Red Hood.
Jokers eyes lock with the scar and he laughs much harder.
“Wow, now THAT, is funny!” He has his grilled toothy grin, and you placed your foot higher right on his throat. The wheezing laughter continues slowly.
“You don’t get to talk.” You growl at him, and then turnt your attention back to Batman.
“You know, I forgive you for not saving me, you can’t save everyone. But why, why is HE still alive?!” You scream, the rage and trauma building up in you finally. “After everything he’s done, he’s crippled, broken, murdered people! Why, why is he still here?!”
“You don’t understand… you never understood.” He said to you, and you scoff.
“What? That you can’t do it? That you don’t have the spine to! It’s too hard isn’t it?” You ask, Bruce shakes his head.
“No, I know it’s easy, he deserves to die a thousand times over, but if I killed him, i wouldn’t stop myself… I’d justify it, then I’d justify killing someone else, and it’ll keep going.. and I’ll sink further, and further into the dark.” Bruce said, you shook your head.
“You can’t control yourself… I’m not talking about Dent, or Penguin, Even Harley!” You toss the gun, Bruce instinctively catches it but, obviously isn’t capable of holding a gun.
“Do it, shoot him. Kill one, and save millions of lives… you’re the Batman right! You save people, don’t you? So save them! And kill him!” You demand, Bruce stares at you, both of you unwavering in your convictions. But he simply dropped the gun.
“No… I’m sorry, (Y/n).” He said in a solemn whisper.
“Fine!” You yell, revealing one last trick up your sleeve. an explosive set in the entire apartment block, revealing the dead man’s switch in your other hand. Joker laughs as he looks around it all beeping. He turns to Batman, and just smiles
“You, you found a way to win! But to lose everything! AHAHAHAHAHA—“ he laughs, reveling in the chaos as you let go of the switch, Batman made a choice, and now all three of you had to live with it, and in a flash, an explosion, it all faded to black for you.
You’ve been playing that in your mind for the past year you’ve been in Belle Reeve. Sitting in your orange room, captive. The 4x4 room kept you isolated, only for a bang at the door.
“Inmate. You’ve got a visitor! Stand up, face the wall.” He yells, you weren’t keen to listen to others. You stood up, facing the door, cracking your neck.
“Any of your men step in, I’m sending ten of them to the ICU.” You said, very calmly, the door opens and they rush in, training with the Batman made fighting multiple enemies a breeze, punches, kicks and knees flew all though the room as you delivered counters, combos and ruthless tactics. But all fun even came at an end as you were apprehended and locked into a chair. Struggling like a dog you strained to get out, you were wheels around Belle Reeve as you see eleven stretchers head to your cell.
“Told you..” you mutter, struggling in the binds. Being wheeled into an interrogation room, you kept your lips purse until you saw your visitor, she wore a women’s suit and skirt, her eyes deep brown like mud drowning you in muck. Amanda Waller. You looked around and saw that the room was being monitored by a single camera. She gave one officer the nod and he presses a button, the red light on the camera fades off.
“You’re not as scary as I expected.” She said, holding a file she sat down across from you. You knew about Waller, working with the Batman gave you some intel on contacts. And she was the nastiest one of all.
“Waller?” You ask.
“In the flesh.” She responded and opened your file, reading it off.
“(Y/n) Todd, Father was a factory worker, died due to Gang related activity. Mother was an addict, died years ago, leaving you alone, but you see.. that’s where it ends, as if you faded off the planet of the earth. Until you resurface a year later.” She said, all of that was true.
“What’s your point?” You ask. And she reads off another page.
“Peak Physical fitness, durability, speed, Agility, Strenght. Master Of Arms and a Genius level intellect… you are a dangerous and powerful individual, so I’m offering you a chance to cut your sentence down..” she offers
“You’re bluffing..” you struggle in the binds more, but Waller keeps her dead stare.
“Do I look like I’m bluffing?” She said, you stop and she looks you in the eye. “you complete your task, you get years off your sentence, you fail.. you die. Fairly simple.” She said, a million thoughts raced though your mind, but one did.
“Get out, Find Joker.. Kill, Joker.”
“…Im in.” You said, Waller takes her file and closes it. “Good, get his bomb in and relay with the others.” She says, your attitude shifts pretty quickly, “bomb?” You ask, “What do you mean bomb?!” You yell, but nobody said anything, being wheeled away you were held down by officers and a needle injected right into the base of your skull. Granted it wasn’t the worse thing that’s been done to you, still hurt. Finally reaching the breaking point you were wheeled outside, the sun finally hitting your skin and you found yourself surrounded by soldiers, many wounded, others preparing for what seems to be a war.
You turn your head left to spot someone you know too well, Deadshot. Seems he was also canned to Belle Reeve, and to your left was a woman you knew too well, Harley Quinn, also a prisoner. Your blood began to boil even more than before and you were ready to throttle her, but with all these soldiers here, you doubt you’d be able to do it without getting filled with lead. So you bid your time as any Hunter would. A Soldier approached them, and looked them up and down.
“Unlock 'em.” He orders, the soldiers obliged and your restraints are removed, you sit up from yoyr bindings and look further down your line. You even spot Killer Croc, in all his, Lizardy goodness. Harley Stretches and keeps her off putting smile. Closest to Harley was a man adorned with Tattoos, ElDiablo was his name, you heard a few reports about him from Batman.
“Mmm! Hi, boys! Harley Quinn. How do you do?” She said, obviously no one said anything. It was dead silence until she looks around. “Huh? What was that? I should kill everyone and escape? Sorry. It's the voices…” she said, but laughs, “I'm kidding! Jeez!…That's not what they really said.”
The soldiers aren’t done assembling their Squad, more soldiers drag over a sack that’s fighting pretty furiously.
“What do we got here? Twelve pounds of shit in a 10-pound sack. Welcome to the party, Captain Boomerang.” He watches them cut it open, Captain immediately swings on the first person he sees. The Soldiers pin him to a wall.
“Hey, what's going on, man? Hey, one minute I'm playing Mahjong with me nanna, then this red streak hits me outta nowhere.” Boomerang pleads.
“Shut up! You were caught robbing a diamond exchange.”
“I was not!”
He Totally Was.
There was one last member, Slipknot, the man who could climb anything, which was an odd ability set, it nonetheless he was here. The man before them all was Colonel Rick Flag.
“Listen up! In your necks, injection you got, it's a nanite explosive. It's the size of a rice grain, but it's powerful as a hand grenade. You disobey me, you die. You try to escape, you die. You otherwise irritate or vex me, and guess what? You die.” He says, which throws a wrench in your plans to escape, Harley obnoxiously puts her hand up.
“I'm known to be quite vexing. I'm just forewarning you.”
“Lady, shut up!” Flag yells, and then composed himself, “This is the deal. You're going somewhere very bad, to do something that'll get you killed. But until that happens, - you're my problem.” He explains, Deadshot looks him up and down.
“Mmm. So was that like a, uh, pep talk?” He asks.
“Yeah. That was a pep talk. There's your shit. Grab what you need for a fight. We're wheels up in 10.” He said, crates of gear was brought in for you and your “Teammates.”
“You might wanna work on your team motivation thing. You heard of Phil Jackson? He's like the gold standard, okay? Triangle, bitch. Study.” Deadshot, with those very inspiring words to flag suits up with everyone. You open your crate to see the old gear you had, still in damn good condition, and you suit up, Your body armor and jacket lined with shuriken, explosives and throwing knives, a combat knife strapped to your leg. Twin M1911 Dual Handguns, mint condition. And your helmet, still holding one scar on it, you take the helmet out of its case and stare at it. Your eyes waver for a moment to your other teammates, everyone seems to have some dumb gimmick, but your eyes dressed down Harley, not by your choice of course, you’ve been cramped in a hole for nearly a year, and the first woman you see was stripping down in front of you. An urge came over you and you knew exactly what it was, she finally gets her shirt on and sees almost every guy staring.
“What?” She said, they all quickly go back to doing what they were supposed to do, you as well, pushing those feelings down. You keep looking at your mask, Deadshot does the same thing with his.
“What? Won't fit anymore? Too much junk in the trunk?” Harley said to him.
“Nah. Every time I put this on, somebody dies.” He tried to shake it off, but couldn’t that.. this wouldn’t be a normal contracts
“And?” Harley said.
“I like putting it on.” He admits, she smirks and grabs her mallet, “Goody. Somethin' tells me a whole lotta people are about to die!” She sounds so giddy.
“Yeah. It's us. We're being led to our deaths.” Diablo said.
“I don’t plan on it.” You said, looking down the barrels of one of your 1911’s.
“You know something we don’t Mate?” Boomerang asks, “No.” You reply. “I just don’t plan on dying again.” You mutter.
“What you a zombie or something?” Deadshot looks unimpressed. “Something like that… point is; Been dead, done that… I plan on getting out of here..” you say, and turn to Harley.
“I’ve got business to take care of.” You made your claim pretty obvious but it didn’t matter to you, escape is the only plan, and getting this explosive disabled. “You don’t seem to giddy like these guys..” you ask El Diablo, “I’m not here to hurt anyone man.” He said. Deadshot was the first to let them all know.
“Y'all might wanna leave old boy alone. He could torch this whole joint. Ain't that right, ese?” He looks at Diablo, who calmly shows his hands, flames emitting from them, but low ones:
“Ain't got nothing to worry about from me. I'm cool, homie.” He says, Flag returns to them, holding a tablet with Amanda on screen.
“Behold the voice of God.” He said, and she gives them the rundown. “For those of you who don't know me officially, my name is Amanda Waller. There's an active terrorist event in Midway City. I want you to enter the city, rescue HVT-1, and get them to safety.” She orders.
“I'm sorry. Uh... For those of us who don't speak good guy, what is HVT-1?” Deadshot asks.
“HVT.. High Value Target.” You say, “It’s like a bounty, Basically a rescue mission.” You explain, Deadshot nods, admitting you made it sound much less cool. “The only person that matters in the city, the one person you can't kill. Complete the mission, you get time off your prison sentence. Fail the mission, you die. Anything happens to Colonel Flag, I'll kill every single one of you. Remember, I'm watching. I see everything.” Waller ends the communication and Flag turns to Deadshot
There's your pep talk.”
“Compared to your shit, she killed it. So that's it? What, we some kind of Suicide Squad?” He asks, Flag ignores his question and leaves.
“I'll notify your next of kin. Alpha, Bravo team. Mount up!” He orders, you look around to the team you’ll be forced to work with. All of them, criminals in their own right, but for now they’re the thing between success, or all of you dying painful deaths. You put on your helmet and the detective mode still works, turning it off. You load your guns and walk to the helicopter.
Task Force X, has been activated.
#male reader#harley quinn#harley quinzel#harley x reader#harley quinn x reader#harley quinn x male reader#suicide squad#dc#dc comics#Ornii#angst#we simp
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Partners in Death...And Life
Part 5: Glimpse of Me and You: Part i
|Part 4: The Radio Stars' Co-Host Just Wants To Do The Dishes| |Part 5: Gimpse of me and you: Part ii| |Masterlist| Ao3| Taglist| Pairings: Alastor x wife! Reader Tags: fem!reader, established relationships, Asexual! Alastor, Reader is in hell for a reason Warning: Blood and dead bodies <3| A little bit suggestive Series summary: After a seven-year absence, you find the man you were married to in life, not only back in town, but also helping...*checks notes*... the Princess of Hell run a hotel aimed at rehabilitating sinners who were sent to the bad place for a reason. Now, I know what you must be thinking. Part 1? Yeah…this chapter is supposed to actually be much longer, but the second part of the fic isn’t complete yet and I have like two more exams. And biochemistry isn’t something to laugh about. I am slowly losing my mind. I close my eyes and I see aldehydes and hemiketals. Anyway, part two of this will be posted in like two or three days. It’s already drafted, just need to edit it. So here’s a bite size chapter. It contains marriage years 1930 and 1931. 1932 isn't complete yet, sadly. It was quite long, so part 2 will just be 1932.
ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ
1930
That blasted car is too far.
With each step, the tip of your heels scrape the pavement. Shoe maintenance tells you that dragging the rubber tip shortens its lifespan, but your toes pinch when you lift your shoe.
Alastor takes long strides, walking with the pace of a man with his ass on fire. Pick a struggle. One either walks fast but takes short strides, or walks slow but takes long strides. It’s unethical to have both.
Streetlamps illuminate the sidewalk. The dried leaves scattered around catch on your shoe, and the city’s smog particles stick on your skin.
The city sucks ass.
Alastor will have to drag you by the hair to force you to take another step on this cockroach infested streets. One taste of that fresh air surrounding your shared home, and suddenly, you’ve gone soft. Gone are the days where second-hand smoke reminded you of home. Now, home is the radio’s volume turned up in ungodly hours.
Alastor tightens his arm around yours, pulling you closer to him.
He’s wearing his favorite bowtie tonight. Everything from the shine of his shoes to the way he combed his hair screams fancy . . . except for that bowtie.
It’s not something meant for exquisite dinners with your wife.
You didn’t understand his instance. It was something you picked up on your way home one day, a measly scrap of fabric you purchased back when you didn’t know what good quality bow ties were. Alastor should know of its poor quality, yet he calls it his favorite.
Alastor lowers closer to your ear. “Is this your way of telling me you wish to visit the city’s zoo?”
“Zoo . . . ?” you echo. These shoes are going straight in the garbage bin once you get home. “Why would I want to go there?”
Alastor presses a kiss on your cheek. “I thought you were doing a penguin impression. It's a rather fabulous one, might I add.”
“Ha . . . Ha . . . Ha. It’s because I’m walking like a penguin. Not your best one, dearest,” you say, patting his biceps. They’re firmer than they look. “That’s a little bit on the nose. Is it an off night for you?”
“Your feet are hurting,” Alastor tells you like you don’t feel the way your toes slowly lose blood circulation. “I wonder . . . . Will you deny it? Or are you willing to humble yourself before me, and ask for a seat? There’s still a few more blocks until we reach the car.”
Now, there’s absolutely no way you are going to tell Alastor how your feet pinch and your ankle wobble.
With a bright smile, and sheer acting, you continue walking. “Did you do this on purpose?”
Alastor raises his eyebrows. “You were the one who insisted on accompanying me.”
“Well, my feet feel perfectly normal,” you say as your toes buzz. “This is nothing. You should see how long I’m on my feet during work.”
“Yes, because that is a perfectly acceptable thing to happen in workplaces, dearest.” Alastor tightens his arm once more. His thumb brushes up and down your arm. “I would say it pains me to say this, but we both know that would be a lie. I told you so.”
“You did not, actually,” you say, shaking your foot to dislodge the leaves sticking to the bottom of your shoe. “You barely took one glance and said, ‘��Those look lovely, dear! ’.”
Alastor pauses his steps, and turns to you with a smile. The night does little to dull how bright his brown eyes shine like stardust to you.
He reaches out towards you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. He tugs on your ear, and you slap his hand away.
Alastor massages his hand. “That hurt, you know,” he says. “But I meant about waiting. You should still be enjoying your drink.”
“And leaves my dearest, darling husband out here? Alone?” you snort, pulling him to continue walking. “I think I remember someone telling me that thieves don’t dissolve in the sun. Imagine them in the dark!”
“And what would be your plan if we both get robbed?”
You show Alastor your biggest smile. “It’s a good thing I have such a big and scary husband to protect me . . . You . . . You would protect me, right?”
Alastor’s laughter rings across the air. It’s breathy and light and absolutely everything to you.
Alastor grabs your hand and intertwine his fingers around yours. He leads you further into the streets. Soon, smooth pavements replace the pot holes. Leaves replace the scattered beer cans. Grass replace the asphalt roads. Treen replace the buildings. Alastor pulls you deeper into some tiny park where the streetlamps are brighter, and the air smells closer to home.
You follow him, squeezing his hand.
Alastor squeezes back.
At the corner of this park, a children’s playground stands.
The dark does little to dull the bright colors of the seesaw and monkey bars. In the middle, a pirate-shim themed deck connects to a slide. The swing sways lazily with the nudge of the night’s breeze. There’s not a single living soul except for you and him. It’s eerie to see such a place empty when it should be filled to the brim with the life of children’s laughter.
Alastor’s strides become longer, and his pace even faster as he pulls you closer to the playground’s swing.
He releases his grip, and suddenly, your hand belongs to you once more. Alastor brushes the sand off the swing, and offers you a seat with a bow and outstretched arms.
You take the seat. The pressure lifts from your buzzing toes. It’s almost heavenly.
Alastor slides his coat off his shoulders. With soft giggles and a stupid smile, you watch him pull his arm out. Sleeve garters are worn for practical uses, but as a fashion piece . . . .Hmmm, it’s a great look on him. It’s a shame Alastor often hides how those garters compliment his biceps with a coat. How long would it take to hide every single coat he owns?
Alastor slides his eyes to you. It lingers. “Stop that.”
You offer him your most innocent smile as a reply.
Alastor inches close enough for you to inhale his scent. He drapes his coat over your shoulders, pulling on the lapels to secure it around your shoulders.
You press your lips on the corner of his mouth. “Thank you.”
Alastor kneels on the ground. He pulls your ankle towards him, sliding off your heel. “That’s all you’re going to say?”
You kiss his cheek. “Was there something else I needed to say?” you ask. “That seemed like a proper response.”
He glides his thumb over the reddened parts of your skin, massaging your foot. “Exactly . . . .It was a proper response,” he tells you. “Aren’t you going to question me? Demand to know if I’m going to kill you?”
“I think what you’re doing is rather obvious.”
Alastor stores your shoes to the side, and leaves your feet hanging out in the air. He circles behind you, hovering close enough to feel his presence, even with the coat. He wraps his hands around the metal chain connected to the swing, and sways you back and forth. “Did you enjoy the restaurant? A co-worker recommended it to me.”
“And in the off chance I don’t, will I be seeing that co-worker lying in the middle of our basement?”
Alastor smiles at you. “That depends,” he says. “Did you enjoy yourself?”
You tilt your head backwards to catch his eyes. “Is this a trick question? Am I supposed to say that nothing can compare to your cooking, or something along those lines?”
Alastor shakes the chains, jerking the swing. “You’re supposed to give me an actual answer,” he says, rolling his eyes. “We can come back if you liked it.”
You lean on Alastor’s leg, using it as a backrest. “Every meal is enjoyable when I am in your company, my love” you say. “But that crab was something else. It looked expensive . . . We’re, uh, not suddenly going to become poor, right?”
Alastor stares at you. “I’m going to push you off.”
You wrap your hands around Alastor’s, keeping his hold around the chains firm. “What did I do this time?”
Alastor sighs, and swings you gently. “I can afford nice dinners with you.”
“Just me?”
“Only you.”
Alastor pulls you to your feet. Sand pools around your toes. You pull his coat closer around your shoulders as he drags you closer to the pirate-ship themed deck. He releases his hold on your hand, and your fingers brush against each other.
He walks to the platform. The entrance was made for children, so Alastor has to crawl and duck underneath to access the slide.
You fiddle with the lapels of his coat. “What are you doing?”
Alastor glances back at you, smiling as he crawls underneath the entrance. His ass sticks out when he does. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
“If your ass gets stuck,” you begin, crossing your arms, “I’m going to leave you here.”
Alastor rolls his eyes, shimmying further into the entrance. “How lucky then that it’s, apparently, horrendously flat,” he says. “There’s nothing there to get stuck.”
“There’s nothing horrendous about it,” you say with a smile. “I see you’re wearing the pants I like.”
Alastor snorts. “Oh, shut up.”
“Not a chance.” Your smile twists brighter.
Alastor grabs the railing, and pulls himself up. His biceps contract when he does. Sleeve garters and railing are for practical uses, but the only thing echoing through your mind were impractical uses right now. Impractical but exciting . . . .You need to get it together.
“ . . . Flirting,” Alastor says, pulling your mind from wherever it wandered off to. “Really?”
“That was hardly flirting, dearest.”
Alastor ducks into the slide. His ass lands on the sand, and he curses into the air. You cough to stifle a laugh.
He hops to his feet, brushing the sand off his pants. His lips twist and his eyebrows furrow as he cringes in pain. “This is a hazard,” he says, glaring at the slide. He turns to you and smiles. “You should try it.”
“How brave of you to risk a shattered tailbone for me,” you say. “But I’m not sliding down that thing when you just called it a hazard.”
“You are an incredibly boring person,” he tells you. “Is it not a fad nowadays to be loose and goofy against these depressing times of economic downfall?”
Your raise your eyebrow.” You want me to crawl up there and slide down in this outfit?”
Alastor leans on the side of the slide. “I don’t see any good reason not to.”
“If you wish to ogle my undergarments, there’s no need to concoct such a scheme,” you say, smiling at him. “You merely need to ask.”
Alastor’s lips twist. “I’m not—”
“Oh, calm down, I’m just pulling your leg,” you say, snorting. “You would need to think of someone besides yourself to do such a thing. So, there’s no need to get your perfect little head into such a fuss.”
“Stop it.”
You smile innocently. “No.”
Alastor walks closer to you. “And you wonder why no one wanted to play with you as a child.”
You take steps to walk closer to him as well, meeting him halfway. “Everyone wanted to play with me,” you say. “I’ll have you know that I was quite the delight.”
You stand before each other, inches apart.
Alastor stares at you. What do those eyes tell him as he watches you stand before him, buried into his coat? He leans closer to you. “I doubt that.”
You take a step closer and slide your arms around him to bury yourself into his hold.
“How rude,” you say with a smile. You look up at him to hold his gaze, propping your chin on his chest. His arms tighten around your back. “I was such a delightful child that I would have played with you, even when no other kid wanted to do so.”
Alastor leans down, pecking your lips. You inch upwards to chase his lips, but self-control takes over. “You are and always will be a nerd,” he says. “You were probably the type to read during the afternoon.”
You tighten your hug on him. “What an incredible assumption to make.”
Alastor places a hand on your head. “Am I wrong?”
“I’m not telling you that,” you say, leaning your head into his chest.
Alastor pulls away from the hug, grabbing your hand to drag you to the monkey bars.
He climbs to the very top, and swings his legs to sit between the bars. He offers his hand, and you take it. His thumb brushes over your fingers and you climb up the steps and onto the bars. It’s difficult to maneuver with such a fancy outfit. Alastor keeps a steady hand on you, and the other goes on your waist as you slide to sit next to him.
The whole playground can be seen from the top of the monkey bars.
“If you weren’t a nerd,” Alastor begins, bumping your shoulder with his, “then you were probably a bully.”
You grip the bar, leaning back to stare. His hair brushes over his eyes. Alastor runs a hand over the strands to push it back. You reach out and push his glasses up his nose. “What makes you say that?”
Alastor boops your nose. “You’re a pretty little thing who works in healthcare. Isn’t there a stereotype for that?”
