#and destroys every relationship that's ever meant anything to him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yrbladie · 5 months

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♡ ﾟ˖ ॱ ▎THE WAY THEY HOLD YOU IN THEIR HEART PT2ㅤ𝅄 🌿 ꒱

˖ ࣪ ayato, xiao, baizhu, wriothesley, al haitham

warnings ：maybe ooc in some parts (mostly al haitham), gn!reader, slight pining, reader is called endearments multiple times, tooth rotting fluff, implied marriage, established relationships, very slight angst in some parts, indirect mentions of death (xiao, baizhu), reader is called beautiful (wriothesley), non fluent writer

ㅤThere you were, standing in the sunlight in all of your glory and your beauty. And he wondered, was life always so bright and cheerful or was it just because now he had you?

ㅤAyato fell in love with you for the first time during spring. The flowers bloomed so beautifully as they flew onto your hair, and he wished for nothing more than to be the one to pluck each of the petals gently from you, with every petal a kiss.

ㅤThe second time he fell for you was during a warm rainy day in summer. As he watched you hiding from the rain in a store, your hair was already soaked. There, he spoke with you for the first time ever.

ㅤHis first words to you were, "You'll catch a cold like that, dear.", and the endearment slipped past his lips so easily like it was already your name.

ㅤHe even started to wonder if your name had always been written right besides his in the sky. Always destined to meet somehow someday. Like the gods had taken pity on him and sent you to ease his burdens.

ㅤThe third, and last, time he fell for you was the most impacting for him. It was on a lonely night during winter, when you still looked like spring itself while quietly sitting on a bench, warming a freezing dog with your jacket.

ㅤHe could see from where he was standing that you yourself were trembling. Still, you sat on the bench with snow covering your hair while hugging the dog to your chest, pouring all of your wishes for it to be well.

ㅤOn that starlit night, it was like something pushed him to approach you again. Offering his two hands to carry the poor dog to his house. It was everything he could do for now, but as you settled down on the floor of his house, a warm blanket enveloping you and the dog wagging his tail now by your side, he thought of how well you looked right there.

ㅤIt was like his home was always supposed to be your home, ever since the start.

ㅤNow, he could barely remember the days he hadn't met you yet, shouldering the rain and the thunder in his life by himself. Could barely remember the days where all he did was work so that his family could have a better future. He focused on paperwork so much he forgot to learn about anything else. Even the most basic things like love.

ㅤAyato had always thought to himself that love had to come with a price. That love had to hurt even if a little, that it would be troublesome and destructive. That it would eat away at his everything and destroy his being starting from his heart. That love would burn and make him bleed, leaving only the scars when it left.

ㅤSo at first he didn't want to fall for you, except spring came again and at every sunrise your name was still upon his lips.

ㅤAnd contrary to his first conception of what loving meant, your love was peacefully kind. Like the gentle warm winds of summer that brought the smell of the ocean with it. It was calming, and instead of burning him, it was more like water, nurturing his being and planting flowers in his soul by the day.

ㅤAnd Ayato could slowly feel it, the inevitable sense of belonging to each other.

ㅤYour love for each other was much like that. Sometimes loud with laughter and bright smiles, other times it was quiet with the held hands and shared glances.

ㅤHe always told you "I'll give you one last chance to run away from here before you get stuck with me forever, my love." and you knew that if you truly asked him that, if you really didn't want to stay by his side anymore, Ayato would always let you go, because he loved you that much, that your happiness and freedom mattered more than anything else in the world to him.

ㅤInstead you would tell him, "Then you should get used to me, because I'm not going anywhere, darling." and he would grin so widely like he knew you were going to say that.

ㅤBefore, he was drowning in the things he had to do. Always having to be one step ahead of everyone, always keeping to himself. And he's glad he was able to meet you before it was too late, because he realized you were everything he ever needed.

ㅤJust you being part of his small, little family.

ㅤEvery time your birthday came up, Ayato tried something new. Last year it was a bouquet of flowers he cultivated himself, instead, all the flowers he tried to plant wilted before they could even bloom. This year it was supposed to be a homemade dinner, but all he managed to do was get kicked out of the kitchen by Thoma without a single plate of edible food.

ㅤ"I'm so sorry, my beloved. You have such an incompetent husband." He laughed quietly while sighing to himself.

ㅤ"Oh, don't say that. You just don't have the aptitude for... certain things, is all." You held your tongue before you ended up saying that he didn't have the aptitude for most things, instead.

ㅤAyato caught on to what you meant but instead of replying he simply grinned at your attempt to comfort him somehow. Even though you knew he was perfectly okay.

ㅤ"Then why don't you teach me, my love? I'm sure I would learn lots with such an incredible teacher such as yourself." And you knew he was teasing you, perhaps it was just an excuse to spend more time by your side and less time doing his job.

ㅤBut you also could read the subtleties behind his light hearted words and joking tone.

ㅤHe missed you a lot.

ㅤBeing always busy with his work, he often expressed his sorrow at not being able to always be there for you when needed. The last drop to the storm was when you had gotten sick last time and it only got to his knowledge by a letter sent from Thoma that already had been taking care of you for the past week.

ㅤHe rushed home at that only to find out that you were already almost completely healed. And he wondered how could he have let you slip past his priorities so easily.

ㅤYou knew Ayato felt guilty, by the way he caressed your skin, a touch lighter than a feather while he thought you were already sleeping, and the longing kiss that he would leave at your nape before snuggling closer to your body, his arms enveloping you as if he wanted to shield you from the world.

ㅤYou never really blamed him for anything. You knew what you were compromising for when you accepted his marriage proposal with the happiest of hearts. The proposal that Ayato until this day joked you only accepted out of pity for his sopping wet cat look outside of your doorstep on a rainy night. So many things had went wrong that day that led up to it, but he still called it the most joyful day of his life.

ㅤAnd you would tell him that you accepted him wholeheartedly because you loved him. It didn't matter to you whether he was a pitiful cat in a storm or the Yashiro Commissioner. And you knew you would never regret your decision as you stared at him now trying to conceal the hopeful glee in his eyes. Those beautiful eyes that carried so much emotion sometimes were the exact reason you fell for him at first.

ㅤSo, you just gently tap him in the nose while smiling, "Really now? I'll teach you if you promise you'll be a good student."

ㅤ"Of course. Don't worry, I'll be the best." he replied back, taking the hand you used to touch his nose to kiss your open palm before pressing his cheek onto it. He did it so lovingly it made your heart leap out of your chest.

ㅤHis eyes were filled with tenderness and you knew you were the only thing in his mind now.

ㅤThe flowers faint fragrance lightly pick at your nose as you see Ayato gently closing his eyes to lean onto you, his blue hair softly swaying in the breeze prompting you to raise your other free hand to stroke it affectionately. As you felt him leaning more and more into your body, until you were both intertwined in a tender and gentle embrace, you couldn't help but love him even more.

ㅤHe was a little insufferable sometimes, yes, and sure, he didn't know how to cook or how to take care of flowers, but he was still your little mess of a husband at the end of the day. For as long as you could hold him in your embrace.

ㅤAnd for as long as your love for each other still persevered, and just like in your vows, until the moon fell, forever.

ㅤXiao was the type of lover that one had to take time to understand his hidden intentions with certain actions. He wasn't exactly open to every single experience nor did he feel comfortable at first with many things, so you took your time to unravel his feelings and to nurture his love for you.

ㅤIn the way you would always catch his eyes watching you from afar in a mountain while you went about your way with your shopping, and even when he said he wouldn't accompany you this time he was always there by your side to carry the groceries in an instant.

ㅤIn the gifts left by your bedside table, and the protective talismans you would find inside your bag. It was subtle, in the slow and hesitant way Xiao started to open up to you.

ㅤAnd you could know the extent of his love for you when after a long night, when you laid by yourself on the bed, before you could even fully close your eyes Xiao was already there.

ㅤ"Sleep. I'll watch over your safety", he would say. Even for a minute you wished for his tranquility, that he would lay beside you, but you also knew Xiao was not one you should hurry on these issues. He had been lonely for a long time and all you wanted was for him to take how much time he needed to accept reality.

ㅤYou were fluent in silence and in his quiet presence, after all.

ㅤStill, one night, you stayed up a little bit later, your eyes still closed and your breathing calm despite being awake. You could feel and hear as the adeptus approached your supposedly slumbering figure to tenderly touch your cheek, his touch timid and unsure, like he was scared that even something like that could hurt you.

ㅤ"I'm sorry.", you thought you heard him say at that moment although his whisper was almost inaudible. Your heart hurt and instead of waiting, you hugged him on that night, no words being exchanged between you.

ㅤAll you heard was his mumbled gasp before he finally relaxed on your touch, awkwardly patting your back while leaning his head slightly on your neck, his hair tickling your cheek.

ㅤYou don't exactly know what he was apologizing for, but you decided not to press further and just let him embrace you. Although you had a faint idea of what was on his mind.

ㅤXiao was someone prone to blame himself for things that were outside of his responsibility. He blamed himself when you tripped on the street and he wasn't quick enough to catch you before your knee hit the ground. He blamed himself for falling in love with you and for allowing you to fall in love with him. In his mind, he probably still thought that everything around him was destined to perish one day, and that he was cursed to forever wander alone, his immortality like a tight chain holding him against himself.

ㅤSo on that night, you didn't let him go as usual, and he also didn't try to leave either. That was how he thanked you for your love that night, with his touch that, although ticklish and clumsy, made you feel so loved by this adeptus that had such a big heart but that was often misunderstood.

ㅤFor you, he wasn't the scary guardian of the mountains, nor the Conqueror of Demons, or the noble adeptus. He was simply Xiao, with his wounded heart and fallen shoulders bearing the responsibility of eons of loneliness and pain.

ㅤThe one that would shyly accept your hand as you guided him through streets filled with lanterns and the smell of food. The one who would go above and beyond if only to ensure your safety and happiness.

ㅤHis every little smile was stored in your heart and mind as your fondest memories, and his love for you was as gentle as a feather's touch.

ㅤXiao remembers the first time he met you, it was during the Lantern Festival, and while everyone was enjoying themselves you were by yourself, folding paper with a lonely plate of food by your side. He watched for a while, curiously. Although alone, you didn't seem sad. In fact, you were smiling and happily humming to yourself.

ㅤHe didn't know why, but he felt entranced and approached you slowly, not making contact with you since he didn't want to scare that peaceful moment away. Yet, you turned to him and your smile somehow got even brighter, as if you had been waiting for him for a long time.

ㅤAfter that, you never once left his life.

ㅤFor him, you were his weakness, but also all the source of his strength. You were a mere mortal, your fragile body could barely stand the force of wind itself. And that was one of the reasons that for a long while made him want to keep his distance, but with every smile, every laugh, wave from afar, and plates of Almond Tofu left on the railing from you, just made him want to get closer.

ㅤAnd you fit him so perfectly. In the way you weren't scared of his demons and instead trusted him with all your heart, never failing to still surprise him. In the way you never stood for defeat, always kept trying and also gave him many chances.

ㅤXiao learnt to enjoy life a bit more, to smile a tad bit more often beside you, and he was still amazed at how much he could still learn new things every day with how long he already has lived.

ㅤYou smiled each time he got angry while fretting over your safety, he hated it but he could never take it too seriously for so long. All he could do was protect you as long as he lived, while not wanting to know about how fleeting your life would be.

ㅤXiao knew your time together would flow past him in a second, but allow him to be selfish, even if for just a while, and keep you by his side for a while longer. Just a minute more, just one more eternity.

ㅤIf he could choose, he would choose you in all lives, in all the universes you always spoke about that you believed existed. If they really do, allow him to follow you into all of them. Even if it takes everything out of him.

ㅤHe just doesn't want to lose you too. So, just love him until the stars call your name back to them, and even then, don't forget him. Call his name again, once more.

ㅤAnd he promises you, he'll find you, no matter where you are.

ㅤAt first, Baizhu thought that he definitely shouldn't fall for you, no matter what. There was many more things far more important than a simple chemical reaction of the brain. It would eventually go away if he just focused on something else.

ㅤInstead, the feeling only grew, like roses wrapping itself around his heart, it's thorns picking at his body each time he saw you, standing by yourself from afar.

ㅤIt was to the point even Changsheng started to complain, the doctor's brain seeming to fog up at every moment, his every thought showed him you. Every word that came out of his mouth when alone were words about you.

ㅤEvery time you two interacted was like a new rose bloomed in his chest, a newfound hope of a better tomorrow. With each of your smiles he felt like he could live for a minute more. Your presence was healing and like a breath of fresh air in his tight schedule.

ㅤEvery encounter became longer and longer, until you decided to stay and never really left. Until his things became yours, and now there was a space for your clothes in his closet. Until he could kiss at your hair anytime he wished to and none of you flinched at the contact anymore, for it was never accidental now.

ㅤBaizhu found himself starting to look at another path to follow besides the one that laid before him all his life. Baizhu biggest desire was to search immortality, but now, he sometimes had the foolish thought of what would immortality mean if he lost you in the end?

ㅤIt was a short path, but it had you. Holding his hand for as long he had left. And he wondered, was it worth it? But how could he hope to be this selfish?

ㅤSo he found himself at an impasse, stuck at a crossroads, where none of the paths ended in happiness.

ㅤChoosing immortality, he eventually would see you pass before him, your life going away at a minute's time for him. While choosing you, he would forfeit all chances to save so many more people. And also possibly cursing you to be without him in the end.

ㅤIt was an impossible choice that hung heavily over his heart. But all you did was smile while remaking the braid in his hair, your fingers still as gentle as ever even with the pass of years.

ㅤAnd you would tell him, your voice only but a whisper, "Dear, no matter what, I'll love you to the end."

ㅤAnd he believed you. For you was one of the last things he had that he truly loved in this life.

ㅤTime was oh so cruel, withering away things before they could even breathe properly. Taking things without permission and always leaving with no apologies.

ㅤBut time was also the one who brought you to him, and also the one that seemed to stop, even if for a little while every time he saw you smile.

ㅤAnd Baizhu realized, it didn't matter if it was only in an ephemeral life, or the flow of a thousand lifetimes. He would still love you in the end. To the end, and even after that.

ㅤThe doctor would eventually have to choose between you and the undeniable fate. But for now, allow him to be oblivious. To dream of something he never dared to, a tomorrow that had you in this little life together. Of a family.

ㅤAllow him to hold you closer, until you're engraved in his entire being. So that no matter what happens in this future, he'll always know how your love tasted. And how it was to love your thoughts, and the way you softly spoke his name, to ache for your presence and wish to be by your side.

ㅤSo that he never forget how your hands felt while caressing his face and his back when he got tired and sick. How it felt to finally be taken care of, after years of lonesomeness. That he never forgets how you looked like when you smiled whenever he woke you up with breakfast in bed, or how your hair smelled after the shower.

ㅤBaizhu knew either way his time was running out, and that even forever doesn't last long. But he figured it would be fine, because getting to meet and love you was worth it all. So allow him to offer you his last breath of life before the end.

ㅤThus was eternity, an everlasting feeling.

ㅤWriothesley had met you so long ago, even before he knew what the Fortress of Meropide was. Before, when his life was more full of life and starry skies. And he still remembers how you looked, your smile with a few teeth missing, and the way your knees were always bruised.

ㅤAnd he also remembers when everything fell apart. The day you slowly changed, when you felt like growing up faster, and time took away your innocence far too quickly.

ㅤWhen your smile disappeared and all there was left were apologetic looks from afar and your presence vanishing from his life.

ㅤIt started there, and thus his life was over in a blink. And he was stuck in the Fortress, no more than a teenager.

ㅤWriothesley also grew up after that, your face slightly fading out between memories and responsibilities.

ㅤUntil, he was met with sunshine one day again. When his body was weary and fallen. The first time the Duke ever fell sick, it was then he saw you again. A dreamlike presence between his fever thoughts.

ㅤYou looked older now, but you were still as beautiful as the day he saw you last.

ㅤThe last thing he heard before passing out was your voice, telling him to sleep a bit. And he thought, "What an idyllic dream."

ㅤBut you were still there when he awoke again and it took his breath away in an instant, still thinking that maybe now he was hallucinating. And it took you the longest time to explain that you were working in the Fortress now.

ㅤSometimes, Wriothesley would still suddenly ask you, "Why here?" and to that you would say, "Just because.", but you knew and he also knew that deep down, it was for him.

ㅤHe couldn't help the way his heart still fluttered like that of a teen experiencing his first love, just at the thought of you. He couldn't help but think the Fortress looked a tiny bit more bright with your presence there. That his life was replenished with so much tranquility.

ㅤAnd he would forever cherish every word you said to him.

ㅤHe was so stupidly in love with you, he knew. And probably had been for the longest time now.

ㅤAnd it didn't take long for the love between you both to flourish, and everyone would be a fool to say now that in the murky and damp Fortress of Meropide no flowers could bloom.

ㅤHis infatuation for you was like the gentlestest of lullabies, and the way he cherished you filled your heart to the brim until it overflowed. And no matter how much it spilled, you never minded it too much.

ㅤYou both had lost so much to the ebb and flow of time, and had sacrificed so much to arrive where you are now. So, for today, and the days that'll still come, you allow each other to this serendipity.

ㅤDancing under the faint lights and the seawater smell, while staring into a vast ocean through the giant window. To Wriothesley it was like watching an endless sunset by your side, even though there was no sun to be seen. None of you was especially skilled in dancing, your arms intertwined in all the wrong ways and your legs kept getting tangled up. But still, you remained joined in this messy dance.

ㅤWriothesley felt at peace whilst listening to the calm beating of your heart, and you eased up while hearing his relaxed breathing.

ㅤThe sound of your loud giggles filled the hall with happiness, and the faint music coming from the speakers was all that could be heard for now. And all the guards knew to keep to themselves and not approach that place, not to break the dome that seemed to envelop you both, like your love for each other was an entirely different reality.

ㅤStill, they smiled between themselves. Their boss, the ever so collected Duke, finally the happiest he could be. And they had no one to thank but you for it.

ㅤAnd if Wriothesley knew what they all thought and whispered among themselves, he would agree. For you had brought back his soul from the pit not even he knew it had fallen to. He entrusted his heart wholeheartedly to you, and he would do it a thousand times again.

ㅤSo break his heart a million times, and he would still look at you with a smile on his face and tell you, "Thank you, sunshine."

ㅤAnd if you choose to love him back with all you have, oh be prepared, for he will definitely, without a doubt, never let go of your hand again.

ㅤAnd to you, he wishes to be forever bound. For forever is contained in even a minute and your souls were akin.

ㅤLove was something that made people irrational and out of their minds. That's what Al Haitham thought. So why, why was he constantly thinking about you and felt like he was finally out of the darkness, like a blind man trying to follow the sound of a beating heart. And your heart out of all.

ㅤAl Haitham hated fate more than anything, for if it existed, it meant the choices humans made were all already prescribed somewhere like a finished book with no room for change. Although he didn't really mind living a life like that, he also couldn't help but sometimes feel a bit rebellious.

ㅤBecause there was simply no way to explain the way you were always within the vicinity, no matter where he went to escape from this wretched play and relax, besides fate itself acting. You, and your dense smiles and thoughtless words.

ㅤHe held no hostility towards you, he told Kaveh one day, to which the blonde man could only but sigh in despair and exasperation.

ㅤ“Yes, yes, sure. Whatever you say! Not like you're just feeling this way because you can't understand them like you wished.”

ㅤThat made Al Haitham stop and think for a while. Was that really the real reason that seeing you and talking to you ignited such a flame in his heart? That he simply wished to understand why you had such innocent ways to see the world?

ㅤThe Scribe was known to be a blunt man, someone no one ever wished to cross paths on a normal happy day. But why, he just couldn't seem to want to break your worldview, and he could never say any harsh words to you. The shine in your eyes always stopped him before he could even open his mouth.

ㅤAnd before he even realized, he would get himself staring at you one too many times in silence, while you waited for his opinion on some book you had read. He would do things he never would before merely because you mentioned you liked them.

ㅤ“I like this brand of tea from Fontaine very much! It is very sweet.” Al Haitham remembered what you said one day while sitting by his side in the library, while he was pretending to read again.

ㅤ“It's bitter…” What was even wrong with your taste buds after all?

ㅤHe now could only stare at the romance books piling up on his desk, and the way you seemed to be scribbled on all of the sentences there. Your heart was ascribed to him in all his favorite pages and you were written with all his favorite words.

ㅤWhat was special about you and what made you different from others? He wasn't so sure, but at the same time he dared to say he didn't care.

ㅤHe even sometimes would write his name along yours before catching himself and wondering if he was going insane. And now, he could just smile helplessly.

ㅤIt was a wonder to everyone how sudden Al Haitham seemed to change, not knowing how much he had mulled over it before. The fact he loved you was something he eventually had to come to terms with, and once done, it was quite easy to go on.

ㅤIf someone told him before that one day he would fall this hard for someone, to the point that their presence would be like an apricity in his life and the panacea to all his woes, he would've scoffed at them.

ㅤHow foolish. He thought, but he still allowed you to intertwine your arm with his while strolling around the city. He still stroked your face with gentleness whenever he was close to you, still twirled your hair in his fingers when he got bored from his paperwork, while you sat by his side, involved in your own work.

ㅤEven so, Al Haitham didn't mind it at all. In fact, if fate gave him a chance to go back, he would do everything the same way again for it led to you. He didn't mind the looks people gave him after seeing his love for you, for even before he was already a lunatic. So may he be even more of a lunatic for you.

ㅤIndeed, fate didn't seem all that bad after a while. If it allowed you both to stay together for as long as he could, then Al Haitham, and you, didn't mind being entangled on such unexplainable and pointless things.

small extra:

“You're so troublesome, you know?”

He had once again been dragged into one of your shenanigans around the Akademiya, and obviously you had gotten caught. If it wasn't for his position as the Scribe, he could only fathom what would have happened instead.

It definitely wouldn't include you cheerfully walking besides him like this was the happiest day of your life.

“But you still gave me a very long speech about why you love me anyway on that day during my break from studies, remember?” No matter what, your words never failed to make him shut his mouth immediately.

