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justmeinadaze · 4 months

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Little Girl Gone (Steddie X You)

A/N: This is the story I mentioned yesterday! Trying something new for me but I hope y'all enjoy it. I've always found Mafia Eddie incredible sexy <3. This is an AU with a mixture of Stranger Things you will definitely recognize :). I wrote with the idea that Hawkins is a big city so keep that in mind lol

Warnings: Mafia Gangster Eddie/ Officer (slightly mean) Steve Harrington/ Doctor Fem Reader, SMUT, use of the color system, degrading if you squint, spanking, dirty talk, etc.

ANGST, Obviously (and not just because I am me lol), Eddie runs a rival gang in Hawkins and is in love with Steve (Romeo and Juliet style), Steve mentions being jumped and Eddie retaliates getting hurt in the process, mentions of murders by Eddie, Reader takes care of them both performing surgery on the gangster, guns are pulled and our boys are threatened, cliff hanger ending because I can.

Word Count: 8284

"Little girl gone, got a gun from a gangster Run little girl, run little girl, bang, ha."

“Officer Steve Harrington.”, you read from his chart as you enter the exam room before flashing him a big smile. “I’m Dr. Y/L/N. How can I help you today?”

“My, uh, Captain said I needed to come get a checkup. I was wounded in the line of duty a few days ago.”

“Oh no. I’m really sorry to hear that. May I ask what happened?”

“Does that matter?”, he snapped.

You dealt with sassy patients on the regular. It came with the territory especially in the area your office was located in. In this part of the city, your clinic usually catered to people who didn’t want to check in at a regular hospital because their name could get dinged for other offenses. You always felt like everyone deserved care so when you opened your clinic, you made sure to do what you could within the means and resources you had available.

Officers normally never entered your building but within these past few months you had seen them more and more frequently. You had heard rumors of a new gang in the area trying to make things more…democratic…so there was less chaos in the streets but in turn that brought more of a police presence because most of the people around here hated being threatened into submission reacting violently if need be.

Thankfully, you weren’t easily shaken so this admittedly good-looking man of the law raising his voice didn’t frighten you one bit.

“It does if you want me to assess you properly.”

“Then why did you ask?”

“I like to be polite at first. Now, are you going to tell me what happened or should I mark in your file here that you refused to answer so your Captain can deal with you?”

Steve’s amber eyes scanned you over briefly before a small smirk painted his beautiful lips.

“I got jumped by one of the rival gangs in the area. Beat me up pretty good.”

Sitting in your wheely chair, you slid toward him and carefully lifted off his shirt, his face wincing as he lifted his arms. Large purple bruises were splattered along his ribs and around to his back. Just from the wounds alone, you could tell he was kicked and punched repeatedly. His face had some scratches and swelling but it looked like nothing compared to his upper torso.

“Oh wow. I’m so sorry. Did you go to the hospital?”

“I did. They did some X-rays and shit. Thankfully nothing was broken but, obviously, moving around has been hard.”

“Beside the bruising, have you experienced any other pain? Like a sharp stabbing pain in your side or anything like that?”

“Uh, no. Just emotional pain.”, he chuckles as his eyes look past you into a memory.

“Ok, I’ll get you some medicine I think will help as well as some cream to sooth the pain of those bruises and swelling. I’ll be right back.”

You weren’t gone long but as you were returning you could vaguely hear his voice through the door between you both.

“Naw, she said she’s going to get me some meds and shit…Baby! Seriously, you worry too much. I’m fine… No, NO. Don’t you dare go over there or I swear God—” Hastily, he hung up his phone when he heard you knock and reenter the room he was in. “Sorry. That was my, um, my boss checking in. Just reiterated what you told me.”

“Good. Now this will help with the pain…”, you instruct as you hand him some medication before flashing him the cream. “…and this will help with the swelling. Just put this on your bruises every six hours and you’ll be good to go in no time.”

Opening the bottle, you squeeze some of the medicine in your hand, and gently rub it along his admittedly muscular abs.

“You’re, um, going to feel it tingle a bit and feel warm but after a few moments it will cool down.”

That smirk you saw previously appeared on his lips again when he caught you staring as your hands slowly rubbed along his skin.

“That feels really good actually. Your hands not the cream.”

“Hm. I’m sure your girlfriend touches you enough.” Steve raises an eyebrow at your insinuation. “I mean unless you call your captain ‘baby’.”

A slightly nervous sigh leaves you as the officer’s grin grows and his eyes meet yours.

“Hm. Bad girl listening in on my phone calls. Do you always misbehave like that?”

“This is my clinic, Officer Harrington. I can do whatever I want especially when I have signs everywhere that say, ‘No Cell Phones in the Exam Room.’”

His palm abruptly takes hold of your wrist, pulling you closer to him till your nose was just above his own.

“This may be your clinic, honey, but these are my streets. I keep order here.”

“I think the gangs here would disagree.”

“Pfft, like you know anything about what goes on out there.”, he spits as he lets you go.

After throwing a scowl his way, you pretend to be preoccupied with washing your hands.

“I know that when I first moved here, the fatality rate in this area was extremely high until that new gang leader took over the Munson crew. I believe, if the rumors are correct, the new boss is actually the son of the old leader Al Munson. Since the son has taken over, oddly enough, the streets have become safer. More kids come out to play and I’ve seen less addicts in the last couple of months.”

As you dry your hands and turn to face him, you notice the hardened look on the officer’s face as he listens to you speak.

“I also know there have been more of a police presence on this side of town as well. I’ve seen a lot of innocent civilians put in ambulances or worse due to the push back of change. Tell me, Officer Harrington, which side are you on? Which gang did that to you? The Munson’s or The Carver’s?”

“I’m on the side of peace. That’s my job.”, he seethes through gritted teeth.

“Yeah… you’re good to go, officer. Have a nice day.”, you growl in annoyance as you leave the room without waiting for him to retort.

##############

Today had been an incredibly long day. After your appointment with Officer Harrington, you had back-to-back visits from so many clients just needing a little bit of help. Your mind was racing as you and your staff did what you could but the truth was you desperately needed more funding. You were running low on supplies and the equipment you had wasn’t the best. It killed you to see your patient’s sad faces when you strongly recommended they head to the nearest hospital for certain tests that you just couldn’t provide at that time.

Your mind was still racing as you began to gather your things to head out for the evening which is most likely why you didn’t even hear him till you exited your office and were met with a gun pointed at your face.

“Don’t be scared. I’m not…I’m not here to hurt you. We need help.”, Steve panted with a heavy breath as the weapon shook in his hand. He was still dressed in the uniform he was wearing when you last saw him but now it was stained in blood and sweat.

“I-I-I…”

Roughly, he took hold of your bicep and dragged you to your waiting room where another man was sitting with his head leaning against the wall. You knew he wasn’t a cop because he wasn’t dressed like the man beside you but instead in an expensive looking black suit with the white button up shirt underneath his jacket now stained with red. You noticed immediately his palm was holding his side and that area of his clothing was a darker shade than all the rest.

“I can’t help with a wound like that. He needs a hospital.”

“Oh you don’t say?”, he snarled as he tugged you to his chest. “If I could have taken him to a fucking hospital I would have! But I brought him to you, now HELP HIM!”

“Steven!”, the long-haired man grumbled as he looked your way. “Be nice. She’s just being…honest. Right, sweetheart?” He sighs when you nod and tries to get to his feet but the officer is quicker, running to his side to help him stand. “See, the thing is, princess, if I go to a hospital I’ll die anyway…because they will put me…in jail especially after they find out…what-what I did tonight.”