You blink at him a bit dumbly, cheeks flushed and tingling. Heat trails up your skin, and you have to turn away to hide from his gaze. “You think I’m pretty?” you ask rather idiotically. Deep breaths are needed to calm yourself. “Look . . . look who’s flirting now.”
Alastor hooks his legs on the bar, and swings backwards. He hangs in the air, the force of his legs the only thing keeping him from falling.
“Don’t do that,” you say, hissing. “You could break your neck.”
Alastor catches your eye with a wild smile. “I won’t.”
“And I’ll be sure to tell that to my next husband as we’re spending all your money,” you tell him. “Now get down from there before you make me a widow!”
Alastor releases his legs from the bar, and his body smacks on the ground. He lies motionless on the sand.
With a sigh, you carefully climb down the monkey bars. You nudge Alastor’s bicep with your foot when you reach him. “You’re not fooling anyone.”
Silence.
You fold the skirt of your dress, and sit across him. You slam your head onto him, using his chest as a pillow.
“Oof!” Alastor curls into you a bit, eyes twitching. He drapes an arm over your stomach, and draws spirals with his finger.
“I think we could have been friends when we were children,” you say, smiling as you feel the way his chest rises up and down with each breath he takes.
Alastor studies the sky. There are no stars to look at here in the city. It’s covered by the lights and the smog. “We wouldn’t. I probably would have hated you.”
“You—Hate me? Impossible!” you say with a laugh. “You think I’m pretty.”
“Ha. Ha,” he says. “You think you’re so clever.”
You intertwine your fingers with his, tracing the ring on his finger. “Sadly, I think I’ll have to agree,” you say. “I probably would have hated you as well.”
“I’m impossible to hate.”
“I'm sure I, of all people, could find a way,” you say with a smile. “Kids can be mean. And you were probably a really weird one.”
Alastor raises his hand to the air, studying his ring against the dark sky. You do the same. Both rings shimmer in the night. “Yet . . . ,” he starts, “here we are, married.”
“I can’t believe we actually got married.”
“I can.”
“Is this where you’ll tell me all about how you fell in love with me at first sight?” your snort. “That my smile and incredible stitching told you I was the woman you were going to wash dishes with for the rest of your life.”
Alastor laughs and his chest rises and falls. “Well, it wasn't flirting.”
“I did not flirt with you.”
“You did.”
“I didn’t.”
“On our third meeting, you told me we walked to the wrong house, just to spend four hours with me in the rain,” Alastor says, and you see the smile creeping on his lips. “You were so entrapped by my very being that you couldn’t bear to spend another second without me. You looked like you wanted to kis—”
You slam your head down into his chest. “Oh, shut up.”
Alastor glances at you. “Not a chance.”
“Okay then, well I remember two people underneath that umbrella,” you say with a huff. “You accepted my invitation.”
“I did,” he says. “Although, I had the excuse of needing to gather information on such a suspicious person. That was purely professional.”
“And you decided that an additional four hours of walking was necessary,” you say. “You could have stopped entertaining me in the first hour or even the second, but you spent all four hours getting your shoulders wet.”
“I did, indeed.”
Laughter rings into the air. With each and every of Alastor’s laugh, your head bounces up and down. You bury your face deeper into his chest, laughing against it.
“We’ve been married for more than a year,” you say. “How has it been for you?”
“Nothing much has changed, surprisingly,” Alastor says, shrugging his shoulders. “The only thing that’s different is I get to say the most ridiculous thing like how completing it is to be able to just exist with you.”
You take his hand, bringing it closer to your mouth to brush a soft kiss. “There’s nothing ridiculous about it, my love. I enjoy how completing it is to be able to just exist when you are with me,” you say, and Alastor caresses your cheek, trailing the back of his fingers down your skin. “Shall we head home?”
There’s a brightness in Alastor’s eyes when he smiles. “Not yet,” he says. “Let’s stay like this for a moment.”
Maybe the city isn’t so awful. Alastor could ask you to stay in this park forever, and you would happily breathe in the smog. Later, you will have to stand and grab your shoes, and finally head home to prepare for the next day. But that’s later. This is now.
You giggle against his chest. “You think I’m pretty.”
Alastor groans, placing a hand over his eyes.
There will be a lifetime of moments like this waiting for you in a world where you both just exist.
ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ
1931
The needle pierces through the fabric. You tug on it, pulling the blue thread up and then around to create a simple back stitch. The cat’s outline pieces together. Later, you’ll fill the cloth with grass and flowers, and a little butterfly to give the cat a friend. Should you gift this to Alastor? Well, either way, he’ll find a way to display it around the house sooner or later.
The radio crackles, and music fades into the background.
Soft taps sound on the speaker. “ Before I leave for the night ,” Alastor’s voice rings from the radio, “ I would like to call any attention to any wives out there, especially the one married to me .”
It doesn’t matter that Alastor is all the way at work, miles away, you still roll your eyes at him . . . but you turn the volume up, listening closely to what he has to say.
“ I know my voice can get, oh, so, entrapping ,” he says, and you swear you can hear him smile. “ Thus, this is a gentle encouragement to complete any tasks you are putting off. For example, you could take out the trash like what was agreed upon .”
You glare at the radio, flicking its wood. “Oh, I hate you,” you mutter. “I hate you so much.”
“ Now, now, dearest, we both know that is a lie ,” Alastor says. “ Don’t wait up! ”
The music fades back in, and the broadcast ends for the night.
He likes to think he’s so clever. Let’s see how clever he’ll be when you kill him in his sleep. It will be easy, barely an inconvenience. You’ll drop a pillow right over that handsome face of his, and laugh as he chokes on his own ego.
However, . . . with a sigh . . . you take out the trash . . . like what was agreed upon.
The air is cold at this time of night. The moon looks beautiful tonight, it’s light illuminating the garden. It would be a shame to waste such a breathtaking sight. A part of you wishes to share this with Alastor, that he could be here, right now, and stare at the moon next to you. And the two of you will exist in each other’s company.
You grab the unfinished art piece, and continue on the rocking chair, stitching and listening to the crickets.
It takes hours of stitching and sore fingers, but Alastor’s car finally pulls up the driveway. The engine dies, and he hops out of the car, circling to the trunk and popping it open.
You drop your things, and take a seat on the porch steps to watch him, the moon no longer being the most breathtaking sight.
Alastor’s still wearing his favorite bowtie. It’s too dark to see clearly, but you think he’s pulling out a body from the car’s trunk. He grabs the straps of the obviously filled cadaver bag, letting it drag across the floor.
A good wife would help their husbands carry a very heavy and very dead body. But . . . if it means being able to sit and stare at your husband hauling a very, very dead person, then maybe, being a good wife is overrated.
Alastor pauses when he sees you, dropping the straps of the cadaver bag. “What are—Is something wrong?”
You smile at the urgency in his voice. “No, not one bit,” you say, leaning on your head on your hand. “Don’t stop on my account.”
“You should be in bed,” he says, crossing his arms. “I told you not to wait for me.”
Your huff, blowing strands of your hair off your face. “Did you? This is the first I’m hearing of this.”
“I did,” Alastor tells you. “Did you not catch tonight’s broadcast?”
“It was a rather busy day. I had things to do, people to see, and all that.”
Even in the dark, you see the way Alastor’s grin widens. He steps towards the garbage bin, opening the lid to check its content. “You are such a horrible liar,” he says, snorting. “I see you got my message.”
Alastor steps into the light.
Part of his hair slicks back. It’s different from its usually neat look. His sleeves are pulled up, folded until his elbow. There are several red stains on him. It’s on his hair, stains his clothes, and paints his face. His eyes have never looked so brown before. How does Alastor manage to make murder . . . into . . . into . . . . You clear your throat a bit, already counting the day until the next time he goes on his hunts.
“Why, hello there, stranger,” you say, not bothering to fight the smile on your lips. “It’s rather cold tonight. Would you mind keeping a lady company?”
Alastor rolls his eyes, brushing back his hair. “I’m a mess.”
“Red’s a great look,” you say. “The seat next to me is empty.”
“Flirting, really?” he says, but he sits next to you. “You’re getting shameless these days.”
You press your lips on his cheek. “For you?” Another kiss. “Always.”
Alastor takes off his coat. The fabric pools around his broad shoulders and down his back before he pulls out his arms. He throws it at your face, smacking you with it. “I hope you don’t go around saying stuff like that to every man you see,” he says, smiling at you. “I might get jealous.”
You peel off his coat from your face, wrapping it around your shoulders. “Only the one married to me,” you tell him. “You should see how I flirt with my husband.”
Alastor props an arm on the steps, leaning back to meet your eyes. “How disappointing to hear you’re married.”
“Don’t be! This current one won’t be alive for very long, so there’s going to be an open spot,” you say, waving your hands. “Are you interested in taking his place? I hope you are—you’re much more handsome than he is.”
Alastor flicks your nose. “Funny.”
You rub your nose a bit. “So . . . ,” you begin, propping your legs across Alastor’s lap, “what is a charming thing like you doing in these woods?”
A strong breeze sways his hair into his eyes. Alastor pushes the strands away, smiling at you like he always does. “What an honor it is to be called charming by you.”
“Oh, not just charming!” you say, clutching your heart as you swoon. “Has anyone ever told you how handsome you are?”
Alastor laughs, and his glasses slide down his nose. You push it up for him. “Not nearly enough,” he says. “Maybe I should take your husband’s open spot, afterall. My wife never compliments me as much as you do.”
He traces circles on the skin of your legs. You give him a little kick for what he said. “Maybe she would say it more if your ego didn’t inflate every time,” you say. “I would go as far as to say she’s doing God’s work by keeping you humble.”
Alastor pushes your legs off his lap.
He reaches into his pocket and takes out his handkerchief. Your eyes catch on the little design embroidered on the fabric. “Since you insist on keeping me here, you should at least help clean me up,” he says, offering the cloth to you. “I would do it myself, but there’s no mirror here.”
“Why clean such a masterpiece?” you say, but accept the handkerchief anyway. “May I?”
Alastor nods, inching close enough for the smell of rusted copper and iron to hit your nose. Intoxicating. It was just plainly and simply . . . divine. Like a rose that fell straight from heaven’s garden.
You wipe blood off his face. Some of the streaks had already dried. There’s a stubborn spot right on his jaw. You brush the back of your fingers down his cheek, trailing it down until you hook it right under his chin.
How does your face look right now for Alastor to stare at you with wide eyes?
The smudge line of blood that paints his jaw isn’t clearing. It’s too dry. You inch your face closer, brushing your nose on his skin as you inhale the dangerous combination of Alastor mixing with the strong undertones of iron. Soft exhales land on his skin. Your lips part, giving way to moisten that dried spot with your tongue, trailing it up his jaw.
The hints of metal tingle against your tongue. It was sweet and salty, and it combined with Alastor to create something akin to aged fine wine. But not even the most expensive wine could be as intoxicating as this.
Alastor grabs your face, pulling you to meet his eyes. He squishes your cheeks. “That’s unsanitary!” he says, hissing. “You don’t know what type of bacteria mixed in it.”
You pull your face away from his hold, giving him your most innocent smile.
Hopping to your feet, you circle around the dead body that lies in a very dead position on the ground. You kneel, heart thumping, and pull the zipper down.
“Oh . . . ,” you say, taking in the violence this man experienced, “ . . . wow.”
Alastor was not kind to this man, for this one died screaming.
Alastor leans his arms on his knees, smiling at you. “ I got a little carried away,” he says. “Will you still be able to use him?”
“I think he’ll agree that got more than a little carried away,” you say, snorting as you zip the body back into its bag. “Shall I fetch the bone saw?”
“It’s that bad?”
You walk over to where Alastor sits on the steps, climbing to hover on top of him. The only thing keeping you from crashing down on his chest are the way your hands grip the wood behind him. Inches of space separate your bodies. How far will Alastor entertain you?
You smile down at him, trapping him on the steps between your arms. “I can have this one in pieces by sunrise,” you say, voice barely a whisper. “You can grab the spare, and we can call it a date.”
Alastor tilts his chin up to meet your eyes as he smiles at you. “And tell me,” he begins, voice just as soft as yours. He settles his hands on your waist to steady you above him, “how do you plan on achieving his?”
You trace his shoulder, trailing your fingers up his clavicle bone. “It’s like cutting a chicken,” you say. “All I need to do is take my knife and pound the edge across the joints to disconnect his limbs in one swift motion. Smaller pieces would require the saw.”
Alastor pushes himself upwards, and presses a kiss on your cheek. “And you would spend all night cutting this man for me?”
You hum with delight. “Only for you.”
Alastor tugs your waist, and you come crashing on top of him. You curse as your hands slip, and your face lands on his chest. Alastor hugs you, his laughter ringing in the air, breathy and light and so full of delight. “You are the most ridiculous person to be able to exist with.”
You laugh, accepting how Alastor is the one doing the trapping now. “I’m honored you think so.”
“I think that was the most romantic thing I have ever heard in my life,” he says. “I think I could kiss you right now.”
“Don’t let your wife catch you saying that.” You snake your arms around Alastor’s back, tightening the hug he shares with you. “I hear she gets extremely jealous, and it’s never a smart idea to cross a woman who owns a bone saw.”
Alastor’s back digs into the edges of the porch steps. If your added weight lodges the wood deeper into his back, then he makes no complaints. “That’s truly an idiotic thing to do.”
You press yourself deeper into his hold. It’s quite ridiculous. Hugging you on top of the steps must be uncomfortable, but Alastor does so anyway.
In the end, it’s you who pulls away first, but only to save him from an aching back.
Grasping the steps, you climb higher and press your lips on his forehead. You take the seat next to him. Alastor reaches for you, adjusting his coat around your shoulders to secure you from the night’s cold breeze.
“Bad day at work?” you say, leaning your head on his shoulder.
Alastor leans his head on top of yours. “I’m better now.”
You press deeper into him, laughing against his dress shirt. It’s stained with blood, but you don’t mind. “So, tell me, who is this unfortunate fellow that was on the receiving end of your stress,” you say. “And should I be jealous?”
“I don’t know if I should answer that—Do you happen to own a bone saw?”
You swat his arm, rolling your eyes as you do.
Alastor presses his body closer against yours. “I would love to hear you guess.”
“ Hmmm . . . .Well, this is Larry, and he comes from humble beginnings,” you tell him. “He’s a self-made man who met this pretty little thing.”
Alastor takes your hand, thumbing the ring on your finger. “You’re getting better at this.”
There are too many stains on Alastor’s shirt. It’s beyond saving. You’ll have to burn his whole outfit. “Larry met this most darling belle. They were happy until tragedy struck.”
Alastor pulls off his gloves, intertwining his bare fingers with yours. “I do love a tragedy.”
“They fell in love.”
“That’s not tragic,” he says, snorting.
“Then you are a fool, dearest. Love can kill in a way no one has ever been able to describe. Not even the greatest poets can describe the true depths of loss,” you tell him, squeezing his hand. “Homes have been burned in its name.”
Alastor kisses your cheek. “And how did Larry suffer?”
“His darling got taken away from him, in more ways than one,” you say. “Even on her deathbed, she could not recognize him.”
Alastor clutches his heart. “How truly heartbreak!”
You glance up at Alastor. He’s looking at the moon. “Yet, here you are smiling.”
“That’s because you are the most fantastic story teller.”
You pull away to stand, and your fingers brush as it slips out of his.
The porch stairs creak with every step. You reach for the radio on the windowsill, turning the knob until a faint click. Alastor’s lips twist when you change his pre-set station for softer melodies. That man and his radios—Always so particular.
You offer a hand to Alastor, giving him a small bow. “Dance with me?”
“I’m not exactly dressed for the occasion,” Alastor tells you, yet he takes your hand in his.
“There’s no need to worry about such trifling things,” you say. “I think you look divine, like a rose straight from heaven made just for me.”
Alastor wraps his hand around your own, and settles the other on your waist. Dancing can barely describe what you’re doing, not when the both of you only had the energy to sway to the music. But nevertheless, Alastor takes the lead on this dance.
He raises his arm, twirling you underneath. Your eyes lock together when you face him. “Hi.”
You smile at him. “Hi.”
“I’ve been wondering . . . How did you know work was stressing me?” he says, as you dance to the radio’s music. “Why say work specifically?”
You tilt your head, motioning to the window behind you. “That radio over there,” you say. “The one you keep by your chair. You were listening to it this morning when I gave you coffee.”
You hum the lyrics of the song that plays on the radio. It’s quite nice. Maybe you’ll ask Alastor to play it during his broadcast as a dedication to you. But knowing him, he’ll take this opportunity to become a nuisance made for you, and find something to poke fun about.
His eyebrows furrow. “I don’t understand.”
“You listen to that specific radio when you’re happy,” you say. Those brown eyes of his shift to you. In your most humble opinion, they shine brighter than the stars. “You were fine when you left but somewhere between leaving and coming home to me, your mood turned sour.”
Alastor presses a kiss on your fingers, brushing his lips over your skin with each word. “I would love to hear more about this.”
“The one in the kitchen, that’s for when you’re tired,” you say, chuckling. “The one in the office is for when you’re bored. You listen to the one on our nightstand when you’re thinking or upset.”
“Then what about the radio in the basement?” he asks with a smile that could rival the moon. “Tell me when I listen to that one.”
“That one is for me. You leave it there so I have something to keep me company,” you say. “The saxophone, on the other hand, is for when you’re frustrated.”
“And now, you’re just a master of what I’m feeling.”
“Not at all,” you say with a shrug. “I don’t know how you feel right now.”
Alastor inches closer, leaning down to meet your eyes. “Would you like to know?”
“Sure.”
Alastor places a hand on your cheek, caressing you with his thumb. You lean into how gently he traces your face. He leans closer, nudging his nose against your own. Alastor brushes his lips over you, and the cracks on his lip prick you. Why he decided to torture you with soft touches and hovering inches away exceeds your understanding.
The strong scent of copper and iron on his skin intoxicate every molecule that makes up your body. He’s unfair. Too unfair of him to hold such power over you. Alastor would love to know how he makes your skin buzz with each and every glance of those too brown eyes that shine brighter than starlight. This is a fact you will take to your grave.
Your eyes flutter to a close. Alastor decides to show you mercy, finally kissing your lips.
Open!
The demand drums across your mind.
Your eyelids stay shut as you kiss him back. The need to look at Alastor’s too brown eyes shout at you. What face is Alastor making right now? How does he look? What do those eyes see?
But he kisses you gently. Oh . . . so . . . gently. Alastor kisses you like he had something to say. There are words being whispered across your skin as your lips move together. His thumb brushes your skin, and you can’t open your eyes.
Kissing him makes you wish you spent your youth studying poems and soft metaphors instead of the role of hexokinase in turning Glucose into Glucose-6-phosphate. This wish comes suddenly and out of nowhere. Not once have you ever wished for a different pursuit. But you would forfeit all your knowledge to be able to describe the way Alastor’s lips strike you to your very soul.
That thought disappears quickly, mind too preoccupied with the overwhelming sensation of soft lips placing kiss after kiss. The arm around your waist pulls you close, your body pressing against his own as if it was the most natural thing to place you there, as if the Seraphim creating your bodies carved you to belong.
Alastor pulls away with a soft smile.
It takes every ounce of your self-control not to chase after his lips and pull him back to you. Heat flushes your face. You can’t find the strength to open your eyes, not with how much he makes your cheeks tingle.
“You’ve been observing me.” Alastor brushes your eyelids with his thumb. “Open your eyes.”
Your eyes flutter, heeding to his demand. There it is, your favorite sight looking straight at you, holding a beauty that the moon cannot compete against—his eyes. “Hi.”
Alastor’s smile widens. “Hi.”
There are words that bubble on your lips. Words that are begging to be said. Three words that could very well make this man run when he understands just how deep those words mean for him.
And there it is again, that wish to become a poet because those three words can never truly describe what is imprinted on your soul’s very essence. Those three words are not enough for a man who deserves poems full of soft metaphors and sweet analogies.
“That’s because I . . . I . . . ,” you trail off, hiding your face in his chest. “I think that’s just called marriage, and I always was weak to such radiant beauty.”
Coward . . . You are a coward.
That’s okay.
You don’t mind the word being shouted to you by your heart, not when it means you can guard it with walls.
It’s okay to be a coward, because it means there will always be a tomorrow. There will always be another chance, another moment, another day to be brave. Another tomorrow. Another next week. Another next month. Another next year.
There’s no need to tell Alastor the word your soul desperately wants him to understand. Not right now, at least.
Not when the evidence is already there: You and him.
There will be a lifetime of moments like this waiting for you in a world where you are his.
ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ
Next Part: |Glimpse of Me and You: Part 2| Don't be shy to talk to me. I don't bite at all! I would love to hear your thoughts on the chapter. And all comments really motivate me to work <3. 1932 will be posted in a few days. 1933 on the other hand….Well, let’s just say that such a grand year needs its own chapter. As I was writing this, I kept going back to the idea that Reader can flirt, but can't handle being flirted back. It was too funny not to add. And like I swear heart appears in my eyes, as well as Reaader's eyes everytime Alastor does anything just slightly unhinged. That too was too funny not to add. Taglist: @mybrainautocorrect @ray-rook @teavibesaf @valentique @qardasngan @alastorssimp @aestheticgals-blog @slaggylemon @reikamasama @obessivlyonline @okay-babe @lyralibra @holymusicalmothman @amoraneuro @tobyisher3
#alastor#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor the radio demon#alastor x wife!reader#alastor x you#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin imagines#alastor x wife reader#human alastor#hazbin alastor x reader#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel headcanons#hazbin hotel headcanon#hazbin hotel fanfiction#Hazbin Hotel#hazbin hotel imagines
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°𝄞 𝐒𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 °𝄞
☆ 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚃𝚠𝚘 ☆
"I'm from the future"
♬♪ 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 ♬♪
ᯓ★ previous chapter | next chapter ★ᯓ
✶࿐ Summary : now, that you're in the past, can you able to make the future for better or for worse?