If there was anyone in the world that could win an argument against the Scribe, that would be you.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ《☆》

˖ ࣪ Guys, thank you so so much for the 100 followers and the 1k notes on "when they lose you" post hehe, I never imagined myself getting this far into writing as I have always been quite insecure with the way I write the things that come into my mind but still, THANK YOU!!

also, thank you for reading this too 💗

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin fluff #genshin x reader #genshin x you #ayato x reader #xiao x reader #baizhu x reader #wriothesley x reader #al haitham x reader #genshin x gn!reader #ayato fluff #kamisato ayato x reader #xiao fluff #baizhu fluff #wriothesley fluff #al haitham fluff

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steddiecameraroll · 25 days

Text

“Whatever, now he’s just somebody that I used to know.” Steve shakes his head in annoyance.

Dustin won’t let it go. He’s still trying to get Steve to go with him to visit Eddie. As if he wants to travel across state lines to visit his ex boyfriend. Ex being the keyword.

“Yeah but he used to be your boyfriend. Come on, Steve. Eddie would be so surprised.”

“No shit. I’m sure he’d throw open the door and just be so elated to see me standing there. Toss his arms up and cheer with glee.” Steve swears Dustin better hear the sarcasm dripping from his tone.

“He will! I swear.”

“Have you absolutely lost it? Do you not remember how he broke up with me? He sent Jeff to my place to pick up his shit. Couldn’t even bother to do it himself. Then he changed his fucking number, Dustin. Does that sound like someone that would be happy to see me? He couldn’t risk the tiny chance that I would reach out to him. He went far enough to avoid me that he moved and didn’t say a fucking thing. So no, I won’t be joining you on this lovely weekend trip to Chicago. And for the love of god, stop asking me.” He punctuates his point by slamming the refrigerator door shut.

“Sorry, ok, I’ll stop.”

Steve glares over his shoulder at the boy. He can’t believe Dustin could have forgotten how painful their break up had been for Steve. Eddie dumping him out of the blue and subsequently disappearing like none of it meant anything to him. As if their relationship was just a smudge to be wiped away with a damp cloth.

Steve’s just made it to the angry stage of it all and for Dustin to completely disregard his feelings is especially crushing. He knows their relationship veers closer to a sibling connection. It’s why Dustin’s usual prodding doesn’t drive him as crazy as it does others but there is a time and place, and the subject matter of Eddie Munson is never an option. Not to Steve at least.

“I just thought-“

“Don’t,” Steve cuts the boy off. “It’s over. I’ve accepted it, you should too.”

Dustin nods silently with a twist to his mouth.

“I beg you, never speak to me about him ever again. If he wants to act like I don’t exist, then I get to do the same thing.”

“No, but Steve, that’s not- he asks about you all the time!” Dustin rushes out before Steve can strangle him.

Steve whips around scowling at the boy. “That’s not funny.”

“I’m not, no, he does! I swear, Steve.” Dustin rushes to keep up pace with Steve when he turns heel and rushes out of the kitchen.

“Stop it,” Steve grits out.

“I swear on my mother. Every time I call him he asks how you’re doing. Or what classes you’re taking. Or how your new job is.”

Steve’s fingers are digging into his palms as he fists his hands at his sides. He’s trying so hard not to lose his shit right now. He’s breathing heavy as Dustin stomps behind him down the hallway.

“I swear, just come with me. He misses you.”

“SHUT UP,” Steve spins around and yells in Dustin’s face. “No he doesn’t! No he doesn’t! If he did then he wouldn’t have done it. He wouldn’t have left without saying a word. He wouldn’t have ripped my heart out and destroyed me.” Steve’s anger is fizzing over into sorrow and he knows he’s failing at keeping the tears at bay.

“Steve?” Dustin’s voice cracks.

“NO!” Steve throws his finger in Dustin’s face. “I don’t want to hear it. I loved him and he betrayed me. He means nothing to me now. Nothing. Do you understand?” Dustin nods nervously. “He’s just some guy, now.”

Steve sighs with a heavy heart. Every muscle in his body is immediately exhausted. He thought he was done having to think about Eddie Munson. Thought he was past the point of letting the man get to him but here he is shaking profusely and on the verge of breaking down because Dustin is asking him to go on a road trip.

“Dustin, please.” Steve asks shakily. He’s so close to tears. “If you care about me even a little, you won’t do this to me. You don’t understand. He was just your friend, brother in arms and all. He was my-,” Steve chokes back the lump in his throat. “He was my everything. And if what you’re saying is true, then Eddie can try and fix this himself. He can get in his fucking piece of shit van and drive his goddamn ass back here and tell me himself. I’m the victim here. He did this so he can fix it. Now get out.”

“Steve,” Dustin pleads.

“No. Get. Out.”

Dustin nods solemnly then shuffles around gathering his things, and leaving Steve alone a few minutes later. Once Steve hears the front door close with a soft click, he collapses onto his couch and cries into one of the throw pillows.

#cw implied unhappy ending #post breakup #I watched that dancing TikTok to Gotye and had some feelings to get out #steddie #sad and hurt #steve harrington

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lainsshop · 3 months

Text

I’m Your Man ୨ৎ

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Tags: angst(?), established relationship, out of character(?) n probably more..

Song: I’m Your Man - Mitski

A/N: i really don’t know about this one.. give me your thoughts tho!

Alastor is known as a huge narcissist, sure but you were the only one who got to see the “real” him, not only the real murderous side of him but also the soft spot he has for you. You made him feel.. weak?

Ever since you two got together, he view you as you were apart of him like an accessory but also much more than that, his lover. He absolutely adored you, you really accepted his flaw self even if he doesn’t admit he doesn’t have flaws.

He never wanted to admit to so many things cause he believes one second of him showing his weak self will make his enemies aware of that and it will put him and yourself in even more danger.

You were also the only one who got to see him in a vulnerable state, which is rare to be honest. Maybe he doesn’t wanna worry you, he really doesn’t but every time he’s in that state he would always come to you and you will listen to his words.

“You’re an angel, I’m a dog,” He started to slowly say as you two were in the hotels library. The door was locked, the sound of rain and fire cracking could be heard and a sweet slow tune next to you as you play with his hair and ears carefully.

“… or your dog and I’m your man.” There was times were he gets.. poetic in some way. Luckily, you knew what the meaning of his words meant.

He didn’t looked at you in the eyes. “You believe me like a God,” He continued. “I’ll destroy you like I am-” Oh, he could. He could easily hurt you in a second, he doesn’t tho. You being so near to him is like a risk to both of you cause he never hesitates to do anything. Like that night..

“I’m sorry I’m the one you love..” You see, you two met when you were alive, you were a lil bit younger than him by that time and he involved you into his weird habits like killing people, cannibalism, so much more and then your death..

Deep down, he blamed himself for that. That night, he took you into the woods to hide a body, usually it went well but then you guys got mistaken as a deer and the hunter got you first.. he looked at you dead body and then- he woke up in hell.

He couldn’t even process what happened in that exact moment so when he appeared in hell, he wasn’t surprised at all but then he remembered you. He genuinely thought you went to heaven but then again.. you helped him so he looked around.

“No one will ever love me like you again, my dear,” He finally looked at you as he grabbed you hand and gave it a small kiss. “So when you leave me, I should die.. I deserve it, don’t I?”

You froze a bit at that. You looked at him with a surprised, shocked and worried expression. “Al-” “I can feel it gettin’ near like flashlights comin’..” You wanted to tell him how much you meant you him, how even if he’s not the affectionate type or how much of a bad he is, you still loved him ever since the day you met but-

“One day, you’ll figure me out..” There was apart him that you really didn’t knew and he feared that. He feared that one day you’ll know more about him, more deeper about him and leave him. You knew his murderous way, yes but do you actually?

“I’ll meet judgement by the hounds,” A silent scratchy static could be heard as he said the last word. He was still smiling as he spoke.

“You always gave me love, you were never to blame after all, mon ange..” He looked at you with a bit of sad soft eyes as he cups your cheek and his thumb strokes your under eye.

The sudden sound of dogs start to appear outside in the rain. You two looked at each other as you had watery eyes trying not to get emotional or anything. There was silence between you two until-

“You believe me like a God-” A tear fell down your cheek. You suddenly hug him, not too tight, just enough to show him that you cared about him and you didn’t care how he really is.

He started to caress your hair. “I’ll betray you like a man.”

#alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel

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gojhoes · 4 months

Text

“come one, come all”

summary: It’s the eighth annual haunted house held by your boyfriend’s university theatre program. You decide to pay it a visit in support of Gojo, but what happens when you get lost and find yourself alone with him in the Blue Room?

- contents: NSFW, MDNI. fem!reader x gojo, all characters in their early 20s, college student au, gojo is a theatre major, established relationship, dom gojo, sub reader, sex in a public place, smut, dirty talk (sacrilege, tbh), gojo speaks in quotes, p-in-v (why not), praise kink, unprotected sex, masque of the red death theme - wc: ~4k

Having been in the same year in high school, you knew very well of Gojo's affinity for pulling pranks. You also knew, however, that sometimes he could take it just a little too far.

It wasn't unusual to come home after a grueling day of exams to get jump-scared by Gojo before getting into the shower. More than once, he'd claimed to have stood behind doors for up to 30 minutes just so he could leap out and scare you as you walked by. Not to mention the time he'd camped out in the backseat of your car after overhearing that you were about to leave to meet Shoko somewhere. You'd come pretty close to accidentally stabbing him over that, and you made him promise not to do it again. But still, every time you got in the car, you peeked over your shoulder just to make sure there were no surprises.

October, the second month of autumn in the Northern Hemisphere and arguably your favorite of them all, had come at last. The changing of the leaves, the merciful drop in temperature, and new scents in the air were all pleasant. But the main reason you loved it so was Halloween.

It wasn't until you were well into your new relationship with Satoru that you discovered your love for the holiday was something he reciprocated. His university's theatre program held a haunted house annually, which he'd participated in religiously since his freshman year. So, being the supportive girlfriend you were, of course, you agreed to pay him a visit with all your friends.

The morning before your ticket for the haunted house was valid, Gojo waltzed up behind you as you stood naked in front of the bathroom mirror. He slithered his arms around your waist and rested his head on your shoulder, leaving sweet kisses all over your bare skin. Being that it was opening night, his day was starting early with back-to-back dress rehearsals. This meant he wouldn't be joining in the shower, as was usual, and that you would be alone until it was time to meet with Nanami and Shoko later. He was already dressed in his costume- a burned, destroyed, fake-bloodied ensemble that represented nothing in particular. It didn't matter to you, though. He could've been wearing rags and he'd still be the prettiest man you'd ever had the pleasure of looking at.

"Wear something cute tonight," he'd murmured into your ear before giving you a teasingly chaste kiss and heading out the door. For Satoru, 'cute' meant slutty, or something with easy access like a skirt with no panties. The implication sent your heart aflutter and resultantly, you were left distracted the entire day.

In the car, you tried desperately to pull down the skirt as it relentlessly rode up and threatened to expose your bare ass. Shoko had been able to convince Nanami to drive you, much to your surprise. Getting him to do anything outside of school hours was about as pleasant as pulling teeth, but with Shoko's promise to buy him a couple of beers, he'd eventually agreed without much grumbling.

Gojo had warned you that it would be packed for opening night, so the best course of action was to come early. Turns out, this one was one of the rare times when his advice had been useful, as the ticket line damn near wrapped around the block as you approached the haunted house itself. There were no phones allowed in the house per university rules, so Nanami offered to take yours before you took off inside.

"Aren't you coming?" you asked, a last-ditch effort to try and convince him to join.

"Absolutely not," Nanami replied stubbornly. "I'm here as the designated driver only."

Your face fell in disappointment, but you knew better than to try to argue with Kento Nanami.

You, Shoko, and 50 of your closest friends filed into a room much too small to house such an amount. The walls were painted to look like blood-spattered wood, and you could just make out the motifs of several different doors. Any trace of sunlight seemed to be sucked away the moment you entered, truly adding to the effect. You were impressed with the design thus far, feeling inclined to agree with Satoru's claims of his theatre program being The Best.

"I'm bugging out," Shoko said to your left.

"You claustrophobic?"

She gave you a look as if to say, "are you stupid?", and you raised your hands defensively. More and more people kept spilling into the room, squeezing you impossibly closer to the wall. There had to be at least 100 or more patrons occupying the space now, but there was no sign that the outer doors were going to close anytime soon.

A random frat boy tripped and crashed into Shoko, which not only pissed you off but also happened to be her last straw. She ignored the boy's attempt at an apology, all the color draining from her face in an instant. Her brown eyes were wide with fear as she sputtered out,

"Fuck this. I'm getting the fuck out of here."

Before you could get the chance to call after her, she turned quickly and hurried toward the way you'd come in. The crowd was impossibly thick, and she moved so fast in her panic that you were unable to catch up. Just as you made it to the edge of the crowd, the loud sound of a gong rang throughout the room at an ear-splitting volume.

Right before your eyes, the large doors swung inward with a melodramatic creaking, bathing the overly crowded room in complete darkness. At least Shoko had made it out safely. For a moment, nothing happened aside from the illumination of several dim lamps overhead. You thought that maybe someone had missed their cue, but then a sound sweeter than singing angels filled the room: Satoru's voice.

“Quiet, brats!” he boomed. The room fell silent in an instant- even you had to admit that the command sent a slight chill down your spine. You concluded that his voice was being carried over a set of speakers, as your boyfriend's familiar tall frame was nowhere to be seen.

“Our university’s theatre department would like to welcome you to its eighth annual haunted house.”

There was an awkward pause, and you heard someone cough.

“APPLAUSE, brats!”

You joined the others in a series of claps and forced cheers, smiling to yourself. No wonder Satoru enjoyed this so much; he was perfect for it. In your mind’s eye, you could see his lit-up face as he bellowed into a microphone in some nearby room.

He knew your time slot already, but you'd shot him a quick text to let him know you'd arrived before leaving your phone with Nanami to go in. You wondered if he’d spotted you yet, thinking maybe you should wave or something. Surely there had to be cameras in the room.

"'One thing I do dislike, are cowards'," Satoru went on. “However, because of your precious laws, emergency exits are marked in every section. As you proceed through the house, follow the WHITE ARROWS. Does everybody get that? WHITE. ARROWS. Everyone, repeat it so we get your verbal acknowledgment.”

In unison, the crowd obediently droned out ‘white arrows’, and you fought back a giggle at the absolute kick he must’ve been getting out of this.

“Wonderful!” Gojo cried, pretending to make his voice break emotionally. “Doing so well already, brats, makin’ me proud.”

He cleared his throat as murmurs of laughter floated through the room.

"NOW!" he shouted abruptly. "After I stop talking, the doors will open. There are seven of them, so choose carefully because God knows what might lie beyond the wrong one.

"And remember," he crooned. "'Hell is empty, and all the devils are here.'"

A dramatized rendition of his signature snicker warped into deep, evil laughter as several doors opened on the room’s other three walls. The house-goers around you burst into nervous laughter and excited chatter as groups decided which way they would go. You trailed behind a group of high school girls on the premise that they'd likely be safer to follow than the frat boys you'd seen earlier.

It was a tight fit, to say the least. You found yourself at the back of the line as the holding room emptied and patrons passed over the various thresholds. The door you'd chosen to enter led into a long, dark hallway with, as promised, an arrow slathered on the floor in white paint. The same dim lanterns hung from the ceiling in intervals, though they did little in terms of providing much brightness.

The group of girls you'd chosen to follow turned abruptly into the first room off the side of the hall. It was a room painted completely in the dimmest of blue light, casting an eerie glow over your skin. It was a grand chamber, with impossibly tall ceilings and a chandelier hanging in the middle. You were unsure if it was the hued lightbulbs and lack of other illumination, but every prop in the room seemed to match in shade. You traipsed around the edges of the room, peeking at every object from the cerulean breakaway chairs to royal books and faux food.

When you glanced up in search of a guiding arrow, you found that you were completely alone. The girls you'd been dead set on trailing had disappeared. How was that even possible? You'd stopped only for a minute to look. Just moments ago, you’d been surrounded by people, trapped in a suffocating cloud of body heat and bad breath. It was so cold now in comparison, so dark, and so quiet. There wasn’t a shred of decent light in the room and having left your phone with Nanami, you had nothing in the way of a flashlight. You started feeling your way toward the wall to guide yourself when a familiar voice spoke, and your blood ran cold.

"I was hoping you'd go with that one."

You gasped at the sudden tickle of Satoru's breath on the back of your neck. Where had he even come from? The disappearance of your fellow patrons suddenly made sense as you dawned on the thrilling realization that you two were completely alone.

"You told me to dress cute," you replied, fighting to keep your voice steady.

Satoru chuckled, low and breathy, and you felt the fine hairs on your neck stand up straight. "And that you did, didn't you? Always so good for me."

His praising words sent a wave of heat straight to the space between your legs. He wasn't yet touching you, though you could feel the warmth of his body from behind. You didn't dare move, having all but frozen under the weight of his proximity. Blood roared in your ears as your arousal burned low in your abdomen. Just his presence was enough to make you forget where you were in only the minute he'd gotten you alone.

"Always," you affirmed shakily.

You felt him move forward and close the space separating your bodies, his hips pressing against your ass. You willed your hands to remain at your sides and the air felt thick and hot, not unlike how the holding room had been just a few minutes ago. Something hard between his legs poked at your flesh and if you'd had any, your panties would've been soaked from that occurrence alone.

"'If you love me,'" Satoru murmured, his wet lips brushing against your neck. "'Then you will keep my commandments.'"

There were so many things about Satoru that were hot. His body, the charm, and his pretty face. But the way he’d sometimes speak in quotes and passages was by far his most attractive virtue. Perhaps some found it cringe-worthy, but the words slipped off Satoru’s tongue like honey and you hung off the end of each one.

“I love you,” you said, surer of that statement than of any other you’d uttered in your life.

His tongue and teeth took turns connecting with the soft skin of your neck. His pretty mouth latched on, sucking gently on your most sensitive spot as a hand landed on your side. You leaned into his touch, long fingers toying with the fabric of your skirt as they crept up your thigh. He trailed teasingly over every inch of skin you had to offer, and goosebumps erupted over the entirety of your leg. You heard him let out a sigh when his hand reached your bare hip under the skirt.

"Such a good girl," he said in a low voice. "Always doing exactly as I tell you to do."

"Satoru," you whined as his fingers flitted over your clit, which throbbed persistently in protest of the lack of stimulation.

"Shhh, keep it down," Gojo chastised in a whisper, circling his free arm around your waist. He pulled you into him roughly and you let out a small squeak. "Think of all those people who might hear. Don't want to scare them, do you?"

You opened your mouth to reply, only to slap your hand over it to stifle a moan when he slipped two fingers into you without warning. Your other hand grasped at the wall, searching for something, anything to grab to help cope with the sudden intensity of your pleasure.

"So wet," Satoru said softly, approval dripping from his tone. "All for me."

The hand crushing you against him slid down from your abdomen to your hip, creeping over agonizingly slow to rub circles on your achy clit. You relaxed into him instantly, the relief sending tingles through your whole being as he took his time fucking you on his fingers. His cock was painfully hard through the thin layers of clothing that separated him from you. You trusted him to hold you upright, retracting your steadying hand from the wall to reach down and palm at him behind you. As if rewarding you, the tips of his fingers curled against that sweet spot that made you dizzy, and you whimpered pathetically.

Your back still pressed to his chest, you fumbled over the waistband of his costume pants as you blindly slipped your hand inside. His cock strained against the fabric of his briefs so hard that you almost pitied him, already wishing to relieve him of the clothes and have him buried inside of you. You pulled his underwear down enough that you could feel the curve of him, running a single finger over what you could touch of the shaft. He laughed breathily into your ear, praising you for touching him even in such a difficult position.

That familiar twinge in your cunt drew a deep, unwarranted moan out of you. The sound rang throughout the room loudly enough that it distracted you from your pleasure. Were you really about to fuck in this very public haunted house? The door was wide open and while it was very dark, there was nothing stopping anyone from entering. You turned your head and pawed at Satoru's chest pathetically to get his attention.

"What if someone comes in?" you babbled in a fleeting moment of clarity, searching his face for any sign of fear.

Satoru rolled his icy blue eyes affectionately, though his tone was deliciously condescending when he replied,

"Then I guess someone will see me fucking you in the Blue Room. Isn't it ironic that we're doing such an act in the one that's supposed to represent birth?"

After one final curl of his fingers, he retracted them in an instant, leaving you understimulated and clenching around nothing. He nudged you in encouragement to face him, to look upon his lust-clouded eyes and flushed cheeks. You held his gaze, knowing that if you didn’t, you'd be punished, as Satoru guided your mouth open with the fingers he'd just fucked you with. He loved to see you taste yourself, half-devoted to getting you addicted to it. And you, always aiming to please him, licked them clean in earnest.

"Good," he praised, wiping the appendages dry on his pants leg. "Now lay down for me."

You whirled around and let him guide you downward so that your chest was flush against the tabletop and your ass faced the ceiling. You heard the telltale brushing of fabric as he freed himself from his pants and let them bunch around his ankles. He teased his hardened cock against your clit, knowing how much it drove you crazy when you were already so frustrated.

You whined impatiently. "Satoru, please-"

A gasp escaped your lips and interrupted your plea as large hands latched onto either of your hips and jerked you backward suddenly. His chest brushed your back as he leaned over you, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he spoke.

"Quiet, baby," he cooed. "I'd hate for us to get interrupted."

Just the idea of having to stop right now was enough to send you to your wit’s end. You dedicated what was left of your focus to keeping your lips pressed tightly together to trap any sounds that might escape through them. With how wet you were, you could only imagine how unhinged Satoru had become. With the knowledge of what was to come, you gripped the edge of the table with both hands to steady yourself.