“What did you do?”

“That doesn’t fucking matter right now. He’s losing blood and fast!”

Swallowing nervously, you step forward to unbutton his shirt and examine the cut you found. He needed stitches as soon as possible and most likely a blood transfusion unless someone got to his wound fast enough. Gesturing them both to follow you, you power walk to an exam room and begin searching for supplies as Steve carefully places the man on the table. While he removes the bloody clothes from his top half, you prep a syringe.

“Is he allergic to anything?”

“No. What is that, that you’re giving him?”

“It’s a pain killer. It won’t be as strong as ones at a hospital but…”

As you stick the needle into his stomach just above his cut, he flinches causing Steve’s expression to flood with worry as he moves the man’s hair out of his face. After quickly cleaning the area, you let out a long sigh as you glance their way.

“Even with the shot, this is going to hurt a lot I’m afraid. I’ll try to go as fast as I can but, officer, if you can distract him that may help.”

The man on the table chuckles as he turns his head towards his friend.

“She keeps calling you ‘officer’. Did… you not tell her your name? Or did you… scare her too much to use it?” He cringes as he hisses once you begin sewing in his stitches. “You like to…pretend to be so badass…but we both know you’re a…sweetheart.”

“Pretend to be a badass, huh? You’re one to talk.”, Steve scolds in a light sounding tone as he softly places his forehead against his own. “Eddie, I told you not to go over there.”

“They tried to hurt what was mine…”, he growled low in his throat even making you pause for a moment before focusing again on your task. “They wanted to send a message, well, message received.”

“I could have handled it.”

Grabbing Steve’s cheeks roughly, he brings his lips to his own.

“No one takes my things and NO ONE hurts what’s mine. You belong to me, baby, and I promised I’d keep you safe.”

Finishing his sutures, you bandage him up and wrap some gauze around his lower waist.

“Thank you.”, he whispers exhaustedly as he extends his shaky hand towards you. “What’s your name, pretty girl?”

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Don’t worry, Y/N. You’re safe and I promise neither of us are going to hurt you. I’m Edward Munson but you can call me Eddie.” Your eyes widen as you slowly back away from them causing Steve to rise to his feet. “Ah. I see you’ve heard of me. Then you know you can trust me.”

Eddie tries to stand as well but sways before Steve steadies him.

“You…you should be in a hospital. That wound needs to be looked after and you need to rest.”

“I can take care of him.”

“Steve…”

“No. No you can’t. That’s why you brought him to me.”, you sass in frustration as you try to display an air of confidence. Both men scan you over as they try to get a read on you as you continue. “If you refuse to go to a hospital, then give me your address and I can come—”

“No. No addresses. We can’t have you giving it to the police.”

“Oh you mean you?!”

You and Steve square off, tightening your stances as you glare at each other until Eddie laughed beside you both.

“Brave girl with attitude. I like it.”

“I don’t. Little girl needs to be put in her place.”

“I highly doubt you’re the man to do that.”, you sass.

“Yeah well good thing there’s two of us, honey, and trust me, whatever I start Eddie can definitely finish.”

Sighing, you fold your arms as you argue with the internal dialogue inside your head.

“You can come to my apartment but I have one condition. After he heals, I never want to see either of you again.”

Their eyes meet for a moment before Eddie finally nods.

“You have a deal, princess.”

############

“Um, I don’t have a spare room or anything but the couch is comfortable. Just make sure to stay on your back if you can.” Eddie nods as Steve places him down and hastily begins removing the gear attached to him. “Let me grab some blankets and pillows.”

Disappearing into your bedroom, you grab any extra bedding you had and began to head their way but paused when you heard them talking.

“Why are you being mean to her? I thought you said she took care of you.”

“She did. I just… I was worried about you. It’s my job to take care of you to, honey.”

“And snapping at the woman who’s trying to help will do what exactly?” Steve laughs through his teeth at Eddie question. “I think it’s because you like her.”

“Pfft what?”

“Oh, look at Officer Harrington blushing.”, the long-haired man teases as he reaches out to touch the boy’s face. “I know I just met her and she was busy saving my life but I can see why…”, he chuckles before wincing as he grabs his side.

“Are you alright?”, you ask as you come back to the living room and kneel down on your knees in front of him.

“Yeah, I’m alright. I’ve been through way worse than this.”

You take quick note of his wound before handing Steve the things you found, watching with fascination as he tosses the things for him to the side before placing the pillow on his lap and guiding the man back to lay down.

“If, um, if you notice it bleeding through or he starts getting a fever, come and get me immediately.”

The officer nods as he throws the blanket over Eddie and comfortingly rests his hand on his chest, his thumb gently running along the man’s tattooed skin.

***

Your alarm goes at 4am that morning, startling you as you shoot up right. Groggily, you shuffled to your bathroom and grabbed the items Eddie would need so you could change his bandages. Both men were fast asleep when you entered the living room, Steve still clinging to him with his other hand very close to where his gun was resting on the little table you had beside your couch.

“Mr. Munson?”, you whisper as you sit on the coffee table across from them. When he didn’t stir you couldn’t help but take the opportunity to visually take in one of the most notorious gangsters in the city. You had never seen a picture of him and he definitely wasn’t what you pictured when you heard the rumors from people in the clinic.

He did have an air of control surrounding him but his voice and face were incredibly soft especially when it came to Steve. You heard him get upset though so you imagined that amplified out in the streets and you hoped you never met that version of him. He had a lot of tattoos painting his upper torso that seemed completely random except for the symbol of his gang that was tattooed on many other men and women you had seen previously minus the tiny initials “S.H.” inscribed within the design.

Eddie was fairly muscular appearing more toned in his abs and upper arms. Slightly blocking your view was Steve’s massive palm over his chest, almost as if that was his way to make sure the man was still breathing. He had been exceptionally rude with you but with the gangster, he transformed before your eyes, becoming softer and listening to everything the other man said without question. They both obviously seemed to care strongly about each other which you found slightly amusing given their slight Romeo and Juliet story; one being a cop and the other a criminal.

“Mr. Munson.”

Extending your hand, you tried gently shaking his upper shoulder and in one swift motion, he grabbed your wrist and held you tightly as he raised his fist in the air prepared to defend himself. Swallowing nervously, you froze as his intense eyes scanned your own.

“Fuck. Fuck, I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t…” Eddie promptly let you go and winced as he sat up in front of you.

“No, no. It’s ok. After what happened, I completely understand. I just need to check you out and rewrap your wound.”

“Would it be easier for you if we went to the table?”

“Oh, no, this is ok but I do have to turn on the light.”

Eddie follows your eyes as you glance towards Steve.

“Trust me, it won’t bother him one bit. I don’t think he’s had a consistent night’s sleep since he was hurt.”

“How long have you two been involved?”, you ask as you begin the task in front of you hoping to distract him as well from the pain.

“In my business or each other?”, he smirks when you breathily laugh. “Both answers are more or less the same. He had the balls to arrest me on a charge we both knew wouldn’t stick. I knew he was different when he tried to get me to flip sides and sell out my friends. Usually, cops knew better than to do that especially with me.”

The gangster paused when you tried to clean his cut, flinching as he gritted his teeth.

“What happened? Did he take you in?”

“No, I did when I let him fuck me handcuffed in the back of his cruiser.”, he chuckled, slightly surprised when you did as well. “We’ve been watching out for each other ever since. He’s actually not as big of an asshole as he seems. Steve just has a big heart and wants to take care of everything himself. He likes to be the big, strong man, you know? That’s why he’s been so short lately.”