✶࿐ Word Count : honestly, no idea
✶࿐ Warnings : 18+ Eddie Munson x Future!FEM!reader, cursing, reader is adjusting in the new environment, comedy, sci-fic, time travel, set in 1986, reader lives in 2024, toxic point of view of religion, slight panic attack, erm- not going to spoil anything but yeah 👀
✶࿐ What to Expect : fluff at the start.....angst at the end hehe
✶࿐ Note To Reader : I can't believe y'all enjoyed part one of this series! I seriously cannot wait for it all to lay it out here for you guys to read! 🥺🫶🏻✨
✶࿐ Author Note : reminder that this series is inspired from my favorite TV shows/films and I just simply incorporated them all together and of course, my touch to make it an original work of mine! so, this is very special to me! I hope y'all liked this one again 💗
𓆩♱𓆪 𝙚𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙚 𝙢𝙪𝙣𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𓆩♱𓆪
❦ 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙖'𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙥𝙖𝙜𝙚 ❦
A faint sound of "Madonna - Live To Tell" is playing through your walkman that is Chrissy kept holding onto it, she wrap her arms around herself, worry is still evident in her eyes
Eddie is sitting beside her as his knees bopping up and down as he twists his rings anxiously
After pacing in front of them for a while, you sat in front of them
You don't know what to say to them
You know they don't know what else to say too
After what just happened
You sigh as you try to muster up, "We need to call Dustin"
Eddie slowly raises his head up to look at you
"Henderson?" He asks in question
"Yes, we need to talk to him" you nod as you looked around for a telephone
Chrissy tries to give back your walkman but you stop her "You still need that, just keep it to yourself for a while"
She purses both of her lips as she softly mutters "Okay"
"Why do you want to talk to him and also how did you know him?"
"That's....a lot of explanation to tell"
All of you got startled from the sudden knock at the door and all of you got alerted looks from each other
Eddie is the one who stood up but you tell him to stay put as you slowly walk up to open the door
"Max?"
The red haired girl furrows her brows at you, "Who are you?"
Eddie ran up to your side, "Oh, hey, red"
She darts eyes at you and back to him as she let pushes herself in the way to get inside
She saw Chrissy who is now standing as she twiddles with her thumbs
She shakes her head in confusion "I heard screaming outside and uh...." She trails off and averted her eyes elsewhere
You know what she's trying to say, so, you tell her
"Max, I think they both have an idea of what's exactly is going on here"
She squints her eyes at you as she ignores your words, "Eddie, who is she?"
"I-" he got cut off
"How in the world she knows my name when I haven't even seen her around here before" she crossed both of her arms as she became guarded in your presence
"She saved me"
Max turns her back at you to look at Chrissy, "What?"
"She saved my life"
"From who?"
"Vecna"
"Can we not mention that name?" Eddie winces as he get the creeps just by hearing that name again
"Okay, you need to talk" Max stomps towards to Eddie and aimed her finger at him
"Why are you pointing at me when I also have no idea who she is!" He defends himself as he exaggeratedly gestures his hands and arms at you
"Before I get to start talking we must call Dustin first" you ignore their banter as you headed at the telephone
Eddie is dumbfounded that you knew his phone number and Max raised both of her eyebrows
Chrissy clears her throat as she approached them stealing their attention away from you
"I think I need you to fill you in about her" she says to Max who is now intrigued by you
₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ゚.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ゚.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ゚.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ゚.₊˚ʚ
"So, you're telling me that she knew what you're seeing something while in a trance?" Max is trying to connect all of the puzzles together as she starts realizing a little bit that she gets the same symptoms that Chrissy has
"Yeah" she softly answers as she glanced at you and Eddie by the telephone
"And she knows how to prevent it?" Max gestures to you as she couldn't believe that you knew about....oh, she hopes that you're thinking the same thing as her since they've kept this as a secret
Chrissy nods as she deeply sighs as she leans backward in the couch
Max kept a serious face as she slowly processing the information that Chrissy told her
"He's not answering the phone" you sigh as you put back the phone on its place
"Of course, he doesn't, it's literally 9pm?" Max tries to reason with you as she points at the clock but you're not giving up
"We need to come over to his house" you start picking up your bag as you walk past to Eddie who is freaking out following you
"What? Are you crazy-" he exclaims but you cut him off with a deadpan stare
"Do you want my help or not?" You massage your forehead in annoyance as you raised both of your brows at him
Eddie looked behind him, where Chrissy and Max already stepped out to his trailer as he groans and start to get his van keys
He parked the van on the side of the road as all of you stare at Dustin's house, the living room is still has a light beam which means the TV is still on as it peaks through the window
"What now?" Max asks as she watches you step outside of the van, Chrissy kept her eyes on you
Eddie turns off the engine quickly as he jogs over to catch up with you
Before he asks you on what to do, you say "Throw rocks at Dustin's window" you whisper
"What- why me???" He whisper-shout as you picked up the small rocks and places them into his palm
"It's because when he sees you, he'll come by on an instant without hesitation"
You looked over at Eddie's van as you saw Max and Chrissy walking outside heading towards at you both
"Tell him to come over at their garage"
"Wait-"
Before he can say anything else, you're already with Max and Chrissy who are now entering Dustin's garage
He sighs as he starts throwing the small rocks into Dustin's window
"Isn't this trespassing?" Max questions you as Chrissy looked at you thinking the same thing
You halted for a second, but still continue to enter inside
"At times like this, we can't think about that now" you say as all of you succeeded stepping inside with discretion as you wait for them
Eddie throw 2 and 3 more small rocks at window as he curses under his breath
"Come on, Henderson, wake up, open the light" he muttered as he throws the last one
As if he can hear his words and it did turn on the lamp to his room as he can see the silhouette of his young friend walking towards the window
Dustin glanced at his digital clock as he grumbles, "It's almost 10pm, my god- if this is Mike, I'm gonna punch- what- Eddie?"
"Come over to your garage" he whispers as he kept his voice to minimum
"Wha-what are you doing-" he whispers back with a confusion sitting on his face
"Just come over to your garage" he said it with a stern demanding voice as he disappears in Dustin's line of sight
Dustin quickly removed his robe and starts wearing his long sleeve shirt as he quietly walked down the stairs but for some reason he stares at his walkie-talkie and grabs it before he leaves his room
He sees his mother asleep on the couch as the TV is still on as he carefully crosses the room behind her
When he enters at the garage, he is so extremely confused at the group of people that he is seeing right before his very eyes
Eddie, Chrissy, Max and.....you?
"I know this is a lot to take in but we don't have much time" you say as you walk closer to him
Dustin pulled his brows together at you as he looked at Eddie in question
His metalhead friend sighs, "I introduce you to the mysterious girl that I encountered earlier in the woods"
"Alright, Dustin's is here, now, tell us" Max voice is firm as she looked at you curiously
"Tell us what?" Dustin asks as he looks at everyone in the room
"She's not from around here" Chrissy told him as she awaits for your answer
"So, what- if she lives outside of Hawkins?" Eddie's face crumpled as he shakes his head aggressively
"Not like that exactly-" you got stopped when your phone rang as you start fishing out of your pocket
All of them jumped at the non-stop ringing sound on whatever that was and all of them looked everywhere where that is coming from
You open up your phone as you swiped down to your notifs
90+ unread messages
65+ missed calls from Veronica
As you start checking everything that is going on your phone, you forgot to look at the people in front of you who is now jaw dropped of what they just saw that you're holding in your hand
"Okay, so- uh- don't panic, that's just the sound.....of my phone" you close off your phone as you slowly raise your head and saw their shocked faces as you look at them bewildered
As they kept darting their eyes on you and to your phone
You flash them a tight-lipped smile as you finally declare
"I'm from the future"
₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ゚.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ゚.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ゚.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ゚.₊˚ʚ
You told them everything from the very beginning on how you ended up stuck in here
But, you saved the other mishaps that happened before you got transported in this world
You really don't want to mention about your personal matters and well, if they ask what will happen next.... you don't want them to freak out and panic
"So, that's what brings you here?" Dustin points at the cassette tape that you're holding
"Yeah" you answer with your head hang low
"And you live in 2024?" Max leans closer to you as you could see the confusion swirling to her eyes
"How old are you?" Chrissy asks as she analyzes your features
"I'm only 20" you step back when they're invading your personal space but you can't help but to also understand their curiosity
"And your shirt?" Eddie gestures to your acid wash grayish nirvana long sleeve
You look down at your shirt, "Oh, they're a band from the 1990's, they're grunge era"
"What's grunge?" He piques interest as he asks again
"It's a music genre" you watch as Eddie eyes go big as he wants to learn more about the music in the future
You chuckle to yourself to his reaction, as much as you love music, there's only a few music artists that you adore today, you will always go back to the classics which where most of these kids that you are with, that's the era that they grew up
You know Eddie will be disappointed if he knew how horrible music today is
Music nowadays has lost its soul
"Do you have any siblings?" Dustin asks you again as you feel like you're being interviewed
"No, it's just me" you answer feeling tired to all of this
All of them are surrounding you and you feel overwhelmed from every question they asked
Before they can ask again and you know it will take longer than usual if you don't stop them
"Okay, guys, as much as I wanted to answer everything, y'all missing the point of why I've gathered all of you in here" you tiredly sigh as you lean your back against the wall
"Right, right" Eddie shakily runs his hair through his finger as he steps beside you which you got surprised by his sudden close to you but you brushed it off
Max nudges her head to Dustin and Chrissy to follow suit in the corner of the room
You glanced at the kids are still talking privately, you noticed that Eddie didn't stop being fidgety as you ask him politely
"You okay?"
"Hm?"
"I said if you're okay, you seem so tense"
He stares at you as he sees the genuine care in your eyes as he speaks the truth
"I-I don't know?" He sighs, "I feel uneasy ever since you told something about me in the woods"
Oh snap
You straighten yourself, "I'm sorry, that's why I just can't say outwardly of what will happen next"
He nods as he swallows the nervousness that is crawling back inside of him
"But you'll be okay, Eddie" you give him an endearing smile
A smile that is supposed to be foreign for him but it doesn't
"How can you be so sure?"
"Because I'm here"
Your small talk with Eddie has cut off when Dustin runs to talk to you
"You know about the upside down?!?"
Eddie looks at him in confusion as he shoots his eyes back at you
You glanced at the metalhead and back at the kid who is trying to pick up the pieces together or else he will blow up anytime soon
Max who is standing beside Dustin who is anticipating the answer that will come out from your lips
"Yes"
You saw the way Max's eyebrows twitched and Dustin that you swore his body took a goddamn screenshot
He is really a expressive young boy just like Steve said when you attended one of his meetings about the dark side of Hawkins
"H-How?-" Dustin stutters as his mind goes to mush as you continue to explain
"Everybody in Hawkins knew about the upside down when an earthquake happened"
"What?" Max steps forward to you as all of them look at you in shock
"Many people thought it was just an earthquake but they were wrong when the upside down takes over at Hawkins" you shift in your stance as you feel the heavy weight eating you up at the next questions that you wanted to avoid
"Is it about to happen anytime soon?" Chrissy asks and you can't miss the hint of fear in her voice
You looked directly at Eddie and to Chrissy who is waiting for your answer as you break off the eye contact at them
"I-I would rather not say"
"What's that supposed to mean?" Max exclaims as she frowns at you
You walk out of the garage, your chest heaves as you try to breath out as you glanced over your shoulder
Dustin catches your discomfort as he tries to hold off Max who is tailing behind you
You can see the heated expression on the red-headed girl, you're really trying so hard not to crumble but Max is not helping
Eddie and Chrissy looked at each other, the color from your face is gone as it turns to pale
"That is so bullshit! You came here telling us that you're from the future and now you won't even tell us what's going to happen?!? What are you trying to protect?!?" She angrily shouts at you not even caring if some of the neighbors heard it
"Max, stop being so hostile-" Dustin tried to pull her away from you so she couldn't reach you but she snatches her arm away from Dustin's grip as he groaned, he gave you an apologetic look for a second as he continues to give you some space
Chrissy can sense that you're about to explode from the way your hands starts to shake as she nudges Eddie to check on you but it was too late
"Because I know somebody died!" You turn around to face them as you yell the words that you wanted to keep it to yourself
Max's face turns to worrisome into mere seconds as if she wasn't having it moments ago
Dustin's lips were apart as he looked over at Eddie who is now looking at him in concern as Chrissy eyes stings from the tears that forming in her lashline
"W-What" Max stumbles back as she couldn't comprehend of the words that you just said
"It's March 21 1986 today and if I wasn't here, somebody else would've been dead, okay?" You sniffle as you hiccuped in your own tears
"The case was so horrendous that it's still talked about after so many years later because t-they just won't believe that Vecna did it not someone else who is innocent"
Max is dumbfounded as she listens to you
"What do you mean?" Dustin genuinely asks as he takes in your shaken state
"Somebody else got involved it and they all blamed on that person"
"it's me, isn't it?" Chrissy's voice sounds so broken as you looked at her in worry
You slowly nod as she let her tears fall, even she is scared of this revelation she managed to give you a smile, "I know why you couldn't just tell us" she wipes the tears from her face with her fingers
"Because you we're afraid if things go backwards" she adds as she nods in understanding
You heard everyone audibly gasped to this as you let the words slip right through you, "I was petrified to say it to you, so, my apologies" you shakily swipe the tears rolling down from your cheeks
"Oh my god" Eddie places both of his hands on the sides of his mouth as he looked at you and Chrissy
"I think we got enough for tonight" Dustin clasps both of his hands together as he checked his watch, it is getting so late
"Wait, before you guys go, can we meet up again tomorrow?" You ask nicely as Dustin tugs up a smile on the sides of his lips
"Sure, you could have this" Dustin walks towards you to hand out the walkie-talkie but before you can protest, "Don't worry, I have another one in my room"
"Chrissy, please kept my walkman close to you and I think you shouldn't let anyone know about anything of this because-" you carefully explain it to her until she finishes the last sentences of your words
"No one will believe it, I know" she says as she nods
"I-I'm sorry" Max softly apologizes to you as she couldn't even look at you anymore
Who would've thought you could intimidate the Max Mayfield, when she was the fiercest member of the group? even at 2024 she never lost it, you learned about her personality and you know how serious she is when it's about her protecting her loved ones
Your eyes crinkle in empathy as you looked at her as you placed your palm on her shoulder, "I know and it's alright, I mean- who am I to be believed in right? I'm just a stranger to you that just pop out of the blue" making the young girl in front of you grew a smile on her face
"Not anymore to me" Chrissy speaks up which makes you chuckle in amusement
When everyone bid their goodbye's, you're harrowing at the thought of where you could stay in for the night
When you have absolutely nowhere to go home to since you're in another time
When Eddie gets back from the gasoline station to fill up the tank from his van, he sees you distressed as you try to mask it as if you were truly okay
"Do you have any place to stay?" He asks as he enters inside to sit on the driver's seat and closes the door as he kept his eyes on you
You stare at him and you see the mindfulness on his eyes as he patiently wait for your answer
"The truth is I don't know yet but I'll figure something out"
"I ain't gonna let you travel around Hawkins at this hour especially when that V-Man is at its height"
"V-man?"
"The guy from Chrissy's trance"
You looked at him in deadpan stare as he huffs at your face as he turns on the engine, "Welp, okay, that's a bad joke-" he starts to ramble as you finally let out the cackle that is building up inside of you
He doesn't know what it is, he knows that he only knew you earlier but somehow he feels sheltered around you
He even likes to bottle up the cutest laughter so he could treasure it forever
"Wow, I made you laugh" he says as he continues watching you as he nodding along at the same time as your laughter died down
"Not to boost up your ego but you really did" you giggle as you tuck your hair behind your ear
₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ゚.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ゚.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ゚.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ゚.₊˚ʚ
"Milady" he dramatically bows to you as he opens the door for you letting you first inside
You chortled as you walked forward, "Oh"
"Oh? Is that a good "Oh" or a bad "Oh" he questions but not without the mischief on his eyes
Why does it feel natural to talk to him as if he only met you earlier? Your feelings never faltered whenever you stepped into their abandoned trailer, it's still the same whatever year it is
It feels like home
You smile as you shake your head at him, "Not a bad "Oh" you dork, I just feel....safe" you mindlessly admit it as you let your eyes roam across the room
You missed the way his eyes softens, "But pardon me for asking this, do you have a name?"
He laughs the way your eyes go big that you forgot yet again to mention your name, "It's Y/N"
"Y/N" he says your name as he nods to you
Fuck, your name sounds so good when you hear him saying it
"I'm going to get some clean blankets, so, we can both finally rest" he awkwardly almost fell down to the floor when he starts to walk backwards, sighing in relief that you didn't saw his mistake
"Okay" you say without looking at him but a amused smile is written on your lips as you got fascinated at the mug collection that is displayed on the shelf that sticks to the wall
That's where the melatonin in your brain takes you, the moment your eyes fell down to the couch
You yawn as tears begins to form in your waterline as you lay on the couch and literally passed out to a deep sleep that you can't even fight it anymore
"Thank god, I have another pair of.....clean toothbrush" he panicked slightly when he loses the sight of you but when he heard the soft snores, he clutches to his heart when he sees you laying down beautifully on his couch
Your hair is spread out elegantly, honest to god, he swore to himself that you look like an absolute princess despite the modern clothes that you're wearing
He catches himself smiling down at you and he thinks to himself "Stop being weird" he brushes at the thought that he thinks you're pretty
He carefully held your head and along with your body into a bridal style, if you're awake right now you will be absolutely loosing your marbles
The time when he's carrying you in his arms, he got himself staring at you again, you even snuggled closer to him as his cheeks burns to a deep red color to your sudden action as he gulped nervously
He had a few crushes here and there at school but they always took it down or just laugh on his face as he walks away in humiliation
But he had never
Ever had a girl in his trailer or even on his life this close
He took in a deep inhale through his nose as he softly muttered, "Get yourself together, Munson"
He left his bedroom door open as he kneels down to put you down on his bed as you immediately get comforted by the soft mattress
He curses himself out again when he noticed that he's smiling because of you, he unfolded the blanket that he was about to give it to you earlier, he tucks you in, you sigh in content
He looks at you for one last time, before he exits his room but the moment he steps away, you took his wrist making him startle, you're sleep talking
"He's not a bad person" your eyebrows furrow as if someone else is inside your mind
"Don't arrest him"
"Please, don't take him"
"He's innocent"
He listens to your pleas as he automatically rubs circles to your shoulder when he sees you crying in your sleep
His eyes went instantly large when he doesn't know what to do, making himself to be beside you on his bed as he sits up and brings you closer to him holding you tightly as he squeezes your hands for reassurance
"I'm here, Y/N" he wrap his arms around you when you couldn't stop calming down, you're shaking and murmuring every word that he doesn't understand but he doesn't care at this point
He wants you to be okay, he won't rest until you're stable enough to be asleep peacefully
When he saw your breathing steadily, he sighs as the sleep begins to cover him as well
He blinks so much to fight off the sleep to watch you if you're truly okay
"Don't leave me" it's the last thing you ever said, your voice sounds so small and broken as you hug him tight afraid that he might disappear
"I won't, Y/N" he says to you as he crashes out of slumber
₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ゚.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ゚.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ゚.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ゚.₊˚ʚ
"Honey?"
"Yeah?"
"It's for you"
Chrissy was about to climb up through the stairs heading towards her room and she nervously walk down through the telephone as she slowly raises the phone to her ear
"Hello?"
"Hey, baby, I'm sorry to wake you up, I've been trying to call you since your cheerleading practice is over at 7pm right?"
"Y-Yeah"
"Where were you? Did you got home safely?"
"Yes, The girls wanted to extend it, so-"
"Oh, that's why your parents told me you got home late this evening"
"Yeah" she starts to chip off the leftover nail polish out of anxiety bubbling up to her senses as she wants to hang up
She knows even her own boyfriend won't believe her what happened tonight, even your words didn't left her mind not one bit
"Are you okay, Chrissy?" She flinches when she heard his voice in the telephone
She even feels guilty at this point of not telling the truth to him, but he does have flaws to fill up the void of what isn't enough, he doesn't even fulfill his duty to be her boyfriend
She knows that she will be judged if she open up to his boyfriend, it's like he always say to others "Just pray to God, you will be fine" she overheard from his basketball playmates at school, she knows at some situations that he is right at that but this?
This means something else, she wanted him to be there for at all times without judgement, she wants her to accept that sometimes all we needed is someone else to listen in our life that understands us that is willingly to listen whatever is clouding up to her brain without the thought of being ashamed for it
"Chrissy? Are you there?" He asks yet again snapping out her thoughts to his voice
"Huh? yeah, I'm still here" she swallows the lump on her throat as she exhales
"Listen, uh- I think I should go"
"Of course, baby, goodnight, I love you"
"I love you too"
After Jason hangs up the phone and places back where it belongs, one of his varsity friends comes over to him
"Man, you're not going to believe this" he is absolutely surprised to this scoop that he finds out from one of Chrissy's classmates
"What is it, Patrick?" He unenthusiastically asks as he hops down at the stool to straighten himself up
"Chrissy went with Eddie Munson to his van after the cheerleader's practice"
"What?!?"
Unbeknownst to them, one of their playmates heard this as he begins to ponder of his decisions of joining this group after they just literally won the basketball championship game earlier
Why do they care so much about Eddie Munson, when they could just celebrate their win?
₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ゚.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ゚.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ゚.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ゚.₊˚ʚ
taglist <3 : @paleidiot @marsmallow433 @whothefckissofia @letsfallinlove-blog @silky-luxe @imagine-all-the-imagines @theladyasgard @mayaluvzyou
(we are here finally at chapter 2! y'all I'm so delighted to read all of your feedbacks and it's fueling me up more to continue writing! I feel so inspired because of all of you! thank you so much for supporting me and I greatly appreciate everyone of you! take care always 🥺🫶🏻✨)
#eddie munson#stranger things 4#eddie munson fic#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson fluff#eddie x fem!reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson supremacy#eddie munson stranger things 4#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson series#agirlwholovesrockstarsfics#Spotify
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Deck the Halls (and not your partner) - Part 1
Anthony Lockwood x fem!reader, enemies to lovers, fake dating, set at Christmas (because I'm feeling festive)
Word count: 3.1k
Warnings: swearing, lockwood is an arse, so is the reader, it's enemies to lovers what were you expecting really, Norrie is alive for the plot, I am British so if you're confused about words then that's why, mentions of extended family members being meanies, I think that's it?
Tag list is at the bottom (it's getting too long to put up here now), and as always if you would like to be added to/removed from it, then ask here or send me a note! <3
series master list
"Shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!"
It was safe to say that Y/n L/n was not having a good morning.
George had been watching her over the top of his paper while she paced the living room on the phone, his eyebrows changing between furrowing and raising as he tried to figure out what was happening with only one half of the conversation.
"Are you... alright?" He wasn't the best at this sort of thing, but when it came to his friends he tried to put some sort of effort in to show that he cared about them. Y/n huffed, pinching the bridge of her nose and looking like she was about to break into tears. If that happened George would have to go and get Lucy, because he definitely had no idea how to deal with Y/n when she cried. Normally he went and made her tea and plated up some biscuits, and she always accepted with a grateful smile and a lot of sniffles and let him leave again when he stood awkwardly near her, shuffling his feet on the spot.
He got the feeling that wouldn't be happening now, and he'd be held hostage instead.