The risk of getting caught was imminent, and even if he acted like he didn't care, Gojo wasted no time in sliding into you. You took all of him at once, swallowing hard to keep an instinctive moan at bay. He was struggling too, it seemed, as you heard air expressed sharply through his nose the moment he bottomed out. His pleasure always amplified your own and you felt yourself clench at the sound. It was a sick satisfaction, knowing that he was feeling as good as you did because of you.

He fucked you slow at first, pulling out till only his cockhead remained, and sliding back in at a teasingly hesitant pace. You knew he would have to make it quick, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to have his fun with you. Impatient little whines replaced the noisy complaints you normally gave him when he teased you. Gojo loved to make you beg, but the thrill of taking you in such a public setting would fill the need for now.

Satoru settled into a pace that had you melting into the table, especially when two of his fingers found themselves rubbing your clit just as consistently. He knew exactly what to do to get you off, his tempo never stuttering even when his own pleasure clouded any rationality he might've held. You kept your back arched low, following his lead as he pounded into you roughly.

"You feel good, baby?" he asked, his voice a strained whisper.

You nodded quickly, distrusting of your ability to remain quiet. It was always good, even when you didn't get to take your time and work each other up to the breaking point. Despite his unrelenting nature, the way in which he held you was gentle, and he knew how to read your body even better than you did.

It was too much, the length of him, the speed of his fingers on your clit, not being able to express yourself vocally. You felt stunted like you were unable to get the stimulation you needed to achieve your release. Too much, yet not enough, but you told yourself to trust Satoru. He always promised he would take care of you.

"Look at me."

He didn't give you much of a choice. Gojo's hand cupped your chin and guided it backward so that your eyes were staring directly into his. The telltale pink flush on his cheeks was visible through the many layers of white stage makeup. The horribly painted-on clown eyes were smudged around his pale lashes, but the wild lust in his expression was all you cared to notice as you fluttered around him in a way that signaled you were close.

"I want to see your pretty face when I make you cum right next to all these people."

You shoved a hand in your mouth to muffle the involuntary moans as you came. The roiling waves of pleasure rushed over your body as your cunt clenched rhythmically around Satoru's cock. He grinned at you widely as he fucked you through your orgasm, reveling in the way your body went rigid under his own. His own washed over him without much difficulty; a few moments later his lower lip was caught between his teeth as he grunted with the effort it took not to moan himself. His pace picked up rapidly as he gasped.

"Ahh- 'm gonna cum," he said breathlessly.

You relished in the feeling as he emptied himself inside of you, hot and twitching as he painted your walls with his seed. The grip on your hips was near bruising as if the shape of your bones beneath his hands was the only thing tethering him to this earth. You remained in that position, both of you panting as you came down from your high. Even with him still sheathed inside of you, you could feel the astronomical amount of cum pooling there. Just how pent-up had he been?

He slid out of you slowly, the lack of his bodily warmth adding to the heartbreakingly empty feeling as he did so. Before you could even think of moving to get to your feet, Satoru aggressively slid two of his fingers back into you. He didn't like to waste a single drop of his cum, shoving what little had begun to trickle out back inside.

"There," he said retracting them once more, satisfied now that you were properly filled. "'ll help you up."

He smoothed your skirt down over the tops of your thighs and reached for your arms to guide you into a standing position. His hands found your waist as he pulled you into him, nuzzling your hair and breathing deeply. Your head grew fuzzy at the feeling of his cum beginning to seep out of your cunt once again. You let him hold you in a hug that encapsulated both your body and soul.

Satoru drew you away from him, smiling when he glimpsed your face.

"Aw, baby," he said softly. "You're such a mess."

You brought a hand to your face to feel something sticky beneath your eyes, likely mascara that you'd smudged. Your cheeks were already flushed from his incessant fucking, not to mention the sticky warmth trailing down your inner thighs. You could only imagine the state of your lipstick.

"Not my fault," you protested, attempting to smooth out your disheveled hair.

"It is your fault," Gojo corrected, tapping your nose with his index finger. "For wearing that skirt and letting me catch you."

Your face drew up in a pout, to which he grinned devilishly. He pulled you into him once more, peppering kisses all over your face and squeezing you tight. You tried to fight him off in lieu of your already tousled hair, but even your stubbornness was no match for his strength.

His breath tickled your ear as he whispered, "What are our friends going to think?"

Somehow, your face burned hotter at his words. When you finally forced yourself to break away from him, he let you out through one of the emergency exits to find Nanami and Shoko. They looked appalled at your appearance, and you silently cursed Satoru for using you so roughly. They demanded to know what happened, and you couldn't very well tell them the truth.

"I just got really scared," you lied. "They made me cry. Fucking jerks."

Even though he wasn't there, you could hear Gojo's laughter in your ears at such a stupid response.

#my aot obsession is still very much active #jjk #jjk smut #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x you #jjk x reader smut #inspired by another fic #modern au #college au #jjk modern au #jjk college au #gojo smut #gojo x reader smut

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alastorsfuckassbob · 4 months

Text

You're Never Fully Dressed-

Alastorxfem!reader

oh boy everyone's favorite! Please I have never written before, I just figured I'd give it a shot it was 1:35 and I was not feeling sleepy so an hour later here it is, its not edited so SORRY ABOUT THAT- all of my friends are normal and would definitely not proof read this hot garbo!

Basic Plot!! Yikes another song fic i know i KNOWW, the reader knew our good pal Al in her life but oopsies he "left" her (he died duh) and now shes taking a sad hot girl bubble bath to reminisce!!

Lyrics are bolded, past events Italics for the most part.

ALSO Please DNI if you're a minor k thanks bye!! You are responsible for your own internet consumption, so here are the warnings! If you don't want to view that ✨dont✨

Warnings include:

-Swearing

-Violence

-Alcohol Use but not abuse! (its hell duh)

-Abusive Relationships

-Slight Innuendo but not a strong one!

-Angst

The fire danced, flitting left and right. It was different than any other fire set in hell, it wasn't meant to hurt anyone or destroy anything. It was just a small flame, melancholically melting the dripping wax down the white lilac scented pillar. Floral scents were hard to come by unless you made them yourself, it was hell after all, its not like theres a flower garden planted on every corner. The candles single wick didn't produce more than a drop of light. It just flickered every now and then, entertaining its own little lonesome sway. Your demeanor softened as you looked at it from the petal filled bath you currently resided in.

Oddly you felt at peace, understood, almost comforted. You had learned to dance the same way it seemed. You caught yourself when you fell, twisting and turning to please an audience. It was a cruel existence. At least the flame looked content in some way, at least it would never know what it was like to contort under the will of another. Yet it was still a light in darkness, shining for no other reason than to survive...All it could ever do was take, even if it didn't want to, fire needs to burn. To burn it must destroy. You sighed sinking deeper into the bubbly water. You didn't want to think about your past. Not anymore. You didn't have to anymore anyway. Life had not been kind to you and that constant displeasure followed you through your death and into the pits of hell. Funny how suffering could follow biting desperately at your heels and the man who was so "desperately" in love with you in life just couldn't find it within himself to stay...God you sounded bitter. To be fair you were. After all he had ruined your life and he didn't even know it...It wasn't that bad was it? You probably would still be in hell regardless, even without his "involvement" or lack of- you had always been a sinner. It wasn't worth it to be upset, not anymore he's most likely dead, you definitely are, whose to say if he'd even wind up down here. You paused a moment, laughing at the silly conclusion overthinking had led you to.. no that fucker is definitely in hell. Sweet as he was up front, he had a dark side that went much deeper than his soft exterior could cover. You closed your eyes..

1923- Central New Orleans

Suddenly it was 1923. The flower lined streets of late spring in New Orleans. His smile never wavering as he dragged you from store to store. As your dear companion, and biggest supporter, he had asked you to assist him at the radio station. Now that you had finished school you would need a job anyway. You'd always had a beautiful voice and a knack for writing. It just made sense. His hand squeezed yours lightly pulling you from your thoughts. In his hands, he held a burgundy day dress and a matching bow.

"Darling, would you try this on for me? I believe it is high time you were rewarded for all of your hard work. I believe you would simply sparkle in this color"

You smile softly at his gentle tone, taking the delicate dress in your hands. You find yourself caught in his eyes. It feels like you two are the only people on the planet

You feel the familiar sensation of tears on your face, you open your eyes again, you hadn't realized you'd started crying.

you let out the shrill scream you didn't know you were holding in. the fluke of champagne you had so tediously been savoring since you began your bath cracked slightly. You downed the rest of the glass, and grabbed the bottle sitting lazily on the floor. You didn't want to think about him or your life anymore...but it consumed you. You had so many more important things to fret about in your..current..environment. Songs to sing, bitches to kill, people to fuck. A grand glorious array of newer shinier problems, and yet you were stuck sulking about the past. You take a deep breath shaking slightly despite the warm vanilla scented water surrounding you. You remove your hand from the water motioning to the shadow hiding behind a vase (of no more than slightly wilted roses). It slinks forward at your beckoning, climbing to the white marble countertop of your vanity, it clicks the worn down knob of your rickety old radio. light jazzy music trickles out and fills the air with lovesick nostalgia you weren't entirely prepared to let in. No matter what he had done...you would always fall back to him. Even if he was nothing more than ill-fated failed fourteen year "endeavor". fourteen years is quite a long time, even if the majority of it was spent more or less platonically. You really did love him. Love doesn't always follow those that leave, you are testimony and truth to that. You let your mind wander guided by the static filled notes of the radio.

Hey, hobo man

Hey, Dapper Dan

You've both got your style

But brother

You're never fully dressed

Without a smile!

Even through the shudder of the static, it really did sound like him. Despite being the "host" of the station. He had his fair share of performances. For such a Hell bound soul he had the voice of an angel.

You close your eyes once again and allow the melody to take you back to an easier time.

1926- New Orleans, Your apartment

You sing along with whatever tune the radio gives you. You're at peace, simply existing for no other reason than to be with your friend.

"Dance with me my little canary, your voice lights a fire within me"

He pulls you in by the waist. His hands splayed across your hips holding them with a gentleness you'd never expected him to hold for you. He leans his head down against the yours and places a chaste kiss on your forehead

"Alastor" you giggle, the sensation tickling you slightly. "You are quite ridiculous"

"Ridiculous?" he feigns hurt. "My darling I am so far from ridiculous the word does not find sense within my ears" he spins you around and into his chest, you roll your eyes ignoring his antics

"Dearest are you aware you are speaking with the future of radio?"

"The future of radio? Please Love, don't jest. The 20s surely have more in store than you" You laugh into his chest and he shockingly laughs with you.

Neither of you know it but you are both so drunk on the sound. To you, his laugh sounds like the swift church bells that used to ring throughout your home town whenever someone got married. It feels familiar and yet like a distant memory. It makes you want to hear it over and over again until your ears stop working, and even then you'd settle in just fine feeling the vibrations of his chest. He sounds like home. To him, your laugh sounds like the rushing creek and smooth algae covered stones resting deep beneath the trees draped in Spanish moss of his mothers cabin in the woods. Just hearing your laugh he can feel the spotted sunlight speckling his freckled face underneath the big willow tree. You sound like home. Everything about you- it felt like home to him. His hands were crafted to hold soft curves of your body. His ears were made to hear your voice and your voice alone. You were purpose, his home. You don't know it, but it is that realization that sparked the idea of marriage into his heart.

That fire was put out not long after.

You at least had those nine years as his friend, three years as his "copain" if you will- and two years as his fiancée...and so many years alone. You only spent 14 years in the company of this man. You had lived before knowing him a good 17 years, and a good long bit after.

Why were you so stuck?

You hum along subconsciously, the objects in your bathroom begin to glow a familiar pink, levitating slightly in the air as you continue to hum. Your ability isn't weak by any means, but for some reason you were. You were nothing in comparison to hells overlords, especially the newest trio of Vs. Your power is so deeply connected to your voice, how can you hold power when it doesn't belong to you anymore? You drift back to the memory of your arrival. Scared, alone, dressed a great deal less than modestly, and equipped with nothing more than a pair of horns, some wings you couldn't quite use yet, and a thin devil like tail. It was only your third hour in hell. You didn't understand the rules. You were playing a twisted game in which you didn't realize you were just another piece of.

Shock can make a person anxious and fear will make them stupid. He was tall and smelled distinctly of cigars, soured whiskey, and something pungently sweet you couldn't name. It burned your nose as you inhaled it. You would become well aquatinted with the smell of lust in the years to come, you just didn't know it yet. It seemed innocent at first, just a simple contract, no different than a job. All you had to do was sing and dance at a club, in exchange for safety. But it was different and it wasn't innocent. He was cruel and yet no different than so many of the men you had dealt with in life. He agreed to your terms of anonymity and thats about it. You had your private life and his life. Valentino never played fair. You didn't know that yet, and now you're hells favorite sinner, a least no one knew it was you. If he had asked you another day later you would have realized you could have probably fended for yourself, with some difficulty anyway. At least you wouldn't have to be in this mess. You wouldn't be fucking six people before noon. You wouldn't be constantly covered in bruises and scars...Maybe you could have found him, Alastor that is. Maybe you could have at least been friends again. Its silly to hope for anything more since your romantic relationship ended...✨the way it did✨

Your clothes may be Beau Brummelly

They stand out a mile

But brother

You're never fully dressed

Without a smile!

1931- New Orleans, The river

The two of you sit beside each other in a small wooden row boat. Your hair is tied back with your signature crimson ribbon. He fiddles with the pocket of his jacket. The Louisiana soundscape of crickets, frogs and running water accompanies your conversation. Fireflies light up the air, almost bringing the stars down to your fingertips. With a buzz and a gentle green glow, the small creature lands on your hand. Your smile leaks wonderment and Alastor can hardly contain the love he feels for you.

As a Radio Host, he is quite agile in the way of words, yet something about you has him constantly at a loss. He takes a deep breath, unsure of what to say his voice wavers as he begins to speak.

"y/n, I want to thank you for the effect you've had in my lif-"

"My love look at the stars!" You didn't mean to cut him off, Your arms stretched upwards your face turning to meet his. The stars were so much brighter then they were in the city, it was only natural for you to be excited

"Yes doll, I see them, they're the same as they were last night and many many nights before hand"

You let out an impatient huff

"that doesn't make them any less beautiful." a mischievous glint hides in your eyes "now wouldn't it be so dreadfully terrible if I got bored looking at you just because I've already seen you before?" You fake a yawn and look at him eyes seething with boredom

"It would be so dreadful considering I was about to propose to you"

There is no other word to describe what you felt other than shocked. You had been an item for quite some time, but you never figured he would stick around (and "seal the deal" if you will).

Tears begin to run down your face rambling small words of agreement and love. You had never expected him to..love you that way. He was who he was, a dreadfully popular radio host, and you weren't really anything more than an assistant. People really only listened for him..yet in this moment, he was speaking only for you.

"I love you so dearly my y/n. If life without you exists I do not want to exist through it"

Who cares what they're wearing

On Main Street

Or Saville Row

1934: New Orleans, Alastor's house

The house was empty. He was gone. Fully and truly gone. It had been a year since you'd seen or heard from him and six months since the birth of your son. It didn't feel like your house, it didn't feel like your life anymore. It was all still his. His things still bled into your side of the closet, his last purchase, a book, dust encrusted and unread. The blankets and pillows set on the couch exactly as you both had left them after falling asleep to the rain the night before he left wordlessly. You found yourself sporting one of his shirts more often than your own...until eventually they didn't smell like him anymore. The whole house used to reek of his signature vanilla smell. Theres nothing left here but dust and the crooked board of the desk he insisted he could build himself "just fine".

It's what you wear from ear to ear

And not from head to toe

That matters

1936- New Orleans; ✨that shitty bar you performed at✨

"Get the fuck up you bitch"

You felt his hand tangle in your hair and pull you to your knees. All you could do was groan in pain.

"I'm so sorry it won't happen again I promise"

You mutter almost to yourself. He rolls his eyes shoving you into the counter smashing a glass in the process. Your vision blurs for a second seeing the glass shards decorating your h/c locks in a halo. You feel the blood trickle down your forehead.

"Do you think anyone else would hire you? A whore with nothing to her name and a useless ugly bastard child from god knows who?" You feel angered at his words. Insulting you is one thing, but your child?

But then it sinks in, he's right. The 30s are a sick decade, nothing progressive about them. No one else would hire you. You are lucky to work here..despite it all. You tell yourself anything is better than living on the streets. The mantra doesn't dull the pain but it makes it easier to put up with. You don't have a choice. You have a child to take care of.

"Get rid of him"

you stay silent unsure if you heard him correctly.

"Get rid of the boy. I don't care if you leave him in a box on the street or kill him yourself"

He reaches for a small silver knife under the bar's counter. He places it against your throat.

" y/n..You won't like it if I do it dearest, besides you are saving him the shame of having a mother like you. At least if he's adopted elsewhere he has a chance at a half decent life" he took a deep swig from his un-shattered glass of whiskey, looking at you with such deep distain.

You had never hated anyone the way you hated that man..But he was right. You would never be able to give your baby the best life. It would never get better because you couldn't make it better. So you found a young couple not to far from New Orleans, they took him in, and he got to be happy. he ended up living a successful life. He still is. If nothing else theres that. You know your own misery doesn't automatically allow others to be happier, but at times its what keeps you going.

Your mind is flooded with more and more thoughts. Thousands of little memories pilling themselves on top of you. Who would've thought, even deceased, even owned by Valentino, even trapped in an ever so violent place, the real plight of hell would be your thoughts. You light a cigarette and get out of the tub. You throw on a dark red robe and sit on the vanity's counter to brush your damp hair. The song continues into a jazzy interlude before it reprises again

Your clothes may be Beau Brummelly

They stand out a mile

But, brother

You're never fully dressed

You're never dressed

Without a smile

You stretch out your wings in the mirror, looking at your demonic self. No matter how many times you catch yourself in the mirror, even after ten years of this hellish existence. It still strikes you as odd. You look more or less the same. The same hair color and skin tone, although slightly more grey. The tail was just fucking weird no matter how long you had it. The song erupts into the finale distracting you from your thoughts. You begin to sing along with it, smiling softly. It really does sound like him. The same pink glow takes over the room as well as your body, Your eyes begin to glow that same soft pink, your hair floating above your shoulders.

Who cares what they're wearing

On Main Street

Or Saville Row

It's what you wear from ear to ear

And not from head to toe

You're never fully dressed without a smile

The last line comes out much quieter than the rest. A sense of sadness overtakes you once again as you realize how pathetic this whole night turned out. You'd spent the whole night "Simping", as Velvette would say, over a relationship that ended decades ago. Yikes. The static from the radio clicks up a few notches, You cover your ears at the sudden noise. You quickly reach for the dial in order to turn off the device..And then you hear it. You hear him.

"Dearest.." Its almost unintelligible through the static

You think you've finally fucking lost it. Ten years in Hell and you've officially gone "delulu"...another Velvette saying but it feels fitting.

“y/n.”

He called softly, the static in his voice heavy and nearly unreadable.

You almost didn't believe it.

"Y/n" He repeats the static fizzling out leaving his voice raw and almost natural. Fuck this was real. You didn’t respond. You didn’t know how to. You weren't sure if he could even hear you..how he would respond? Would it be worse if he did? It had been an entire decade since you fell, All of this time- he never bothered to contact you. Why now? Why so much later?... Had he forgotten about you? Did he just..die? You cant discern which is worse...that he had left you and your son and lived a long guilt free life...or that he made no attempt to even speak to you in the decade you had inhabited the same existence.

Ok that was all like exposition and shit..considering part two but I AM VERY TIRED RN

#alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #fanfic #god this is kinda ass #tumblr is my shit hole and i will scream whatever I want into the void #lol what even is this #alastor died oops #y/n #y/n fics are my last mental defense before massive decline

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achelouise · 4 days

Text

To you, My Lady

fandom: hsr

pairing: gallagher/FEM!reader

warnings: SPOILERS FOR 2.2 AND WRITTEN BEFORE 2.3

a/n: this may be the weirdest and most far-fetched I've ever written in terms of character interpretation, but I just needed to get something out of my system after playing 2.2, I cried like a little bitch

“You’re a History Fictionologist.”

Gallagher doesn’t respond. He should’ve known. You’ve always been too perceptive, no matter how much you mask yourself as a mess.

He doesn’t turn around. He doesn’t have to; he knows the crease in your eyebrows, the raging hurt that is locked behind your frowning lips, tears prickling from the corners of your eyes. He has memorized it by heart, when he had broken your heart on several occasions.

He warned you. He had shut you down when you presented him with a bouquet of flowers, he left you to pack up your date meal on more times he can count, and barked out a condescending laugh every time you show him something you created.

And yet, you stayed. You tried to make this one-sided relationship work, and Gallagher doesn’t understand why. He also doesn’t understand why he didn’t straight-up push you away.

“Finally worked that brain of yours?” he snorts, “‘Bout time.”

Gallagher- he is merely a creation born from another pair of hands. He is a toy, a pawn, with a singular ambition; to make sure The Order never crafts their perfect world, a predetermined disaster.

Perhaps he is the creator. Perhaps he is the creation. He is a branch of the History Fictionologist.

A lie ceases to exist when the truth comes to light. His death is gradual, but he feels the instantaneous switch. The soft pull of the abyss, gently taking a part of carefully-mended facade. It won’t be so kind when the final hour comes. He’s sure you know, too.

This is expected, though. He has a meeting with Sunday later, and he will take him to Dreamflux Reef. There, he will bid the people he barely knew goodbye, and he will leave a single hound to watch over the old man.

He will have played his part.

Why did he delude you into thinking you two had a future together?

“Well.” You are clearly trying to hold back tears. The pathetic display wants to make him laugh. He doesn’t. He still doesn’t turn around. “This is it, then?”

Gallagher polished a glass. “There was never ‘this’, hun.”

“But I’ve seen the way you look at me.” you insist, “You aren’t as emotionally detached as you think you are.”

He pours in High Stakes, and plays around with the drink in the glass. “I didn’t think you were this dumb, love. You deluded yourself into thinkin’ we were something more. We’re not. To me, you’re as important as a passerby in this dreamscape.”

“Then why did you stay?” Your voice cracks. “Why didn’t you push me away?”