“What happened there? He didn’t tell me; just said he was jumped.”

“I don’t think that’s something you should know. The less we tell you the better.”

“Mr. Munson, you, a well-known Mafia style gang leader, showed up at my clinic after hours with a police officer bleeding out. I think that line has been crossed.”, you grin up at him finding his eyes watching you again. “I assume it was someone from Carver’s side. You told Steve something about them sending a message.”

“Yeah… Jason Carver isn’t exactly a fan of mine even more so since I took over. My dad was always a…shoot first ask questions later which is why he’s in jail right now. He was sloppy and greedy like Jason. I don’t want to hurt people I don’t have to.” Leaning forward, you start wrapping the gauze around him but you can’t help to inhale the strong scent of cigarettes and cologne. You don’t see it but his own head tilts slightly, inhaling your shampoo from the night before when you finally had time for a shower and the regular smells of your office that attached to your skin.

Eddie’s lips ever so slightly grazed your shoulder that was exposed due to the tank top you were currently wearing causing you to shutter softly as you pulled back to cut the bandage.

“Are you afraid of me, Y/N?”, he asked in a low tone that had you exhaling as you tried to maintain your composure.

“Mr. Munson, I work in a city filled with crime and scared citizens. I don’t really have the luxury of being afraid.”

“That’s not what I asked you.” Calloused fingers reached out to grip the bottom of your chin and forced your eyes to meet his. “Even though I take no pleasure in it, I have hurt and killed people. I killed two people just last night. Carver got the idea in his head that roughing up the man I love would have me submitting to him and his whims. I’m not the submissive type and I made sure he knew that by slitting the throats of the two men that put hands on him. I don’t regret it and I’d do it again.”

“How did you get hurt then?”

“Unfortunately, Carver isn’t an idiot. He had more men appear and try to take us out. Steve showed up and someone pulled a knife… Let’s just say that someone got in a good attempt before I snapped his neck.”

The way he spoke about such violent things was so even, almost as if he could be reading from a grocery list. This was his every day and you could tell by his tone he knew it would continue to be. But there was something about him… something that made you feel safe.

“No, I’m not afraid of you, Mr. Munson.”

“I think under the circumstances, you can call me Eddie.”

A cell phone ringing pulled you both apart but didn’t stir the man it belonged to as he continued to snore with his head leaning over the back of the couch.

“Steve. Steven.”, the man called as he shook his arm rousing him from his deep sleep. “Your phone is ringing.”

Without opening his eyes, the officer reached into his pocket, producing his device, and placing it to his ear as he answered with gravelly “yeahs” and “mhmms”.

“I have to go in. Someone called in about the shooting on the eastside and they found Carver’s guys.” Rubbing his eyes and as if he forgot you were there, Steve tenderly kissed Eddie’s lips before rising to his feet and putting on all of his gear once more. “Please keep an eye on him and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“I have to go to work.” Pausing, he exhaled heavily as he turned and flashed you an annoyed look. “I have to. It would look weird if I didn’t. I’ve never missed a day but if we leave early enough…I can bring him with me and keep him in my office.”

“Is it ok to move him that much?”

As if to prove a point, Eddie rose to his feet.

“I’ll be ok. I’m a quick healer. Don’t worry about us.”

###############

Thankfully, you didn’t have too many patients today so you were able to keep yourself locked in your office with the gangster you were attempting to hide. As soon as you brought him in, he fell asleep on your office couch, allowing you to leave him be so you could do what you needed.

As you were reading a chart however you heard giggling in the exam room beside your office and quickly went to investigate, finding Eddie sitting next to a child on the exam table making her laugh.

“Look, princess, you can’t trick me like that.”

“It’s thumb war! You have to be stronger.”

“Ok, best two out of three.”

“Kylie, sweetheart, what are you doing here?”, you beam trying not to startle either of them.

“Hey Dr. Y/L/N! My mom told me to come down to see if you had any more samples of my inhaler.”

“Oh, honey. I don’t. I’m so sorry. I usually try and save one for you but I had another patient who had an emergency so I had to give it to him.”

“Why do you need an inhaler? Is it for the other people whose breath you take away because you’re so adorable?”

Kylie giggles as she turns towards Eddie and blushes.

“No! I have asthma. My mommy brings me here to get my medicine because we can’t afford the stores.”, she sighs as her head hangs.

The man’s eyes meet your sympathetic ones before softly smiling and giving the little girl his attention again.

“Hey. Can you keep a secret?” The small child nods in earnest making his smile widen. “Have you heard of a little convenience store called Cunningham’s Corner? It’s about a 5-minute walk from here. Go to that store and ask for Chrissy. Tell her Eddie sent you and you need an inhaler. She’ll give it to you for free.”

Kylie’s eyes widen as if this man just told her a fairytale.

“Free?”

“Mhmm. But you can’t tell anyone! Because then other people will take advantage.”

After giving him a hug, she jumps down from the table and starts to head for the door.

“Hey! Here. Give Miss Cunningham this paper when you tell her what you need, ok?”, you instruct as you hand her a prescription with the name of what she needs.

“Ok. Thank you, Dr. Y/L/N!”

“Thank you. That was really nice of you.”

Rising from his seat, he waddles with you back to your office.

“It’s not a problem. I heard her coughing and crying so I wanted to make sure she was alright. Is she a regular?”

“Yeah and, unfortunately, it’s not uncommon for her to come by herself. Her mom is a single mother who works 60hrs a week trying to make ends meet. They came to me when she started having her symptoms but there’s only so much I can do here with my resources.”

“Are you underfunded?”

“Yeah. I do what I can but because of where I’m located…”

“Why don’t you move to a better location?”

“I can’t do that. I can’t leave these people. They need someone to help them since a regular clinic would immediately turn them away since a lot of them have no money or no insurance.”

“You’re a very kind woman, Y/N.”

Flashing him a smile, a knock makes you jump as you quickly get up to see who it is.

“It’s Hawkins PD Detective Jim Hopper. I’d like to have word with you for a moment.”

Right as you scan your room, Eddie hides himself in front of you against the wall so he wouldn’t be seen when you finally open the door between you and the gentleman.

“May, uh, my we come in?”

“We?”, you ask as your eyes flick to the wide, stern eyes of Steve behind him. “What’s this about, detective?”

“I don’t know if you heard but we had a gang related fight in the area and we got some intel that Edward Munson may have been severally wounded.”

“Ok? And what does that have to do with me?”

“It wasn’t far from your clinic so we thought, maybe, you heard something or saw something?”

“What time was this?”

“Around 7-8pm.”

“My clinic closes at 6 so—”

“I mean, as a doctor though I’m sure you work late hours—”

“Not last night.” Out of the corner of your eye you see Eddie mime with his hand for you to calm down a bit and you close your eyes as you sigh before responding again. “I’m sorry, Officers. It’s just been a rough week. I left early last night to come in early this morning and do some work. I haven’t heard or seen anything but I can be on the lookout.”

Hopper nods, tilting his hat as he begins to walk away.

“I’m just going to give her some details and information so she knows what to be on the lookout for exactly.”, Steve informs his colleague who confirms before disappearing to lean against the waiting room desk.

Pulling out his notepad, he steps closer to you pretending to write things down.

“Where is he?”, Steve whispers, smirking when your eyes flick to the side. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

“You like it.”, Eddie murmurs. “Should we be worried?”

“No, a few of Carver’s guys are in the morgue.”