"It's my mum. You know I've got this family Christmas thing coming up, right?" She paused while George nodded, taking her hand away from her face to see his reaction, then continuing on as she gestured wildly. "She seems to think I have a boyfriend, which I absolutely do not-"
"What, really?" George exclaimed sarcastically, pressing his hands over his heart in mock surprise. Y/n glared at him, looking incredibly non-threatening in her very jolly Christmas jumper. He resisted the urge to snort, knowing full-well that his friend spent most of the time complaining whenever relationships were the topic of conversation, since she couldn't understand why she was still single.
"As I was saying," another glare was aimed his way, "Mum thinks I have a boyfriend, and my aunt overheard her on the phone just now talking about my non-existent boyfriend, and it was Aunt Linda-"
"The one who gossips to everybody?"
"Yes!" Y/n jabbed a finger in George's direction, expression wild and fierce. "The one who gossips to everybody! So by now I think my entire fucking extended family and every single family friend knows that I have a boyfriend, who does not exist, and thinks that he's coming to our family Christmas in the middle of fucking nowhere!"
"I thought it was your childhood town?"
"Which is in the middle of nowhere! Genuinely nothing but fields and forests and the general countryside for miles and miles. Oh, and to top that all off, my cousin will be there-"
"The bitchy one who makes you feel like shit who you also thought wasn't coming this year?"
"Yes. Her. And Linda is her mum so Steph'll definitely know." Y/n finished, throwing herself into the sofa with a groan, turning over slightly, and screaming into a pillow.
George was about to stand up and head to the kitchen to put the kettle on (Y/n normally screamed not long before crying full-out) when Lockwood poked his head through the door, frowning at the sight before him.
"Everything alright?"
"Y/n's having a crisis. Fancy a cuppa, Lockwood?" George properly got up now, glad that another member of the household was here to deal with the situation. Lockwood nodded, then frowned again when he realised that George was escaping and shutting the two of them in a room together. Lockwood absolutely could have left anytime he wanted, but it was likely that Y/n thought he'd volunteered for the role of caretaker and couldn't leave without looking like an arse, or starting yet another argument between the two of them.
George breathed a sigh of relief, then made for the kitchen. He'd need a cup of tea in a minute when Y/n realised who was there to comfort her.
~~~
"The fuck do you want, Lockwood?"
"I- uh... what's... what's the problem?" His voice sounded pained, like he really didn't want to be in the room, and Y/n rolled her eyes.
"If you don't care, then leave," she said, attempting to hide the wobble in her voice at the thought of having to find someone to drag to her family gathering for three days, where she would be interrogated and prodded and poked and watched every second of every minute of every day, and criticised for every tiny thing she did. She was dreading it, really, but at least the third day would just be her immediate family and her non-existent boyfriend. The first two days would be filled with inquisitive relations that hadn't seen her since last year, wondering about her job and why she hadn't pursued something more stable, or asking about her love life (that was completely uneventful) and why she wasn't thinking about settling down.
Lockwood's frustrated sigh brought her out of her thoughts, and she pulled her face out of the pillow enough to see him clenching his jaw as he studied the wall with a lot more interest than it deserved. "Fine. Vent if you need to. Can I help at all, or are you going to get on my nerves until you leave?"
"Do you always have to be such a dick, Lockwood? Or are you like that because you're compensating?"
"Fuck off."
"Lovely comeback," she snapped, turning to lie on her back, staring up at the ceiling instead of at her boss' face. If she looked at him any longer she might bore holes through his head with the intensity of her glare. Neither of them said anything for a minute, the only sounds the clock ticking away in the corner, counting down to her imminent doom, and George in the kitchen making tea. "My family thing, this weekend. Everyone thinks I'm bringing my boyfriend."
"You don't have a boyfriend though."
"I know that, Lockwood. But my family think that I do have one, and now I have less than forty-eight hours to find one." She heard him snort, and squeezed her eyes shut in the hopes that it would block out his next words.
"Good luck with that. Maybe Kipps'll volunteer? He needs the free food."
"Can't you have just the tiniest bit of sympathy for me?" She pushed up, moving to sit and direct her frustration at Lockwood. "I am in a near-impossible situation here and you're being insufferable right now!"
"Maybe you should take Lockwood," George said, and Y/n jumped at the sound of his voice in the living room.
"Where the fuck did you come from?" she asked, already eyeing up the plate of biscuits on the tea tray. "Wait," Y/n paused as she properly registered George's words. "Take him?" Lockwood looked just as horrified by the idea of it, shaking his head frantically.
"Yeah. Oh, here's your tea, Y/n/n."
"What about you, George?! Surely you could come along and help me out instead?!"
"I thought I told you already, I'm going to my own family's house for Christmas. Lucy's going to stay with Norrie, and Holly's spending the holidays with her girlfriend. Lockwood's alone, in this big old house, and you've got limited time and also limited options." Y/n was annoyed at how right George was, but she wasn't giving in so easily. Not when giving in meant spending three days with the one person she despised more than anything in the world.
"Fine, if you have no other options by the time you need to leave, I'll go with you. But I will not enjoy a second of it if I do," Lockwood finally ground out, and Y/n had to fight back a look of surprise at his words.
"You- what?"
"It saves being in this house alone over Christmas. I've done that one too many times now, and at least your family will be a distraction. And," he added, "a great way to see all your baby photos." His smile was wolfish, and Y/n wondered how anybody ever found it charming.
"Alright. But I'm finding someone else, so it looks like you'll have to miss out on this one I'm afraid." Her smile was simpering, sugar sweet and sickly with how faked it was.
George looked between the two of them, then sank back into his armchair with his tea. "That's that sorted then."
~~~
It was absolutely not sorted.
Y/n was panicking. A lot. Apparently nobody fancied spending Christmas with some random agent for three days in the literal middle of fucking nowhere with her entire extended family, which was incredibly inconvenient for Y/n.
She now was supposed to be leaving in roughly two hours, and was frantically shoving the last few things in her suitcase while phoning anybody that she could attempt to pass off as her fake boyfriend.
Anybody that meant she didn't have to take Lockwood.
Perhaps if he wasn't such an asshole all the time, she'd be less reluctant, but since the first day they'd met he'd been rude to her.
It had been after a job, three years ago back when she was a solo agent taking any work that meant she could keep a roof over her head and food in her belly. Her night had been long, making her tired and weary with how much her bones ached, and she was hardly looking where she was going when she turned the corner onto her street, making her bump into a tall figure. Her first thought when the two of them stumbled away from each other was how gorgeous this boy was, and her second was how utterly awful his personality was. She had apologised before she could see his face, already muttering excuses and explaining her lack of coordination, but within seconds he was opening his mouth and talking, telling her that she should have been more alert and "could she not stand on his shoes, they're new" and she'd taken a proper look at him and decided that yes, he was pretty, but he was also not particularly nice.
Then a few months later she'd seen an ad in the paper for a small agency that had needed a new agent, preferably with strong Touch, and had chosen to go along for an interview. What she hadn't expected was the boy from that night to be the one interviewing her, and evidently he was just as shocked to see her, his expression quickly settling into a frown.
"No thank you. We don't want careless agents like you, thank you very much." His words had stung more than she cared to admit, making the backs of her eyes prick and her throat close up with emotion. She'd almost turned tail and walked out the door (something she very rarely did), but a girl dressed mostly in blue and with an excited smile on her face came in to the room, asking if this was their new recruit. Apparently the boy couldn't say no to her, or the other girl that appeared a few moments later with her clothes all neat and ironed, or indeed the other boy with glasses and curly hair who had ketchup stains on his t-shirt. Within minutes of the three of them arriving in the room, Y/n had a job at the company as an agent with a strong sense of Touch, and was being given a biscuit and a cup of tea.
She had quickly learned that the first girl was Lucy, the second was Holly, and the curly-haired boy was George, and then Lockwood had introduced himself as the head of the company.
"Don't you have... supervisors?" she had asked, confused as to just how this company worked exactly.
"No." His smile had been tight, and he had left the room right after, pushing past his colleagues and heading up the stairs. Lucy had been quick to fill in the rest, explaining all the answers to every question that Y/n had, with Holly and George chipping in when she forgot something.
Lockwood had continued his behaviour from that day ever since, despite Y/n's best efforts to get him to like her, and eventually after a few months of attempted friendship offers, she gave up and leaned into the whole hating each other schtick that was apparently happening.
So no, she did not want to have to bring Lockwood to her family gathering for three days and pretend to love him. She didn't want to do that at all.
Unfortunately, it was starting to look as though she wouldn't have a choice.
~~~
"Well? Please? Come on, I never beg for anything from you."
"I know, and I'm actually rather enjoying it."
"Prick," Y/n muttered, frowning at Lockwood. "You said that you'd do it if you had to. Well, you have to. So pack your bags and let's go; the train's in an hour."
"Fine. But I am not happy about this." He made his way back inside his bedroom, leaving Y/n stood outside the door (she refused to cross the threshold of this one particular room).
"Oh, because I am personally so ecstatic about this situation!" Her voice was thick with sarcasm, and Lockwood paused in his packing to glare at her.
"It's not my fault you couldn't find somebody to pretend to date you for three days."
"No, but I'll blame you anyway."
"Charming."
"Hmm. Hurry up."
"We've got ages, stop fretting like a mother."
"The train leaves in an hour, and it takes ten minutes to get there. Then you have to factor in maybe five to ten minutes of traffic, and difficulties getting through the gates at the station which is what, another five minutes? And then if there are any problems with the actual trains then we want to be early just in case so that a plan can be made to get a different one, and also if there aren't any problems then we at least want to be there early so that we can get on first and get a table. So no, we haven't got ages, we've got minutes before we need to go. Hurry up."
Lockwood had been staring at her in disbelief while she talked, his jaw slack and his eyes wide, but when Y/n glared at him again he went back to packing. "You really think that much about travelling?"
"There is so much that can go wrong with trains, so yes."
"Fine," Lockwood huffed, coming out of his room to cross into the bathroom, grabbing his wash bag out of the cupboard and shoving a toothbrush and flannel in. "Where's the toothpaste?"
"I've got some, so we can share. Trust me, you don't want to share with George. He's like a dragon with the way he hoards his toothpaste."
Lockwood gave her a weird look as he zipped up the bag, heading back into his room to finish stuffing items into the large bag he was taking with him as luggage. Y/n was sure he'd repurposed a kit bag for this, but if it meant she wasn't having to explain to everyone why she had failed at bringing a boyfriend that didn't even exist then she supposed she could forget about where the kit was currently being stored.
"Ok, I think that's everything," he said, running a hand through his hair as he stood up, yanking the bag up and over his shoulder. He was still in a suit, which Y/n thought was ridiculous since they didn't even have any meetings today other than the one with her family, and when they made it to the bottom of the stairs he grabbed his jacket and signature long coat. Y/n was already in her own winter coat, thick scarf wrapped around her neck and gloves poking out her pocket, her boots echoing throughout the building. They were the only two left now, since the other three had already left for their own Christmas celebrations, so Lockwood had to spend an extra minute finding the keys to lock up, and then another minute trying to put them back in his pocket. In the end, Y/n was so frustrated with how long he was taking that she snatched the keys from his hand and shoved them in the chest pocket on the inside of his coat, turning and dragging her small suitcase behind her into the pre-booked taxi.
"Sorry, he takes a while to do things every now and then. He's immensely stupid," she said, smiling at the driver as the man put her suitcase in the boot of his taxi. He looked concerned, frowning up at Lockwood where he was coming down the stairs, then nodded slightly, his expression morphing into confusion.
The drive itself was fast, and there were no problems at the station, but Y/n still couldn't help but feel that something would go wrong on their journey to her parents' house.
"The only thing that's wrong-"
"Don't say that, you bastard!"
"-is me being here."
"Oh. Well, that's true."
"Why couldn't you have just gone on your own?"
"You'll see when you meet everyone. Are you... will you be alright? I mean, it's literally everybody still alive in my family along with all of our close friends, which is near on fifty people, all in my parents' house."
"What are you trying to say?" Lockwood's expression was stony, and a coldness had come into his eyes that Y/n had only ever seen back when she was trying to be his friend and asked about his family. She had since learned that they had died when he was young, and had steered well clear of the subject afterwards.
"I just... it's a lot for me, and I do this every year. I can't imagine how awful this'll be for someone who's..." she trailed off, trying to find the right words.
"Who's family is dead?" Lockwood asked, more forcefully than he needed to.
"No, I didn't mean-" Y/n said.
"Sure," he cut her off, tone sharp and as bitter as the wind that was whipping around them. She tried to speak again, but he scoffed and turned away before she could explain what she had really meant by her words. Lockwood didn't seem to be relenting anytime soon, instead choosing to stare out at the tracks with a clenched jaw. The conversation died, and they didn't say a word until the train pulled up to the platform and they were attempting to find a good seat.
When they were finally sat down, bags secure and able to relax a little, Y/n sighed softly at Lockwood's still tense figure. He wasn't looking at her, which she supposed was a good thing because generally when he looked at her he was coming up with something rude to say. But if they wanted this to work, they needed to be talking.
And apparently, Y/n had pissed off her fake boyfriend.
Ugh, she thought. This is going to be a fucking shitshow.
part 2
Tag list (hopefully this is everyone): @anathemaloren, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @locknco, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @ran23sblog, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife
#lockwood and co#anthony lockwood#lockwood & co#anthony lockwood x reader#anthony lockwood x you#lockwood x reader#enemies to lovers#fake dating#christmas
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Contingency
Part 1
Welcome to a new series! This is my first mafia au, so I hope you all like it! It starts off a bit slow but next chapter things will really pick up ;)
Summary: You accept a job from your best friend Seonghwa getting information on Ateez's rival group, SKZ. You decide to get to the organization through one of their members: Lee Minho. You find yourself falling for him, and things get even more complicated when SKZ's resident hacker seems to have his sights set on you as well.
Pairing: Lee Know x I.N x Reader
Includes: Seonghwa being a good friend, coffee shop meetings, Lee Minho being hot
Word count: 1.5k
Taglist (Comment on a post/send an ask if you'd like to be added): @weirdowithaphone, @caught-in-the-afterglow, @palindrome969, @skzstan12345, @katsukis1wife, @tsunderelino
Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!!!
Part 2 | Part 3
Masterlist
-----
“You’re looking for a job right now, yes?” Seonghwa raised his eyebrows, leaning forward on his elbows.
You blinked. “Blunt, but yes.”
“Perfect.” A smile lit up his eyes.
It often did. Seonghwa may have been a member of ruthless criminal organization Ateez, but he was warm and sentimental and kind. Although you supposed you hadn’t seen him at his usual work of interrogations—you doubted his victims got that same side of him.
“What is it?”
“Well… it’s something for us, actually.”
You were confused. “Doesn’t Hongjoong usually keep things internal?”
“That’s…” Seonghwa cleared his throat. “That’s the issue. We can’t send one of our own. I can’t tell you too much, but Hongjoong… he’s planning something, and he wants to know how much information a certain other organization has on us. We can’t risk one of ours getting captured by them.”
“Another organization?” Your eyes widened as you realized who he must mean. “You’ve gotta be kidding. Their screening process is infamously insane. I’ll never get far enough in to get the information you need in time.”
Seonghwa shrugged. “We’re putting the offer out to a few people. You’re not the only bounty hunter we know.”
You held one hand to your chest. “Wow, and here I thought we were best friends.”
“We are!” Seonghwa took your other hand. “Ateez knows other bounty hunters, but you’re Park Seonghwa’s favorite.”
“How sweet.”
He let go of your hand to make a heart between both of his. “Anytime.”
“So… I need to find SKZ’s file on Ateez and deliver it to you? For how much?”
Seonghwa jerked his head, indicating he wanted to say something in your ear, and you leaned in. He whispered the amount, and your eyes went wide.
“Deadass?”
“Deadass.” His eyes twinkled.
“For that money, you can consider them infiltrated already.”
“There you go! That’s the spirit!”
—
You went over your plan in your head for the thousandth time as you waited in the coffee shop. You had no way of knowing exactly when he would show up, so you couldn’t be distracted.
You spotted him as soon as he walked in. Nothing about him explicitly screamed “criminal underworld”, but the way he carried himself, the subtle quality of the leather jacket he wore, the shifting of his eyes across the space as he analyzed for potential threats all told you this man was just like you—dangerous.
You knew Ateez’s papers on your target—at least the ones you’d been granted access to—could only tell you so much, but you reviewed a few pieces of information you’d gleaned from the file as you watched him get in line.
Lee Minho loved coffee; his usual order was an iced americano. He had a fondness for cats. He’d had two girlfriends in the past three years.
Lee Minho had good aim; he could shoot a man in a snowstorm at night with one bullet. He had shot a man in a snowstorm at night with one bullet.
Lee Minho had the highest kill count in SKZ.
You added one to your mental list: Lee Minho was hot.
It was self-indulgent, but it would definitely make your plan easier for you.
You looked back down at your notebook, trying to look busy as he did another glance around the room. You tapped at the binding with the eraser of your pencil, biting the inside of your lip as you pretended to focus intently on something.
As the barista called out, “Minho!”, setting down a cup on the counter, you began to pack up your things. By the time the drink was in his hand, you were standing up, and by the time Minho had made it to the door, you were walking at a brisk pace, staring at your phone intently. So intently, in fact, that you walked right into him.
He reacted in moments, his hand moving to your arm, holding it tightly so you didn’t lose your balance. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I’m—I’m good, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t—”
“No worries.” He cut you off smoothly. “No harm done.”
“You sure you’re okay?” You looked at his coffee, which he’d held away from his body. “Nothing spilled?”
“Nope. Are you okay? All… good?” His eyes darted up and down your body, and his gaze lingered on your bag for a moment too long. You knew he was likely scanning for weapons, but a piece of you hoped he was checking you out.
“Yes.” You adjusted the bag on your shoulder, and his eyes snapped back to your face. His smile was reserved, but genuine. “I’m sure I’ll see you around if you’re here often, but have a nice day.”
“Yeah, I’m here a lot. Have a good day!” You tried to be peppy. That was your persona right now: y/n l/n. A kind, good person.
He nodded his head in a goodbye, then walked out the door. You followed him out and went off in the opposite direction, satisfied with the interaction.
—
You didn’t want to take the plan slow, but you knew that you’d have to if you wanted to get all the information Ateez had requested. Minho would suspect something if you were overly clingy or moved too fast. So, the next day, you resolved not to talk to him as you set up your laptop and notebook. You’d look up when he passed your table—one you’d selected right next to the part of the bar where customers picked up their drinks—and smile sweetly, and that would be it.
You weren’t counting on Minho looking around as he waited for his americano, seeing you, giving a small smile, and walking over. You hurried to close the more suspicious tabs on your computer, despite the fact that he approached from the opposite direction.
“Hello.” He tilted his head, as if analyzing you. “You’re here again.”
“I am.” You closed the last one and turned your full attention to him. “So are you.”
“I like the coffee here, it’s better than a lot of other places, and I usually need a lot of caffeine.”
You took a sip of your own drink. “It is good. What do you need caffeine for?” It was an obvious question, and you knew the answer, but it was something an uninformed civilian would ask.
He gave a brief laugh before saying, “It’s complicated, but I do business stuff with a bank. I work a lot of late nights. What do you do?”
You fought to keep a laugh of your own off your face. He clearly wasn’t used to giving that lie, and while it would’ve fooled a random person, you knew the truth, which let you monitor his tells.
(Which were shifting his weight between his feet, speaking a little too loudly, and the immediate subject change.)
“Mm.” You said instead, nodding. “That sounds important. I’m in tech stuff. Coding.” You raised your eyebrows. “It’s complicated.”
“Is it?”
“It is.”
You smiled at each other for a moment before the barista called out, “Minho!”, and he went to get his drink. He stopped by your table again.
“My name’s Minho.” He held up his coffee. “If you couldn’t tell from that.”
“I’m y/n.” You tilted your laptop screen down. “Am I gonna see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah.” He smiled, just a bit bigger. “Maybe we can sit together.”
Something bubbled in your chest—something real. Your plan had been to start dating Minho as a ruse to get close to SKZ, breaking up with him as soon as you had the information you needed. So you told yourself the feeling was just excitement that your plan was working. It had nothing to do with Minho specifically. You’d feel this way over any plan working.
You knew you were lying to yourself, but you shushed that portion of your brain. You could not catch feelings for Lee Minho.
“I’ll save a seat for you… wait, here.” You ripped a piece of paper off one of your notebook pages and scribbled your name and number.
You knew it was unnecessarily risky to use your real name verbally, let alone write it down with your number, even if it was a burner phone. But no one you worked with or around knew it, and you’d grown to miss hearing it.
You knew it was worth it when Minho mumbled it as he read the paper. “Y/n.”
You smiled. “Yeah, in… in case you want to call me or something.”
He put it in his pocket, his eyes glinting. “Y’know, it’s pretty risky to hand out your name and number to strangers.”
You shrugged. “I don’t hand out my name and number to most strangers.”
He leaned in a few inches. “And what if I’m the dangerous kind?”
You smirked. “Then at least you’re hot.”
He gave a real laugh as he leaned away. “You’re funny, y/n. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow.”
You watched him walk out of the coffee shop, hands in his pockets.
You were glad the plan was working. That was all.
#stray kids#stray kids fic#skzdust writes#i.n#lee know#lee minho#lee minho x reader#lee know x reader#skz#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#yang jeongin#skz jeongin#skz lee know#i.n stray kids#i.n x reader#i.n skz
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CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪
(Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club series)
(strip club owner!eddie × fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!× reader)
𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ minors get out of my kitchen
Chapter 010: The Freak
A fight breaks out at the Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club.
* = somewhat smut
** = smut
↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014**, 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020*
word count: 4.4k words
warnings & disclaimers — mentions of seggs tr@ff!ck!ng, lots of blood, violence, physical altercation, profanities, glass shattering, screaming, jealousy
“I feel it coming, my soul cannot be found. I feel it coming, don’t fucking tie me down.”
♡
Eddie is glued to Nina’s hip during her orientation.
You can hardly watch. You can’t even listen. All Back of the House seems to be talking about is the fact that the cute new girl pulled up to work with Eddie. Apparently she skipped out of the passenger side of his van stoned out of her mind, waltzing in absentmindedly while Eddie opened the door for her.
Nina’s excuse was that she didn't have a ride to work. And while that may be true, your jealousy was projecting itself...hard. The times you were in Eddie’s van sitting right where she was were completely unrelated to work.
But Nina is a pretty girl. Eddie does love doing favors for pretty girls who flatter him.
You still couldn’t figure out why no one will talk about anything else. Like how Henry has evidently been spiraling into a lonely, seasonal depressive episode and could snap any minute. Or how whoever is closing isn’t sweeping the aisle all the way through. Also, one of the lights keeps flickering. Totally throws off the whole vibe of VECNA’S LAIR.