He drops in a dash of classic SoulGlad. “Hm. Maybe because you looked too pathetic. I dunno. I don’t feel much of anything.”

“And why are you leaving now?”

You sounded far too heartbroken, beyond the stricken looks you give him on a daily basis.

“‘Cuz you realized my identity. In a day or two, my form will be destroyed. I’ll continue exploring the cosmos in another body.” He squeezes in a Hanu sticker. It looks adorable. It reminds him of the smile you gave him the first day you met.

He still doesn’t turn around. “Darling, you have to realize you’ve been loving a dead man. I don’t know what it is about police officers and bartenders that make you hot’n bothered, but don’t run into another one.”

As he mixes his drink, there is only silence. He half-expects you to leave in a huff, but he knows better. You have never left in the long time you’ve known each other.

“... Then, if all my romantic gestures meant nothing to you,” you say, tenderly and still brimming with a love that annoys him, “Can I get one more kiss?”

“On the cheek.” He says coldly, putting down the drink on the counter. “And only because I’m basically dying.”

He closes his eyes as you turn him around. He hears a quiet hum, still sad and carrying grief, before he feels a soft brush of lips on his cheek. His hands cling to your waist, before they let go.

“Thank you.” you say, “And I’m sorry.”

He opens his eyes. Your smile is fragile and hopeless, but it carries a tinge of warmth, one that makes him close them again, because if he stares longer, something in his carefully-crafted heart may actually want to stay in this dingy apartment.

Will you go chase another man, when all is said and done? Will you marry him? Will he protect you and treasure you? Will he leave you, just as he did?

“Sure.” he answers, sliding the drink into your hands as he backs away.

He opens the apartment door, and doesn’t spare another glance. If he does, he may actually fear.

Before he leaves completely, he stops. “To you,” he murmurs, knowing you will hold onto his every word, “With this glass of ‘Farewell, My Lovely’.”

Leave. Don’t be delusional. Leave.

Hm. Perhaps he was the one deluding himself.

“To unfinished business.”

He shuts the door, and basks in the soft artificial moonlight.

He hears you wail.

He can only hope this is what Mikhail would have wanted.

#hsr gallagher x reader #gallagher x you #hsr gallagher #hsr x reader #hsr #hsr spoilers #honkai star rail #hsr 2.2

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jjmaysbaby · 2 months

Text

EL TANGO DE ROXANNE

CHAPTER ONE

Summary: Luke believes that somehow fate will bring you two together, but will other problems collide prevent it from coming true?

Warnings: small angst, unrequited love, pining, lovesick!luke, toxic relationship (not with luke), manipulative oc, tension, jealousy.

author's note: i know this not accurate to the pjo show or moulin rouge but be patient, it will all connect soon my darlings! this is my first actual fic! please lmk if there's any mistakes and your honest opinions on it.

one-sided love is one of the emotionally painful things a teenager can experience, but for demigods, it's nothing compared to the battles and quests they have to go through within their lives. though for luke castellan, he isn't currently facing any chimera or minotaur. the real monster for him is the one sat on the athena table, felix greenwood.

luke knew that annabeth was a daughter of athena, you could definitely tell by her hardworking strength but whenever he saw felix walk into cabin 6, it just didnt seem right. instead he would just vision a giant pit opening from the ground, fire and smoke erupting from it, and felix happily jumping in. it seems more fitting. luke watched as an aggravating smile came upon felix's face as his male siblings gloat over what has no importance to luke. however he notice felix's eyes occasionally observe one certain table in the distance, the ares table.

the children of ares are known to have feelings of anger, hatred, and bloodlust up to the point where they'd start physical fights. but you had always seemed guarded and tactile, whenever making a move or strategy during capture the flag, nobody would never know what you had done until somehow your already nearby the opponents flag. they never knew about the fiery rage boiling inside of you, bursting to get out.

however, everyone knew of your fondness towards felix, members of the camp adored and wished for a connection like yours. wherever you went, he was always within proximity. which for everyone else seemed charming, but luke truly doubted it.

luke felt cursed, not just by the gods, but for the predicament he's in. you have bewitched him in a way that no mystical creature ever can. he could even be dead in a grave, 6 feet below earth but he would still find a way to crawl back to you. luke admits that he is a romantic, believing that if your not with your true loved one for the rest of your life then what other purpose do you have than to lay down and accept the fate of death? he would destroy himself for you if it meant being in your loving gaze. but what he didn't know is that you were already crumbling due to the standards of your current love.

eating a cluster of cherries for breakfast, you look across at your siblings. you occasionally give input to the conversation, but words spoken by another repeat in your head.

"babe we didn't ask for you opinion, i love you but please just stay quiet for me."

you would always ignore his responses, at first they were subtle and not very often, but now it seems as if a censor inside of felix has now just unexpectedly been switched off. but after every argument or disagreement he would always come back, but only with gifts or manipulation, never a apology. somehow you would always be the blame or the reason. once, when you and him were sat along the sparkling lake together late at night, you asked him what it is that makes him love you.

"your hot and someone i can always talk about my problems too, i trust you."

if this is what love is supposed to feel like, you don't want it. people think love is something extraordinary, something that can last forever and withstand anything. but the love that you have with felix, it cracked and shattered ages ago, you just don't know where to run to.

you feel yourself getting disinterested with the conversation your siblings are having, and unconsciously gaze around. but something catches your eye, or rather someone. you feel as if your eyes are locked into places with his. while luke feels as if his heart has stopped beating, you feel as if you recognize him, brain muddled trying to pinpoint his face from your memory. maybe he's the new camp member everyone is talking about? you overheard that he was placed in the hermes cabin since he hadn't been claimed yet.

eyes still gazing into his, luke feels as if his face is on fire. chris clears his throat as he realizes that the conversation has suddenly became one sided, he then notices where luke's diverted attention has gone. a bright grin grows on chris's face as he aggressively nudges him in the arm.

"dude! oh my gods you have to go and speak to her! you've been waiting for this chance since like what- 3 years now!"

luke slowly nods while keeping eye contact with you, rising from his seat. he feels as if the gods have answered his prayer, everything moving in slow motion as his chance has finally landed in front of him. luke then hears the painful sound of a bell. he actually gets the temptation to grab you and pin you down, sat next to him so this opportunity doesn't dissappear. but we don't always get what we want. his mind can't actually tell if the crackling he hears is the sound of his heart aching even more as he notices felix striding over towards you or from the fire used for the offerings. surrendering, he makes his way over to the camps, chris giving a him sympathetic pat on the back.

you notice felix with egoistic look on his face making his way over to you, but with firmness, you walk straight past him. you can already tell he must have a dumbfounded look on his face based on the giggles and laughs you can hear from behind you, mostly coming from either his or your siblings, maybe even both. strolling by, you notice the same boy who seemed so fixated on you with his friend. looking behind you as you walk past, you check him out. he is quite attractive, somewhat of a muscular build, brown eyes and black hair.

little did you know that your glance back at him nearly gave him a heart attack. he had a plan to save you, whether it seemed wrong or right he wanted to help you realize that love can be beautiful if it's experienced with the right person.

you knew that from the way he was looking at you he definitely didn't want to be your friend, but he didn't want to be your enemy either.

TAGLIST:

@amoreva @yomochuu @ravenmedows @coconut-dreamz @vatcancameos221b-blog @purplerose291 @kal-islost @shebreathedherlast @k3ira13 @silkenthusiasts @lixzey @jennapancake @grovelingmen @harrypotterstan-1

if your tag is not here then for some reason it isn't not allowing me to tag you! feel free to either like or follow instead to catch up on updates!

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan #percy jackson #percy series #fanfic #angst #moulin rouge #x reader

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heeverseblog · 11 months

Text

body on me- jake sim au

pairing: pastor’s son!jake x church girl! reader

synopsis: everyone sees you and jake as the perfect, god-fearing couple of your town. but what they didn’t know was you’re not as innocent as you seem to be.

genre: smut, established relationship, pwp i guess????

warnings: semi-public sex, a bit of church themes (skip this fic if you’re uncomfortable), y/n’s mother is kind of a bad mother

listen to this to amp up the spice:

undefined

youtube

*read below*

“Food for the stomach and the stomach for food, and God will destroy them both.” The body, however, is not meant for sexual immorality but for the Lord, and the Lord for the body.

your mother reads the verse before closing the bible, “remember children, your body does not belong to anyone else. it only belongs to the lord our god. if you ever enter marriage, remember that you do not own your spouse’s body. it is the lord’s and his alone.”

everyone nods their heads. you, however, didn’t and your mother must have noticed this.

“right, y/n?”

bullshit.

you nod your head.

“that is all for today. remember to write your own reflection essays and we will be sharing them next week.”

everyone said their farewells. you stayed behind to help fix the chairs. the other kids from the different circle helped you too. including the pastor’s son, jake.

you lifted one chair to put it on top of the other. you were surprised when a hand held yours. that hand with prominent veins belonged to one person only.

“hi.” jake smiles innocently at you and you gave him the same sweet smile.

everyone was familiar of the status you both had. being the pastor’s son and the daughter of the head of the church group. every kid looked up to you two, being the sweet, god-fearing couple.

but what people didn’t know is that your innocent gazes are merely a façade of your true desires.

you kept staring at jake’s veiny hands. with his sleeves rolled up, you were getting more turned on.

judging by how you were looking at him, jake leans closer to your ear, “follow me.”

***

your back was pushed to the wall of the stockroom as jake attacked you with harsh kisses. you pull him closer to you as the intense feeling began to build up. jake placed his knee on your clothed core and you began grinding on it.

“oh god!”

“y/n, we shouldn’t use the lord’s name in vain.”

you fastened your movements which made jake groan before he kisses your neck then back to your lips. he bites your lower lip and enters his tongue once you opened your mouth.

“j-jake…a-aah!”

jake unbuttons your blouse then fondles your breasts. next, he unclasps your bra and lets it fall on the floor. you tug on jake’s shirt and he began unbuttoning it. both of you were bare and you slowly touched each other’s bodies with admiration.

“you’re so beautiful.” jake says before diving back into your mouth. he slid one of his fingers in your pussy and you moaned at the feeling. you can feel yourself releasing your juices as jake fastens his pace.

“jake. p-please.” you whine and jake just lets out this breathy laugh. he kept drawing circles in your clit and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes back due to the pleasure.

“anything for my angel.”

jake gets on his knees and doesn’t waste time in eating you out. you hiss at the feeling of him making

“o-ooh!”

jake immediately unbuckles his belt and when his member was on display. he removes your panties then inserts himself inside you. both of you groan at the feeling before you slowly grind your hips forward.

“f-fuck…”

“you sound hot when cursing.” you say out of breath and wrap your legs on jake’s waist.

jake turns you around and you felt more euphoric than ever. you knew jake liked it when you take him from behind and you love him for remembering that about you.

“s-so close…a-aah!” you held one of your breasts, hoping it’ll stimulate your orgasm but jake immediately grabs your hand and holds it instead.

jake presses his chest on your back and both of you were basically out of breath

“who do you belong to?” jake whispers in your ear.

“y-you. i-i’m only yours.”

jake continues pounding you from behind and reached for his head and brushed your fingers on his hair.

“are you mine, jakey?”

jake growls in your ear “i’ll always be yours,” and pounds harder behind you.

“o-ooh! shit!”

you turn your head and jake gave you a passionate kiss as he slow down his pace, both of you reaching your highs.

both of you took slow breaths, pulling each other closer to feel the intimacy and warmth of your bodies together.

“i love you.” you say in between breaths. you can feel jake smile at you from behind and he kisses the side of your head.

“i love you. you did so well for me.”

minutes later, both of you changed back into your clothes but the sexual mood hasn’t gone yet.

jake hugged you from behind and gave you wet kisses on the side of your neck.

“jake…”

you can feel his hands going inside the skirt of your dress and touch the waistband of your panties.

“jake, we literally just had sex.”

“but i’ll be away for a week. i’m going to miss you.”

you chuckle and turn around, “you can always call me,” then you lean into jake’s ear, “and we can talk all night long.”

you can see jake’s ears turn red, “and have my dad hear our noises in a church retreat? no, thank you.”

jake kisses you slow, his hand holding your back. you let out a soft moan when jake brushes his lips at your neck.

“only i get to hear those pretty noises.” jake says in between breaths.

“jake, really…we have to go.”

jake pouts and you couldn’t help but melt and give him another kiss. it would be a sin to lie that you weren’t needy over jake as he is with you.

“don’t know how i’ll survive the week without you.”

“should i just tell my dad i’m sick?”

“no, you have to go. and if you are sick, who’s going to take care of you?”

“hm…let me guess. you.”

both of you ended up doing a cute make out that soon turned into a lustful one.

later on, you ended up giving each other oral and one more round with you riding on jake as you rock your hips fast. you cover his mouth from his moans and constant pleases, smiling that finally it was you making him beg for you.

but sadly, both of you went back after your session or else your mother will go frantic with you missing.

“y/n, dear.” your mother calls you, being happy when she sees you with jake.

“we’ve been looking for you. where have you been?”

“y/n was helping me organize the documents, mrs. l/n.”

“oh is that so? well, you know my daughter. always one to help with people’s needs.”

you can see jake smirking, knowing he understood that statement in a different way.

“jake, son.”

jake’s mother calls him and tells him that they’ll be heading home.

“excuse me.”

jake passes by you and your mother and subtly brushes his finger on yours. you both look at each other before parting your separate ways.

#enhypen smut #jake sim smut #sim jaeyun smut #jake sim au #sim jaeyun au #enhypen scenarios #enhypen au #jake enhypen #enhypen jake #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #Youtube

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tiannasfanfic · 1 year

Text

True Sight

Eddie Munson x Reader (Angst)

| Eddie & Steddie Masterlist | AO3 Link |

Summary: While helping Eddie clean out his van, you find something that has the potential to completely destroy your relationship.

Rating: General Audiences

Author Note: Gender neutral Reader, they/them pronouns (if any), because anyone can wear panties. An AU where Henry Creel doesn't happen. Angst with a Twist. This story is 90-95% true, even the background of Eddie and Reader's relationship.

CW: Description of on and off relationship; mentions of abandonment issues; mentions of cheating; brief, non-graphic description of past sexual encounter (below waist penetration but not specified where, choking).

Word Count: 2,676

At some point in every long term relationship, the people in it find themselves purchasing their first vehicle together. No matter if it’s brand new right off the lot or an older model that a buddy is trying to get rid of, it’s a huge milestone for any couple.

That time had finally come for you and Eddie.

By now, duct tape and prayer were holding his van together. Your car may have been slightly newer and in better condition, it was at the point of breaking far more often than the two of you could really afford.

Regardless of why, it was an exciting time for both of you. Even getting a used vehicle, this was going to be the newest one either of you had ever owned. Not only that, but this was the first vehicle that Eddie was able to buy for himself, which was another huge milestone. Yes, the two of you were buying it together, but that was beside the point. You weren’t going to take that claim away from him since his van had been Wayne’s initially and was a roughly used hand me down.

Once a truck was found that you both fell in love with, you went ahead and traded your car in to help lower the down payment. That had been the plan with the van too until dealership took one look at it and laughed, so the two of you were on your own when it came to selling it.

Fortunately, it didn’t take long to find someone that was willing to give what Eddie was asking for it.

Unfortunately, this meant it had to be cleaned. And if there was one thing that had never happened to this van, it was a good deep cleaning.

Now, while Eddie had gotten better over the years when it came to tossing trash into the back, especially once he had stopped hanging out in there, he wasn’t always the best at remembering to throw things away later. There were still plenty of empty to-go cups, soda bottles, food wrappers, cans, cigarette packs, lighters and the like that had to be thrown away. It wasn’t anything gross, at least, except for a bottle of motor oil that had leaked right behind the driver’s seat.

Once all off the surface trash was out of the way, and the old blankets pulled out and examined before ultimately being thrown away, the van turned into a bit of a time capsule for the two of you. You both started finding things long thought lost, which brought on some reminiscing.

Ah, if this van could talk. She had seen a lot of things, both with and without you at Eddie’s side.

You both were in great moods as the day progressed, made even better by sharing one last joint then making out in the back for old time’s sake. But shortly after that while at the peak of your high, you found something at the bottom of the glove compartment.

When you first saw it, you weren’t really sure what it was. Once you picked it up, you could tell by the feel of it that it was some kind of flimsy fabric that had been wadded up into a ball. After carefully unwinding the fabric from the ball, you held it up with both hands to look at.It took a moment, but you eventually realized what it was that you were holding.

“Hey Eddie?” you said, slowly turning in the passenger seat towards the back of the van.

“Yeah?”

“Look what I found,” you said.

Eddie looked over to see what you were talking about.

It took him a moment as well, but when he realized what exactly it was that you were holding, all the color drained from his face.

It was a pair of mesh thong panties that had been torn open down the sides.

“Sweetheart, I promise those are from before we got back together,” Eddie said instantly, panic all over his face, his tone frantic.

From the look on Eddie’s face, you could see the life you two had built together flashing before his eyes.

The relationship you and Eddie had was a complicated one that was hard to describe.

Really, the easiest way to explain it is by saying it was very easy for the two of you to get together but very hard for you to stay together.

The two of you had been friends since high school. Back in those days, you were good friends but not best friends thanks to people you both dated during those years. This was due to the feelings you both had for each other that were obvious to everyone except for yourselves. The people you dated could see it just as easily as anyone else and didn’t like it.

Not too long after Eddie graduated, you both found yourselves single at the same time and you decided to make your feelings known. Eddie wasn’t about to pass up that opportunity, instantly reciprocated and the two of you had an amazing relationship that lasted for just a little over six months before he ended it suddenly without any explanation at the time.

Over the course of the next three years, the two of you found yourselves drawn back to each other repeatedly. In that time period, you made three more serious attempts to date, made a run at trying to just be friends again, and went through phases as each other’s regular booty call.

But no matter what kind of relationship you two tried to have, it would end shortly after it started and you’d go a long period without speaking.

Now, to be fair, it wasn’t always Eddie who ended things. You ended it your fair share of times, too. If something wasn’t working or making you happy, you had no problem with removing yourself from a situation and moving on, even when it came to him.

But, no matter who ended it, every time the two of you parted ways, it was always over something that didn’t really matter in the long run. It was never anything big, nothing serious, nothing that should permanently kill a relationship. And while you two were madly in love with each other, you were always at different places in life. It was the never right time.

Eventually, you found yourself in a relationship for nearly four years and lost all contact with Eddie for the duration of it. But one particularly rough night near the end of it, you found yourself having a pretty drastic realization. The only time you had ever been happy with someone, really truly happy and not just lying to yourself, was with Eddie.

Unbeknownst to you at the time, Eddie had the exact same realization roughly in the same time period after getting ditched by his date at a party where he knew no one and had no ride home since he rode with his date. He ended up having to call Steve to come rescue him.

A few weeks later, while you were working up the courage to reach out to Eddie, he made contact with you first.

That was a little over three years ago. You two had been together ever since.

But just because you two hadn’t broken up yet didn’t mean things had been easy. The biggest drawback to finally getting with someone you’ve been on and off with for years is the abandonment issues you both have left over from all those breakups before. After three years, and a lot of communication, you two had made a lot of progress, though it was still something you two were actively working on, tackling things together whenever they came up.

But one thing you had never worried about with Eddie was cheating. Eddie was the one person you always trusted implicitly. You actually had more of a sordid past than he did, having cheated on multiple partners while he said he had never cheated on even one. You believed him. Even the mere idea of him cheating never crossed your mind.

By this point, Eddie had completely discarded what he was working on at the back of the van to scramble up on his knees to where you were seated sideways in the passenger seat. He looked absolutely panicked, his eyes wide and filled with fear as he gazed into yours.

“Please, please believe me, Y/N,” Eddie said, cupping your face in his hands, his voice cracking. “I would never, ever do that to anyone, but especially not you.”

He looked so scared, so terrified, his tone heavy with a desperate plea.

And it was at that exact moment you started laughing.

It wasn’t just any kind of laugh, it was one of those laughing fits that soon had you nearly doubled over with tears streaming down your face.

Eddie leaned back a bit in surprise, his hands dropping down from your face to rest on your shoulders. A worried crease appeared between his eyebrows. He didn’t say anything until after your laughter had calmed down, just watched you with a helpless look on his face.

“Sweetheart?” he said, tentatively reached up with one hand to touch your cheek again lightly. “What-“

The question was cut off when you grabbed a handful of his shirt, pulled him closer and kissed him.

Eddie was so stunned he didn’t even kiss you back.

As you pulled away, you took one look at his expression, which was now a mixture of worry, panic, shock and now the fear that you’d finally lost it, and you could feel the laughing fit rising up again. You managed to suppress it down to a fit of giggles.

“They’re mine, you dumbass,” you said, giggling madly and grinning at him.

All of the expressions on Eddie’s face were instantly wiped away and replaced by one of deep confusion.

“Yours?”

You nodded.

Once you had realized what it was that you were holding, you instantly recognized the pair and remembered the night you lost them. You were just surprised he still had them after all this time. It happened many years ago during the second attempt you two made to date.

The two of you had gone to a friend’s birthday party together, making a date of it. As soon as you got in the van when he picked you up, the air had been sparking. It was the first time you had seen each other in a couple of months and the energy between you was electric, the sexual tension as strong as you’d ever felt it.

You both had known days ago when you made these plans how this night would end. If there was one thing you and Eddie had always, always been in perfect sync on, it was sex. Your energies matched perfectly, your bodies fit together as if they were made for each other. The intense passion mixed with rabid lust was always earth shaking. After your first night together, it was almost like you craved each other.

The two of you spent most of the party teasing each other. When the two of you finally left, Eddie couldn’t wait to get back to your place, much less into the back of his van. He pulled over to park on a secluded road and barely got it into park before he was dragging you over to straddle him in the driver’s seat. It was a bit tricky getting your pants off, but the two of you managed, only honking the horn a couple of times in the process. For whatever reason, you didn’t take your panties off at the same time, and they were soon ripped off you.

While you knew that probably wouldn’t jog his memory right away if you told him all that, you knew one particular thing about that night that definitely would.