You had seen many people come and go during your time as a physician so when the officer shook his head looking away down the hallway, you could tell he was lying.

“What aren’t you telling him?”

Steve’s angry, amber eyes met yours as an annoyed grunt left his lips.

“Nothing. Stay in your lane, doctor.”

“Hey.”, Eddie growled low beside you. “Watch your tone. You wouldn’t keep anything from me would you, Steven?”

“I was questioned this morning seeing as how I was jumped and then suddenly men from Carver’s gang show up dead.”, the cop sighs. “I told you not to go over there.”

You could feel the tension rising between them but you were still being watched and couldn’t risk the gangster being seen. Eddie was slipping to far in his own frustration to think that far as he began pushing off the wall to scold his partner but you quickly placed your hand on his chest lightly pushing him back down.

“Did you get in trouble?”

“No.”, he responds to your question. “But I am being watched a lot closer hence the detective.”

“And your bruises?”

“Huh?”

“You were hurt to. Is the medicine helping at all?”

Steve’s eyes take in your face clocking in your genuine concern.

“It is actually. Thank you.” When you smile back at his answer a tooth filled grin paints his features. “I, um, I should be done here by about 7 or so. I’ll head to your place, come get him, and then…we’ll be out of your hair.”

#############

“Ok, so, make sure to keep this clean and if you find yourself in any excruciating pain or like I told Steve if you get a fever come back to me so I can take a look.”

“Hm. I thought you never wanted to see us again.”, Eddie teased as he carefully put back on the shirt you gave him.

“I don’t but that doesn’t mean I want you to get sick or die or whatever.”

The gangster’s smile grew as he watched you blush.

“How come you don’t have a boyfriend or husband or whatever?”

“What makes you think I don’t?”

“Because if you were our girl, there’s no way I would have gone two days without calling or checking in and I’d definitely have something to say if I found two men sleeping here.”

“Our girl?”

“Oh, sweetheart. Any woman I date is with Steve as well and most can barely handle my attitude and temper let alone both of ours.”

“You seem nice enough to me.”

“I can be mean when I want to be.”

“I’m always busy…to answer your question. A lot of relationships I’ve had can’t handle my schedule.”

“Hm, I understand that. Steve and I have conflicting schedules all the time.” Eddie’s eyes watch you as you gather the trash from cleaning his cut and head towards the trashcan to avoid his gaze. “But we make time for each other. That’s what you do when you care about someone.”

“Yeah, well, I guess no one really cares about me.”, you sassily smirk as you sigh and wash your hands in the sink.

Feeling the energy shift, you turn coming chest to chest with the man himself.

“I care about you. Steve cares about you.”

“I’m pretty sure Officer Harrington hates me.”, you giggle but it tapers off when his face remains stoic.

“He doesn’t. He wouldn’t have brought me to you if he didn’t trust you.”

“You don’t know me, Eddie.”

“I know enough.”

Shaking your head, you laugh again trying to lighten the intense atmosphere as you begin to walk back towards the living room but his hand promptly grabs your bicep and moves you till your standing in front of him once more.

“You saved me and helped him. I just watched you all day take care of people who can’t normally afford care. You have a kind heart and you’re extremely beautiful. Do you know that? Do you know how beautiful you are?”

A knock on your door startled you but not him as he continued to stare down at you waiting for an answer. Silently, you allowed Steve entry who immediately took in your rattled appearance.

“Everything ok?”

“Mhmm. I was just asking Y/N if she knew how beautiful she was.”

His gorgeous, honey hues widen slightly as if he was surprised before turning his attention back to you.

“You know you are, right?”

“I-I think you both should leave.”, you whisper with little to no confidence in what you were saying.

“Is that what you want?”, he mused as he strolled further into your apartment. “Because we can leave right now and like you asked, disappear from your life forever. Or, maybe, you can let us thank you properly.”

“I thought you didn’t like me…said you wanted to put me in my place.”

They both chuckle making your face turn a deep crimson in embarrassment.

“Baby, that doesn’t mean I don’t like you. It just means that I think I’d have a lot of fun playing with you.”

“Playing with me?”

Steve subtly nods his head as Eddie slowly moves closer to the living room where you two were standing.

“Teasing you, kissing you, taking care of you…taking control of you and your gorgeous body till you’re begging me to let you cum.” Tilting his head, his eyes meet yours as his fingers caress your face. “When’s the last time you had someone take care of you?”

The other man comes up behind you, sandwiching you between them as he gently places his palm on your stomach under your blouse.

“I asked you something, honey.”

“It’s been a while.”, you jest making Steve smirk as Eddie stepped closer to you till your back was to his chest. His hand continued to run along your skin with his fingers just barely floating under the waistband of your pants before coming back up to rub your stomach. “I’m scared.”

Everyone freezes in place at your words but as the gangster tries to drop his hand, you quickly catch it and hold it in place back on your tummy.

“Of us?”, he asks.

“I don’t want to get in trouble.”

Resting his head on your shoulder, his palm wonders again this time going further as you feel him slide into your underwear and cup his hand around your heat.

“You won’t, sweetheart. I promise, you’re safe with us. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

“And neither will I. I can protect you from getting in any kind of trouble with the law or anything like that. You have two men here who control both sides of the coin…” As Steve’s voice dropped into a more and more seductive register, Eddie’s lips gently pecked your shoulder and up to your neck as his finger graze your clit while gliding them through your folds.

“You just need to let go and let us control you.”

“Fuck.”, you groaned as he slid two of his digits into your core.

“Is that a yes?”, Steve chuckles sassily as he watches your eyes close as you lean your head against his boyfriend.

“I think so, Harrington, because pretty girl here is just dripping all over my hand.”

“Yeah? We need to hear her say it though. Do you want us to take care of you tonight, honey?”

“H-He—mmm—Eddie can’t with his…with his cut.”

“Oh trust me, Y/N, that won’t be an issue. Now answer my question, please.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I want you to take care of me.”

As if they could read each other’s minds, Eddie’s hand slipped out of your pants and Steve picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and carried you to your bedroom.

“Ow! Something in your vest is stabbing me, Officer Harrington.”, you giggle before he tosses you onto your mattress.

“Sorry. I forgot to take this stuff off. I was blindsided by a stupid question when I came in.”, he grinned as he began removing his equipment and placed them on your bedside table.

Eddie carefully climbed in and you hastily set up pillows so he could lean back comfortable against your headboard.

“Thank you. I don’t think that question was ever answered. DO you know how beautiful you are?”

“Sometimes I need reminding.”, you sigh as your nervous eyes meet his soft ones.

“We can do that, sweetheart.”

Taking hold of your cheeks, he brought your lips to his and your body ignited with an electricity you had never felt before as his lips carefully but firmly mingled with yours. Steve’s laugh echoed through your room as he looped his arm around your waist and pulled you away from the gangster to bring you in front of him at the edge of the bed.

He had taken off his shirt and out of habit as a doctor you scanned his bruises to make sure he was ok. Clocking your care once again, his fingers gripped your chin and brought your mouth to his own.

“It’s ok. I’m still a bit sore but you helped me a lot.”

As he continued to kiss your lips, you allowed him to undress you making him pause when you were fully naked in front of them.

“Jesus Christ.”

“I told you, princess…beautiful.”, Eddie grinned.

Smiling widely at their compliments, your hands roamed Steve’s chest, kissing a trail along the way till you reached his belt and fumbled with the barrier before fully pushing down his pants. You gasped when his cock sprang free causing them both the chuckle again as you practically gapped at the size.