But no, the hot topic of today’s shift is still Nina and Eddie.
It's an awakening for you though. Now you really understand and have accepted that you are no different from everyone else.
Eddie’s jokes? He recycles with everybody.
Food? Makes for everybody.
Smoking and drinking in his van? With everybody.
Calls on Henry to fight off the bad guys? Yes, for everybody…
You are not special.
Speaking of Henry…he’s off task again. Luckily lunches are usually not busy so he can afford to be away from the door.
Henry is at VECNA’S LAIR with you, chatting away with Eddie’s buddy Gareth while you give Gareth a lap dance. And you can tell by the eagerness in Henry’s eyes that he’s anticipating his dance that you agreed to do for him to combat his loneliness.
“You gotta let me know how your dance goes, Creel,” Gareth grins. “Shy Girl is one of the best.”
Gareth is one of your regulars. He went to school with Eddie, played in his band Corroded Coffin when they were younger, and he also tips well. Eddie usually stays and chats with him, but today he is off and aloof, avoiding any type of eye contact with the both of you.
Screw Eddie. He’s seemed to have forgotten about you already now that there’s a new toy for him to play with.
“I love how you move your hips, babe,” Henry comments, snapping you back into reality. “And how you bond with every customer. I had no idea men pay you just to talk to them sometimes.”
“Oh, you’d be surprised,” you nod all while grinding yourself onto Gareth, hands combing through his wavy hair and trailing down to graze his neck. “Some guys just come here just to vent. Business men, teachers, doctors...”
“That’s really nice,” Henry blushes.
“Bouncers too,” you wink at him. “You know, when they’re not clocked in and supposed to be working.”
Henry’s eyes widen as he realizes, and soon he’s back up and starting towards the door. You and Gareth share an innocent chuckle about it before carrying on with your business.
"I can tell that dude is lonely," Gareth makes the same observation. "He doesn't have that many friends outside work."
"I wonder why," you ponder aloud, doing a little dance on Gareth’s lap. "He's so nice."
"From what Eddie told me, it's hard for Henry to open up to people," your patron explains. "Dude had a fucked up home life when he was younger. Dad was a piece of shit to him and his sister. Abused the shit outta 'em and their mom."
There's a pattern here. You try not to think about it.
"Anyways," Gareth says pulling out a $20 bill. "Can you give me scratches on my back? Trying to make an ex flame jealous."
"You manipulative fuck," you banter, snagging the $20 from him anyway. "I'm sure you have your reasons though."
So you honor Gareth's requests and leave some sharp etchings on his back, one large scratch in the shape of a heart.
You scan the club as you work, searching for your sister. Max is spotted near the entrance of the club, acquainting herself with Lucas and Dustin. She also met Steve earlier today and admitted to you that she has an innocent crush on him.
Of course she would. Who wouldn’t have a crush on The King?
You smile at how easy Max makes friends. She tries not to look at you while working but sometimes her curiosity takes over.
Gareth nods towards her.
"I see your sister knows the big secret now."
"Yeah, one less thing to worry about," you shrug sheepishly.
"She's supportive, I'm assuming?"
"Very."
"That's good," Gareth rubs your back. "I'm happy for you."
“Thanks,” you smile.
You catch sight of Steve next as he walks over to you. He greets you with a warm kiss and rests a hand at your waist.
Eddie watches you with Steve and Gareth, attempting to remain composed and professional with Nina as he spots her on the pole.
"What is going on here?" Steve asks you.
"I'm trying to make one of Gareth's ol' lady friends jealous," you explain. "Leaving him scratches and all."
"I love your sharp ass nails," Gareth swoons. He hands you a five.
"You are just spoiling me today,” you coo. “You can pick out my nail color next, Gare.”
"Green," Gareth answers right away.
"Yeah, I second that," Steve agrees.
Steve leans in to kiss you. You kiss him back, affectionately, relishing in how beautiful Steve always made you feel. Meanwhile, Gareth watches, running his hands softly across your thighs and muttering a soft, “fuck…”
And then you hear Eddie clear his throat closeby you.
"Jesus H. Christ," you hear Eddie grimace.
Eddie sounds uncomfortable. Good. It is not until someone else speaks that you realize he was shaken up about something else.
“Well well well,” comes a voice. “Looking just as skanky as you did when I last saw you.”
You look to see the patron standing by the entrance. He’s the scariest he’s ever looked. Your heart sinks to the floor.
It’s hard for you to find the words. “You...”
“Boo,” he grins, amused at how startled you are. “Kinda insulting that you think all these men can give you more than I can.”
“What the fuck are you doing here?” you demand.
Frantic footsteps sound not too long after, and Henry comes spilling in. He looks mortified, panicked. He had one job and he failed to do it.
“Hargrove, I’m sorry!”
“Henry!” you scold him, almost at a scream-whisper. “You weren’t supposed to let him in!”
“I didn’t know!” Henry exclaims.
“I thought Eddie told you!”
“I forgot!” Henry says. “It all happened so fast.”
“Yeah, security here sucks,” the man you’re tempted to throw something at smirks.
A crowd starts to form, which is odd because no one said anything that inherently stood out. But energy doesn’t lie. The tension in the room is noticeable.
“You can’t be here,” Eddie’s voice darkens.
Eddie makes his way down from the stage and to the front of the club, Nina watching in confusion as everyone huddled around. Eddie clears his throat and stands with his chest propped forward, chin raised along with his gritted teeth.
“You’re not welcome here,” your boss snaps.
“That’s no way to talk to a customer…”
“I know who you’re here for and you can’t have her,” Eddie growls.
Eddie looks over at you. Making his way into the crossfire, Eddie creates even more space between the two of you. Henry stays where he’s at on high alert.
“And I own this joint. So I can refuse service to anyone… Billy.”
Your twin brother flashes a dangerous, amused smile. “I see I’ve become a household name.”
Billy inches closer to you, leaving you paralyzed in place.
He looks different from when you last saw him. A lot more muscular. His beer belly is gone, and he finally shaved that obnoxious porn stache that he swore drew in all the ladies. Billy looks more satisfied at your horror than angry at who you’ve become.
A million thoughts are racing through your head. How could your brother have possibly known where you are? Did you leave your location on? Did you butt-dial him? Was it 'twintuition'?
Then you remember he's Billy. And a sociopath like Billy always finds a way to win.
“Eddie Munson,” Billy continues. “Owner of The Hellfire Club. Drug dealer. Car jacker. The town FREAK who’s notorious for sleeping with his employees before attempting to sell them into a sex trafficking ring in the outskirts of town.”
“That is SO NOT TRUE!” you hear Chrissy scream from behind the boys.
“Oh, hey Cherry!” Billy chimes. “Huge fan of your work. So is Eddie, though. And a million other men, so what makes me special huh?”
Henry is hovering, lingering between Eddie and Billy with a stance you knew all too well. The angled torso, a hand floating ready to butt in. The memories come flooding into the room in the form of burning tears against your waterline. Your throat is tight.
“How…the fuck…” you choke. “Did you find me?”
Billy flashes you his phone. Looking through his cracked screen, you see that the evidence is all on Reddit. Sure enough, there you were, doing your thing in a video surrounded by tons of men, exposing your birthmark that’s oh so similar to Billy’s.
“This girl is so fucking hot!” a Redditor comments.
“What’s her name?” someone asks.
“She goes by Shy Girl,” another answers. “Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club in Hawkins, IN.”
It’s no surprise that Billy follows the ‘stripper’ Sub-Reddit. You’ve gone viral, so of course he was bound to see it.
“Ever heard of a digital footprint?” Billy questions darkly. “Shy Girl?”
You gulp. In the age of technology, you should’ve known that your cover would be blown if you stood out well enough. How could you be so stupid?
“Oh look!” your brother chuckles. “There it is, the biggest giveaway of all. Right front and center… your birthmark."
“You win,” is all you can say. “You can stop now.”
“I’m not trying to win anything,” Billy jeers. “I’m just saying, if you had a brain, you would’ve at least thought to cover it up with makeup or something.”
Eddie looks over at you with sad eyes. It’s the first time he truly looked helpless. A part of him also looks like his own cover is blown too. You can’t help but wonder why.
“Yeah, you could say I did my research,” Billy draws on. He shoves his phone back into his pocket. “It kept me occupied on the plane. The news articles aren’t hard to find either. Hawkins is pretty small. A whole shoebox compared to Leucadia.”
His eyes dart back to Eddie. “And I’ve read up a lot about you.”
“You know the media loves to twist things,” Eddie hisses. “Especially if everything about me fits the narrative they’re trying to sell.”
Billy decides to challenge him. “So you’re saying everything is fake news?”
Eddie doesn’t comment. It strikes you odd that Eddie doesn’t even try to defend himself. What could he and Billy possibly be talking about it?
“Funny, I on the contrary believe you’ve earned your reputation,” Billy insists.
“What is he talking about Eddie?” you ask.
“Just forget about it,” Eddie shuts down.
“Yeah, forget about it,” Billy somewhat agrees. He turns to you. “You’re coming with me.”
You turn to Max. She watches, terrified as Billy ushers you in the corner. You’re too drained to fight back so you let him. But when you finally meet his eyes, Billy looks like your brother again.
“Seriously, WHAT were you thinking?” his voice shows genuine concern.
Billy sounds more disappointed now than vengeful.
“This is all because of YOU,” you snap. “I had no choice.”
“That’s your bullshit excuse?” Billy demands, eyes welling up with tears. “You’re a fucking waitress! I’m sure Benny’s down the block would’ve sufficed.”
Billy’s an asshole, for sure. But at the end of the day he’s still a multifaceted human. When the trauma doesn’t take over, he’s a level-headed individual. A clear thinker with good critical thinking skills and an ability to read the room. Something you’ve spent your whole life second-guessing yourself over.
Your brother continues his tangent.
“YOU HAVEN’T DANCED IN YEARS, first of all. The only ‘stripping’ you know is when you go skinny dipping with your little hoe friends at Black's Beach. You don’t have a permit to dance, which I’m pretty sure is illegal somehow because EVERYWHERE ELSE in Indiana requires a stripping permit. You don’t even know anything about what this industry entails, yet you cannonball headfirst into it like it’s just easy. This industry is a hotspot for sex trafficking. Millions and women and little girls are kidnapped every year and forced into sex work, don’t you know that?”
Billy nudges the ribbons in your hair.
“Child-like ribbons in your hair too. You disgust me.”
He pauses. It’s like he has an epiphany. The devilish smirk returns.
“But maybe Eddie knew that,” he tuts, waving a stupid finger of his in the air. “BINGO! With the little experience you have, Eddie must’ve known you were naive. Desperate. A little bit of a slut. Eddie knew he just HAD to get his hands on you. Take advantage of you. Exploit you.”
“Shut up.”
You knew Billy was being dumb. But what he says makes sense. And in the depths of your wounded heart, what he said felt true in a sense. Because there was a time you did feel betrayed by Eddie. Meanwhile Eddie has gone pale.
All eyes are on you now, and not for the reason you want. Sure, it’s a strip club. But never have you ever felt so naked. Never has your soul ever felt so exposed.
“Yeah…” Billy grins. It’s like you can see the gears grinding in his head. He flashes Eddie a disgusted look. “That’s exactly what it is. You know, you give me the creeps, Munson. Sure you hear that a lot.”
“You give me the creeps…Hargrove,” Eddie counters. “With how IN LOVE you seem to be with your sister.”
Eddie takes a few steps towards him to elaborate.
“Showing up to the place she strips at…causing a scene when you see her on someone’s lap… and then proceeding to tell her no one will love her like you do?”
Eddie scoffs.
“Yeah. Totally not creepy.”
“We’re family, Eddie,” Billy sighs. “Families love each other. Of course you wouldn’t know anything about that.”
“Hey, douchebag—” Steve begins but Chrissy stops him.
“Too fucking far, Billy,” you plead. “Stop.”
“You know what else I found out?” Billy smiles. “Your boy toy Eddie comes from a long line of crooks.”
Billy turns to Eddie. “Your half brother Eagan is a con man in Montauk, New York. And your other brother Ansen Wayne back in Memphis got arrested for, guess what? Arson! Funny.”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Chrissy roars again.
But Billy proceeds. “And if I’m not mistaken, your dad Al is a drug dealer who married one of his clients, your mother. And guess what? When she wasn’t bringing him any money? He pimp slapped her in broad daylight and eventually slit her throat.”
Billy looks you in the eyes when he says that.
“How tragic,” Billy breathes. “Dad killing Mom.”
Billy turns back to Eddie.
“One dysfunctional ass family. And a poor excuse of a son.”
“Takes one to know one,” Eddie spits.
Billy laughs and nods. You’re surprised that doesn’t set him off.
“I’m not entertaining this,” your brother refuses. “I’m trying to be a better person, but Munson you are pushing it. Nah, my family is where I draw the line. Come on, sis. You’re coming with me.”
Yanking you by the wrist, Billy pulls you along with him.
“No,” you refuse.
But his grip is too tight. Now you’re just along for the ride.
“I would never do anything to hurt your sister,” Eddie says, running after you both. Henry follows closely behind Eddie. “Surely that’s something you can’t say.”
“You’d never do anything to hurt her?” Billy halts challenging him with the most satisfied grin on his face. “You’d never do anything to hurt her?”
Eddie nods. Billy releases you, sending you flying forward into Max’s arms. She’s shaking when you wrap your arms around her for comfort.
“What happened to Isabelle then, Eddie?” Billy taunts him. “Court records are also public, you know.”
Isabelle. Eddie’s ex-girlfriend. How does Eddie’s ex-GF fit into Hellfire’s narrative? In your mind you always thought Isabelle was a random chick.
The whole room is silent. It’s like a wave washed over everybody. Eddie simply stands there, no visible reaction besides the look of defeat.
Something tells you something is very, very wrong. Finally, Eddie speaks.
“Don’t you EVER bring up my wife again,” Eddie’s voice is breaking. “I loved her with my whole heart.”
Your world stops. Everyone else’s keeps going.
“Your wife?” you exclaim. “You have a wife?”
Billy exudes a Joker-like laugh as he watches the lore unravel.
“Ex-wife,” Eddie corrects himself. “We’re separated.”
His gaze burns into Billy.
“Since you’re such a historian, Hargrove,” Eddie hisses. “I’m afraid you missed the part where Isabelle used me to get her hands on my business and then weaponized the fact that she’s a woman to try and tarnish it during our separation. But of course, it doesn’t feed your narrative about me so you’re purposely leaving it out.”
“That’s what you get then,” Billy’s tongue glides against his inner cheek. “For getting involved with an employee. They’re all the same. A bunch of gold-digging whores.”
It all makes sense now. You look over at Eddie. Plastered on his face is the same haunted eyes he had the night he tried to resist your advances. Now you know why Eddie was so hesitant to pursue you. He wasn’t playing hard to get. He was guarding his heart. And his business.
“So, you wanna tell us about the trafficking ring?” Billy questions.
“I didn’t try to sell her,” Eddie spat. “God dammit. Our marriage was bleeding into work so I had to send her to a different club. One I thought I trusted. But the owner stabbed me in the back also.”
“Yeah!” Chrissy adds. “He was an undercover pimp! Didn’t you read the court docs on the plane like you said?”
“He’s not exactly book smart, Chris,” Eddie smirks. “Too many big words for his big brain to handle.”
There’s nothing else for Billy to say. His failed attempt to paint Eddie as the bad guy and him as the hero did not go to plan. But as usual, Billy wants the last word.
“Stay away from my sister.”
And soon your wrists are suffocated by his grip again. You whimper in fear as Billy drags you along, angrily pulling you towards the exit while resisting your kicks and shoves.
“This is what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna go put your fucking clothes on,” Billy’s voice shakes. “Grab your shit, and you and Max are gonna come back home with me. Away from this shady bullshit.”
You can tell Billy is also terrified for you. But this is your story to write now. Not his. This is a narrative he cannot control.
“No!” you scream. “My new life is HERE.”
“The fuck it isn’t,” Billy denies. “Your life and Max’s lives are in California.”
“Are you deaf?” Steve demands. “She said no. Let her go.”
“Aw, now Walmart Ashton Kutcher has something to say!”
“Leave me alone, Billy,” you wail. “We are not going with you.”
“It’s all an inside job,” Billy is shaking now. “He’s no good for you, sis. Don’t you understand? How can you be so blind?”
“It’s my journey!” you roar. “And my life. You don’t get to control me anymore, especially since you’re part of the problem. And I’d rather be provided for by men like you than live with you ever again.”
Billy can only chuckle. “You’re delusional.”
He grabs Max on the way out.
“Max come on.”
“NO!” Max refuses.
Steve jumps in front of her and pulls her behind him. Billy rushes to grab Steve but is pushed back by Henry.
“Why are you grabbing Harrington?” Henry demands.
“Why’s he grabbing my sister?”
You’re waiting for Billy to face Henry’s wrath. He’s already trying to create space between the both of you so that you can wriggle free.
“HEY!”
To your surprise, the fist that meet’s Billy’s nose isn’t Henry’s.
“EDDIE!” Chrissy shrieks.
“WHOA MAN!” Steve screams, trying to run and stop the fight but Henry tackles him.
“EDDIE WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Dustin demands. “EDDIE, STOP!”
Billy is blindsided by Eddie with little to no time to react. Eddie gets two good punches in when he’s sprawled on top of him.
But Billy is quick to bounce back. Already accustomed to punches, Billy allows Eddie a few more blows to tire him out. When his hair gets in the way, Billy grabs Eddie by the wrist and tosses him off, hoisting himself over him to get him in a headlock.
“Son…of…a BITCH!” Eddie elbows him.
And as Billy scrunches to block his ribcage, Eddie gets him with a good left hook and a right cross-jab.
Blood splatters from Billy’s nose onto the surrounding area.
“HOLY SHIT!” Dustin shrieks.
“BILLY!” Maxine screams.
“You guys, STOP!” you order.
You rush over to your brother and attempt to pry him off. Steve rushes to Eddie and tries to do the same.
Billy’s stumbling back, unusual since he always wins fights. This is causing you to stumble back and lose your grip on him. Eddie gets a few more good punches in.
Jab. Jab. Jab. Jab-cross. Upper cut. Upper cut. And a seismic kick to the solar plexus.
Eddie Munson is strong.
“EDDIE, LEAVE HIM ALONE!” cries Chrissy. “YOU’RE GONNA KILL HIM IF YOU DON’T STOP.”
“Yeah?” Eddie mutters. “Well that’s kinda the plan.”
When he hears that, Henry stops whatever he’s doing to charge towards Billy and Eddie. You feel yourself grow lightheaded because of the amount of blood that has been expelled. You can almost smell the iron.
“Nope. That’s enough,” Henry declares, dragging your boss away this time.
Eddie has the advantage now during this time, and he uses all of it, punching Billy mercilessly into the ground. Billy tries to get up, but fails, and just when he’s not looking, Eddie sneaks a few roundhouse kicks to his head and neck.
The blood starts to pool.
“EDDIE, STOP!” everyone continuously chants.
“EDDIE, LET IT GO MAN!” Gareth begs.
“EDDIE, GET OFF OF HIM NOW!” Chrissy pleads.
“IT’S NOT WORTH IT!” Steve says to him.
“YES THE FUCK IT IS!” Eddie roars. “IT IS WORTH IT!”
The sound of glass shattering fills your ears as you look over at the boys. Henry managed to tackle Eddie in one brisk movement, unfortunately taking a small table that housed some beer bottles on it with them.
Now it smells like rust and Corona.
Gareth and Steve take over now, pulling Eddie away while Eddie cusses Billy out through his bloody nose. Meanwhile, Max rushes to Billy’s side and urges him to get out. Henry runs to her aid, dragging out your volatile twin brother so he wouldn’t harm anybody else. Billy’s out of sight now, but the thought of him still lingering in Hawkins until he sees you two again is unsettling.
“Whoa,” Steve exhales.
“What?” you ask him, crossing your arms in frustration.
“Eddie just fought someone,” he pants. “Your brother, Billy at that.”
You try to shrug it off. “Big deal,” you say. “Fights happen all the time here.”
“You don’t understand Hargrove,” Henry says, walking up you. “Eddie never fights anyone.”
You turn to face Henry.
“That’s what I’m here for,” the unscathed bodyguard explains.
———————-
The first person you go over to is Max. Consoling each other, you both hug one another and rock back and forth.
You look off into the corner and see Dustin with a tampon, trying to shove it up Eddie’s bloody nose while Nancy watches in amusement. Eddie swats Dustin’s hands away, mumbling, “Get that shit away from me” and setting for Kleenex instead.
“Shy Girl,” Nancy calls out. “Please come and get your man.”
Confused that she’s even talking to you that way, it dawns on you that Nancy is talking about Eddie. You walk towards Nancy, who is behind the bar, supervising Eddie and Dustin from a distance.
“Do you have some ice?” you ask her.
She holds up a pack she had been preparing.
“Way ahead of you love,” Nancy says.
You chuckle and thank Nancy as you take the ice from her. She gives you a nod, you’re welcome.
“He’s not my man, by the way,” you add, correcting her. “Just did something really sweet.”
“Well does his ass know that?” Nancy raises a brow. “Only a dumbass in love does shit that crazy and stupid.”
You look over at Eddie. His eyes find you at the same time. Chrissy is over in the corner with Nina, talking her down from the anxiety witnessing a fight that bloody must’ve caused her. Steve is over at the lair still, thinking. You can’t read the expression on his face.
Your grip on the ice pack tightens as you walk closer to Eddie. He gives you a nod and a terrible excuse of a wave, slowly wincing in pain after the slightest raise of his left arm.
“You are vile,” you say in his voice from the day it all fell apart. You extend your hand with the ice pack in it to him.
Feeding into your truce, Eddie looks up at you with a faint smile. He takes the ice pack in his hand.
“I prefer the term protective,” he parrots you.
———————————
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Till Death Do Us Part
Chapter 1/10
Chapter 2
Summary: On a wedding day in Baldur’s Gate, a marriage is sealed with a sanctified bond. A powerful magic that allows your minds to meld and cannot ever be undone. It is also required to share your darkest secret for the bond to be bestowed. There is a common myth passed around that once, a very long time ago, a woman was tricked into marriage by a demon of sorts and only found out when they wed. Every wedding at that moment the room falls silent, waiting for another scream, another myth making secret to be revealed. You just never thought you would be witness to it.
Series Warnings: Wonwoo x fem!reader, slight Seokmin x fem!reader (because I can't help myself), established relationship/situationship, angst, fluff, swearing, drinking, smoking, there are references to end game BG3 and spoilers for the whole game so please proceed with caution! smut MDNI 18+, unprotected sex, pet names (baby girl, pretty girl, princess), oral sex (male and female receiving), breeding kink, slight daddy kink, size kink, reader has a vagina that gets described as a pussy/cunt, slight dub-con for a second then clear consent, (more will be added as the series goes on!)