“Remember when we discovered I like being choked?” you asked, grinning.

It only took a second before Eddie completely relaxed and his face broke into a wide grin.

“Holy shit,” he said, his eyes lighting up with the memory.

Shortly after Eddie ripped your panties off, you had been riding him when he suddenly grabbed you by the throat and leaned you back against the steering wheel to arch your chest out towards him. It was the first time anyone had ever grabbed you by the throat and you absolutely loved it. This became immediately obvious to Eddie when you cried out and clenched around him in a surprise orgasm. He wasn’t too far behind you after that.

“Now I remember,” he said, taking the pair of torn panties from you to look them over. “When I was leaving your place the next day, I saw them on the floorboard. I thought about going back in to give them to you but decided to keep them.”

To anyone else, that would’ve sounded weird, but for you, it made your heart skip a beat.

“Why?” you asked.

Eddie shrugged, a regretful look on his face as he looked up to meet your gaze.

“I was already freaking out again about how much I felt for you,” he said. “And I knew I was fixing to run away again because of it.” He shrugged again. “So, I wanted to make sure I had something of yours when that happened.”

Just a few days after that party, Eddie had suddenly stopped speaking to you again.

You smiled softly, and reached out to brush some stray curls out of his face.

“Good thing we don’t have to worry about that anymore, huh?” you said, then leaned forward to kiss him again, which he eagerly returned this time.

“Yup,” he agreed, then grinned. “We’re on a lease together and now a car loan. You’re kinda stuck with me.”

“And there’s no one else I’d rather be stuck with,” you said happily.

After another slow, deep kiss, Eddie looked back down at the torn panties in his hand and grinned.

You watched as he balled them back up and leaned to one side so he could shove them into his pocket.

“Seriously?” you said, then laughed and pointed in the direction of your shared apartment. “You do realize I have a whole drawer full of those, right?”

“Believe me, I know,” he said, smirking. “But you always throw the torn ones away before I get the chance to grab a pair.”

Now that one got an eyebrow raise out of you.

“Why in the hell would you want a torn pair?” you asked, a bit confused by the idea since you couldn’t wear them again.

“Because these I’ve actually torn off to fuck you,” he said. “That means they’re lucky.”

You started laughing.

“Wait a second,” you said, a grin on your face. “Because you got lucky means they are lucky?”

“Hell yeah it does,” he grinned, then started moving back towards the area of the van he was working on. “And since you got lucky too that night, I’d say that makes them lucky for both of us.”

It was a pretty sound thread of Eddie Logic that was hard to argue.

The two of you went back to cleaning and it was a few minutes before either of you spoke again.

“Hey Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“You do know that if you find any others that aren’t yours, they were from before us, right?”

You turned and found him looking at you from the back of the van, a worried expression on his face.

You had never once worried about Eddie cheating on you, you certainly weren’t about to start now.

“Don’t worry, baby, I know,” you said, smiling warmly at him before switching to a playful grin. “But I will make fun of you for it if I do.”

Eddie started laughing.

“That’s fine by me, sweetheart,” he said grinning at you.

In the end, that was the only pair of panties either of you found while cleaning out the van.

Eddie Munson Taglist: @eddie-swhore @bmunson86 @tayhar811

#eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson one shot

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iamjucie · 2 months

Text

Pet (18+) pt. 4 of 4

Ascended Astarion x f!reader

Chapter Four: Pink

I suggest reading the first three of the series before this, there is a bit of a plot in the porn. Just a little.

Summary: Master Astarion takes away your hurt and allows you to enjoy the sweet nothing of enthrallment.

WARNINGS: Smut, Extremely dubious consent, Mind control/manipulation, Orgasm control, Abusive relationship, Stockholm Syndrome, Physical Abuse

I do not say this lightly- Astarion is evil in this. This is an extremely toxic relationship. You have been warned!

(AO3 Link)

When he goes to lift your hips from him, you flinch and groan. So overwhelmed with sensitivity from both of your earth shattering orgasms.

He notices this and tuts, “Darling, I do expect you know I am not finished with you yet. Are you feeling…” he moves his hand down, pushing two fingers inside and allowing his wrist to graze your clit, drawing a scream from your lips. “...Sensitive?”

“Y-yes master I- Ah” he begins to massage inside you while you talk to him. He loves to see you struggle. “I-I don't think I can manage any more master… I-It- it hurts.”

“My poor child,” he coos while still massaging winces and hisses from your lips. “What are we meant to do about that, hm?”

You are struggling to think through the assault on your senses, rendering your brain struggling to focus on anything the pain he is bringing onto you “I-I don’t know…” you stutter pathetically, “C-can you make it stop hurting? Maybe I- You- M-Make it feel good.”

Astarion stops in his conquest to destroy your senses and places a hand on his cheek, feigning surprise. “Darling, are you asking me to compel you to enjoy it?”

“Y-yes. No, I-I don’t know. I only want to make you feel good, that is my purpose. Would that be bad? ” you inquired, genuinely confused.

“Absolutely not my dearest!” he chuckles as he reaches to caress your cheeks, as if you were a child embarrassed that she said something wrong. “I would be happy to oblige.”

You settle yourself into position ready for your master to take the wheel. Gods, you loved when he did this. You love having him in your mind, controlling your every move, your every reaction. When thinking is all you ever do, it’s blissful to not have a thought in your head.

The feeling of him entering your mind is akin to laying in a fresh set of silk sheets. Fog drapes over your thoughts and everything seems far away. Wrapping your brain in a warm, silky coating. You are no longer in your body, you are elsewhere. Here, everything is quiet.

Everything except him, and he is all that matters.

“Okay, Pet.” you hear his voice ring in your mind amidst the fog. You tilt your head inquisitively, awaiting your command. You can’t wait, you are so very eager to serve. “All I want you to do is feel good for me. Can you do that? Nod if you can do that.”

You nod.

The fog suddenly lifts slightly and you are back in your body with Astarion. Everything has a slight tint of pink to it, but that’s ok. Pink is a very good color. It makes you feel very good.

“Sigh, Look at what has become of you dear.” he reaches his hand to caress your cheek. “So utterly pathetic.”

You smile at him, the fog makes words jumble in your mind but you can hear your master’s voice. Master’s voice is so beautiful. You reach your hand to grip his on your face, nuzzling your face into it. It makes you feel very good.

He flips you onto your back, your giddiness is palpable. You giggle as he caresses you. Everything tickles a little, it feels good.

“Gods, you’re giggling like a gods-damned child.” he scoffs, “You’re a shell of the powerful woman you once were. Do you know why, love?”

You don’t quite understand what he’s saying to you but you get the impression he is expecting a response. You tilt your head with an inquisitive expression, replaying what he said to try to understand. All you can do is think about how good his voice makes you feel.

A more prominent voice comes into your mind. He has a command for you.

“Say, ‘Why, Master?’ for me, love” it echoes in your brain until it is fulfilled.

“Why, master?” you say with no thought or intention behind it. You look at him with the deepest form of affection known to man; enthrallment.

He grabs you and pulls your ear to his lips. “Because I took it from you.” he hisses, hand moving down to your clit to massage it. “I stole your strength, your talent, your mind from you.” he smiles at you.

He’s so pretty when he smiles.

“You put up quite the fight for a bit but in the end, I won. I always do.”

His fingering in your cunt gets more aggressive, he loves making you feel good. He feels so good inside you, and his voice is like music in your clouded mind.

“I beat you, fucked you, isolated you until you were exactly the way I want you.” He scoffs, “Proof that my power is strong enough to turn the strongest heroes into whores that only exist to be my cumslut. The hero of Baldur’s Gate, locked in a bedroom in my palace for me to fuck when I please.”

He starts to laugh, he must have told a joke. Master is so funny. You laugh along with him.

He lifts your hips onto his cock once more. You feel a rush of pleasure drawing a languid moan from your lips. This is what hurt before? No no- it must have been something else that was hurting. This- this is too profound to hurt.

You start to bounce on his cock, pulling him in and out fully the way your body knows he likes. It feels so good.

“You’re a fucking idiot do you know that?” he through pants as he ferociously fucks you. “Thinking you would ever be my ‘Dark Consort’, thinking I would let you in on the glory? Please.”

His voice sounds like a symphony.

“I knew from the moment I met you, you were just a desperate, stupid slut. Just needed some coaxing out by my hand.” he continues, “Say you’re nothing but a desperate slut and nothing without me inside you.”

Again, you have the feeling he is expecting a response from you but you don’t quite know what to say. You feel so good wrapped around his cock. Everything is so perfect.

He slaps you across the face and puts his hand around your neck.

The heat of the hit goes straight to your cunt. Waves of pleasure rush over your mind. It feels. So. Damn. Good. You’re on the cusp of the biggest orgasm of your undead life.

He enters your mind with a command, “I said, say you’re nothing but a desperate slut and nothing without me inside you.”

“Ah- I-I’m a desperate slut!” you try to use your voice between moans, “a-and I’m n-nothing without you i-inside me-e!”

You don’t even know what you’re saying, you’re so fucking close.

“Gods…“ Astarion is on the edge of coming inside you. “Fucking-“

He enters your mind. “Come when I say. I need to feel you clench around my cock as I have you spilling with me.”

“Three…”

Your body starts to prepare for the hit of chemicals your brain is about to receive.

“Two…”

You’re so fucking close, you’re under his thumb. He just needs to lift it ever so slightly and you’re riding this wave together.

“One. Come for me”

Your body obeys. Your scream could easily be mistaken for him killing you if this routine wasn’t so practiced. You convulse and clench around his member inside of you, milking his spend for all you can. You lay in a pleasurable bliss. A numbness like no other, with your master’s spend leaking from your cunt. Fucked beyond measure.

***

The pink fog of your vision lifts for the most part. The fog is still clouding your thoughts, it usually does until master is gone for a long while.

After a brief respite, Astarion begins to put his clothes back on. Gazing at his reflection to ensure there’s no imperfections in his appearance.

He turns on his heels to face you and clasps his hands together. “Well my love, I’m afraid I need to head out.” he explained with an exaggerated frown. “I have a very very important meeting out of town I need to attend.”

“Again? But you just came back from a trip…” you pout.

“Darling,” his eyes glow slightly in your gaze, “that was 2 weeks ago!”

You scrunch your face. Has it been that long? You concentrate on remembering the past two weeks.

He places a hand on your forehead to check for a fever. “Are you feeling unwell?”

Think… Oh! How could you have forgotten? You helped to decide the warpath of where to expand the empire you two have built. Yes, yes. How could you forget? Time does fly when you have fun.

You lay naked on the bed, watching as your master makes his way to leave your shared chambers to go on yet another important trip. You love that your master is such an important man, that is what he always wanted and what he deserves. But, selfishly, you hate that he always needs to go away. Oh well. You should be grateful you had such an eventful two weeks with him.

He knocks 3 times on the chamber door with no handles. Did that always have no door knob? You can’t bring yourself to recall, your mind and body spent beyond their limit.

Master’s assistant- whose name is lost on you- opens the door for him. As he is beginning to make his way out the door, you call out to him.

“Wait master!”

He turns to you. “Hm? Yes, pet?”

“Where is your business trip located? I forgot to ask, I like to know so I can imagine us going there together one day.”

He tilts his head in endearment and smiles at you.

“Neverwinter, my lovely. I must be going, the carriage is waiting. Now, you know the routine by now? Think of me while I’m gone.”

The images he wants you to imagine flow into your mind like a tidal wave. You hear him in your mind telling you not to touch yourself and that you can’t climax without permission.

“Of course, master. I will behave myself”

“Good girl. I will see you before you know it, my pet”

“I love you, master”

“Yes, I know. And I you.” he says as the door is shut

***

“Sire, just to ensure I’m not mistaken,” Astarion’s assistant asks shortly after the door to the vault is locked shut as she walks beside him down the hall, “your soonest business meeting is six months from now? In Waterdeep?”

“You would be correct. If you need me, I’ll be in my office.”

“Of course, sire.”

***

You are sitting in the lavish master chamber of the ornate palace you call home. Gazing into your reflection in the vanity mirror combing your unnaturally long black hair, getting lost in thought. It’s really all there is to do when Master Astarion is away on extended business trips like this.

It does help, too, that before he left he told you to think of him while he was gone. It was a command. So you obey. And you think.

The End

I hope you enjoyed my very first time writing fanfiction!! If you like my style and have any ideas or suggestions, let me know! This was so much fun to write and I can't wait to write more!

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cherryblossom-heart · 2 years

Text

Can I call you her name? (One-Shot S.R)

Steve Rogers x Reader

Masterlist

Summary:Scenes of how your relationship with Steve began, how he won your heart and how he broke it.

What good is love when it only hurts you? 12.6 k words

Content Warning: Angst, heartbreak, Friends with benefits? (Steve gives mixed signs), mature themes, +18 SMUT, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT (Oral f receiver, penetrative sex, slight mentions of oral sex m receiver, slight mentions of rough sex, Steve has a big dick.) Steve is also a dick, fluff but in the deceptive way. A/N:There will be a second part to this, more info on it here. Part 2 is already out.

Post dividers by @firefly-graphics and @cafekitsune

Steve Rogers isn’t like any other man you’ve met before.

The friendly, charismatic, innocent persona the public eye knows was your first impression of him. It would be hard to think of him otherwise when the media couldn’t stop talking about how brave and kind he is.

Maybe that's what brought you towards him in the first place. The good, nice, and kind Steve Rogers that wouldn’t hurt a fly.

Steve Rogers is good.

Just not in the way everyone thinks.

He is good at making you scream his name. He is good at wrecking you, destroying every sense of reality you have when you’re below him. He is good at making you crave him, ruining you, making sure no one else can ever compare to him. He is good at fucking you.

Not just good. Great, excellent, magnificent, or any other exaggerated positive adjective you could think of. He is all that and more.

Unfortunately, he is also good at breaking your heart.

Great, excellent, magnificent.

You still remember the first time you saw him. It was really embarrassing.

You were a new intern for an advertising company. It was your first week on the job, and you were already helping with big accounts, even if it just meant bringing coffee and delivering documents. You were more than grateful for it. Well, if anything, you had to be grateful to your coworker Jenna and her severe case of flu that had infected almost every publicist available on your floor. With everyone else out, you were thrown off of the bench. You were excited. This was your moment, and no one could take it away from you.

How naïve had you been.

One of the big accounts you ended up working on turned out to be none other than Tony Stark himself, and therefore, The Avengers were part of the deal as well. You can still remember how nervous you were when you first read the names on the paperwork you were supposed to deliver in an hour. Heart racing, sweaty palms and even a slight trembling of the hands were invading you.

Who could blame you? You were about to meet Earth's mightiest heroes.

Well, you weren’t exactly expecting to meet them. With you being the "errand girl" you thought you would be lucky if you even caught a glance of any of them, let alone actually get to talk to them. You might not get to meet them, but being in the same building as them was enough to make your stomach tight with nervousness.

With your foot tapping on the floor, papers on one hand and an iced-coffee tray on the other, you were waiting patiently for the elevator to reach the twenty-first floor. You had memorized the instructions your seniors had given you. Reach the office in the back, leave the documents and coffee, and get out of there. They didn’t need the newbie to freak out around celebrities, they didn’t trust you were able to control yourself even if you had assured them a thousand times you could handle it.

As the elevator doors opened, your heart rate significantly increased. You could’ve sworn you were about to have a heart attack. You silently cursed at the fact that you had to cross the whole floor to get to your destination while trying to remind yourself that you had to be professional, not only for the sake of your career but for the sake of your dignity.

Ironic. Maybe if you hadn't been so nervous, you would’ve noticed how quickly everyone was moving in the office. Perhaps you would’ve also noticed how someone was walking out of the same room you were trying to get into, the door swinging open so quickly you didn't have time to stop the inevitable clash.

The coffee that landed on the ground made the floor slippery. In an almost cartoonish way, you fought to maintain balance, failing miserably as you landed on your ass. You opened your eyes, not realizing you'd even closed them, and saw the folder you were holding mere seconds ago was now resting on top of the brown liquid. The stain was growing around the edges so rapidly that it felt almost taunting. Your hands launched forward, trying to save what's left of the important documentation you were supposed to deliver. Your effort, while admirable, was futile.

"God, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?" A deep voice said. Your head snapped so quickly it wouldn’t have surprised you if you pulled out a muscle. You recognized that voice.

Captain America, in all his glory, was standing in front of you. For some reason, you thought the first time you would meet Steve Rogers, he would look like the pictures you’ve seen in the press. A tactical suit, a shield in one hand, and a serious expression were the mental images you had of him. But, sitting on the floor in a puddle of coffee and ice, the man you saw was completely different. His white T-shirt and black sweatpants made a huge contrast with what you expected, also making you realize how ridiculous it was for you to be surprised by his outfit. He was a hero, but he was still just a guy.

A guy that looked incredibly hot just wearing a white T-shirt and black sweatpants.

You’ve seen this scenario played out a thousand times in movies and shows. The first meeting of a couple of strangers occurs when they are carrying something and, by pure chance, they crash together. Food, papers, and belongings fly across the room. Eyes connect, hearts beat, and a new romance is born.

What they failed to mention is how fucking embarrassing it was in real life.

"Yeah. I-I’m okay." Of course, you would stutter the first time talking to Captain America. God, everyone was right. You definitely couldn’t keep your cool.

"You sure? I didn’t even see you. I’m so sorry," he apologized again.

With his help, you managed to get up from the floor, trying to ignore how his touch made your heart flutter. You were glad he was holding you when your heels slipped on the floor again, but a strong hand grabbed you before you embarrassed yourself any further. That same hand traveled down to your waist, his grip guided you to a surface that was not a danger to your stability.

Once you were sure you wouldn't fall on your ass again at the slightest movement, you took out your heels. His hand still helped you, lingering there until you were done with your task. The warmth that came with his touch disappeared, a slight disappointment settled in you, and your cheeks heated up at your own reaction. Could someone cringe at themselves so hard it could make you combust?

You looked at him, trying to make a funny comeback, a sarcastic comment about the situation. Anything that would make you look less pathetic than you were, but you couldn’t. The bluest eyes you’ve ever seen were looking at you. No, they were burning you. You couldn’t move. You couldn't talk. Hell, you weren’t even sure you were breathing.

"What the hell happened here?"

Your boss's voice cut through the environment, grounding you back to reality. This was when you took a chance by looking around you. Everyone's eyes were on you. Your eyes began to sting, tears fighting to stream down your face. But you endured. You breathed in, you counted, and you apologized.

"I’m so sorry. I was trying to get into the room, but I didn’t see him, and I crashed into him." If your boss was upset before, now she was furious at you. A plethora of passive-aggressive insults were thrown in your direction, maybe even the words incompetent and useless too. You could also hear his deep voice trying to explain the situation, but you didn’t really care now. You thanked your ability to tune out situations like this, a skill you had learned to love once you entered the work field.

"She should’ve been paying more attention. And look at your clothes. I’ll make sure someone takes care of that." You were able to hear. Your cheeks warmed at the sight of his now coffee-stained clothes.

You were definitely getting fired.

"She’ll pay for the dry cleaning."

Great, fired and in debt already.

"Look, you don’t have to do that," he said, tired of arguing with the stubborn woman. "It was an accident. An accident I caused. It wasn’t her fault, so stop trying to pin it down on her." You didn’t miss the authoritative tone in his voice, making you wonder if this is what he sounded like in missions.

Or in bed.

"Let me show you somewhere you can get changed." he offered. The sweet tone of his voice had a direct impact on your heart. You gave him a shy nod, letting him guide you towards the elevator.

Unfortunately, the ride was long. So long that you thought time had somehow screwed you over and decided to slow down. You needed a moment alone, a moment to cry and scream into your fist, curse at your boss, at life, even at the gorgeous man that was standing next to you. And maybe get drunk. That usually helps.

The blue-eyed soldier cleared his throat, making you look at him. "Sorry about that whole thing with your boss."

You gave him a simple shrug. "She’s a dick."

The bluntness of your words makes him laugh. As if your crush on him couldn’t get any more evident, a big smile plastered on your face, butterflies invaded your stomach. The first time you made him laugh, and it had only taken some public embarrassment and ruining your professional career.

"I’m Steve Rogers, by the way." He extended a greeting hand to you.

Without any hesitation, you grabbed it. The urgency was slightly mortifying, but with all things considered, you didn’t really have much to lose. You told him your name, making sure this time you didn’t stutter.

"Nice meeting you," he said, a charming smile in his lips. "You think you’ll be in trouble?"

The innocence in his question was amusing. He clearly has never seen the end of a corporate job.

"She’ll probably fire me."

A week in and you would already have to go job hunting again. And now you had the biggest stain on your resume, you had basically ruined some of your clients’ belongings. Your coworkers were never going to let you live this one down.

While you wallowed in your own self-pity, Steve’s hand brought you back to reality. A comforting touch on your shoulder and a friendly expression met your eyes.

"Not if I have anything to do with it." He winked.

Steve Rogers is a good man. You thought to yourself.

You had severely underestimated how helpful Steve would be. You thought he was just going to help you keep your job and give you enough time to look for another one, as your boss seemed to be bothered by every little thing you did.

What you didn’t expect was for him to request to work directly with you.

When you asked for an explanation, your coworker only gave you an uninterested shrug.

"He told Madelyn he wouldn’t work with anyone else other than you."

Of course, your boss wouldn’t let you enjoy this bit of sunshine you had. She had planned to give you the hardest tasks to complete, adding more and more pressure to see you bend until you snapped. And you had to tend to every request she had, not because you wanted to, but because you had to show her you weren’t going to quit. The only silver lining to this unspoken war between you two was how often you got to see Steve.

Steve Rogers.

The man who had made himself a place in your heart in just a few months.

You could’ve gotten over it if he was just attractive, a pretty face to look at while you were working. Something superficial you lusted after. Yes, it was wrong to want to fuck one of your clients, but again, who could blame you? Worse things have happened in the world. Once the initial star-struck phase passed by, moving on would be as easy as breathing.

The problem was, he wasn’t just a pretty face.