“I know. It was a shock to me to.”, the gangster teased as the officer stuck out his tongue playfully.

“You liked it. And I promise, honey, you’ll like it to.”

Gripping the base, he held his mushroom tip towards your lips and moaned when your tongue darted out to lick the small beads of precum that had begun to leak. Steve pulled your hair into a makeshift ponytail so he could watch as you slowly wrapped your mouth around him and gradually began bobbing your head.

“Shit. Atta girl. Flatten that tongue. J-Just like that.”

Another set of hands softly ran down you back and over your ass before the cool sting of metal hit your behind.

“Did you like that, pretty girl? Did you like Eddie spanking you?”, the officer asked when you moaned loudly.

Fingers glided ever so slightly through your pussy lips and even you couldn’t deny hearing the squishy sound of your slick that obscenely filled your bedroom.

“Oh Stevie. She definitely enjoyed that.”

“Yeah? You like it a bit rough, little girl?”

Eddie guided his middle and ring fingers inside of you eliciting a mewl from your throat that had the man inside of your mouth grunting with pleasure.

“Fuck. I think…I think you can take me a bit deeper.”

Thrusting his hips a bit, you gag around him spilling drool and spit down his length as you mentally take note of the fact that that wasn’t all of him you choked on.

“Come on, honey, take more. I know you can, baby.”

Tears stream down your face as you try but barely take more of him in. Gripping your jaw, he pulls out of your mouth and leans his face in front of yours as his eyes search yours.

“Green, good. Yellow, slow down. Red, stop. What color are you at, Y/N?”

“Fuck… green.”

“Ok, then why are you crying? We haven’t even fucked you yet.”

“I-I-I wanna take more. I want to make you feel good to.”

You heard your tone as it came out of your mouth but you barely recognized it. You sounded like a child who was told she couldn’t play outside because it was raining. What was it about these men that transformed you in this way? In relationships or even one-night stands, you never cared about this kind of thing. Usually, men never complained and you were never fully satisfied after they left resorting to your vibrator to get you the rest of the way.

But for whatever reason, you wanted to impress them. You desperately wanted them to feel good because some part of you had a feeling that they were going to do the same for you.

Steve’s eyes softened as Eddie’s fingers slowed inside of you.

“Be nice to her, babe. She’s got a good heart and she did take care of us.”

“Can you keep your mouth open for me, pretty girl?” He grins when you nod your head, wiping your tears with his thumb before kissing your cheek. “And you are making me feel good. Your mouth feels fucking amazing.”

You beam with pride as you do what he asked, whimpering when Eddie began building you up again.

Holding your head still, Steve guided his cock back between your lips, doing the slow thrusts he was doing before as you kept your mouth closed around him. Your eyes squeezed shut as his pace began to quicken, his tip occasionally hitting the back of your throat.

“There you go, baby. T-That’s it. See? Doing—fuck—doing so well. Now, stay still.”

As he began fucking your face, the gangster matched his pace making you groan as obscenities flowed from the officer’s mouth.

“Shit. Take it, little girl. That’s right. You love the taste of my cock in your throat, don’t you?” Reaching over you, his hand calm down hard on your ass and your palm pushed at his legs signaling you needed air. “Are you gonna cum? Ask him, Y/N. Ask Eddie if it’s ok.”, he commanded as he forced your head towards the other man.

“Eddie, please. Please… can I…”

“Yeah, princess. Cum on my fingers.”

You collapsed as you came, moaning loudly into the mattress as you tried to catch your breath. You weren’t given much time however as Steve manhandled you till you up on your hands and knees again with your face hovering over the bulge in the other man’s pants.

After unbuckling his belt, he pushed them down just enough to free his own cock from his denim confinement and you didn’t hesitate as you wrapped your tiny hands around his thick girth. Hands clung tightly to your waist and you braced yourself when you felt Steve collect some of your arousal with his length before gradually pushing into your entrance.

“Oh, fuck me.”

“How does she feel, Harrington?”

Your eyes fluttered closed as you tried to focus on the man in front of you, letting a long glob of spit land on his tip as you stroked it with your hand.

“S-So…So fucking tight.” His palm came down on your ass and you groaned as he continued to push further inside of you.

“I like my view here. Make—mmm—make sure you fuck her nice and deep. Beautiful girl deserves it after everything she’s been through.”

“Oh, don’t worry, honey. I plan on ruining this little pussy.”

Eddie chuckles as he watches Steve lick his lips as your cunt tightens around him at his words.

“What about you, princess?”, he murmurs as he tenderly pets your head.

“He’s…so BIG.”

“Yeah, he is. Does he feel good?” You nod as your head hangs and he promptly grabs your jaw forcing you to look his way. “Say it.”

“Fuck, Steve, you feel so fucking good!”

“That’s a good girl.”

You mewled when you felt him bottom out, his hips connecting with yours, allowing you to feel every inch before he pulled back and slammed back into you. Eddie’s mouth fell open as you bobbed your head on his cock. While he wasn’t as big as his boyfriend, he was definitely thicker and you felt like your mouth was full of him.

He was much gentler with you, continuing to play with your hair and mutter praises as Steve pounded into you, rocking you further down the gangster’s length as you choked and spit around him.

“God, honey, this pussy is too…fucking…good.”, Steve grunted, smacking his lower half into yours between each word. Leaning over you, he rolled his hips, pushing him impossibly deeper into your cunt as your eyes rolled back. “His dick tastes amazing, doesn’t it? Mmm—fucking love when he shoves it down my throat.”

Moving out of his way, Steve envelopes Eddie into his mouth making the gangster moan as he extends his hand to tangle in his hair. As his boyfriend continued to fuck you, your own groans vibrated against the long haired boy’s balls driving him crazy as he growled through his clenched teeth.

“Fuck! You’re both so fucking sexy. That’s it, baby boy, take my cock.”

After pumping his hips a few times, Eddie let him go and Steve pushed up onto his knees pounding into you till you were seeing stars. Taking the man’s length in your mouth again, you mimicked the other boy’s movements trying to keep a steady pace as you hurdled towards the edge.

“A-Are you about to cum? Fuck, Y/N, you better fucking ask one of us, little girl, if you want to fucking cum!”

Your glassy, needy eyes met the chocolate ones of the man in front of you, pleading as you began to shake.

“Ask, Y/N.”

“Please, Eddie! Please, I need to cum!”

Taking a hold of your hair, he firmly tugged you till your face was fully visible. A small smile flickered across his lips, watching you struggle till he finally nodded granting you permission.

Steve reached around and took hold of your throat, lifting you till you were pressed against him, squeezing you tightly as he fucked you through the most intense orgasm you had ever had.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl. Are you on the pill?”, Steve roughly growled in your ear, his rhythm and intensity increasing when you said yes. “Good because I’m going to fill up this pussy and you’re going to take it like a good little girl. You’re going to take everything I give you and be fucking thankful.”

He grunted in your ear as he held your lower half against him as he rolled his hips aggressively, pumping his release into your cunt.

“Steve.”, Eddie called in a firm tone you barely heard through your haze.

“Excuse me, honey.”

Carefully, he pulled his softening cock out of your aching hole and gently laid you on your side before crawling up the gangster’s legs and taking him into his mouth. You watched with hooded eyes as his boyfriend took him all the way down his shaft, massaging his balls with his palm, as Eddie groaned.

“That’s my good boy. You wanna swallow my cum?”

Steve nodded as his eyes met his own and with a few thrusts of Eddie’s hips, his head fell back as he released his spend down the man’s throat. After sharing a soft but passionate kiss, they turned their attention to you.