Word count: 3.5K
Author's note: Hello again! I was originally going to write this as a oneshot, but I just kept writing and writing and felt that I really wanted to try and flesh this world out. So, it's becoming a series! I cannot promise regular updates as I am in my final year of university, and start back up at my graduate job in september, but I am really enjoying writing this so I'm aiming for at least once a month, but maybe more. I do also have another series in the works which I want to post soon as well, so keep on the lookout for that one! I’ve never written anything like this before so bear with me if it’s not very good! Please enjoy, I really do hope this is entertaining for you, and have a wonderful day/afternoon/evening! Lots of love, Caitlin <3
This is a work of fiction and in no way is meant to represent the actions, ideals, or attitude of the idol Jeon Wonwoo.
Baldur’s Gate. The jewel of the Sword Coast. Granted, you never knew there was supposedly a dragon sleeping under the city before the invasion, but still. A wonderful place to live. Life here was easier for someone like you, the eldest daughter of the Apothecary Merchant. Father had spent most of the money he made to dress you in the finest of clothes, hire chefs to teach you to make the finest of meals, and ensure you were surrounded by the best trained ladies in waiting possible. Status meant everything to him, and you knew you had to marry up to please him. Being the eldest of three girls, you were schooled in house making, cooking, mathematics, business, politics- anything and everything that would endear you to one of the knowledgeable and wealthy bachelors your father was hoping to wed you to. Your younger sisters however were afforded the luxury to follow their throws of passion and learn dance, music, or geography to teach and travel. You didn’t much care for home making, your fascination with the foul words in other languages usually left your tutor giggling after you begged her to teach you them. You were smart, quick with numbers and well versed in politics and business. It was something your father loved about you. The daughter that would lift them even higher in status. You were his political pawn.
You were with your mathematics tutor when she burst through the door. Your mother, her face flushed, chest rising and falling rapidly with her heavy breaths.
“The- The King wants you to attend the ball.” She spoke. “The ball for the princes to choose their brides. He has called for you specifically.”
“Oh?” You didn’t so much as look away from your work, still toying away with the problems in front of you.
“Yes! Oh Gods girl, what are we to do with you?” Your tutor excused himself as your mother swanned towards the large windows. She was as dramatic a woman as you had ever met, and you loved her for it. Turning to face you, her dress billowed, and it struck you yet again how beautiful she was. You knew she used to be the catch; the young daughter of a cattle farmer swept into the Sword Coast by her wild fancies and taking Baldur’s Gate by storm. She married your father in a rather quickly arranged match, both being only 21 and your bump already starting to show through her clothes. She had always held a special place in your life, and the closeness in age only solidified your bond.
“You’re to help me avoid it. You know I want nothing to do with the royal family.” You raised an eyebrow, smirk playing on your lips as you turned another page in your book.
“It’s such a shame. You should go, if not for yourself but for me. It says and family and you know how much your sisters and I would love it!” Her fingers danced across the edge of the paper, twirling the red silk ribbon that used to hold the envelope closed as she read and reread the words.
“You know, there must be a specific reason they invited you. I heard only four girls and their families were invited specifically by name.” He voiced wavered, tone light, eyes meeting yours with that twinkle you knew meant trouble. Sometimes it felt like you were the parent in this.
“Will I need a new dress?” With that she squealed and swept you into her arms.
“Oh darling! You are going to love this!” Untangling her arms from around you she ran from the room and to the staircase.
“Girls! Darling! Come downstairs, your sister has an announcement!”
It was dark outside when you were finally allowed to rest. Your mother had dragged you and your sisters around every tailor in the city, eventually settling on a beautiful, glittered gown from the Facemaker’s that made it look like you were dripping in starlight. Your sisters marvelled at you, them seemingly more excited for your prospects than you were. As you stood before the full-length mirror, watching the way light danced across the dress you caught your own breath. You stood tall, the shimmering fabric laying against your body as if made solely for you. Your face now seemingly had the allure you always attributed to your mother, the colour of your eyes mirroring her own beautiful hue. It was the first time you felt a fraction as beautiful as her. That’s why you let your mother buy the dress, but you’d never tell her that.
The evening was warm as you took a book from the library and made your way to the balcony. Lighting the lamp on the table you slipped yourself onto the velvet covered seat and pulled the small blanket around your legs, hiking them up to your chest. It was here you sat, absorbed in the words of scholars until a small cough caught your attention. This was routine at this point, so you put your book down and pulled yourself from the seat, dangling a hand over the railing in front of you before leaning your head over. The man clasped your hand and smiled up at you.
It had all been an accident, you meeting Seokmin and Wonwoo. You weren’t supposed to be walking unescorted to Sorcerers’ Sundries, well technically you weren’t supposed to be walking there at all, but what Father didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. You had stopped but for a moment to watch the magic show at the front entrance when you felt a hand dip into your pockets. You grasped their wrist and turned, only to be met with a small child.
“I’m-I’m so sorry miss, please let me go.” The tiny tiefling looked terrified, eyes wide and lower lip trembling. Immediately you dropped your guard, gaze softening and grip on their arm loosening.
“Child, no need to be scared I won’t call the Fists. But let’s not go picking anymore pockets hm?” They nodded, thanking you as they scurried away. Thats when you heard the laughter. Two tall men, eyes dark and trained directly on you and the scurrying child.
“What are you two laughing at huh?” The slightly broader one cocked an eyebrow at you, and the other pointed behind you. There you saw the scared tiefling, not so scared anymore as them and their friend – who you hadn’t noticed until now – were poking their tongues out at you as they waved a purse above their heads.
“That’s mine!” You shouted as they hurried off, tails wagging and giggles filling the dark streets.
“You fell for that hook line and sinker.” One of the hooded men let a plume of smoke escape his lips and curled them into a smile. “Are you new here or something?”
“No, no. Look at her, she’s a sheltered little princess I bet.” The other said, closing the distance between you and him. You finally got a good look at him. Dark eyes, golden tanned skin, a smile spread across his face that lit a fire in your stomach. He leaned down, face now only inches from yours. “Such a sheltered little princess, aren’t you?” There was an earthiness to him, a woody smell that danced under a zesty citrus. This was no commoner’s perfume.
“Who are you?”
Wonwoo’s eyes shone from below you on the balcony, that same smile lighting that spark deep in your soul. He was intelligent, worldly, but most of all, he was kind. He climbed up the balcony as usual, pulling you into his embrace and kissing you. It was hot, fiery and passionate. It always felt like he was swallowing you whole, devouring every part of you. He pushed you backwards, lowering you into the plush of the loveseat as his body covered your own. His mouth never left yours, tongue playing against your bottom lip as you gave him entrance. He moaned, fingers running through your hair and pulling, revealing the length of your neck to him. He kissed down it, careful not to leave any marks as he did so.
“My beautiful girl, my pretty girl.” His lips left a searing trail down to your chest, his hands trailing down your sides, bunching up your dress to reach your core.
“Wonwoo, baby, we can’t. Not tonight.” It was almost useless, his lips never stopped working against your neck, teeth nipping at your pulse point. “Wonwoo, baby.” A whine left him that had a throb course through your body and set that flame burning.
“Don’t tell me to stop baby please.” He kissed you again, hands never stopping their assault on you. “Please don’t tell me I can’t play with my pretty girl’s pretty pussy.” His eyes darkened, teeth bit down harder, and you could almost feel the punctures from his canines.
“This pretty pussy has been invited to the King’s ball. This pretty pussy might have just been sold off by her ever-scheming father.” He stalled at this, hands stopping their assault and mouth leaving your skin.
“What?” His eyes were trained on yours as you swallowed thickly.
“We got the invitation today. Gods know how he did it. But he did.” Wonwoo moved off you, settling into the space beside you.
“Are you happy? With the idea I mean?” You let out a short laugh, cold and harsh.
“Happy? Why would I be happy? No one has ever seen them, been allowed near them, and what? I’m supposed to marry one of them. Be used as breeding stock. Finally put all this stupid training to use.” He laughed softly from beside you.
“You think this is funny? My life being sold off to the highest bidder and you laugh?”
“No! No, it’s not like that I promise.” His arms were around you again, pulling you into his chest. “I think there’s more to this than you know. Go to the party. You might be pleasantly surprised that’s all.” His lips were on yours again. “And no matter what happens, I’ll never let anyone else touch you the way I do.”
The morning broke through your curtains and the man beside you stirred. His chest was warm beneath your cheek as you kissed the arm draped around you.
“Darling, you must go before we get caught. Again.” He groaned, rolling the pair of you over, trapping you beneath him. That smile was back, softly lit by the warm glow of the sun pouring in through the windows. “Wonwoo, baby please.” His lips were soft against yours, pouring love into you like there was no tomorrow. His fingertips danced across your skin, raising goosebumps in their wake. He rolled his hips into you, want evident at the broken gasp that left his lips. “Wonwoo baby.” You moaned out, fingers moving to his shoulder blades. He rolled his hips again, the slickness of your cunt allowing for him to rock smoothly and bump his cockhead into your clit. “Wonwoo, we can’t.” But your body gives you away, the roll of your hips as you shake beneath him has him lining up instantly.
“Princess, say no right now and I won’t do it. But say yes and I’ll give you a baby. I’ll fuck you so full it has no option but to stick. You’ll be mine.” Your lips chased his as you nodded frantically against him.
“Yes Wonwoo, yes yes yes.” He pushed in, cock stretching you as you raked your nails down his back. His thrusts were deep, angling his hips to hit that spot inside of you.
“My princess wants a baby yeah? Wants me to fuck her full?” He growled into your ear, hips smashing into yours.
“Please, wanna make you a daddy.” You purred back. His hand snaked between your bodies, fingers rubbing circle after circle into your swollen clit as you arched up into him. He never stopped kissing you, never stopped whispering praise into your mouth as you came around him.
“Please Wonwoo, want you to fill me up. Please.” You dug your nails into his skin, drawing a hiss from him. He’s panting, sweat lining his forehead as he thrust into you again and again, bringing you to orgasm over and over until you couldn't take it anymore. He pushes you over the edge again and again, having you crying his name into his mouth over and over as you beg for him to finish in you, mark you as his.
But he doesn’t. He pulls out as he always does and finishes onto your thigh. It’s over then, the light shifting to a cold blue as the sun shifts behind a cloud. He moves away from you, gathering his clothes and dressing.
“When will I see you again?” He pauses, eyes meeting your own.
“You won’t see me like this for a while. At least, not this version of me.” You don’t know what that means, but he doesn’t give you any time to ask as he kisses you again so softly. His hand caresses your face, thumb rubbing your cheek as a tear falls from his face and onto yours. “But you will see me again, I promise.” As he pulls away, he places a final kiss on your forehead before stepping back towards your balcony. You let him go like you always do, but not without that horrible hole ripping through your chest.
The night of the ball drew closer, and there was no sign of Wonwoo or his brother. You were alone. The lessons ramped up, your father wanting there to be no chance of failure. You were his pawn, and he was so ready to make that final check. Your mother tried to get through the walls you put up, your sisters gushed every day about how lucky you were, how you were going to have the life of your dreams. But you weren’t. You wouldn’t be with Wonwoo. Wouldn’t be able to kiss him again, wouldn’t be able to hold him. You’d never be able to make him a dad.
“Your invitation madam?” Your mother was positively glowing with excitement, your sisters each hanging off one of your arms, you suspect to stop you from running. Your mother presents the invitation, and the guard cocks an eyebrow. “Please, this way for special guests.” You were escorted towards a separate entrance, a large pair of white wooden doors beset by giant boars on each side. The doors were parted for you, and the entrance was the most beautiful you’d ever seen. You were ushered inside, your sisters gasping and pointing at the artwork lining the walls. But your eyes were drawn to the three other girls.
“They’re your competition child.” Your father pulled you aside from your sisters and scanned you from head to toe. “But you’ve got a brain to best all of them. Be smart, be strong. Be the girl I raised you to be.” You glanced back over to them. Each one you knew to be a member of one of the aristocracies, as you were. You vaguely remember having a run in with the half-elf, but if she remembered you, she gave nothing away in the cold gaze she returned.
“If everyone is now here?” A voice sounded from the stairs above you. Your eyes followed where it was coming from, and the woman you saw standing there was the most beautiful you had ever seen. Dark eyes, with even darker hair cascading down her back that held soft curls that bounced as she began to walk towards you all. You had never seen this woman before, but something pulled at you from your stomach as if you recognised her.
“You are all chosen specifically by the princes themselves. My sister's sons wouldn’t allow for our intervention, so feel very lucky. Some of you would never have made it this far.” Her eyes fell on you at this, and your father bristled beside you. “Now, if you’ll follow me.” She sauntered towards the large doors across the marbled floors. You moved to follow the queen's sister, silently cursing yourself for not recognising her as your legs pulled you along before your brain could think of a reason to turn and run. She demanded that the girls line up, manhandling you all into a line with you left on the end. Your families were to follow along behind, and not say a word.
There was a commotion behind the doors, music filled whatever room you were about to be ushered into and laughter and conversations could barely be heard through these giant doors. You tried to smooth out the non-existent wrinkles of your dress, hands moving on their own as you chewed on your bottom lip.
There was a moment of silence before the doors swung open, and an even longer moment of silence when all the eyes in the ballroom fell upon you. Your gaze flitted from person to person, not a single face you couldn’t put a name to. Families with daughters much better suited for this match burned holes into your skull from jealousy. You were standing there, with the whole world at your fingertips and their daughter wasn’t.
You were ushered down the steps before you, the sea of people parting as the four of you made your ways forward. Your eyes were on the floor as you had been instructed to do so, never for a second daring to look upon the men sitting at the other end of the ballroom.
“This is the half-elf Carmae of the Boat Merchant.” You were right about recognising her then.
“This is the high elf Dauphine of the Gold Merchant.” You heard her light steps, the small “Hello sirs.” that sounded so beautiful falling from her lips as she greeted the men.
“This is the wood elf Avalynne of the Cloth Merchant.” You were next.
“This is the human Y/n of the Apothecary Merchant.” You stepped forward, curtseying as you were taught, eyes moving up to acknowledge the men before you.
“Hello sirs-“ Those eyes. That smile. Wonwoo sat before you, hand rested on his chin as he surveyed you. You felt a churning in your stomach as you let your eyes fall upon Seokmin beside him. His soft curls sat upon his head as he smiled ever so softly at you.
“We can now begin.” The music started up again as the crowd of people swallowed you up. Your sisters beamed at you as people swarmed you. They wanted to know where you got your dress “The Facemaker.” You politely replied. Who did your hair? “My mother wanted to.” You smiled at them. You were pulled from conversation to conversation. Every family wanted a piece of you. But your mind was back on Wonwoo. Your heart calling out to him across the floor.
His eyes followed you, dark and cold like you’d never seen them before.
“Wonwoo, calm down. She’s yours I’m not going to take her.” Seokmin leant over to his older brother, giggling slightly at the older man’s demeanour.
“I know you’re not. But they might.” He followed his brother’s gaze to the men being introduced to you by their fathers. “It seems like being the prince’s chosen gives a girl a certain…” His eyes scanned the crowd of men now surrounding you. Your father ever so keen to get you introduced to as many of them as possible. You were trying to be amicable, that soft smile on your face hiding the discomfort you felt. The burn of jealousy coursed through his veins as he watched you laugh and smile at these fools. If only they knew what he’d done to you, the noises he could pull from you with just his tongue or fingers. The way you beg him to cum in you, the tears in your eyes as he fucks you through another orgasm. You’d be too much for those idiots, they couldn’t make you feel how he did. Couldn’t make your body react the way he did.
“The princes will now have their first dance with each of the chosen.” Wonwoo and Seokmin stood, and the floor was cleared again. You finally found yourself walking back towards the man who held your heart in his hands and smiled. Wonwoo noticed that it finally reached your eyes.
“It is lovely to meet you Y/n.” He placed a soft kiss against the back of your hand.
“It is my honour sir.” You smiled even wider this time as he drew you closer as the music began.
“I hope you’re a good dancer.” He flashed you that dazzling smile once more as the music began up again.
“I hope you are too sir.” You felt the flush creep up your cheeks as the two of you started to dance. Your eyes glued to his as he led you across the floor, his never once leaving yours. You finally got what he meant that morning. While this was a surprise, you’d help him play the part for as long as it took to get your Wonwoo back.
#seventeen#svt#seventeen wonwoo#svt wonwoo#seventeen wonu#svt wonu#wonwoo#wonu#jeon wonwoo#jeon wonu#wonwoo smut#seventeen smut#svt smut#svt x reader#seventeen fanfic#svt fluff#seventeen fic#seventeen x reader#seventeen x y/n#seventeen x you#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo x you#wonwoo x y/n#seventeen royalty au#svt royalty au
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A Crown fit for a God (Part 5)
Part 4
Pairing: Azriel x Fem Reader
Ch Summary: Elain tries to hold on to whatever relationship she and Azriel have left. Will he submit to her desires? Or seek you out instead?
Or
You accidentally discover what the inside of a cell looks like.
word count: 4.3k
Ch warnings: SA (groping, not graphic and no p in v), thoughts of murder, drugging, cheating (don't worry), slight pregnancy talk.
Series warnings: 18+ MDNI, SMUT, mentions of SA, angst, hurt/comfort, war, murder including injuries, fighting, no use of y/n, nicknames, magic, greek mythology, pining, jealousy, soft Az with a little temper, azriel with other women (sorry), reader with another man (get it friend ; )
A/n: I had something totally different planned but decided to take this little detour. Lol. I believe after this chapter we will see more of Azriel and reader interactions. I think. Idk. maybe. I'm a daydreamer not a writer so if you see any mistakes that's how I dreamt it. Lol
The following day Lucien had gotten into a fight with Eris, what was at first a screaming match turned physical, as fists flew left and right. Both males stubborn in their decision, Lucien adamant that he already had planned to run away with you to the Spring Court and Eris tried to explain that a life on the run was no life at all. He promised Lucien you’d be well taken care of and that you’d be a wonderful High Lady when the time came. “No! I’d rather die than watch her marry you.” Lucien roared, angering his brother even more. “We will leave in two days' time and you will not seek us out.” Two days. Eris had two days to figure out how to make you stay.
If Eris was to be the next High Lord he’d have to do dishonorable things to get what he wanted. This was the first of many. “Gods forgive me for what I'm about to do,” he whispered to himself as he mixed the sex pollen into the cake batter. He placed the round tins in the oven, just like his mother had shown him many times before. Once the cake was frosted and decorated he hand delivered it to an old friend he hadn’t seen in a long while.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Once again Azriel watched as you walked away, a lone shadow ordered to follow and keep you safe trailing behind you. Shame filled his guilty heart. He had never acted this way before, not with Mor or Elain or any other female he had in his bed. It was foolish to judge you when he’s had more than enough partners in the 500 plus years he’s been alive.
Was he going to apologize by fetching you contraceptive tea from The Night Court, so you could sleep with someone else, while he pinned after you?
Yes. Yes he was, and he certainly wasn't thrilled about it.
The following morning you stumbled upon a small box on the front steps of your cottage; adorned in navy wrapping paper and secured with a golden bow. A small note was attached along with a violet flower, its stem carrying bulb-like flower buds waiting to bloom and berries as black as the midnight sky. You recognized the plant as Nightshade.
My Queen of Death,
I hope you’ll find it in your heart to forgive my ignorance. I'm ashamed that I've allowed my jealousy to transpire into hurtful words. Words that no female should ever hear and I truly apologize for judging your actions when my own are not very admirable. I realize that actions speak louder than words and I aim to show you just how sorry I am.
Yours, Azriel
A small smile pulled at your lips as you unraveled the bow and looked inside the box. Three jars of finely crushed herbs, each labeled individually accompanied by a beautifully crafted infuser were neatly placed within the box. Along with healing salves for your wounds, and seeds to grow your own Nightshade.
“What is that Fawn?” you didn’t hear as Eris winnowed to the cottage, his glare immediately finding the gift box in your hands. You had two options: lie and say it's just tea from a merchant or tell the truth and enrage the future heir. You were no coward, “It’s contraceptive tea from The Night Court,” you declared with not a hint of hesitation. Eris clenched his hands in a fist, taming the lingering flame that threatened to burst free in his rage. His nostrils flared in distaste for your actions. You knew the plan was to pretend to marry Eris and produce an heir, granting his fathers wishes. Somewhere along the way those pretend lies blurred into truth, at least for Eris.
“Who did you get the tea from?” he asked, deeply inhaling the air around him, scenting for another male. Thank the Gods you had glamoured your scent, “My friend gifted it to me.”
“You don’t have friends, I need a name now!” He seethed, clenching his jaw in anger.
You scowled at him, turning your back to him with the gift in your hands, heading back into the cottage. When he suddenly reached over, snatching the note from your hand.
“Hey!”
“My Queen?” He questions, reading over the note in a mocking tone and a furrowed brow, “your Azriel?” Eris smugly chuckles, "My Gods he really does know how to work the females doesn’t he? He doesn’t want to be your friend Fawn, he just wants to fuck you. I bet that's the reason he got jealous wasn't it?” He states, crumbling the note in his fist and setting it on fire with his magic. When he opens his fist again a small amount of ash floats to the ground.
Eris had done what he always does. Place doubt in your mind that no one would ever want you more than a fuck buddy and no one has ever been friends with a Death God. The others were locked away in the prison, the weavers cottage, and the lake. Soon enough the other High Lords would come to know of you and your powers and lock you away like the rest.
“You're right, but I still want the tea.”
Eris stalks closer, taking the gift from your hands, “I’ll get you some new tea. This one probably has sex pollen in it. You can never trust the males of The Night Court. I’ve already told you, they share their females. And you're too precious to share.”
Eris throws the box over this shoulder, setting it aflame before it even hits the ground.
He wraps his arm around your shoulder, walking you inside the cottage, “Mother requests you at the Forest House. She wants you to wear a dress to Helion's celebration.”
~~~~
Azriel thought about your last words to him and it hurt him to admit you were right. No one had ever loved him. At least not as deeply as your love for Lucien. He wondered what your love would feel like. Would it be as fierce as you were, with power surging through your veins? Were you a hopeless romantic where you’d hold his hand and kiss him in the middle of the street on the rainiest day of the year? With how he was acting, that idea seemed so far off. So far each encounter with you was met with his illyrian ways of being a territorial, possessive, jealous male. He was man enough to admit he was jealous, Lucien had a piece of your heart, if not now then before. He had no right to be jealous, he was sleeping with Elain afterall. A situation he needed to end once and for all.
His curiosity was heavy enough to seek out the male and question the depths of the relationship. Not long after he landed back in Velaris, he found himself knocking on Lucien's apartment door, hoping to catch up.