Meeting after meeting, a handshake, a smile, a laugh that burst through his chest, crinkles in the corners of his eyes, small things that built a foundation in you one by one.

Work meetings turned into texting, that turned into phone calls, that turned into visiting each other in your free time.

You could talk to Steve for hours. There was no space for silence when you two were in the same room. You knew his favorite ice cream, how he ordered coffee, his favorite place around the corner that served the best pancakes he had ever tasted, and how he liked to run in the mornings just before the sun starts rising, so when he’s finishing his first lap, he could see it. A beautiful motivation to keep going, he said. At this point, you were sure you could fact check his Wikipedia page without having to ask him a single question.

However, one particular secret lingered in your mind.

When Steve revealed to you that he had an ex-girlfriend, you couldn’t help but be surprised. You were sure no one knew about it, or else you would’ve heard about it. It was a mystery to you how he had kept it hidden from the public for so long.

"So, you’re telling me you had a relationship for years and no one noticed?" You asked incredulously. You were leaned back on the couch of your apartment, your legs spaced across his lap, his hands ever so slightly brushing your skin.

"I’m good at keeping secrets," he says with a smirk.

He took a sip of the beer you had so kindly offered him. You had bought them specially for him. You didn’t even like beer.

"It appears so," you said, with a chuckle. "So, why you guys break up?"

He froze for a moment, and you saw it. A range of emotions ran through his eyes. Sadness, heartbreak, longing, love.

He was still in love with her.

It should’ve been the first sign to stay away from him.

"She didn’t love me anymore."

To your surprise, you weren’t the one that made the first move.

It was a Saturday evening. The sunset was getting closer by the minute. A ding diverted your attention from the rom-com you were watching. It was him. Your heart almost beat out of your chest when you saw the notification light up your screen.

Hey, I’m finally back.

A wide grin plastered on your face, your teeth grabbing your lower lip. You were glad you live alone, or else they could’ve seen how this man, with just four words, had made you giggle like a schoolgirl.

You waited a couple of minutes before you texted back.

Hey there stranger. I’ve missed you so much. How was the trip?

His lack of response didn’t surprise you, he was probably tired from his trip to who knows where. A little over a month had passed since you last talked, with him telling you he wouldn’t be available for a while as he had to go on a mission. To say you were unhappy with the news would be an understatement. But you understand his line of work. His world won’t stop spinning just because a silly publicist has an unrequited crush on him.

Days turned to weeks, and without notice, it had been a month since he was gone. He left a void in your life that you were filling with work, friends, and copious amounts of food and alcohol. Not the best way to distract yourself, but effective, nonetheless.

Standing up to get another can of soda you heard your phone ringing. His ringtone.

You weren’t expecting a phone call so soon after his return, not after him texting you just twenty minutes ago. With a quick pace you crossed your kitchen, answering your phone at the third ring.

"Hello?"

"Hi." His voice was shaky, hesitant. "I, um. Are you free right now?"

Your breath hitches in your throat. You weren’t even dressed. What is this?

"Yeah. Why?"

"You wanna go out?"

What the fuck?

“Right now?” you managed to spit the words.

“Yeah”

"Didn’t you just got back today?" you asked, walking towards your closet to look for something decent to wear. Again, a big relief that you lived by yourself. Dealing with someone else looking at you making a fool of yourself would be exhausting.

"Yeah, I don’t know. I just want to hang out with you."

The first place he took you was an old dingy dinner in Brooklyn, close to where he had grown up in the 40’s. The food was mediocre, the service could be better, but the company was the best. After both of you had eaten your soggy fries and your melted milkshakes, he took you on a walk. The longest one in your life. He gave you a whole tour, comparing what used to be and what there is now, the alleys he had gotten beaten up, where he had gotten his first kiss. He shared his past with you, and you absorbed every little word he said, every piece of himself he gave you.

Following that, you walked aimlessly through the streets of New York until you reached a familiar nightclub you were working for. With a mischievous grin, you grabbed Steve's hand, pulling him towards the entrance. When he asked for an explanation, you told him your intentions, to which he started to fight back on your pull.

"Come on, Steve, when was the last time you danced?" You said with a pout, as if that could help your case.

His eyes fell for a second, a painful memory invaded him.

"A long time ago," he whispered.

He was thinking about her.

After a few more minutes of begging and pouting, he finally gave in. Your little jump of happiness made him chuckle, and your grip on his hand got tighter. When you got through to the bouncer, you told him you worked for your PR firm, and after a few minutes on the phone, he let you in with a friendly smile.

The place was packed, the music was deafening, people dancing surrounded you. It smelled like alcohol, sweat, and trouble.

Steves' hands wrapped you, the shots you had ordered a few moments ago were invading your system. Your hips swayed side to side as his hands traveled down your body, gripping you tightly. His chest was pressed against your back, his breath hit the back of your neck. No one else around you mattered. In this crowded, tight place, it was just you and him.

It was a perfect first date.

Except it wasn’t a date at all.

And that made you so angry.

You had noticed how his gaze lingered on you longer than it should, the way his hugs were tighter and he seemed to not want to let you go, how his hand had brushed yours when walking through the dark streets of Brooklyn, the way his hands would travel down your body.

At the same time, you had also noticed how he would step away from you when any sort of romantic ambiance would fall over you, the way his eyes would drift away from yours when you looked him in the eyes, the way he changed subjects when you asked him if he had any interest in going on dates.

Yet, no matter how many mixed signals he gave you, you would never make the first move. Not only would it be awkward at work (which should have been enough to discourage you), but the thought of losing him because you misinterpreted him was too painful to bear.

Six months was enough for him to become a vital part of your life, and if it were ripped from you in such an unexpected way, you wouldn’t know how you could move on. How could you forget what it felt like to have Steve Rogers in your kitchen, cooking whatever recipe he had found online, so you could have something to eat while watching a movie? How could you forget the way his eyes would shut, his head would roll back, and a hand would make its way to his chest when he found something hilarious?

You could do just being "friends" with the guy. "Friends" was good. "Friends" was bearable.

Except friends didn’t spin you around, their hands lowering down your lower back. Or raise your face, their thumb brushing over your lips. Or gave you a look that could make you combust right there on the spot, making you forget how to breathe.

Friends definitely didn’t come close to your face, their lips brushing yours and your hands grabbing on to their shirt.

Friends didn’t kiss.

You were in the club one minute, and the next you were in your house. On your bed. With a shirtless Steve on top of you.

Your clothes disappeared. Your lace panties and your flimsy bralette were the only things covering your body. His hands were touching you, all of you. Exploring every inch of your skin while his lips were devouring yours. He knew what he was doing. He was making you crave him. Beg him to fuck you.

His hand finally reached your underwear, a finger trailing up and down your covered slit. A very large wet spot, visible even through the lace, made Steve smirk smugly.

"So wet for me," he whispered in your ear. You tried to reply, but his fingers started trailing circles around your little bundle of nerves. All you could muster was a loud moan. "You like that, baby?"

Your lack of an answer made him accelerate his pace. Your head jerked back at the overwhelming sensation. He’s not even really touching you; the sensation of the dripping lace added to your pleasure, but you could tell he could make you cum just like this.

"Answer me. Use your words, sweetheart." His voice was deep, raspy, and commanding. You were right, he did use the same tone.

"Y-yes" you mustered. His lips clashed against yours, his tongue finding its way to yours. Even in your pleasure haziness, you could see how much he liked how difficult it was for you to answer. He enjoyed how good he was making you feel.

Lowering his kisses again, he trailed down to your breasts, taking his time to lightly bite one of your nipples. The sensation should have hurt, but instead it brought added pleasure, making you arch your back.

He brought himself fully down, his head between your legs. You felt his hands helping you get rid of your underwear, the piece of fabric completely soaked. Looking down, you felt like you could faint. The sight of him between your legs could only be described as beautiful.

Steve’s face got close to your soaked pussy, inhaling your scent. He looked at you. The burning gaze he had always given you was different, more intense, darker, lustful. Your most inappropriate fantasies were turning into reality. All those nights you had spent with your fingers between your legs, imagining it was him was no longer a sensuous fiction you created in your mind. He was here, right now, about to eat you out.

"God, you’re perfect," he whispered.

His tongue drew a line coursing between your folds. He was such a tease. Lick after lick, your impatience was growing; you needed him to stop playing games. Your hands traveled to his hair, giving him a slight pull so he would look at you.

"Please," you begged him.

His eyes darkened.

"Please what, beautiful?" His voice was low and seductive. The lust behind it was making your core clench on nothing. "You want me to taste you?" You desperately nodded. You needed him to give you more. "Say it."

His fingers spread your lips apart. The tips of his fingers teased your entrance as he kept pushing you for an answer. His thumb found your clit again, slowly drawing light circles against it. Your hips bucked against his hand, begging for him to add more pressure, but his other hand steadied you in your place.

"Say it, baby," he whispered.

"Please Steve, taste me," you moaned.

You knew Steve Rogers was a great fighter, great at strategizing, and a sharpshooter. He was also a great artist, according to the documentary you once watched on his time in WW2. He was smart, brave, and strong, both mentally and physically.

Now, you also know how great he was between your legs.

The sensation of him sucking on your bundle of nerves was sending you over the edge. Your slick trailed down your lips all the way down to your puckered hole. His fingers teased your entrance, slowly covering themselves in your juices until he finally slid one of them inside.

His fingers were big, bigger than yours, and they reached places yours had never been able to. The way he moved them inside you, with such ease, they found that spongy part that tightened your stomach. It was breathtaking. He added a second finger, and you could’ve sworn you were about to come undone. The pace he set was relentless. His fingers pumped in and out of you while his tongue toyed with your nub, making you feel better than you’ve ever felt with anyone else.

But you needed him, all of him.

"Fuck me," you begged. Your voice was hoarse as, apparently, the only thing you could do was whimper and moan every time his lips would close around your clit.

He lifted his face away from you, but his fingers kept moving inside. Half his face shone under the dim lighting of your bedroom. A mixture of his own saliva and your arousal was prominent on his pink, puffy lips. That and the cocky grin on his face made your walls clench.

"You wanna cum on my cock, don’t you?"

Fuck.

You never thought you would have America's favorite hero saying those things to you. Whiplash was caused by someone whose persona was built around this moralistic, innocent, almost puritan idea.

His digits added pressure to your core. The knot in your stomach tightened.

"Please" was the only word you were able to say.

His fingers stopped filling you; the emptiness made you whine. The cloudiness your brain was in didn’t let you register when he had taken his pants off. He placed himself on top of you. Both his hands rested on top of the bed on the sides of your face. The feeling of his cock resting on top of your stomach made you look down.

He was big.

No, big wasn’t enough to describe him.

He was huge. Not only in length but in thickness.

How the fuck was that supposed to fit inside you?

The red bulbous tip almost reached your bellybutton; a droplet of pre-cum rested on top of it. Without a second thought, you reached down to touch it. Steves' breath hitched as your palm closed on his member, and his hands clenched into fists. Your thumb smeared the white pearl, smudging it in circles on his tip and making his cock twitch in your hand.

"Fuck," he groaned.

Your hand dragged up and down, pumping him as you grew wetter. Your fingers found a thick, prominent vein that trailed down over his length. It was the softest of touches, yet it was driving him crazy.

After a few more pumps, he couldn’t take it anymore. He spread your legs as wide as he was able to, his hand leading his cock between your slits. You jumped a little when it first touched you, but his hands held your hips still. With swift movements, his head rubbed on your knob. The sensation of it made your eyes roll. Electricity ran through your body, each one of your nerve endings aware of what his cock was doing.

Without any warnings, you felt a slap, jolts of pleasure emerging from that nub he had been toying with since the start. You looked down to see him holding himself, ready to slap you with his tip again. This time, both of your eyes were locked together, and neither of you dared break eye contact.

His face came close to you. His hand grabbed the back of your head as he kissed you. Hungrily, desperately, seductive.

You felt his head nudging at your entrance, your eyes closing with anticipation and a little worry about his length. You weren’t a virgin, of course, but you also never had anyone as big as he. as thick as him. You had only seen dicks as big on porn sites, and even then they looked intimidating. What if it didn’t fit? Would it hurt? What if he ruined—

A soft hand brought you back from spiraling, his thumb caressing your cheek.

"Open your eyes, sweetheart."

His voice was soft and tender. A warmth spread through your chest the more you felt his touch on your face. You opened your eyes to find him staring back at you, an adoring expression filling his. Your heart jumped to your throat, no longer in lust but in affection. This encounter was lustful, seductive, and raw, but the moment you looked into his eyes, it changed everything. It was vulnerable, caring, even loving.

Blue eyes looked at you, asking for permission to keep going. You gave him the smallest of nods as you leaned into his touch. He waited a few seconds before you finally felt him moving inside.

Oh, you definitely felt him.

The stretch burned. You could feel how you were struggling to fit him in. He was thoughtful, though, taking it slow and calm so you could get used to him. Yes, the intrusion hurt a bit, but you desired it with all your soul. His eyes kept you grounded, guiding you through everything you were feeling.

"It’s okay, sweetheart. Breath," he whispered.

After a few seconds, the pain was slowly replaced with pleasure, your legs instinctively spread wider for him. You felt him everywhere. The deeper he went, the heavier your breathing got. Your hands traveled to his hair, pulling it slightly in your fists when it became too much.

Finally, he bottomed out. You’ve never felt fuller in your life.

That night, he fucked you like there was no tomorrow.

And maybe, just maybe, that night he also opened his heart to you for the first time.

Things were great for a while.

Steve came to your apartment almost every day, most of which ended up with you under him, begging him to not stop. You had memorized every freckle, every scar, every imperfection on his skin.

You have also memorized the things he loves during sex. The way he groans when you’re on your knees in front at him, jerking him off while your mouth plays with his balls. Or the way his eyebrows furrow when you’re on top of him, grinding your hips on top of him, his hands leaving bruises on your hips caused by his strong, almost unmovable, grip. You had even noticed the way his breath hitched when you spread your ass cheeks for him, the view almost enough to make him cum.

So yeah, things were great.

Well, maybe not great, but just good.

After that first night, you woke up to find he was already long gone. The side of your bed he had occupied had lost its warmth a long time ago. The only traces of him being around were the smell of sex and his cologne filling the room.��

And the soreness in between your legs.

Maybe he had something important to do.

He would explain later, feeling sorry for leaving without letting you know. He was your friend, after all.

Except he didn’t.

He came by the next day, knocking on your door desperately. You opened the door, not before making sure you looked decent enough, pulling down your sweatshirt and fixing your hair. You saw his eyes, burning again with the same desire.

He kissed you, hungry for more.

You should’ve stopped him, told him you wanted to talk about what happened yesterday, asked for an explanation as to why he left so quickly, and made him tell you what you guys are now. Friends? More than friends? Were you together now?

But you didn’t.

You let him fuck you until you couldn’t say your own name. Kiss you until you can't breath. Let him go when he thinks you’re deep asleep.

You let him have everything he wanted and more.

You weren't stupid. You know what this unspoken arrangement was. You weren’t together.

You were just fucking.

There were implied rules in your relationship with Steve. Rule number one: you didn’t show any affection in public; rule number two: you didn’t go out in any sort of romantic date; rule number three: Steve never stayed the night.

He broke the first rule three months after that night.

Winter was closing in on New York, the air was getting colder and the streets began to be covered in a white veil of snow. Steve and you were walking side by side on the sidewalk after your shift was over. On days like these, when you got out of the office at ten in the night, Steve would pick you up and walk home with you. He said it would be safer for you.

Your hand brushed against his by accident, making yours recoil. Foolishly, you tried to grab his hand in a similar situation days after your date/not date. You still remember the bitter taste in your mouth when he gently dropped your hand a couple of seconds later.

That was the first hit your heart took.

Bringing your hands together, you cursed at the fact you that you forgot to bring your gloves with you, like you hadn’t lived in this city for half your life and didn’t know how close to freezing your fingers could get. You tried to blow some hot air into them, with the result just being a temporary fix.

Steve looked at you from the corner of his eye, a hesitant expression showing in his gaze before reaching out to your hand. You controlled your surprised expression the best you could, but you were sure he noticed. His fingers were warm, welcoming, and comforting. Not only were your fingers heating up, but your heart was pounding strongly in your chest, ready to burst through it at any given second.

He brought your hand to his lips, a small kiss touching the skin on your fingers. You felt the heat in your cheeks flush you completely, causing an amused look in his eyes.

"Your hands are cold."

To your surprise, he didn't let go of it. He interlaced your fingers.

A couple of weeks after that, Steve broke the second rule.

Celebrating a new campaign you finished wrapping up, he took you out to eat. From the luxurious decor of the place and the discreet atmosphere, you assume it was suggested by Tony. Your suspicions were confirmed when the menu that was placed in front of you didn’t show any prices.

You had jokingly told Steve you would probably have to sell both your kidneys to pay for a single plate here, and his only response was a soft hand caressing your cheek and his lips close to your ear.

"Don’t worry about it, order anything you want."

You had to keep reminding yourself that this wasn’t a date. But the romantic environment, the way his fingers would caress your thighs, his hand pushing you closer to him in the small, private booth you had been placed in, and the little kisses he would deposit on your neck, made it really hard to keep focus.

You were waiting for dessert, but his hands were busy exploring your body. To any other onlooker, you would look like an affectionate couple. The way his eyes would ever so slightly sparkle when he looked at you, his protective demeanor once you had walked inside and the fondness of his touch.

But you weren't a couple. This wasn’t even a date.

Except his hands made you look at him, with soft, pillowy lips meeting yours. They parted slightly, allowing his tongue to explore your mouth. Your hand traveled to his face, your thumb brushing against his growing beard. This kiss was different from the others. It was still passionate as always, but it had care, tenderness, and an intimacy there wasn’t before.

He broke the kiss apart.

There was a shine in his eyes you hadn’t seen before.

"This is the best date I’ve had in a while."

The last rule was broken three weeks after your first "official" date.

Steve had been away for almost a week. He couldn’t tell you much, but all you know is that he had gone to a foreign country and something about a terrorist organization. Worry had been your companion these past few days, as it had always been whenever Steve left.

Looking at the paperwork splattered on your coffee table you groaned, deciding to stop for the night. There was no point in melting your brain with numbers and statements when you had to use it tomorrow morning too.

You stood up, your arms and back stretching after sitting in the same position for a few hours now, with a few cracks sounding through your body. Ready to finally go to bed, a knock interrupted you. It was shy, almost hesitant. You looked at the clock and it said 11:30 PM, making your brow furrow with confusion. He wasn’t supposed to come today, at least not when he just arrived from a mission.

When you opened your door, you didn’t expect his arms to surround you. You also didn’t expect him to be still wearing his tactical gear. His face was buried in your neck. His arms grabbed you as if you were the most precious thing in the world to him. He’s not okay.

"What’s wrong, Stevie?" you asked softly.

You tried to look at his face, but his arms locked you in place. His breathing is heavy, almost a panting like sound coming from him. Your hands tremble once you’re able to touch his face. You’ve never seen him like this before.

His face was covered in ash, tiny scratches sitting on top of his left eyebrow. He smelled like himself but with an added layer of sweat and smoke. There were signs he might’ve had a purple eye, but the color was fading away.

You were finally able to tear apart from him and found that instead of those blue, vibrant eyes that would greet you every night, they were replaced by something broken inside him.

It clicked in your head. He needed you. He needed your comfort.

So, you gave it to him without a second thought.

His arms encircled you once more, but this time he locked you in your own bed. After a more than needed shower, you guided him to your mattress, the covers pulled over your heads, shielding you from the outside world.

"There were children," he said, breaking the silence with a trembling deep tone you'd never heard before. You felt how hard his heart was beating, the tiredness that clouded his eyes. "I couldn't—there wasn't any—I tried."

You pulled him to you again.

"It’s not your fault, Steve," you whispered in his ear. Tears were stinging your eyes, but you breathed in. This wasn’t about you. "It's not your fault."

He held you tighter.

And you both fell asleep.

The first time Steve Rogers chipped your heart, you didn’t see it coming.

One of the perks of knowing Steve and being close to him was being invited to those wild and amazing parties Tony Stark was known for. Loud music, expensive alcohol and a big crowd greeted your sight once the penthouse elevator doors opened.

Tony really did live up to his reputation.

Bucky’s laugh next to you filled your ears. His head was thrown back, his hand grabbed his stomach, and there was a noticeable red tinge on his cheeks. This was the first time he had tried that Asgardian alcohol that was strong enough to get him drunk. To say Bucky had been excited would’ve been an understatement.

He and Sam were under your contract too, both of them being a logical addition as to how they wanted to market them. The golden trio The people could trust. So, when Steve went to see some of his coworkers, you stayed behind with them.

They were nice company, and working with them for almost six months had also made you develop a friendship with them. Breakfasts and hangouts were part of your dynamic now. The constant bickering but complicity between the men was an amusing dynamic. You felt comfortable enough around them to joke and get drunk.

"Okay, I’m taking this away from you," you laughed.

Taking a drink away from a super soldier was harder than you thought. The obvious height difference was an advantage to him as he lifted his hand.

He smirked. "You've got to reach it to take it away from me, shortcake."

You tried jumping but it was useless, the results of which only made you look ridiculous. With a huff, you looked around you, examining your surroundings. When you couldn't find anything, you devised a plan to bring Bucky down to your level. A devilish smile formed on your lips. The alcohol in your system made you more carefree than usual.

Your fingers poked Bucky’s sides, his metal arm instantly bending to protect the area. A playful fight ensued between both of you. Bucky's arm stretched to its limit while you tickled his sides. You poked both sides of his ribs mercilessly until you saw his glass close to your reach. Your little jumps finally lifted you enough to graze it.

Your victory was short-lived, as Steve's hand slid to the small of your back while removing the contentious cup. Bucky and you whined in disagreement, your lips forming a pout.

"What are you guys doing?" he questioned with a laugh, his hand now settled on your waist. A waiter walked by, and he asked him to take the cup back to the kitchen, and also to make sure to put away the rest of the Asgardian mead.