“Are you ok, babe? Do you need anything? Water?”

“Will you lay with me?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, of course.”

You didn’t even hesitate when you scoot to Eddie’s side and wrapped your arms around your stomach, placing your head on his chest. The last thing you remember is feeling warmth behind you and the sound of Steve’s steady breathing on your skin before you fell asleep.

***

“DID YOU SERIOUSLY THINK THERE WOULD BE NO CONSEQUENCES?!”

Your head shot up when you heard shouting in your living room. Eddie and Steve were missing but the voice you heard definitely wasn’t theirs. Quickly throwing on the officer’s shirt you listened as the voice continued.

“Did you really think you could come on to our territory, break into one of our stash houses, and kill a bunch of our guys?”

“I think the real question you should be asking is how easy it was for me and my guys to break in.”, Eddie responded angrily.

“Shut the fuck up, trailer trash! You think because you moved out here and took over Al’s business, you’re different but you aren’t. You’re still that garbage that he left behind with his brother before you suddenly decided you wanted in. Ah ah ah! Don’t make me shoot you, Steve. I have no problem killing a law man.”

“If you’re not here to kill us, Andrew, then what do you want?”, Steve spat.

Glancing quickly around the room, you realize his gun was still in its holster near your nightstand and as quietly as you could pulled it from its home. Tip toeing out into the hallway, you held it in front of you as you peaked around the corner.

The person you didn’t recognize had his back to you as he pointed his own pistol at Eddie and Steve who both had their hands raised where he could see them.

“Jason just wants Edward so we can make an example of him and what happens when you cross the Carvers.”

“I think you underestimate the Munsons, Andy.” Slowly, you creeped up behind him, praying he wouldn’t turn around. “Unfortunately for you, I’m not going anywhere. I hope Jason understands that this wasn’t a good move.”

“Yeah well, you can tell him yourself. Now come on or I will shoot him.”, Andrew threatens as he points his weapon Steve.

“Not if we shoot you first.”

At Eddie’s words, you cock the gun and pull the trigger.

##############

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thebibliosphere · 8 months

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I saw your post about ingram, and out of curiosity, is there some advantage to going through the whole self-publishing thing with retailers when you're just starting out? like I mean the way that fandom zines work is that they don't even bother going through ingram or amazon or whatever. they just set up a social media site (usually twitter) to gain followers, open preorders (usually 1-2 months in length) to generate the costs of printing upfront, and then sell anywhere from a few dozen to several hundred copies of their books (usually artbooks, but anthologies exist too). I've seen some zines generate over a thousand orders. they're kind of like pop-up shops, except for books. maybe the sales numbers aren't so impressive to a real author, but the profit generated is typically waaaay more than the $75+ apparently needed for Ingram Spark, so I still feel like new authors could benefit from this method too, especially if they just need some start-up cash to eventually move to ingram if they want to for subsequent runs of their book. I think authors would also have to set aside some of the pre-order money to buy an ISBN number to have printed on their book, and I'm not really sure what other differences there are, but I just wanted to ask about it in case there's some huge disadvantage I'm missing!

So, popup zines work well for some people, and I know some authors who kickstart their work successfully. But for a lot, it's just not feasible as a long-term stratedy. Or even as a means to get off the ground.

Fanzines succeed primarily because an existing fanbase is willing and ready to throw money at something they love. They’ve got a favorite writer or artist they want to support. Supporting all the others is just a happy by-product. They also take a HUGE amount of short-term but intense planning that just doesn’t always jive with how some of us work.

I, for one, would never offer to organize a fanzine. I’ll take part in them as a creator, but I’d rather throw myself off a cliff than subject myself to wrangling that many people and dealing with the legal logistics.

When it comes to authors doing anthologies, it'svery much the same. The success of the funding often hinges on having other big-name authors involved whose existing fans will prop up the project. Or having a huge marketing budget.

Most self-pub authors have zero marketing budget. I’m one of them, and I’m under no illusions that my work would not be as popular and self-sustaining as it is if I didn’t have a large Tumblr blog.

When I thank Tumblr in my forewards, I am utterly sincere. Tumblr brought fandom levels of enthusiasm to an unknown work and broke the Amazon algorithm so hard, that Amazon thought I was bot sniping my way to multiple #1 spots and froze my sales rankings.

That’s not the norm. And while I could probably kickstart my own work as an indie creator, that’s because I’ve put literal decades into building up a readership. I’ve been doing this since I was 16 and realized people thought I was funny. I didn’t know what to do with it or if I’d ever actually write anything, but it meant the groundwork was already there (thank you, past-me). I basically fell upward into my success by virtue of never being able to shut the fuck up and wanting to make people laugh. Clown instincts too strong.

New or first-time authors trying to sell their work without that will find it infinitely harder.

All of that aside, even if an unknown author somehow gets lucky and manages to fund their work, there’s still the question of shipping and distribution logistics. Are you shipping everything yourself? Better hope you’re able-bodied and have the time for it. (for reference, it took me months to ship out 300 patreon hardbacks because of my disabilites. It damaged my back and hands. I couldn’t type for several weeks after I was done.)

Are you going to sell primarily at conventions? Better hope you’re able-bodied, have the time and don’t have cripling anxiety about being in large groups...

Also, will selling a dozen to a few thousand copies in one burst be sustainable in the long run as a career? Not for me. Doing things via Ingram and Amazon means I earn a steady trickle of sales for the rest of my life provided the platforms remain and so long as I keep working and can generate interest in the series, not just when I have funds to pay for physical copies to sell. The one-time (in theory) cost of $75 to distribute through Ingram gets paid off pretty quick that way. And it doesn't require the same logistics as doing the popup/crowdfund.

Ultimately, it comes down to what you are capable of but also the type of work you’re doing. If you’ve got an extended network of fellow creatives who will back you or you’ve got a large following elsewhere, doing it like a popup might work for you.

If you’re an exhausted burnout who can’t fathom the short but intense amount of organization that sort of thing requires, not to mention doing it over and over and over... Ehhhhh. No thank you.

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chongoblog · 1 month

Text

A Moment: A Short Story

Simon had always heard about just how beautiful Zion Canyon was, especially from the end of the Angel’s Landing trail which lead to a breathtaking view over the canyon. Now that he was there, he knew in his heart that his 50 day hike was worth it. At least, he assumed that’s about how long it would have taken if time had moved a single second. The hardest part about stopping time for this long is that it was so easy to lose track of just how long it had been for him since time had moved. No clocks or watches to keep track. No day or night. It was just him wandering across the world within that one single moment.

But what a moment it was. He paused to drink in the view from the top of the trail, even if he had all the time in the world to do so. The sun was setting, bathing the wall of the canyon in a warm glow. The trees that peppered the canyon walls reached up to the orange sky, adding touches of life to the hard rock that made the gorgeous structure. In the bed of the canyon, life exploded with greater abundance, with thousands of trees and even a small town settled along the river.

While the view provided Simon a sense of peace, he felt something underneath his foot. His instincts led him to move his foot to see what had disturbed his tranquility, finding a pebble. He tried to kick it off of the steep cliff face to watch it fall, only to see the pebble remain completely unmoved. Frozen in time, just like everything else.

What good is stopping time if you can’t change anything?

The question lingered over his thoughts like a vengeful specter. This so-called “superpower” of his was a joke. When he had heard of people stopping time in movies and comics, it usually had more utility than this. The superheroes could use the time-stopping to move from one place to another instantaneously, or to perform long and arduous tasks in the blink of an eye, or even to play some kind of prank. Simon couldn’t do any of that. Everything was completely frozen in place, and time could not continue until Simon returned to where he had begun.