Lucien opened the door and he immediately regretted it. He wasn’t exactly fond of the illyrian who had been sleeping with his mate. Knowing very well Azriel’s appetite for beautiful females. He’d figure once he grew bored of Elain he’d find another female to bed and another and another, leaving those poor females a shell of their former selves. Lucien had no patience for small talk and he wasn't exactly interested in what the shadowsinger had to say, “whatever it is, I don’t care.” Lucien moved to close the door in Azriel’s face, unamused with the sudden visit.
“Wait!” Azriel pleaded, hand splayed over the door that was about to close on him. “I’m not here to talk about Elain, I’m ending it with her today. I’m here to talk about Khaos.” Lucien sighed, letting the shadowsinger enter his apartment. “Is she safe?” Lucien's worried eyes scanned Azriel for any hint of deception. “Yeah, she's safe, I just wanted to know how she was with you and now Eris. More importantly, what happened between you two? ”
Azriel walked over to Lucien's couch, Mid bend to make himself comfortable, “don’t sit. I don’t plan to entertain you,” Lucien spat, crossing his arms over his chest. Azriel let the weight of his body plop down on the couch, arms stretched wide across the back cushion. His unwavering stare indicating he would get the answers to his questions. Lucien gritted his teeth in annoyance, “ I’m not telling you shit. What happened between us, remains between us.”
Azriel nodded, understanding his hesitancy to give any details regarding a former lover, “It’s just that I’d like to get to know her bett-”
“Haven’t you had your fill?" Lucien interrupted with a scowl, “must you take every female that I love?” He scoffed. “You don’t even deserve to breathe the same air as her.”
There it was, his opening. Exactly what he was hoping for. Azriel didn’t hesitate in prodding further.
“If you loved her, why did you leave?”
Lucien shook his head, running his hand through his long locks, “No, not past tense. I still do. I’ll always…” Lucien swallowed, he couldn’t finish that sentence, it hurt too much. Azriel narrowed his eyes, Gods, he still loved you he thought to himself. He knew his next words would reopen a healed wound, but he needed more. “You love her so much you let Eris fuck her too.” Azriel internally flinched at how tasteless the statement was.
Lucien winced at the Shadowsingers clear attempt to rile him up, those crude words grating against his heart, “Get out!”
Azriel smirked and threw his mud covered boots on top of the coffee table, rattling the few cups that lingered. Crossing his legs at the ankle, “the faster you tell me what I want to know, the faster I'll leave.”
Lucien rubbed the space between his brows and let out an annoyed groan. His gaze fixed on a burgundy cloak that was thrown over an armchair. A cloak that once belonged to you, after all these years he still held onto it. Lucien's eyes glazed over in sadness as he recalled the reason he left, “after my father wished for Eris to court her, I tried to take her away to The Spring Court so we could be together. I went to our friend Jesminda's house to say my goodbyes. She invited me in for cake and tea, one thing led to another and I made the biggest mistake of my life. I couldn't tell her, so I left for Spring alone. ”
“You cheated on her?” Azriel asked.
Lucien nodded, clearing his throat from the knot of emotion that threatened to break free.
“You’re a fucking coward,” Azriel glared as he stalked towards the door, “she thinks the world of you and you couldn’t even tell her of your betrayal.”
He opened the door to the apartment, leaving Lucien to sulk in misery,
“You said I don't deserve her, but it’s you who doesn't deserve a place in her heart. I’ll make sure she knows of your cowardice and infidelity.”
Azriel slammed the door behind him and as he walked away he heard the cries of a wounded fox, shattered to pieces by a guilty conscience.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You stood in front of a full length mirror, its reflection one you didn't recognize. Your eyes lacked the stars that once circled your pupils, your once moon like orb was no longer crisp and bright. No longer did you look like a God that brought blood and gore to those who deserved a painful death. How did the Goddess of Life succumb to a female with nowhere to go but beside her betrothed. To obey his every wish with a smile on your face. Only speak when spoken to and never voice the thoughts that lingered beyond those of dresses and motherhood.
Was your life to be on your back while Eris spilled his seed inside you, producing heir after heir until your very womb decayed. “Aos? Which color would you like the dress?” you shook your head, riding yourself from your detached thoughts. You met the eyes of Auren through the mirror, a seamstress tasked with measuring you for Helion’s Celebration. “Blue would look lovely, Thank you Auren.”
“The Prince is wearing a deep cadmium red, it be wise to match with the future heir.” Auren explained as she struggled to wrap the measuring tape around your waist, placing her finger against your body, noting the inch at which her finger fit snugly against your skin. “Make it a royal blue Auren, it reminds me of home.”
Her heavy breathing took you out of your thoughts and your eyes widened at her swollen belly, the reason for her struggle to reach around you. “Oh Auren, I didn’t realize. It’s not polite to comment-”
“It’s alright really, just got harder to bend and move,” she laughed, rubbing her round stomach soothingly. You beamed as she cradled the life that was growing inside her. A warmth so familiar bloomed inside you. You knew all too well the reason pregnancy was difficult in the fae lands, ever since you fell from the sky procreation had severely diminished. Not forgotten or misplaced just pointless in a cruel world. You couldn't say you had nothing to do with it, you had everything to do with creation. So it was quite a shock to see Auren pregnant, “a miracle really. Congratulations Auren, you make a wonderful mother.”
“It’s always been a dream of mine. Thank the Gods for this fertility tea.” She took a sip from her cup and as she set it down you glanced inside, “whole nuts?” you questioned with a raised eyebrow. “Mhmm, it tastes gritty when they’re crushed down to a powder.” She grimaced as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
“Gritty?”
Weekly dinners with the Vanserras, you were served tea.
It couldn’t be.
It was.
You paled.
~~~~~~~
At dinner everyone moved around you carrying their conversations like you weren’t slowly dying inside. Like you were invisible. You sat unmoving, hands clasped within your lap as you burned a hole into the mug that accompanied your dessert. How long had you been drinking that tea? How long were you going to pretend to be Eris' lover? How long were you going to put on this mask of compliance and docility, when in reality you could rip the flesh from their bones with a blink of an eye. Slaughter each and every member of the Vanserras without a single ounce of remorse.
The more you dwelled on it the more plausible it seemed. Yes, you’d remove them all at once with the snap of your finger. Each death exactly the same as the next, painful in the way they’ve caused pain to others. No, tortuous. Starting with the slow removal of each fingernail, pulled directly from the nailbed followed by severing each finger until nothing remained of their hands but a bloody useless paw. You wouldn't stop there. Next you’d remove their feet below the ankles, better yet, below the knee, so that to move they'd need to drag their meat sack of bones across all the painful textures of the land. Each and every pull against the earth would reopen thin healed skin, leaving trails of crimson blood mixed with pus and torn flesh.
The cries of a once feared family would bring their citizens out only to shriek, and gasp in horror at the sight of the disfigured thing. As a mercy you’d allow them to keep their eyes and ears so they’d hear each vulgar degradation aimed at how mutilated and disgusting they looked, visualize the moment they made someone so ill all that could be done was vomit the contents of their stomach. No one would pin it on Eris if he was among the deformed. Though you weren’t so cruel, they did help you somewhat. Provide you with shelter, food, all the means that you’ve needed to survive thus far. Asphyxiation would be painless, you smirked.
Eris placed a panicked hand to the base of his throat, glancing around the table at his family; he noticed their glossy widened eyes. Their mouths hung open in a silent scream, opening and closing like a fish out of water, gasping for a breath of air. Utensils clattered to the ground as Lord Beron attempted to stand only to stumble clenching the table cloth for fear of falling. Eris’ amber gaze landed on your morbid stare. Eyes cloudy and pale with the promise of death in their unfocused glare.
The room spun round and round although he remained seated, knuckles white from gripping the wooden table. He felt himself slowly losing consciousness, the lack of oxygen to his brain pulling him under, a swipe across his nose made him nearly pass out as he felt blood drip down, coating his lips. Eris chanced one last look into the soul of beautiful death and found your lifeless eyes already claiming his beating heart.
With a last ditch effort to reclaim his soul he struggled through the pounding inside his head. Placing a trembling hand against your thigh, conjuring the remaining power he had into a lick of flame. Burning against your thigh brought your thoughts back to dinner. Those heterochromia eyes morphed into the vibrant colors of the galaxy with a single blink. The sharp inhale of air surrounded the table as your mind released them from the claws of death's grip. “Must be the tea,” you challenged, voice dripping with insolence as your cold eyes met those of Lord Beron. “We’ve been poisoned!” Eris's younger brother Janus reported, pouring out his cup of tea showcasing the darkened goop that splattered to the ground. Eris’ gaze traveled from the cup to you and back again. A look of shock and hurt in the way he studied your indifference. Once everyone cleared the dinner table, Lord Beron ordered the guards to sweep the halls for a breach and check the tea imports for tampering.
~~~~~
You made your way to your bed chambers when a rough hand tightly gripped your arm; shoving you against the stone walls with enough force to knock the sense out of you. Lord Beron lowered his mouth to your ear so no one else could hear his vile words. “If I have to chain your legs apart and force him on you, so be it! But you will let Eris fuck a babe into your pathetic cunt!” He snarled, voice dripping with the rot that plagued his evil soul. You stared at the grip he had on your arm, a bruise in the shape of fingertips already forming around your bicep.
“Threaten me all you want-"
The back of Lord Berons palm landed across your cheek with an audible slap, whipping your face so hard you stumbled to the floor. Your fingertips sparked with electric current, adrenaline running through you, tempting you to act, to destroy everyone that got in your way. And Lord Beron would be the first to witness your fury. Defiantly, you stood to meet his stare, chin held high with pride, “I bow to no High Lord.”
Lord Beron didn’t bother to strike you as he signaled for a guard to escort you below. Where they kept their murderers, thieves, and those that needed a reminder of who their High Lord was. Lord Beron didn’t know how powerful you were since you kept most of your magic to yourself and those close to you, so it came as a shock when a stainless steel collar dipped in faebane was locked around your neck, made to look like a simple necklace with the only key belonging to High Lord Beron.
You were dragged down the cold halls farther than you knew existed, down a spiral of stone steps, passed the cells that housed the criminals of Autumn and last through a hidden wall disguised as an unassuming bookcase. Your heart rate spiked as you realized this area was one you had never seen before and it worried you that maybe that was the point. You tried to summon your magic despite the collar releasing its poison onto your skin, but with nowhere to release the rage, the opposite happened. Your power turned to its host and acted like a sedative, pulling you into a sleep-like state.
In your near-unconsciousness you didn’t feel the rough hands of a guard help himself to the curves of your body, groping your breasts and grabbing your ass before he kneeled at your feet, shackling your legs apart just as Lord Beron promised. The guards were instructed to not penetrate you but that didn’t stop them from standing around your cell to gawk and fist their needy cocks to the sight of your spread pussy.
~~~~~~~~~
Azriel breathed a sigh of relief as he entered his room. A welcoming comfort no one could grant him, except perhaps you.
He neared his four poster bed, large enough for his wings and a lover or two. Just as he was about to throw himself onto its pillowy top a sweet scent engulfed him. Too sweet for his liking and definitely not your scent. As he looked to the illuminated light escaping the bottom of the bathing room; Elain emerged from a cloud of steam, casting her in a hazy glow. Azriels eyes trailed the length of her nude body, drops of water tracking down her thin legs.
Azriel couldn't deny what a beautiful female she was, both inside and out. He was lucky to have been with her no matter how short their fling was about to be. What Elain assumed was lust in Azriels eyes was actually reflection. Seeing her bare before him reminded him of what she offered time and time again. Her physical body. He knew that's not all she had to offer, deep down she had goals to be met and hobbies that he didn't understand, but physical intimacy is what she offered to him.
Azriel couldn't believe he had gotten to the point where sex was no longer enough. He wanted more. He wanted it all. He wanted that body, mind and spirit love. A soul connection so deep not even death would be able to pry his heart away. He felt it in his bones that that connection was not with Elain, so he’d decided now was as good a time as any, to let her go.
Without another glance Azriel walked to his closet, which held an assortment of her clothes. He pulled out her favorite pink robe, and draped it over her shoulders. Elain took the hint and tied the robe around her body at the waist, covering her completely. The act alone brought her to tears as his rejection flooded her with shame and embarrassment.
“Who is she?” Elain muttered, crossing her arms over her stomach in an attempt to hold herself together. Azriel shook his head, a soft sigh leaving his lips.
“Did you sleep with her?”
“No. I wouldn't do that to her - to you,” he shook his head, “I wouldn't do that to you.”
“Do you want to sleep with her?” Elain asked with a wobble in her throat, not sure if she could handle his answer.
Azriel turned his back on Elain and placed his hands on his hips. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he hung his head. Yes, he did want to bed you, but more than anything he wanted to hear the sound of your soft breathing as you slept nestled against his chest. He wanted to trace the beauty marks along your back and see how many constellations adorned your soft skin.
“Azriel!”
“Yes! Is that what you wanted to hear? He snapped.
“NO! I want to hear that you love me, not that you want to fuck someone else!” Elain sobbed, her tears freely flowing down her cheeks. “It’s her isn't it? The one you’ve been looking for all these years? The female you said I shouldn't worry about?” Elain continued to wipe away her tears.
“I never meant to hurt you, and for that I’m sorry. If there's a chance that she’s who's destined for me then I have to explore that. You know how much I want what my brothers have, that special someone made for me!” Azriel sat on the edge of the bed, running his hands through his wavy hair.
“I thought I was made for you Az?”
A scoff leaves Azriels lips, “you were made for Lucien, he's your mate Elain, not me.”
Elains stunned silent. The truth of his words piercing her fragile heart, “but I chose you.”
“And I’m choosing her.”
“Azriel, she's a Death God,” she pleads, kneeling in front of him with her hands on his knees, “she’s threatened Velaris and Rhys hates her. You met her one time as a child. You don’t know her!” she yelled, hurt laced in her words as she tried to make sense of his actions.
“I want to get to know her!” Azriel yelled back, standing abruptly from his position on the bed, making Elain stumble slightly, catching herself with her palms on the floor.
“I’m sorry, this thing between us. It was never –”
Azriels shadows interrupt him as they swarm the room, darting erratically from side to side in alarm. Goosebumps form along his arms as they whisper in his ear, ‘In trouble, hurry.’ Azriel didn't need to ask who was in trouble. Somehow he could feel your despair in the pit of his stomach. You needed him and he would go to you. However far you were, he would walk miles to reach you, fly through the toughest storms to be by your side. Risk his own life if it meant you’d survive to see another day. Without another word he raced out of the house, leaving a broken hearted Elain to pick up the pieces of her fractured heart. He couldn’t be there for her any longer, not when his heart was calling out for you.
A/n: I’ve had a crazy week with my daughter being sick and planning her birthday party. I expect the next ch to take me some time. As always thank you so much for reading and for your sweet comments.
Taglist: @blackgirlmagicforever @going-through-shit @dr4g0ngirl @mybestfriendmademe @isa1b2h3 @julesofvolterra @scooobies @thisblogisaboutabook @lilah-asteria @glitterypirateduck @acourtofbatboydreams @5onedirection5
#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel x fem!reader#azriel x y/n#azriel shadowsinger#azriel spymaster#azriel fanfic#azriel angst#azriel#acotar#acotar x reader#acotar fanfic#acotar fanfiction#acotar imagine
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your whole life you’ve been told to avoid the forest because of the wolf like beasts that live there. never would you have thought that it would be the beasts that came out of the forest to you.
part 1/?
pairing: aizawa x gn!reader
word count: 2k
warnings: guns, dead animals, parent death (non graphic), future smut
a/n: dividers by @/cafekitsune and the banner picture is from mark chance photography 🫶🏻 this will be my first series and I am very excited about it! i hope you guys enjoy this first chapter ❣️
when you were a child, the grass in the field just before the forest was almost as tall as you were. it was your favorite place to play, despite the disapproving looks from the town elders whenever you’d come back with wildflowers clutched in your hands. you weren’t the only child who played in the field, but you were the only one who got so close to the forest.
the field was a gorgeous sea of bright green, with pinks, purples, blues, and yellows sprinkled throughout like the colorful fish you saw in the ocean the time your papa took you out on his boat. perhaps it was because they were so close to forbidden territory, but the biggest and prettiest flowers were just by the edge of the forest, where the field was shadowed by tall trees.
that was were you found yourself today. your papa had been sick recently, which in turn made your mother sad, and you knew that they both loved when you brought them flowers. even when they were scolding you for going so close to the forest, they couldn’t quite hide their smiles when faced with your gift of love.
this day, you were so focused on finding the best flowers that you didn’t even notice whenever the birds stopped chirping and the air turned still. you didn’t notice the boy until he was right in front of you. he finally gained your attention by holding out a daisy towards you.
startled, you jumped back. surprised by your reaction, he did as well. for a few moments you both just looked at each other in shock. he was tall and gangly, most likely entering his teenage years by the way he towered over you. (though, at only eight years old, everyone towered over you.) memories of your papa telling you the stories about the beasts that lurked in the forest flashed through your brain. gnarly canines, clawed hands, and a hunger for flesh is what he described them as. this boy was just….dirty.
he was covered in dirt, like he had been rolling around in it before coming to you. his dark hair dangled past his ears, choppily sheared off at the chin. his eyes were bright when you looked at them, like a midnight sky full of stars. slowly, he reached out to hand you the daisy again.
it was an impressive daisy. large and in full bloom, you could practically smell it from where you stood a few feet away. cautiously, you took a small step forward and reach to grab it. your fingertips brushed his, and his whole body seemed to tremble. you stepped back quickly and clutched the daisy to your chest.
“th-thank you.” came your small, shaky voice. the boy’s eyelashes fluttered as he took a deep breath and then cleared his throat.
“are they your favorite? u’disnant?” his voice was gravely, like he wasn’t used to using it. the foreign word rolled smoother off his tongue.
“the daisy? um, yes they are.”
the boy nodded, and repeated “daisy” as if trying to memorize it. the sudden scream of your name from across the field made you both jump, and the boy’s lips pulled back in a viscous snarl. you flew around to see the village head aiming a shotgun in your direction.
frozen in your terror, you stare at a man you’ve known you’re whole life ready to kill you on the spot. a hand grabs your arm harshly and pulls you to the ground. you both tumble in the grass, the boy’s snarling drowned out by the loud crack of a gunshot.
now that you were out of immediate danger, you were able to think again. horror dawns on you as you realize the village head thinks this boy is a monster.
“you have to go! he thinks you’re one of the monsters!” your voice is frantic, verging on hysterical as you push at his shoulder as hard as you can. the boy barely moves, and instead looks down from where he’s hovering above you, eyes wide and angry, but also seemingly hesitant to leave you.
“he won’t hurt me, he’s after you! you need to go now!” at your urging, the boy finally pulls back, and with one last glance he runs through the grass and back into the darkness where the forest swallows him whole. another gunshot disturbs the oppressive atmosphere.
you never returned to the field, and the daisy was lost in the chaos.
your parents were rightfully horrified whenever they opened their door to find the village head gripping your shoulder tightly, and you sobbing. your papa held you as they were told what happened, and your mother’s face had lost all life whenever she turned around after seeing the head out.
you weren’t physically punished, as the village head throughly recommended, but instead forbidden from going to your field again. your parents had only let you go because they knew how much you loved it, so this was punishment enough. they knew they were right whenever your sobbing started up again at this declaration.
you felt like you would never feel the sunshine on your skin again. never feel the grass beneath your bare feet, and never hear the hums of the insects and chirps of the birds that created a musical just for you. that night, you slept snugly between your parents, as both of them needed the reassurance that you were still there.
it didn’t take long for word to spread around your village about what had happened in the field. despite you stressing that “it wasn’t a monster! it was just a boy!” you still were given a wide berth whenever you entered the village center to buy things for your parents. soon, you were ostracized completely, and even dubbed the “monster lover” by your peers.
it continues even to this day. you’re older now, just past your teen years, and your papa is gone. he left an emptiness in your house that has been eating away the foundation for years. one day you fear your mother will fall in.
the boy has become a fuzzy memory, something you are only sure actually happened because of everyone else not letting it go. sometimes you dream of red eyes peering at you, and when you awake in a cold sweat you swear you can see the same ones staring at you through your window.
the village has been getting antsy. the former village head has just passed on the title to his son, enji, and recently the village’s main farm found two of there goats slaughtered.
the farmer’s son (he being one of the few who actually talks to you), told you about it in detail while you were both at the river doing laundry.
“i’m telling you! i’ve never seen an animal tore up that way!” hizashi emphatically states as he grabs your arm and shakes it. his wide eyes are full of fear, you realize. this surprises you, because hizashi once ran off a coyote in order to protect the herd, and he has the scars to prove it.
“you need to be really careful! i know you like taking walks, so just promise me you won’t go on one alone anymore! at least until this animal is caught, ok?”
you give him a look, raising one eyebrow in disbelief. “who am i supposed to walk with? enji?”
that earns you a scoff, and then a considering look.
“he does have a soft spot for you, you know. i think he fancies you.”
that earns him a fake gag, which makes hizashi let out a loud laugh that echoes so loudly you’re sure the whole village can hear. the conversation moves on to more pleasant topics, and the rest of your chores passes quickly.
you drag your feet on the path home, already dreading the gloomy atmosphere that awaits. your mother lost a part of herself whenever your papa died, and each year the sharp blade of grief chips away more of her. she has become almost unrecognizable to you, her only child and someone who used to be so close to her.
you were always a little closer to your papa, but it was your mother who taught you how to create flower crowns, who kissed your bumps and scrapes, and who sang you lullabies whenever you had nightmares. now, you’re lucky to get a full conversation with her.
your house has become dilapidated, as it was your papa who did all the repairs whenever they were needed, and no body wants to go to the “monster lover’s” house and help. the entry, once lined with flowers, now has been overcome with weeds. you do your best with the upkeep, but some things simply escape your efforts. a sad entry for a sad house, you think.
surprisingly, your mother is at the table whenever you enter. her nimble fingers are knitting what could become a scarf or a shirt, and she has an empty expression on her face. at your footsteps, she looks up at you.
“there is a meeting at the town hall tonight.”
her voice is the same low, lovely tone it always has been, but it’s cold and gripping where it used to wrap around you like a cozy blanket. you simply nod, and get to work on a light supper you both can eat before you go.
you are both silent as you sit on one of the hard benches in the town hall. there were not many people there yet when you arrived, but you still chose a bench in the very back. it’s better for you to be as inconspicuous as possible at these sorts of events, you’ve learned. just as you hoped, barely anyone acknowledges the two of you, with the exception of hizashi and his family and a surprising nod from enji. a sinking feeling sweeps your gut as your friend’s words from earlier come back to you. the last thing you need is enji’s interest.
the whole town is here in the small building, so there are multiple people standing along the walls. you figure this must be a very important meeting, because even the old healer is there, and she never leaves her cottage anymore. a quiet takes over the room as enji makes his way to the podium at the front. his deep voice is commanding as he starts to speak.