"She was being a party pooper," Bucky grumbled. You gasped in indignation and your hand dramatically went to your chest.

"I was not."

"Yeah, you were," Sam joins in the conversation.

Your eyebrows furrow in annoyance. "I’m not a party pooper. I was just making sure he doesn’t get too fucked up because if he does something stupid, who do you think has to fix it? Besides, you weren’t even here before."

Sam and Bucky looked at each other for a second before turning their eyes at you.

"Party pooper"

"Fuck you, guys!" you cursed at them, your response making them laugh. You rolled your eyes, lifting your middle finger. You opened your mouth to say something else, but Steve’s hand pushed you towards his chest.

"Don’t listen to them. I think you’re really fun to be around, "he whispered close to your ear. Your face heated up, making you turn around to bury it in Steve's chest.

This man was going to kill you.

He embraced you and a kiss was deposited on top of your head. You turned around after a few seconds to see Bucky and Sam looking at you with a knowing smirk on their faces.

"So," Bucky started, clearing his throat. "Are you guys finally together?"

You turned to Steve, not knowing how to answer. Things hadn't been properly discussed, but the change between how things started and how they were going was abysmal. This past eleven months were not for nothing, you had grown attached to him. Every kiss, every hug, every promise he had made, every sleepless night of comforting, every late-night shift he had picked you up from. The lines he had previously drawn were no longer there, and instead, they were replaced with a bond formed on tenderness, care, and, if you dared to say, love.

You loved him.

Deeply. Passionately. Wholeheartedly.

If there was ever anyone you could love, it would definitely be Steve Rogers.

You would do anything for him.

"No, were just friends."

Unrequited love was painful.

Sometimes it felt like a pressing knife slowly cutting through your chest.

Other days, it would feel like you were drowning in a sea, the struggle to stay afloat consuming every ounce of energy you had.

But most days, it felt like a weight on your chest. The words that wouldn’t leave your mouth were stuck in your heart. Everything about him made you love him, and you couldn’t stop it.

Maybe that’s why you decided to talk to him about your relationship; to get rid of the pain. Or maybe a part of you still held hope. I hope for a future with him.

Once you had told him you wanted more, Steve’s face had been in shock, like a deer caught in the headlights. His silence had lasted long enough for you to doubt if he would ever answer you or if, somehow, he had passed out with open eyes.

But you still kept hoping, right until the end.

"I can’t give you more than this right now."

"If you want to, we can stop this. But if you want to keep going, this is all we can be for the moment. "

"I’m not ready for a relationship, not after her. I need time. "

His words ran through your mind over and over again. A cycle of heartbreak and lost hope draws you in. This was it. He couldn’t do it. He didn’t want to do it. He said he needed time, but all he was doing was telling you what you wanted to hear. He was keeping you at arm's length. He was giving you an out, a safeguard for your heart, or what was left of it.

All those nights you had spent embraced in each other's arms, with the moonlight kissing your skin, had been a construct of your imagination. The significance behind them was your own heart playing you.He didn’t love you, not in the way you had hoped he did.

The same type of love he was aware of, even if you hadn’t explicitly told him the full extent of your feelings. You could see it, even if he was so adamant that this type of bond couldn’t be possible between you two for a while, because no matter how much he would deny it, he still wanted it.

He didn’t want to love you, but he still wanted to be loved.

And as you stared into his eyes, you realized that after almost two and a half years since she left, he might still love her.

So you breathe in, close your eyes and endure. You let him keep taking it.

A jump scare on the screen caught you by surprise, your arms tightening around the pillow you were holding. You turned to your side, wanting to watch Bucky's reaction, but all you saw is his pensive expression. His mind seemed to be elsewhere. The frown on his face and the anxious up and down of his right leg made you think he was stressed about something. Probably something work related.

You turned back to the movie, the scary plot no longer able to hold your attention. Bucky had been acting weird ever since he got to your apartment, this night being only the two of you as Sam and Steve were away on a mission.

"She’s coming back." Bucky's voice broke the silence.

You turned back to him, "What?"

"Steve’s ex"

Your heart stopped.

"He told us a couple of days before him and Sam left. She texted him to let him know she was returning to S.H.I.E.L.D. It’s not going to happen for a while, but I don’t know when she’s coming back."

He visited you the day before he left, and he didn’t tell you. He didn’t want to tell you.

Bucky sighed. "I know that you are..." he hesitated for a second, flashbacks of the ‘just friends’ night coming back to you. "-whatever the hell you guys are. I also know that you have feelings for him. I just thought you should know. "

You didn’t answer. Your eyes glued themselves to the TV, but you couldn't hear anything. Your eyes prickled with tears, and a pain in your chest bloomed so deeply in you that it felt like it would break you apart.

He misses her. He didn’t tell you about it. He doesn’t love you. He still loves her.

You close your eyes, mentally repeating the mantra that has helped you for so long to not crumble down.

Close your eyes, breath in and endure.

Breath in and endure.

Endure

Bucky’s movements brought you back. His shoulder was touching yours, a simple act you can read through. You laid your head on his shoulder. As soon as your skin made contact with his shoulder, you broke. The tears you so strongly fought to chase away were hitting you all at once.

As he wrapped his arm around you and squeezed you tightly, you thought it was okay to cry, just this once.

The beginning of the end followed that day closely behind.

You weren’t sure when things started to change. After he came back, he didn’t mention anything to you about his ex coming back or how this might change what was going on between you two. Bucky wasn’t sure when she would get back to the city, so you decided that worrying about something you didn’t know when was going to happen would be counterproductive. You left the thought of her return on the back burner, just for a little while.

Steves' affection was the same. He laughed the same. He held you the same. He kissed you the same.

Until he didn’t. And you didn’t notice it until it was too late.

One day, he forgot to pick you up. You called, you texted but there was no answer. You waited almost an hour until you decided to walk back on your own. For the first time, you noticed how scary it was to walk so late at night. The next day, he apologized with a bouquet of flowers from your favorite shop.

Another day he forgot you had made plans to watch a movie. A few hours later, the beer you had opened for him slid down the drain. He called you the next day, saying work had kept him busy, but he would make it up to you.

On a different day, he forgot you were going out to eat. The waitress had given you a sympathy look while you ordered the check. The next day, he texted you, saying he was sorry. You didn’t see him for the rest of the week.

Things were different, even when you had sex.

Before, he used to love looking deeply into your eyes. Kissing your lips as he kept thrusting into you. To see your expression as he slid inside for the first time that night. He loved seeing your eyes rolling back when he hit that special spot that made you tremble. He made you look at him when you were about to come undone. He loved looking at you.

Now he turned you around, your ass up in the air and your head pinned down to the mattress. His pace was relentless, animalistic almost. There wasn’t any care or affection anymore. He used you, physically this time. It still felt good. No one could ever say Steve Rogers was a selfish lover. One time you turned around your head, in hopes to catch those blue eyes you missed so much.

His eyes were closed.

You walked through the office, making your way to the conference room. A little smile grew on your face as you compared how different things were two years ago. The first time you had walked this route, you were just a naïve intern, with so many hopes and dreams in your head that had ended up with you covered in coffee all over you.

You reached the door and made sure no one was coming out as you walked in. You saw Steve sitting alone, which surprised you. This meeting was supposed to be between you and the three of them. You were especially hoping to talk to Bucky about his upcoming solo tour as a way to mend his public image, which started a week from now. And as his representative in all public matters, you had to agree with him who would go on the trip as his companion. This conversation would probably take a long time with Bucky not really liking any of your other coworkers, and it would take even longer now with this delay.

You sat in front of him, leaving your purse and your folder on the large table between you two.

"Where are Sam and Bucky?" you inquired.

For some unknown reason, you felt nervous, your heartbeat increasing the longer you were alone with him.

"I told them to give us a couple of minutes alone."

Oh.

He was finally going to do it. He was about to break your heart right before a work meeting with him and your friends. He was leaving you to be with her.

"Okay. What’s up?" You managed to answer. Your trembling hands laid on your lap in an effort to hide them.

"I, um—" he paused for a moment. His lack of words confirmed your worst nightmares. He really was going to do it. You tried to swallow down the knot in your throat, only making it more painful. "Would you like to go to Stark’s charity gala with me?" he blurted out.

What?

"Uh." It takes you a second to compose yourself. He wasn’t leaving. He wasn’t kicking you out of his life. He was asking you to go with him to the gala this weekend. You shook your head, clearing out any intrusive thoughts that were left behind. "Yeah, of course. I would love to." you replied with the biggest smile you’ve had in weeks.

He smiled at you. "Ok, good. I’ll pick you up at 7:30"

"Ok."

Hope.

Maybe this was the little ray of hope you were looking for.

You should’ve never said yes.

If Starks parties had made an impression on you, the gala was certainly something to behold. Elegant, radiant, stylish, and graceful were the adjectives that came to your mind. The event was held at the Manhattan Center. The space was open, wide and decorated to perfection. Every single detail of it was planned and executed with precision, surely something made by his wife.

You were grateful for Steve’s insistence on helping you pay for your outfit. Your beautiful, floor-length, golden embroidered dress, with which you had fallen in love as soon as you laid eyes on it, would probably have cost you a kidney. You felt beautiful in it. Your hair and makeup were done by professionals, and the heels that squeezed your toes made the perfect combination of grace and beauty. It could almost be compared to a fairytale.

"You look beautiful." was the first thing Steve managed to say. The way he smiled and his eyes went wide as soon as they landed on you is an image you will keep in your brain forever. A few seconds after he composed himself, he pulled you into a kiss, a long, passionate kiss.

You don’t think you’ve ever smiled brighter in your life.

Steves' hand held the back of your waist, guiding you through the sea of dresses and tuxedos. The dance floor was open; people were already dancing to the melodic tune. As you reached the front of the room, you noticed all eyes were on you. You suppose it wasn’t a surprise that the girl that Captain America had brought to such a serious event was a spectacle on its own. Finally reaching your table, you noticed Bucky and Sam were already at your table next to some of their friends/coworkers. A shower of compliments rained on Steve and you, making heat reach both your faces.

"Wow. You look great, shortcake. "

"You look amazing, baby."

"You guys look really good together."

The rest of the night went by in a blur. Smiles, laughter, and alcohol fill your memories. You’ll never forget how happy you were at that time. Hanging out with people you’ve only seen on the news and magazine covers who were surprisingly welcoming was an odd situation. They laughed, they made mistakes, and they were funny. They were just people, after all.

You turned around to see Steve’s face, but, for a quick moment, all that greeted you was a frown. His hand was holding yours, but his mind was elsewhere. An internal turmoil was happening inside his head that he wouldn’t let you see as his eyes were stuck looking at the crowd across the room.

And as quickly as it came, that frown disappeared. His eyes connected with yours, and he placed a kiss on your temple.

He dragged you away to the dance floor, his hand still linked to yours as you found a spot in the middle. The way he had stood up so quickly had scared you, his eyes no longer covered by the complex storm of thoughts he was having. One of his hands found its way to your waist, his hold pressing you against his chest. The other one grabbed your hand as he led you through the music. A soft romantic melody was playing, the couples around you melted into each other, and, to your surprise, you did the same.

Blue eyes stared at you, and for the first time in a while, they didn’t feel cold. They were warm, the type of warmth that makes your heart skip a beat. The type of warmth that raises butterflies in your stomach and heats your face. It's the type of warmth that makes you want to stay there forever, because no matter where you are or what you do, nothing will ever compare to that.

And just like that, it was like the past few months didn’t exist. The unsavory taste that distance and rejection had left in your mouth was washed away with a simple look. A true testimony of how love can make us so naïve and a horrible reminder of how weak this man could make you.

Once again, he kisses you, but this time it feels different. It’s intense and deep, his hands gripping you as they travel all over your body. The kiss had so much behind it, your brain was going haywire trying to read it all while your heart was about to burst out of your chest. It wasn’t lustful or aggressive as the other ones had been the past week. It meant something different to him.

It meant love.

You had been waiting for this so long that now that it was happening, you couldn’t believe it. If it wasn’t for his touch, you could’ve sworn you were floating. The endless music and murmuring from the crowd disappeared under the spell of him.

The kiss was perfect until it wasn’t.

His lips broke apart from yours too soon. His hands fell from your body. He put as much distance as he could with a step back.

You opened your eyes, and he looked like he had seen a ghost. His chest was heaving up and down while he looked past you. The same love you had felt was still reflected in his eyes, but this time they were also hurt. There was so much pain in them that he looked on the verge of breaking. Heartbreak

With a trembling heart, you turned around to find a woman standing in the middle of the crowd with a lonely tear streaming down her face. A beautiful woman with long blonde silky hair wrapped around a perfect black satin dress stood there with the same look in her eyes as Steve’s. You’d recognize that look anywhere; the same broken eyes of someone that was still in love with the past.

She truly was breathtaking. This was the first time you had ever seen her, and you could understand why Steve was smitten by her. She was perfect in every way. Attractive, beautiful, confident, and, based on what he had told you, smart. How could he not still love her?

This wasn’t your love story. It was theirs.

Steve didn’t notice when you left the dance floor. Neither when you went straight to the bar and started drinking your sorrows away. What was the point of loving a man who would never look at you like he looks at her?

You should’ve taken this as a sign to go home. The crushing reality of how you love someone that will never love you was already a good enough reason to leave. But as the stubborn, heartbroken woman that you were, you stayed. Not to save your dignity, but to use Stark's vast collection of whiskeys, vodkas, and tequilas.

Maybe if you would’ve left, your heart could’ve still been saved.

The bitter taste of the whiskey wasn’t a problem for you anymore. The way you were drinking it, anyone could’ve thought it was water. After your sixth shot, you were still, in some ways, self-aware enough to know you were about to cause a spectacle of yourself if you kept drinking in public. You grabbed the bottle you were pouring yourself from, stumbling away from the bartender as he yelled at you for leaving without paying.

"Put it on Captain America’s tab."

Bucky had yelled your name as you kept walking away. Your eyes connected for a few seconds, and his worried stare intensified. He knew. Of course he had seen the whole ordeal going down, it didn’t really surprise you. After all, Bucky was the one that warned you about her after returning. The one that still wanted to spare your feelings from all this pain.

Somehow you ended up going through a door. Behind it was a room filled with chairs, tables, and other furniture. Props that they probably used for other types of events. Before you got the chance to turn around, moans and whines reach your ears. The nature of the noises was obvious, and by the sounds of it, they were both having a good time. But something about them sent chills down your spine. Something was wrong.

"Fuck, baby."

You froze in your place.

That voice. The moans. The panting.

You’ve heard them before.

No, no, no, no, no.

"God, I missed you so much"

You wanted to leave, go as far away from them as you could. But as you stood there, holding the pieces of your heart together, you realized you couldn’t move. It felt as if the only thing holding you together was your steadiness. Even the sightless movement felt as if it could open the door of hurt you were fighting so hard to stop.

"You didn’t seem to miss me that much twenty minutes ago," she said between pants

"She’s not you. She’ll never be you."

Every word that left his mouth was meant to hurt you, whether it was intentionally or not. Your efforts to keep yourself whole were useless; bits and pieces of your heart slipped away from you. How could he say all those things? How could he have so little regard for you? You knew you could never fill the void she left, but you had hoped that maybe he would see you for who you were and love you for who you were.

A hand grabbed your shoulder, making you jump. It was Bucky, and by the way he was looking at you, he had heard what his best friend had said. Your dignity was added to the list of things Steve Rogers took from you. His arm was wrapped around you to guide you out of the room. You didn’t move, and you didn’t want to leave yet. Something inside you needed to see him. Bucky's eyes pleaded with you to walk out with him, let him take you away and leave them behind. But you had to face the truth at its fullest, no matter how ugly and hurtful it was.

You got close enough to see them. It hurt more than you thought it would. She was spread open on top of a sort of desk they'd found. Her dress was now bunched up around her waist; his hands held the side of her legs as he pounded again and again inside her.

That wasn’t what made your heart slip away from your chest, though. It was the words he said next.

"You have no idea how many times I’ve imagined it was you under me. How many times I almost call her your name? I almost asked her if I could."

"I’ve never wanted her, not really."

"Even when I kissed her tonight, I could only look at you."

Steve Rogers was cruel.

Steve Rogers never cared about you.

He had played with your heart for his own benefit. He had given you false hope in his efforts to not be alone. He didn’t see you as a friend, a lover, or a human being either. He just saw you as a temporary replacement.

The piercing pain in your chest was all that was left, your heart no longer in its place. The other times where you felt your heart cracking were nothing compared to this. The more his words sat on your mind, the stronger the pain got. Waves of pain and grief hit you as you tried to process what was going on.

You backed down, your trembling legs failing you as you tried to move. You thought you were about to crash on the floor, but Bucky's hands had been there to catch you. He held you tightly against him, your hand covering your mouth so you would not make a sound. You wanted to scream. You wanted to cry. But all you could do was stay there and feel.

This time, Bucky's hands held you tightly, more persistent than before, and they guided you outside. In your haziness, you didn’t realize you accidentally stumbled with a bunch of brooms on the side of the path. The loud crash echoed through the room. You heard Steve’s surprised gasp, and unfortunately for you, you weren’t out of sight just yet. With all the remaining strength you had, you turned back to see him.

"Shit," you somehow heard him whisper.

Both your eyes connected, he knew you'd heard what he said. His expression mirrored the one you had when you had seen them. Surprise, shock, and sadness. He saw the pain all over your face, the way Bucky held you so you wouldn’t crumble apart as your heart did. A flash of regret ran through his eyes when he saw the way you were holding your chest.

Regret.

He felt bad for being a fucking asshole.

That made you fucking livid.

How dare he feel regret for stomping all over your heart? How dare he feel sad for using you, over and over and over again, until there was nothing left for you to give him? How fucking dare he feel bad about all this mess when he was the one that created it?

He had no right to feel bad. He never cared about you or anyone else other than her.

You heard him yell your name, pleading with you to wait as he fumbled with his clothes. Bucky's grip on you grew tighter. Perhaps he thought you would be stupid enough to wait for him to explain whatever he wanted to explain. Fortunately for you, you weren’t as masochistic as everyone thought.

"Wait! Please, let me explain." You heard him beg before you went through the door.

You didn’t cry when you saw them together or when you heard him say those vile words. Neither did you cry when Bucky took you to your apartment or when he helped you settle into your bed. Or when he slipped under the covers after you grabbed his hand because you didn’t want to be alone, not anymore. You didn’t cry, not even when he held you closer all night, hoping this could help your broken heart.

You didn’t cry for Steve Rogers anymore.

He could go fuck himself for all you cared.

Toothbrush, skin care routine, passport, makeup bag, laptop, tablet. Everything was in place in your last bag. With a satisfied huff, you closed your suitcase and left it at the front door. A quick glance at the clock you had on your coffee table let you know you still had 5 minutes to spare.

You dropped on the couch, your back thanking you for the necessary rest it needed after a hectic morning of re-organizing your suitcases. Your month-long trip was turning out to be a two-month-long one. With Bucky's press tour taking two weeks longer than planned and you cashing out your two weeks of vacation savings, the clothes you packed weren't enough.

The vacation destination of your trip was still undecided. Maybe somewhere sunny and tropical, ideal to get the perfect tan you couldn’t get in New York. Or maybe you'd go to a secluded cabin in the mountains, knowing how much you needed some alone time. Your fantasies were interrupted by your phone's ringtone. You didn’t even have to look at the screen to know who it was.

Steve had called you every day since the gala. The first call you got from him was the hardest to ignore. The picture you had taken of both of you covered your screen as it kept ringing. In all honesty, you would’ve probably picked up the call if it weren’t for Bucky's intense glare. The way Bucky's eyes could speak to you always amazed you and, in this case, you knew what they were saying Don't be stupid, don’t give in.

After that first call, you got another three that day, much to your annoyance. Then the next day there were six calls, then eight. It seemed the more you ignored him, the more persistent he became. Fortunately for you, for the past few days you didn’t see him, your schedule clearing up since you took the position as Bucky's companion, instead leaving your coworkers all the heavy work of dealing with superheroes.

But after the first ignored calls came the texts. Then the messages passed through coworkers. Then there were the flowers. If only he had done this before he broke your heart.

The incessant ringing came back. You thought after the last six days went by without an answer, the message would be pretty clear, but apparently another strong characteristic of Steve Rogers was his persistence. A persistence that wouldn’t stop, not even if it would spare you from all the pain he caused you. Nothing mattered as long as he could take whatever he wanted.

Steve Rogers was selfish. You were done with selfish.

So you answered the phone.

"Stop calling me!" you screamed into the device.

"Please, just let me—"

"Whatever you want to say to me, I don’t want to hear it. Stop calling me, stop texting me, stop asking about me, stop sending flowers or whatever the fuck you buy for me. Stop. Trying. To. Contact. Me."

Your own words surprised you. The strength that came from within them freed the tightness in your chest that you’ve had for so long. Your harsh words were met with silence, neither of you daring to hang up. You didn’t notice when your eyes started to well up, when your hands were shaking or when your muscles were so tense, they begged you to relax.

What seemed like minutes went by with the same quietness, both your heavy breathings were the only things letting you know you were still in the call. After a few more moments, Steve finally gave in and broke the silence.

"I’m sorry." he whispers.

You huffed. "That doesn’t change anything"

"I know."

Maybe the best option would've been to hang up and cut things now before you were exposed again. That would’ve been the smart thing to do. Unfortunately, love and grief are rarely driven by reason.

"You knew, didn’t you?" Your voice trembled.

"Knew what?"

"That I..."

That I love you, is what you wanted to say. However, your chest constricted within itself every time you were reminded of your own feelings. You couldn't do it, not saying it out loud was the only spec of dignity you had left and your death grip on it was lifesaving.

You cleared your throat, your hand clutched at the edge of the couch as a way to embrace yourself. "That I have feelings for you"

"Yes," he answered reluctantly.

"Yet you still used me."

A few seconds passed before he was able to muster a weak response. "Yes"

Silence really was deafening. Never in a million years did you think the most menacing sound of a relationship crumbling apart would be silence. There are so many meanings that can only be expressed through the lack of words. Silence meant pain and heartbreak, but it also meant acceptance.