At least he had chosen a good moment to pause time, with the gorgeous sunset rewarding his efforts. His mother had always told him how amazing the view was from atop Angel’s Landing, since she once hiked this trail when she was his age.

He sat down atop the rock to take it all in. He had all the time in the world, after all.

—

Simon had been on plenty of nature hikes with his family when he was a child. While his father had passed away a few years ago, his mother continued to take him hiking in his stead. On almost every hike, she would say “Well the hike up is the tough part! Once you’ve seen the sights at the end, the hike back doesn’t even feel like a hike!” And while that was true for most hikes, walking all the way home from Utah to Boston still felt like a hike.

Just like the nature hikes, this trail known as “I-80” was full of wondrous sights, like the incredibly flat prairies that seemed to go on forever with nothing in sight except more highway and some power lines. However, in case he somehow got bored of stewing in his own thoughts, there were always gas stations. They weren’t exactly Niagara Falls in terms of majesty, but they were a break in the monotony, especially if he was lucky enough to catch them with the door open.

Somewhere in Iowa, he came across a cheap looking fuel stop with its door open, and decided to go check it out. After all, he had time.

The dim fluorescent lighting illuminated the small, cramped building. The fragrance of cheap corn dogs hit Simon’s nose like an unconvincing temptress, making him glad he didn’t have to eat to stay alive in frozen time. His eyes looked around to see what everyone was doing at this moment in time. The cashier was giving a customer change for a twenty, with Simon noticing that the cashier was accidentally giving the customer one too many dollar bills. The customer was paying for two bags of Funyuns, a bottle of grape soda, and a bottle of orange soda, all placed on the desk. Behind him was a young boy, who Simon couldn’t help but focus on. He was holding an ice cream cone, but the ice cream scoop was falling towards the floor.

Simon looked at the expression this kid wore on his face. It was a face of shock, surprise, pain, even grief that stared at the ice cream scoop as it fell victim to gravity. Obviously, this wasn’t going to ruin this kid’s life, but the look on the kid’s face at this precise moment told a different story. At this moment, the child felt more sorrow than could be put to words.

When Simon was walking to Zion Canyon, he had stopped here as well. He hated this child. Yes, it was a child, but someone feeling this much pain over something as trivial as ice cream sent him into a fit of rage.

Simon stared at the agony written on his face for a few minutes (or at least, a few minutes for him), and finally spoke for the first time that felt like months. “That sucks, what happened to your ice cream. I wish that I could use my power to stop this from happening to you. But I can’t.”

He crouched down, meeting the child at eye-level. “But it’s going to be okay. At this moment, you probably feel awful. But…time heals all wounds. Once I start time back up, your dad will probably offer to get you another one. Or at least, I hope he does. Until then, there’s nothing wrong with feelin’ bad over it. You just…can’t stay like that forever.”

After another few seconds, Simon sighed. “I gotta get back home. The sooner you get a new ice cream cone, the better.” He stood up, and left the store, continuing his long, long, long hike.

—

Simon was finally home. The world around him had been frozen for what felt like months, and yet Simon still felt the knot in his stomach swell as he approached Tonio’s Pizzeria. It was always his favorite restaurant, since they always melted the cheese in their cheesy crusts just right. He and his mom had just finished their meal celebrating his acceptance letter into UMass Boston. The delightfully tacky exterior flooded its multi-colored neon lights all across the few available parking spaces in front of the building. Unfortunately, Simon and his mother couldn’t find any available parking in the front. After fighting the knot in his stomach, he walked behind the pizzeria to where they had ended up parking their car.

Unlike the front of the pizzeria, the parking lot out back was shrouded in darkness of nighttime. There were only a few cars in the parking lot, but next to one of the cars was a familiar sight that still managed to freeze Simon in place.

There stood two people. A masked man with a gun, holding it towards his mother. In the air between the two of them was a single bullet, directed straight for his mother’s head.

Before he had embarked on his expedition out west, Simon had spent a long time in this parking lot. He lost count of how many times he had tried to do something. He had tried moving the bullet. He had tried moving his mother. He had tried picking up something to throw at the bullet. He had tried punching and kicking the masked man. He had even tried moving himself between the bullet and his mother and resuming time. But nothing had worked. Everything had been set in stone, with Simon meant to stand right next to his mother.

Simon took a few deep breaths, knowing what he had to do. If he didn’t, that kid would be crying over his ice cream forever, now wouldn’t he? Every step felt heavy as he made his way into the correct position. He could hardly bear to look at his mother’s face one last time. It was a face that he could never forget. One stricken with shock and fear, but with an unmistakable look of acceptance.

“You were right, mom. Zion Canyon was…incredible.”

And so, Simon resumed time once more.

#writing #short story #i hope you guys enjoy it #its an idea thats been in my head for a minute

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cheolism · 1 year

Text

his reward

➳ boo seungkwan x reader

➳ summary: after a long day, seungkwan decides to seek relief between your legs

➳ wc is approx 4.3k

➳ warnings/tags: minors do not interact. idol au. dom! seungkwan, service top! seungkwan, bottom! reader. pet names (baby, angel, good baby, good angel)(kwannie). mentions of video game-typical violence. oral (bsk giving), fingering, praise. pussy drunk seungkwan. spitting. face-riding. masturbation & cumming on body. intentional lowercase

➳ request: "no rush but it would be great if u could write something abt dom seungkwan cause there’s a drought of seungkwan fics esp dom ones . . ."

➳ note: i tried to fit dom! kwannie, and i hope this was what u wanted plus still fits and suits him!! thank u for the request, and i hope it fulfills what u wanted !!!! <333

night had fallen on the city, the only light in your bedroom coming from the streetlight directly across your apartment building and the television. you had long tuned out the show you had put on, eyes narrowed in on your phone.

the shower squeaked, drawing your attention away from your pubg game for just a moment. you listened as the shower door squeaked as it slid open, signaling the end of seungkwan’s shower.

then there was a sound of a bomb from your game, and your eyes were back on it. you and seungcheol made your way around the building, crouching, your eyes on the horizon.

“still playing that game?”

you hummed in response, eyes darting up. seungkwan was running a towel over his hair, wrapped tight in a bathrobe. your bathrobe, to be honest, but the two of you had long dropped any attempts at organizing your wardrobes. especially after an incident where you wore a hoodie to meet with soonyoung and jeonghan at a grill, only for seungkwan to turn around and wear the same hoodie the next morning to a group practice.

the robe, due to it being yours, was short on him. while it went to your calves, on seungkwan it brushed against the back of his knees. the fluffy sleeves revealed his fine wrists, seemingly framing them as if they were a masterpiece, drawing all your attention to the way he held his hands, the way his long fingers tousled his hair back and away from his face.