“as you know, there have been multiple suspicious animal deaths in the village recently.” this raises murmurs from the people, and you see enji’s eye twitch in annoyance even from your place in the back.
“aside from this, the first wolf has been seen since the last sighting years ago.”
at this, several dozen people turn to look at you and your mother, making you shrink down. horrified gasps ring out, and fittingly a baby starts to cry at all the commotion. in a surprising display of affection, your mother grips your hand in hers tightly. you look over at her and her eyebrows are furrowed, eyes holding so many emotions its hard to make heads from tails.
“silence!” the room immediately goes mute as the village head harshly spits out the word. enji takes a deep breath, and begins again.
“due to this, i have decided we need to take proactive measures. we are going to hunt them before they can hunt us.”
there is no stopping the cacophony of sounds that rings out after this statement. enji seems to realize this, as he nods and steps down from the podium. kugo steps up quickly in his place, and cups his hands around his mouth.
“any men wanting to join the hunt please come forward!”
in horror, you and your mother watch as multiple men, young and old, scamper through the crowd to get to the front. you look around and make eye contact with enji, who seemingly was already looking at you. his expression is determined, and you have a bad feeling come over you suddenly. there is a storm coming, and your village was going to be in the dead center of it.
#mat’s writing#one breath away part one#aizawa x y/n#aizawa x you#bnha shouta aizawa#shouta aizawa x reader#mha aizawa#aizawa x reader#aizawa shōta#bnha aizawa#aizawa shouta#werewolf aizawa#werewolf fanfiction#my hero imagines#my hero academia smut#my hero acedamia#my hero academia fanfiction#my hero academia#mha x reader#mha fanfiction#mha fantasy#aizawa fanfiction#aizawa fantasy#werewolf fantasy#mha#my hero academia headcanons#my hero academy fanfiction
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Chapter One: My Stalker
mlist <3
My Serial Killer — Suguru Geto Series
"Good morning! Welcome in!" You smiled, waving at the tall broad long dark haired man. You noticed him come into the bakery every morning, grabbing the same thing he did every morning, a crossaint and a black coffee. "Same as usual." You cheerly said, as he went to check out. The man hummed, fishing out the cash from his wallet, setting it on the counter. He was handsome, tall, buff, and his jaw was perfectly chiseled, it was almost as if he had been handcrafted by God himself.
"Be careful pretty, I heard there has been some disturbing activity over here." He said gruntly. You had never really heard him speak so much, hearing his voice sent shivers down your spine. "Of course, thank you Sir!" You smiled. "Suguru." He smirked, "Oh, I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you Mr. Suguru." You waved, after handing him his food and coffee.
You were not oblivious to the people who kept coming up missing, and found a mile down the road, sluaghtered to pieces. There was always a little note on the indivuals. "She is mine." You had noticed after the 5th man to be murdered horrifically that these men were all men who came into your bakery and tried hitting on you. Tonight was one of those nights, as you tried locking up the bakery to get going home, and feed your two cats, a slender man had been waiting for you. "Hey pretty lady, you closing?" He snickered. "Um- yes sir, we reopen at 7AM. Feel free to come back then." You smiled, locking the door, and walking away. You had pulled your pepper spray out, and sped walked to your apartment that was down the street.
“Let me walk you home pretty.” The slender man said in a purr. “I’m okay. I can surely walk fine on my own.” You nervously said, walking faster. “You scared?” He chuckled, grabbing you by your wrist, as you tried to open the door to your apartment building. “I’m really okay, please leave me alone.” You huffed, walking into the apartment building and going to the elevator.
The slender man walked into the elevator as it was closing, “Sir, please leave me be.” You started to shake, grabbing your pepper spray. “I’m just walking a lady home, that’s all.” He smirked, getting dangerously close to you. You aimed the pepper spray at him, and as you were about to spray, he snatched it from your hand. At that moment, the elevator door opened, and you ran out as fast as possible, you darted for your door, yelling. “PLEASE HELP ME!” You feared what the man would do to you if you didn’t get help. As you raced to your door, and were fidgeting for your keys, the tall broad man you had seen every single day for a whole year was standing at the door next to yours. Neighbors maybe? “Help me please.” You cried running behind Suguru. “Someone chasin you?” He muttered, seeing the man walk to you with a knife in hand. “Ah, I just wanted to walk the pretty lady to her door, but the little bitch wanted to pepper spray me. You don’t wanna have fun?” He snickered. Suguru opening his front door, walking in. At this point, you couldn’t see nor think. Your keys were jumbled and you felt your blood run cold as the man got closer. As you finally opened your door, you went to shut it, but you didn’t make it in time. The slender man had gotten himself inside. He held the knife to your throat.
“How about you shut that trap of yours, or maybe I should shut it for you?” He chuckled. Grabbing you by your neck. “P-please let me go.” You cried. “Oh I love how pretty girls cry, cry with my cock down your throat.” He laughed. Just a moment later his laughter changed to choking, and the only thing you saw was blood spurting from his throat. You looked past the slender man, and saw Suguru’s figure behind, holding a hunting knife. “Is that how you talk to a lady?” He muttered, grabbing the man by his nape and stabbing him over and over. You stood there in shock. You had blood that had gotten on your clothes and hands. You couldn’t scream, you couldn’t hear, you stayed silent and cried. You had dropped to your knees, watching Suguru brutally murder the man. Next thing you knew, you watched two men take the body from your home and disappear. While Suguru stood there and wiped the blood from his hands and face.
“You alright doll?” He asked unphased. You couldn’t speak, you watched as he walked to your cabinet and grabbing cup. How did he know which cabinet? Was it luck? He poured you water from your water dispenser on your fridge, handing it to you. “Here, drink.” He smiled.
“I-“ you stuttered out. “Hush, drink. Talk after.” He said. “There is two men outside your apartment complex, and stationed at every fire exit. Don’t try to run. I’m gon’ go take a shower.” He said, walking into your bathroom and taking a shower.
You sat there on the ground until he came back, when he came back, you had ran to the kitchen, grabbing knife. “WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?” You cried. “You.” He plainly said. “What!” You cried, confused. “I want you.” He said again. “What does that even mean?” You said confused. “I have watched you every single day for a year, you have captured my attention and time. I have watched you, studied you, and I have found myself entranced by your innocence. I’m going to take you away from this place, and you’re going to live to serve me, and I will live to serve you.” He said in an almost growl. “Serve you! Leave here? I’m staying right here!” You were so scared of what this man could do to you. “I’m not going to hurt you unless you give me a reason to. That little knife there is one of the reasons. So if I were you, I would put it down. I just saved you didn’t I?” He questioned. You felt your heard skip a beat. “Listen here, I could force that puny knife out of your hand, and forcefully take you with me, or you could be a good girl, and leave with me willingly, and you don’t have to get hurt.” He said with a serious tone. “I’m not leaving with you!” You shouted. “Listen here doll, I know where your mom, dad, little brother, and even your dear old grandma lives. Either come with me, or I’ll slit all of their throats in front of you.” He grunted. You gasped, letting go of the knife, and it falling on the ground. “That’s a good girl.” He smirked. “I’m gonna have fun with you.” He added, throwing you over his shoulder and walking to your bed, tossing you on it.
“Undress and sleep. We leave in the morning.” He smiled, kissing your forehead and walking out the room.
What the fuck…
#anime fanfic#fanfiction#suguru geto x reader#geto x you#suguru geto smut#geto smut#getou suguru x reader#geto suguru smut#geto x reader#jjk geto#geto suguru#suguru geto#jujutsu geto#geto x y/n
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dilf taehyung or jungkook having sex with their baby mother’s little sister(18-20) who came over to babysit and they get caught
“Yes, yes…” You whimpered, fingers digging into the mattress. You could feel it building. The tension and pleasure, growing and growing with every smack. And with every snap of his hips against your ass, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.
His name was a moan on your lips, followed by a sharp gasp as his cock hit that spot inside you just right, causing you to see stars.
Taehyung gripped your hips tightly, pulling you back to meet his thrusts as they grew more erratic, his rhythm faltering the closer he got. “Such a sweet tight pussy.” He whispered.
You knew all of this was wrong, but truth be told, you were attracted to this man ever since the day your sister brought him over to your parents and introduced him. But you never in your wildest dreams thought it would come to this. You could have never predicted it.
“That feels so good…” You whimpered, arching your back and laying your head down on the pillow. “So good.”
Taehyung leaned over your back and reached under you, stroking your clit in a way that had you gasping and writhing beneath him, unable to contain yourself any longer. “So close…” You whimpered, closing your eyes as you smiled. “Please, harder, mm…”
But then, the door banged against the wall, and the loud, sharp sound snapped you out of pleasure.
Your eyes flew open, and you blinked a few times, trying to comprehend what was going on, before your gaze focused on the person who had entered the room.
You felt the color drain from your face, and a chill ran down your spine, and you immediately wanted to curl up into a ball, hide yourself, and disappear.
Your sister was standing at the doorway, and her eyes were widened, her face red and contorted into an expression of pure rage.
She opened her mouth to speak, but only a scream came out, along with a series of bad words and insulting phrases and you weren’t sure which were aimed at who.
Taehyung pulled out and your sister stormed over to you, grabbing you by the arm and yanking you off the bed. “Get the fuck out of my house!” She hollered.
“Hey it’s not her fault.” Taehyung defended you, which was met with more screaming from your sister. The two argued and you decided to put on your clothes as fast as you could and when you did you left the house.
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People are too nice to me and send me so many intriguing and prescient questions and scenarios about my imaginary friends. Some of these I would have a hard time responding to with drawings, so I've gotta just use my words (SO MANY WORDS) instead!
So, for all interested parties, in response to those questions, here come some LORE RAMBLES: THEO EDITION.
Asks and answers under the cut!
Thank you! “Strange but interesting” is what I aim for with him.
I don’t think I’ve talked about Theo’s voice before! To be honest, I often struggle to imagine precisely what my character’s voices are; the qualities of my mental performance for them varies from day to day. Still, I think with Theo I can formulate a description of some kind.
I imagine his voice to be on the higher end for a man, though not exaggeratedly so, along the tenor range. He can deepen his pitch purposefully to sound more imposing or masculine, but his voice tends to rise in pitch further and further when he’s tense, like a violin string on the verge of snapping. He speaks clearly and distinctly, sometimes to the point of almost biting off the ends of words rather than having them sloppily run into each other, and only rarely uses contractions. His voice has a slight nasal quality to it at times. When he’s angry, a bit of a rattling growl can edge the end of his words.
When he was young, he was a terrible stutterer. He made a concerted effort to train himself out of stuttering in his adolescent years, but he will still lapse into r-ruh-ruh-repeating his syllables if anxiousness gets the better of him and makes him forget to swallow those extra sounds.
He is an expressive speaker, far more so than he’d prefer. Like his pitch varies, so too does his volume, and he can swing from speaking so softly as to be almost inaudible to screaming with all the volume his lungs can muster in a moment. His cadence is full of exaggerated pauses for effect mixed with swift traipses through less important words said simply for the music of reciting them to himself; his conversational tone sounds more like a performer going through a soliloquy than casual speech. In large part, that’s because he’s had more pleasant experiences with theater than conversation.
As many have noticed, he has also a vocal tic. He makes nasally sounds and guttural grunts and growls involuntarily, more often when he’s nervous or upset about something. As he gets older and his body is less able to shrug off the effects of his little smoking habit, he wheezes and coughs in the middle of his sentences as well.
For most settings, I imagine him speaking in a highly affected Transatlantic accent, but in Amaranthine (which is what I assume people are asking about and what I’m defaulting to for these answers), his accent might be more typically British posh-y, like Received Pronunciation. Or maybe not, I mean, it’s a funny animal fantasy setting, so he could have any accent I like. :P
If you want auditory examples, I think something mixing the high-pitched, sibilant, nasally breathiness of Peter Lorre with the refined yet expressive voice of Vincent Price would get you pretty close to what I imagine. To break from the classic horror actor category, you can also throw in this animated series’ depiction of Doctor Octopus to add the all-important ingredient of “nerd factor” to his voice, haha.
He’s a bookworm, yes, but that means he likes to learn! In his case, he’s also someone who enjoys mastering (or at least getting competent at) new skills and is extremely likely to learn to do something well just because someone thinks he can’t. He also has the benefit of being kicked out of school and extremely unemployed, so for most of his life he had lots and lots of free time to take on all manner of niche hobbies if he so desired!
His drive to learn a new skill is motivated by a combination of practicality, gentlemanliness, a need to know how to handle his own business to have as little outside interference as possible or simple intellectual curiosity (which itself is often a cover for boyish whimsy about Cool Stuff). To give examples of practical skills he taught himself: most people probably wouldn’t expect him to be a good cook, but he learned to do that because his family lost their household staff, and someone had to figure out how to cook beef – and because he wanted to take better care of his mother after she fell ill. He’s a great seamster because he wanted to make alterations to his clothes to better fit his unusual proportions without suffering the indignity of being prodded and measured by some nosy tailor. Where he lives, engines are extremely uncommon, being used only for agriculture if at all, but if Theo did own his own automobile, he would learn how to fix the thing himself as best as he could because he wouldn’t want some stranger poking around in his precious baby. He does know how to repair basic clockwork mechanisms, though! (Even if he won’t fix his own pocket watch for weird sentimental reasons.) He taught himself to be ambidextrous purely because he worried about losing a hand in a freak accident one day. He never wants to be caught unprepared or feel like he can’t handle something on his own if he needs to.
For skills in the “oh but if I could do this it would be so cool – I MEAN GENTLEMANLY” camp… yeah, actually, he does like to fence. He might not be able to hold his own all that well against a trained opponent, partly just because of his own physical limitations, but he knows the footwork and he certainly enjoys fighting stationary enemies while role-playing in his head as a knight. (He would be exceedingly embarrassed if anyone knew that part.) He can dance – but only as half a pair – and play the piano – or at least the chords his fingers can reach. He makes model ships and is familiar with all their parts even though he’s never seen the ocean. He knows a fair bit about women’s fashion and could probably help a lady pick a flattering dress for a gala… if she didn’t mind dressing about decade out of style. He’s a fine marksman, though that does overlap with “practical skills” when you live in a world with monsters creeping around on the edges of towns. And that’s not even getting into his self-taught anatomy lessons! But maybe we shouldn’t get into that, for the sake of our stomachs.
I could keep rambling, but to summarize, Theo lacks worldly experience, but he is a curious little guy and has all kinds of weird skills rattling around in his skull. You never know what he’s gonna know! Except for anything involving successfully interacting with other people. He’s never going to know how to do that.
Theo is the sort of person who enjoys collecting things, in that he is often captivated by the history and sentimental value of objects that catch his eye, likes to have a little hoard he can lord over like a dragon, doesn’t see value in minimalism and is loath to get rid of anything he owns.
However, he’s a homebody who rarely traveled far from his hometown of Northcrest, a small and remote barony, and his family (and therefore he) did not have the kind of financial situation that allowed for many frivolous expenditures. Therefore, he cannot regularly obtain new items for his collections because he would quickly exhaust everything that caught his eye in his own town, and he would be wary of spending his family’s dwindling funds on something that only served to satisfy his own whims. If he were in different circumstances, able and willing to travel more broadly and possessing the kind of wealth that allowed him to fully indulge his fascinations, I’d imagine he’d have quite the collection of art, weapons, antique books, clothing, and other fineries. As it stands, he only rarely adds a new object to his own collections, and he instead contents his inner dragon by attempting to maintain and catalogue the acquisitions made by past Norths that have accrued in their manor over the generations. Still… a toy store in his town has made quite a profit off him by having new model trains in stock around his birthday and holidays.
I don’t think he’d be terribly enthused with an insect collection, regrettably. At least not a live one. Preserved, exotic kinds might at least hold the intrigue of far-off places, but something more mundane (and wrigglier) would repulse him more than fascinate him.
I’m going to say somewhere along the line between “absolutely not” and “it’s complicated.” Theo obviously gets fulfillment from looking after the people he cares about, and in Amaranthine, he’s been in a caregiver role for so long he takes a certain amount of comfort in it. Even so, if he somehow knew people thought that he “wants” the people he’s close with to fall ill, or have chronic poor health, he’d be horrified. Theo’s not exactly the most hale and hearty fellow himself (and he’s also made his health notably worse through the years via his own actions, good job on that bud), so he knows first-hand how miserable frequent illness is. He wouldn’t want someone to suffer through that. Also, witnessing his mother’s slow decline and death was harrowing for him, and part of why he flings himself into caring for Hyden is that he doesn’t want to see something like that again and is doing all he can to keep Hyden stable. It brings him comfort, but the stress of feeling responsible for someone’s health – and the stress of only being able to manage their symptoms and never fix the problem – takes a toll on him, too, even if he wouldn’t say so.
So, he wouldn’t blame a sickly partner for their condition, and he’d be willing to care for them and want to help them, but I don’t think he’d ever say he “wants” someone he cares about to be sick. Would he nonetheless be more likely to get close to someone sick versus someone well? Well, maybe. Theo has a bit of a dependent streak, not in that he needs someone to dote on him, but that he doesn’t feel like he has any worth in a relationship unless he can provide protection or assistance. But someone could easily satisfy his need to be needed in other ways, too. Like someone being clumsy and needing their clothes mended regularly, or having a deadbeat husband they need murdered, you know, stuff like that.
He doesn’t know much, and never cared to ask much either, like you imagine. He mostly just knows they’re not nobility, they do have some mage ancestry and ability, and beyond that aren’t important (according to Jocosa). Besides, as a history nerd, he has little interest in learning about his father’s side when his mother’s side has biographies, tapestries, records of badges and achievements and personal spellbooks in such great measure that he couldn’t hope to go through them all in his lifetime. Does Leonard’s side of the family have even one tapestry? No? How dull.
For his part, Leonard isn’t close to or fond of most of his family and isn’t very candid about his past life before becoming successful, so he was amenable to not talking much about his childhood or ancestry. He would prefer if Jocosa was similar restrained and didn’t extoll the virtues and history of her bloodline constantly, but alas, no. One of the consequences of marrying into snotty nobility, I suppose.
Oh, you’re on to something there! :)
Now, with someone like Theo, whose brain is a Gordian knot of congealing gray matter basting in a cerebral soup of self-deception, neuroticism, and concentrated hatred, it’s hard to point to one thing as the sole cause for any of his many issues. At the same time, I don’t want to just dump the entirety of Theo’s issues with his family and how they impact him psychologically because I worry that I could write a thousand words about it and still have five thousand more in me, and we all have other things to do with our time than read all that. That said, to briefly (ha) touch on what you’ve mentioned…
Many of Theo’s problems with intimacy, with needing to feel useful, with fearing connections with others, and so on do stem from his troubled family history. At least some of his self-loathing is borne from him, at a glance, looking more like the man he most despises instead of being the same long, slim, elegant creatures that form the roots and branches of his mother’s family tree. Although, the irony in that is that all the “bad” genetics that cause him grief and suffering come from his mother’s side – but he alternately blames the cruel gods and himself for being a freak, not his mother or grandpa or any of his weaselly ancestors for that.
It’s also true to say that Theo’s self-sacrificing and self-effacing acts of kindness towards his mother and to others he cares for are done in part to make up for the fact of his own existence. The fact that his beloved mother had to couple with a disgusting, loathsome, degrading, unfaithful cur of a man (have I mentioned Theo really hates his dad yet?) in order to bear him weighs heavily on his mind and warps his self-concept. As much as Theo knows his mother loves him, he also knows – and despises – that he if he’s his mother’s son, he’s also his father’s spawn.
Jocosa doesn’t talk at length about her problems to Theo, or anyone – she wouldn’t want to make Theo feel responsible for her woes and she isn’t the kind of woman to whine about her life’s tribulations besides – but Theo isn’t so ignorant that he can’t pick up on the tension in other’s conversations, read meaning into words left unsaid, or work backwards from what he is told to deduce the rotten truth behind what little he’s told. He knows that everything involving his conception was hard for her, even if she doesn’t say it, and he feels he needs to do everything in his power to make up for the suffering bringing him into existence put her through. ...And I could go on but I think that’s enough to get the picture for now. Have I mentioned I can write a lot of words about Theo??
I think Hyden would know better than to say something like that – out loud. Hyden does try to push Theo into a personal valet role. But Theo has his limits and Hyden is smart enough to not press them (too much, right away). Being referred to as a kind of servant is one of those limits that really pisses him off and would be a one-way ticket to not getting any more pillow fluffing. Also, for as much as he helps Hyden with daily tasks and provides whatever dotage he feels is required of him as an apprentice, caregiver or host, there are tasks a manservant would be responsible for that Theo categorically refuses to do (even though Hyden wishes he would).
I am greatly amused by the thought of someone trying to get a flower crown on Theo. I can’t imagine it’d ever go much better than people trying to put shirts on their cats. He just really doesn’t like situations wherein Stimulus I Have No Control Over Is Happening To Me.
He does tend to flip from fury to (relative) calm depending on the circumstance and the source of annoyance, so you’re spot-on with the variable reactions he could have to a floral intrusion. I would say he isn’t likely to use “witch” as an insult for the same reason as he wouldn’t use “harpy” or “ice queen” as an insult, which is that any kind of derogatory comment his mother was ever called might as well be a compliment in his books. “Harlot” is completely fair game, though.
Thanks a bunch for the kind words on my weird rat guy. So happy you like him!
(Also “dark fantasy rose type flower” made me laugh. God. He’s such an edgelord. Emphasis on the “lord”, with a title and arms and everything.)
Glad you like seeing him! I guess one of the benefits of me not getting particularly exotic with the colors or markings on my furry designs is that you can find associations to actual animals like this! I hope your pet rat had a better temperament than Theo does, though.
…Which sounds a little stupid considering quite a lot of these answers involved me talking at length about Theo being sad and self-sacrificing and crap like that. I swear to God he’s a nasty little bitchboy most of the time. I need to draw him biting someone on the face or insulting someone for being poor or eating someone’s eyeball or something again to balance the scales here.
Note to self.
#WHO WANTS TO READ 2800 WORDS ABOUT THEO?? WAIT COME BACK#i wrote this joke about anonymous letters but actually looking at these -#like half of them were actually sent by people non-anonymously#YOU ARE ALL SO BRAVE#also sorry to those of you who sent in asks months or years ago who either are in this or are worse AREN'T...#i do have plans for the asks I get but well#timeliness is not one of my skills#my draws#doodles#asks#theo#amaranthine
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