And bitterness came with acceptance.

"I’ll see you in a couple of months." you scoffed.

"No, please!" he pleaded before you could hang up. "Please don’t leave. Your coworkers told me you’re going with Bucky to his press tour today, but I want to see you. I need to see you." His voice was shaky, an undecipherable tone spilling from his rushed words that almost made you change your mind. Almost.

"Stay, please."

Love was a strange force. It was supposed to be selfless, giving, and forgiving. But once you didn’t have anything else to give, it was easy to not feel it. Even if it was there, lingering in the back of your head.

A couple of weeks ago, you would’ve given everything to stay if he asked you, without a single doubt. But now, the connection and devotion you had to the super soldier are buried. You had built walls so high up that not even the warmest of words could make them crumble.

You had to save your heart, whatever was left of it.

"No"

If you like the story please interact: reblogs, likes and comments go a long way. Feedback is always appreciated!

A/N:There will be a second part to this, more info on it here.

Part 2 is already out.

Requests are OPEN

#steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers angst #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fluff #steve angst #steve smut #captain america #steve rogers fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers #steve x you #steve x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #avengers fic #avengers fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe

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thisismeracing · 6 months

Text

MICK SCHUMACHER MASTERLIST

✦ MICK SCHUMACHER ▶ MS47

All my Mick posts here

▸ main masterlist | patreon guide ▸ taglist ▸ who I write for & guidelines ▸ subscribe to Patreon for exclusive content ▸ tip me on ko-fi

KEYS: s: smut f: fluff a: angst ✷: Patreon exclusive

― ✦ SERIES

king of my heart: Mick Schumacher rode a lousy wave for quite some time, so when the sky gets cleaner and the sun brighter he just knows something terrible may be in store for him. Whereas y/n was just so magnetic, and the possibilities of life with her seemed better than anything his mind could ever create, that’s why, for the first time in forever, he threw caution carelessly through the window, hoping to get to the finish line before it catches up on him.

― ✦ SOCIAL MEDIA AU

I don't wanna be your ex (f): Y/n and Mick used to be the golden couple in the paddock, that’s why the internet went wild when they announced their breakup. Imagine how they reacted when Y/n dropped a song about not wanting to be his ex. Would the couple have any hope of getting back together?

sunshine (f): In which Mick starts dating an earthy/spiritual girl who just loves nature and good energy.

it was always you (f): Mick and Yn decided to stay friends after breaking off their two years relationship, but it seems like things weren’t that broken. Maybe having the same friend circle and seeing each other all the time meant that things were never really over.

angels like you (a): They say misery loves company, maybe that’s why Yn accidentally made Mick miserable too.

super shy (f): The one where your boyfriend is your biggest fan to the point of turning his account into a fan account or something of the sort. Or, Mick and Yn’s relationship through the years

go shawty (f): Every year Yn gets Mick a unique birthday cake. This year she’s ready to surprise the internet and her boyfriend again.

― ✦ BLURBS

I regret meeting you (a)

Say it again (f)

Friends don't (f)

I think I'm in love (f)

Speak now (a)

Light's on (f)

Suck it (s)

All mine (s)

Morning light (f)

Schatzi (f)

― ✦ REGULAR IMAGINES

our baby Angie (f): What happens when Mick refers to you as Angie's mom?

rosy cheeks, salty hair, warm bodies (s): After finally matching their schedules and booking a trip together, Yn and Mick decide to go to Mallorca for a well-deserved break. The fact that they went weeks without seeing one another and the tension around the hot weather and beach garments only helped build the momentum in which her boyfriend would absolutely ruin her in bed.

cherry (s): Mick has an idea while lying in bed during a lazy weekend, and Yn is more than ready to oblige.

suit testing (s): Yn decides to tease Mick until he gives up and takes her against the bathroom door while still wearing his racing suit.

an avid learner (s): Mick has been nothing but an attentive lover since they started dating, what Yn didn’t know was that he would be even more attentive in bed. It’s their first time having sex, and Mick is an eager learner, he’s set to make sure Yn forgets she ever dated someone before him.

banana pancakes (f): Mick is used to racing cars and living at high speed, but lazy rainy mornings with you are his favorite. Cuddling in bed, making banana pancakes, and listening to the rain fall down while swinging together on the front porch, no travel or circuit beats these moments.

love sips (s): Some bad moments leave the feeling that your whole day was destroyed. Sometimes, all you need to navigate life’s ups and downs is someone to remember you that bad events don’t equal a bad day, Yn decides on a very peculiar approach to remind herself that, and Mick, her boyfriend, is happy to help.

god is a woman (s): Making out in bed never felt this deep and heart-stopping, but dating Mick and having him love you is a full experience of being a goddess. Your hips were his altar, and he would swear to everyone that God is a woman because you’re it to him.

call me obsessed (s): Everyone talks about how good it is to date someone who’s exactly like you, but Mick has been finding it hard to believe, especially when his girlfriend has the same sunshine energy as him. The problem? Too many friendly flirts around her. And though he’s not a jealous guy, he finds himself ready to praise her and prove to her that he’s the only one. You can say he’s obsessed.

twisted love (a): The rule is clear for all celestial beings: to love the Almighty beyond everything. They can’t share the feeling. It is perpetually prohibited for angels to get fond of humans, especially the protector angels. They are the ones who will follow their human on earth and protect each one. Those Angels and the humans are the same pairing throughout time. Mick watched Yn die and come to life in different forms each period, and he fell - in love, and from Heaven. Years after searching for Yn, he found her again and he’s ready to get what’s his.

I'll always take care of you (f): The flu caught you out of the blue and completely unprepared, good thing you have your boyfriend around to take care of you.

to build a home (f)✷: Mick and Yn are used to sharing everything, and always spending time with each other. However, they didn’t notice that things got easier because they ended up pilling some things in one house. His place is theirs now, but the same happened with her place. It only takes their respective siblings one look to figure out the whole situation. Will it scare them, or will they finally move in together?

die from a broken heart (a/f): After a fight with Mick, your secret boyfriend, you find yourself crying in your father’s arms, and it won’t take much for Toto to connect the dots. The thing is: what is going to happen when he finally does?

― ✦ CONCEPTS

college!mick (masterlist)

― ✦ HEADCANONS

♡ how mick is as a boyfriend ● part 02 ♡ aftercare with mick ♡ how mick is as a husband ♡ baby making season ♡ size kink ♡ breeding kink ♡ mick dating a black girl ♡ fighting with mick ♡ choking kink ♡ NSFW alphabet ♡ mick dating a desi girl ♡ mick dating a korean girl ♡ mick dating a girl with anxiety ♡ mick dating a latina ♡ mick dating a K-pop idol

#ms47 #mick schumacher #mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher x you #mick schumacher fanfic #f1 fandom #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #op: masterlists

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rahonn · 5 months

Text

Rust

A/N: Gobble up the angst my children

Pairing: Eustass Kid x reader (no pronouns mentioned!)

Word count: 3511

Trigger warning: mentions of alcohol and drug abuse, toxic relationship, a bit of crime

_________________________________________

He never intended for anything to come out the way it did. Foul smell of burned meat invaded his nostrils, clinging to every inch of his exposed skin. And once again, alone and angry, he threw the plates against the wall. Mashed potatoes, looking more like a soup, ran down the ugly greyish paint, slab of overcooked beef slapped hard against the floor soon after. This was the drop of grease that started the fire. Low rumble started deep within his chest, making him vibrate all over. Soon, he was roaring like a hurt animal, throwing things all around, smashing plates, stomping on the utensils, throwing chairs. One of them smashed the window and fell out. Someone screamed right before wood broke into pieces against the concrete. Not even five minutes later someone started to bang on his front door, but he didn’t even hear them. Blue and red lights flashed outside accompanied by deafening sirens of two police cars and only then he stopped, suddenly feeling empty.

All that was left of Eustass Kidd were ashes and acrid smoke.

He was never the one to be interested in love. Not after they killed Victoria. They were young, sure, but the fact police never even bothered to open an investigation messed him up real good. Only other person he could count on whatever happened was Killer. With time, Wire and Heat joined their fucked up duo-turned-group. They caused a lot of ruckus around town, they were a violent bunch. Only thing they were really good at was producing noise and fixing or recycling electronics and car parts. So they leaned into it, putting their anger at the state of the world into making money from fixing whatever they could that they later spent on studio and crappy instruments.

They sounded awful at first, but that’s how they felt. Nothing made sense in this fucked up world, why should their music do?

By complete chance they found themselves in the middle of the woods, drinking. Being still underage, this was one of few places police wouldn’t catch them. The sound they never expected there suddenly appeared – raspy, sonorous voice boomed all around them. They listened awfully familiar lyrics, perfect rendition of one of the bands they drew inspiration from. Peeking out at the main trail from behind some bushes, they saw young human dressed in all black, with tattered leather jacket on, few sizes too big and bovvy boots not even tied up.

That was the day their group got a new member and Eustass Kidd felt something move in his chest the second mesmerizing eyes looked at him. The smile light up his world. Nothing got fixed, it didn’t work like that. But Kidd started to change, bit by bit.

He started showing off more, expecting a praise from their new member. And he often got it. Everyone, him included, saw they were smitten, just head over heels for Eustass. They looked at him like he was the best this world could produce and he liked it. He got addicted to this feeling of being needed so desperately. He became their air, their water, their food, hobby and job. He was their everything. They were his obsession, but he would never, ever, say it out loud.

And maybe that’s where he went wrong.

All the times they practiced, drank the night away, went out to vandalize something or just to walk around, they tried to glue themselves to his side. He made fun of them a lot for it, they laughed it off. They loved him unconditionally. He called in the middle of the night? They soon stood on his doorstep, all sweaty and barely able to breathe. He told them to get him something? They would move heaven and earth to get it, even if it meant stealing or committing fraud. Or robbing someone. He wanted a star? They would somehow get into spaceship, burn their hands and destroy themselves, just to bring it down to him even if it was the last thing they’d do.

It was unhealthy, their relationship. Kidd, basking in the power he held over them, often poked fun at them, made fun of them. They laughed at it too, even though Killer and the rest tried to stop Eustass from saying such things. They were part of their small army, it was them against the world after all.

But one day, they became distant. All of a sudden Kidd lost his sun, his moon and the stars. His heart shifted, but he was too prideful to reach out, to ask what was happening. How furious he became after he saw they interacted with the rest of their band like earlier, before they decided on the name. What he didn’t know was they also slowly withdrew from the rest as well. It started with ignoring their texts, missing few practices here and there. Then it became more frequent. And when Killer, most emotionally mature out of all of them, asked what was wrong, they told him only about wanting to leave the band. Once Kidd heard it, his heart turned to stone. He jumped on his bike and drove straight to their house, forgetting about speed limits or even his helmet. He was furious, but cold. And he didn’t scream at them when they opened the door. Coldly he asked if it was true, if they were betraying the band like that.

If they were betraying him like that, but that part stayed silent.

Once shining eyes sparkling whenever he came into room, now looked at him without much emotion, dull and bland. They confirmed, they were indeed thinking about leaving to pursue higher education.

“We can’t play around like that for much longer. We need to grow up, sooner or later. I’m choosing now as my time of change.”

He spit on their shoes and with pure disgust he told them to never show their face near him. And that was that. He was hurt, he was furious, he felt betrayed once again. For the second time in his life, human he loved died in his eyes. This wasn’t the rebellious, up to anything person he met all those years before.

And they disappeared from the face of the earth after that, leaving black hole where Kidd’s heart once has been. The echo of their voice haunted him, whole band was missing them. But all members respected their decision. Only one that badmouthed them was Eustass, who put even more energy into their music, for the first time in very long with empty space near microphone. He forbade all Victoria Punk’s members from even talking about getting a replacement.

“We’ll manage without another leech just waiting to betray us.”

But when they caught the eye of one of bigger alternative labels, Killer sat Kidd down and talked to him for hours. That this was their chance of making it big and getting their story out there, shining a light at fucked up sides of this world. That he really needed to let them go already. They chose different path in life and that’s fine. It didn’t mean Kidd should let it hold him back from excelling in life. Eustass, after long few minutes of silence, said he got it, he’d find the vocalist soon.

First truly big concert was just ahead of them and he would make sure it’d make them talk of the country, if not the world. Stacks of song lyrics piled up under his bed, almost spilling out from there and their new frontman would sing them. After first fifteen minutes, they were already sweaty, giving their all. With guitar pick between his fingers, Kidd grabbed the mic, looking out into the crowd for a second, before closing his eyes and letting his voice carry through the air. With each word he got out there, he felt shield, carefully placed over his heart, bend, twist a bit and crack. Every song healed him just a little bit more, leaving him in the pit full of only sadness.

He missed them, their laugh, their eyes, the way they put all their energy into whatever they were doing. For maybe the first time in his life, when panting, covered in sweat he looked at the mass of bodies jumping and obeying his every word, he looked at his band, his best friends and smiled sadly. He walked over to Killer, who thought that maybe he wanted to change the song they were about to play. But Kidd just grabbed his bicep and looked deep into his eyes.

“I love them, Killer. And I need them back.”

As if lightning struck, Victoria Punk got their second, third, fourth and fifth big show, propelling them forward faster than it was necessary. Suddenly, they were doing interviews, got their own merch, started selling VIP tickets, had meet-and-greets with fans who cried and screamed upon seeing them.

Kidd made it his mission to find them though. He took out the songs they wrote and along with the band he mastered them, refusing to let even one word in them change. He hoped that maybe if they made it big enough, if they started to use their lyrics, they’d come to one of the shows. Because frankly, Eustass didn’t even know where to start looking for them.

The only time he wasn’t thinking about them were times when he snorted some coke or fucked someone. And it became his comfort, cushioning yet another fall after failed attempt of finding his love. It became his new habit, his new addiction to get rid of his old one – them.

Kidd started taking more drugs any of the guys from Victoria Punk even saw in their whole life. He often caught him mumbling to himself, off in his own world, their name leaving his lips all too often. Kidd smiled softly, staring into the void while sitting on the couch and talked under his breath about ‘how good it was to have them back’. And it scared Killer to no end. Soon, only he was allowed to enter Eustass’ room so the others wouldn’t know the extend of the damage done. He tried to pick the pieces of his best friend and mend them together, he searched all over for them, thinking maybe it would help. He even hired private investigator when all leads came up dry. All to pull Kidd back from the edge on which he balanced for the longest time.

And when investigator produced fresh photo of them, Killer relayed this message onto sober Kidd, rare occurrence these days. But Eustass looked at him with empty, sunken eyes and just smiled, not believing a word he said. Killer slapped the photo down with number hastily scribbled on the back of it and ordered his best friend to call them, then and there. To amuse his partner, Kidd grabbed his phone in trembling hands and pressed few buttons.

Phone ringed for a long time. And finally someone picked up making both men freeze on the spot.

“Hello? Who is this?”

No doubt, it was their voice. But Kidd panicked, because what would he even say? That he wanted them back? After all those years of no contact?

The voice whispered softly on the other end: “Kidd? No, there’s no way, right?” they laughed to themselves and cut off the call, leaving Eustass Kidd curled up on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably, already deciding he’d go completely sober, he’d return to his old self and call again.

And he did just that. He got clean, cut off contact with all prostitutes he got to know for all those years. The whole time he nervously scribbled down and erased lines of his confession. The only outlet ever to his emotions became writing songs and singing them with all his chest. Once lead guitarist, now vocalist, Kidd composed the best song his band ever produced.

All to convey his feelings to them, to get them back.

It was first concert of their tour celebrating 30th anniversary of creating Victoria Punk. They managed to pull of starting the tour in the town they lived now instead in their hometown. Killer sent them VIP ticket that included meet-and-greet. In the envelope there was also long letter, describing how whole band felt it was time to maybe reconcile, how they all regretted the day they parted ways. Everything now depended on whether or not they wanted to meet their old friends.

Eustass Kidd thought he would maybe make dinner just to heat it up when he’d inevitably would bring them back to the apartment rented just for the time being, until Victoria Punk stayed in town. He decided to make something simple, so it wouldn’t take a lot of time to heat up, but also would taste good.

Suddenly, after almost 20 years of playing all over the world, he became nervous. He prepared everything, this was about to be greatest show of all the time, ending with his confession.

They walked on the stage, immediately getting into their positions. Instruments were ready, their hearts were ready. The show began without any problems, they rocked the whole stadium like they always did. Whole hour he searched the rows closest to the stage, VIP places where people could still mosh, but were separated from the rest. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he spotted familiar sign. He saw that line over and over again, motive repeating in their songs, the handwriting that haunted him in his dreams.

You catch me when I fall, we sail off in the night

The last song Victoria Punk performed was a cover, most fitting to the title of their tour ‘For you’.

“I’m sure you’ll like our rendition of Starset’s song Die For You” Kidd smirked right into the microphone. He tried to convey his feelings the whole time he stood on this stage. Tearing his throat to shreds, he heard Killer slamming the drums with all his might. Wire broke guitar pick, Heat almost sobbed while delivering the bass line. And when the song ended, whole stadium erupted into cheers, believing this was the end of the show. They all let them believe it, walking backstage. But Kidd only waited for lights to be turned off. He grabbed acoustic guitar he held onto from the day all Victoria Punk’s members signed it, laughing about selling it once they’d be famous.

But Kidd grabbed it and walked back on stage. He sat on the edge with guitar close to his chest and struck a chord. Single reflector snapped on, finding him in a flash. Kidd found the sign he saw earlier and smiled.

“This last song is, and will be, unreleased one. I took a long time to try and convey my feelings since I’m shitty talker. The person this song is to knows who they are. And they are here tonight.” Murmur spread through the crowd, he could swear he saw their eyes light up just. Just like in the good, old days. Suddenly, people vanished, all that was left was Kidd, the guitar and them right there, clutching a sign to their chest.

I sleep on my dreams, living in a nightmare

It hurts, you see, when you’re not here

There’s no past and no future

So, tell me when, when to let go

When to let you go and keep living

Without air, without fire, without soul

So, tell me when, when to let go

When to let you go and keep living

He sang his heart out, holding an eye contact with the one that grabbed his heart and ran all those years ago. And when he was done, he thanked everyone and straight up ran backstage, preparing for meet-and-greet. He made sure security knew who with what ticket number to bring to the back where the table was set up with snacks and five chairs around it for original squad of Victoria Punk to talk in private.

They sped through meeting their fans, making sure they all knew how grateful all members were for them to be there. But Kidd could only think about them, probably already sitting at the table, all nervous, looking around, playing with their hands to let out some of their feelings just a bit. How confused he was when he walked to the back all smiley and happy just to find the table completely empty. There was no one there. Killer, Wire and Heat went around, asking the crew and security where was the person with this specific ticket number.

“Yeah, they were here, but all they wanted was for me to give this to you all” one of the guards said, holding out four envelopes, each with different name on it. Kidd, still in shock, couldn’t move. Killer grabbed two last envelopes from guy’s hand and smacked Eustass on the back.

“Let’s go, partner” he said, sadness tainting his voice. Kidd let him lead him all the way to the car. Whole drive to the apartment, he held onto the envelope with his name scribbled on tightly, as if it could fly away at any second. Killer helped him get out of the car and made Kidd give him all valuables. “Just to be sure you won’t have anything to buy drugs with” he whispered, explaining himself, but Eustass automatically just put everything onto outstretched hand. He even shrugged off custom-made leather jacket before marching up the stairs.

He closed the door, mechanically turning on the oven to heat up the dinner he made. And he sat down on the couch, envelope in hand. He stared at it for the longest time before carefully pulling out card from the inside.

Dear Kidd,

Words already started dancing and merging together, but somehow, he was able to read it. Slowly, line after line, he read about their feelings. How hurt they were, how he treated them like a dog, using their admiration to make himself make feel better, how they finally decided to cut him off because their mental health was lower than the floor back then. And how hopeful they were he’d maybe contact them once they heard about Victoria Punk’s first CD, how they spent fortune going to all shows they played in their country, how they saw him spiraling and then getting back up, how proud they were, how they wrote countless letters to him, but never sent anything in the end. And how happy they were to receive invitation to this show with VIP tickets and handwritten note from Killer, how they missed all members of their little rascal band from their past, how nice it was to know they still thought about them.

And I never told you this, but I’m sure you knew already. I loved you. All this time, I loved you like crazy. And honestly, I still love you. But I also know you better than everyone, Boss. I know you just miss having someone stuck to you like a velcro, staring up at you with limitless admiration. That’s all. You were honestly my everything. My world, my air, my water, my hobby, my job, my soul. But it’s too little too late.

I’m sorry, I didn’t want to say those things like that, but I know I would cave in if I saw you in person. I would fall to my knees and beg you to take me with you, make me a part of Victoria Punk once again. But I know I would never be loved by you. Not in the way Victoria was, not in the way I deserve to be loved. You would, at most, make me your mascot again, just like you did when we were kids.

I am happy now.

Kidd smashed the mirror in the bathroom, no longer able to look at himself.

I found a guy that loves me and treats me with respect.

Sink got ripped out of the wall and thrown on the floor, smashed to pieces.

I wish I could kiss you and tell you I love you one time.

He looked out the window, contemplating the jump.

But please, let’s leave it in the past.

But the door got kicked in, police swarmed the apartment.

I miss you terribly, wishing it was you who I slept by every night.

By the time they got to him, he blacked out from the blood loss, his left arm bent weird in four different places.

I love you, Kidd, like I never loved, love or will love anyone.

He woke up in the hospital, staring up at the ceiling, his heart of steel laying in the pool of tears.

Please, forget about me.

Killer, Wire and Heat stood by his side when he got the news – they had to amputate most of his left arm, which meant no more shows for a little while.

Forever yours.

But that didn’t matter anymore, since his heart that lived for music, slowly got eaten away by the rust.

#one piece #op #eustass kid #eustass kidd #one piece eustass kid #eustass kid fanfiction #op eustass kid #eustass x reader #eustass captain kid #eustass kid x reader #eustasscaptainkid #eustass kid x y/n #eustass kid x you

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