“we’re gonna beat wonwoo for good,” you returned, looking back at your game. seungcheol’s character hopped into a jeep, the border that surrounded the map closing in. you quickly followed, letting him drive away. “we got mingyu right away.”

seungkwan snorted, turning and going back into the bathroom. “good. that jerk needs to be knocked down a few pegs.”

you grinned a little, biting down on your lip. feeling warm, you kicked off the comforter. you had already taken off your pants for the night, leaving them at a heap at the bottom of the bed. the weather had taken a turn for the better, to the point where you could now open the windows during nighttime, letting a gentle breeze fill the room.

seungcheol drove the jeep next to a cliff. you both jumped out of the vehicle, spinning your characters around to try and see if you spotted any enemies.

you shifted, setting your feet flat on the bed and raising your knees up.

there was a gunshot in the game and both you and seungcheol were turning towards it. you began firing in the general direction, offering a distraction for seungcheol to get the chance to snipe the enemy.

the bathroom sink turned on and off. seungkwan began singing, his sweet voice filling the apartment and making your heart flutter a little.

he always sang with such power, always commanding the stage. so you treasured the moments where he sang in his lower register, his voice sweet and honey-smooth, full of sincerity and making you feel as if you were the only person in the world.

the approaching enemy defeated, you and seungcheol turned back to watching the horizon for more enemies.

a sharp gust of cool spring wind filled the room, making your curtains flutter and your body shiver. you could feel the cold air against your clothed cunt. you stuck one of your feet back underneath the blanket, tempted to grab it and cover yourself again.

seungkwan continued to sing as you and seungcheol shot down another enemy, the lovely lyrics to one of the group’s ballads filling your ears. absentmindedly you began to sing along, albeit quieter than seungkwan. while you constantly boasted your boyfriend’s many, many talents, you were conscious where yours were lacking.

you didn’t notice when seungkwan stopped singing, your own voice carrying on the tune. it wasn’t until the bed shifted, his weight displacing it, did you stop and glance up.

seungkwan was watching you, eyes sharp. his hair was still damp, sticking up at odd places. his face was slightly red from his skincare routine, and you could smell his orange blossom lotion.

“kwannie?” you looked back down at your phone. you and seungcheol ducked into a house, the faint song of gunfire disrupting the overwise quiet bedroom. “why’d you stop singing?”

your boyfriend sighed deeply. you steered your character onto the roof of the building, laying flat on the top and watching as two enemies neared it.

“today was really stressful,” seungkwan began in that coy voice of his that told you that your boyfriend had something in mind. so you stayed quiet, eyes still on the roaming players. “it was long and never-ending. but i endured it.”

you grinned a little, glancing up at seungkwan. he was looking at you still, body turned completely towards you. you dropped your legs, letting them splay out, knees against the sheets. “it’s hard sometimes to tolerate days like that,” you agreed, wiggling your toes. “i’m proud of you for sticking through it.”

“thank you,” seungkwan said, moving. you could see the figure of his body as he stalked up the bed, nearing you. “i think i deserve a special something for enduring it. don’t you?”

you nodded, shooting down one of the players as they tried to walk up the stairwell that led to your roof. “you do! do you wanna go to the cafe tomorrow? that little one that has the bread shaped like fruit?”

seungkwan hummed, one of his hands settling on your foot. he tapped his finger against your foot thoughtfully. “that’d be good, baby. but i was thinking about a reward more accessible, something i can have now.”

“we can have some of that frozen yogurt in the freezer,” you suggested absentmindedly. seungcheol’s character walked up the stairs, jumping for you to follow. “i think it goes bad in a week anyways.”

“frozen yogurt does sound good,” seungkwan drawled out. he wrapped both of his hands around your ankles, clenching slightly. “but i was thinking about something even better than that.”

brow furrowing, you glanced up at your boyfriend in confusion. you didn’t keep many treats in the apartment, finding that one of your boyfriend’s groupmates would sneak in at some point and eat all of them before you could even have a first.

seungkwan liked it when you did his nails, liked it when you pampered him. maybe that’s what he wanted?

then a sly grin overtook seungkwan’s features, his eyes getting an impish glint. before you could question him he was yanking your ankles, pulling you flat on the bed.

you squealed out his name in shock, phone dropping on your chest. you could hear gunfire from your game.

seungkwan wedged open your legs, shouldering his way between them. he grabbed your phone, turning off the sound before he exited the game and tossed your phone down the bed.

“seungkwan!” you gasped, eyes wide. you and seungcheol were in the top five and wonwoo was still alive and you still had to get him -- what on earth was seungkwan doing? seungcheol was going to be so pissed, wonwoo was going to win, and the two of you would have to endure another week of wonwoo silently teasing you. “what are you doing?!”

“having my special something,” seungkwan replied, hooking his arms around your thighs and pressing them to the bed, baring your pussy. seungkwan pressed forward, shoving his face into your clothed cunt.

you were mortified, even moreso when you could feel seungkwan take a deep, shuddering breath against your cunt, breathing it in. he nosed against it, your cunt shamefully clenching and fluttering in response.

you could practically feel the heat pool in your cunt and turn into fluid, could feel as it leaked out of your hole and stained your underwear.

“that’s it,” seungkwan murmured, taking another deep breath as your arousal soaked your panties. he hummed a little, pressing his closed lips to your cunt. you could feel the vibrations of his mouth through your panties, your toes and fingers curling in response.

“getting so wet for me already,” he said, pressing a closed-mouthed kiss over your cunt. you let out a gasp, your hand coming up and muffling the tail end of the noise. if you couldn’t control the way your cunt acted, couldn’t control the fluid that gushed from it as if you were at a damn waterpark just from your boyfriend sniffing it, then at least you could try and be quiet.

“kwannie,” you breathed out, still keeping your mouth trapped behind your hand. “what are you doing --”

“my reward for being good,” seungkwan responded, burying his nose into your cunt again. all he was doing was smelling it like some sort of depraved man, as if the two of you didn’t have sex multiple times a week, as if he had been waiting all day just for the chance to smell your cunt.

“how --” you broke off, closing your eyes and throwing your head back. you counted to five in an attempt to gather yourself. “how, seungkwan, is smelling my -- how is this a reward?”

“your pussy smells so good, baby,” he murmured, angling his head. he brushed his nose against your clit, and even though you still had your underwear on, the sensation sent a jolt through you. “i think about it all the time, you know. your pussy, how it feels around my cock. how it feels around my finger, how it tastes. fuck, how your cunt tastes.”

then seungkwan’s tongue was running up your cunt, from the bottom to your clit, sticking your underwear against your pussy. you couldn’t help the loud moan that left you, nor could you help how your back arched up into the air in response.

“just stay there,” seungkwan said, pulling back. his hands went to the ties of your robe, pulling them undone and shrugging it off. seungkwan pushed it off the bed with one hand, the fingers of his other hand going to your cunt. he dipped his fingers around the fabric, letting his nails brush over the warmth of your cunt. “just sit still, baby. please? let me take my reward.”

you shot him a look, fingers flexing on the sheets. “kwannie --”

“please,” he whined, making his way back between your legs. he tugged at your underwear, pulling it lopsided. “lemme taste your cunt, baby. been thinking about it all day, been thinking about it since i woke up. please let me eat your cunt.”

your heart stopped, mouth dropping open at the frankness in his voice and in his words. seungkwan pressed forward, his mouth kissing your cunt through your underwear once more.

“okay,” you gasped, hand shooting out to still him. “okay. just. just let me taking them off before --”

“before i rip them?” seungkwan finished, the mischievous smile on his face so at odds with his normal personality. he looked smug, watching as you slowly brought one of your legs up towards your chest, hooking your fingers through your underwear and guiding them down. “good baby,” he praised, eyes intently watching as you revealed your cunt. “good baby.”

seungkwan moved up to his knees again, coming to rest beside you on the bed. he cocked his head at you when you were still, patting his chest. “well? are you going to sit on my face or not?”

slowly, more aware of the way your pussy juices were leaking out and onto your thighs at a constant rate, you moved your way up the bed. you straddled his chest, standing on your knees to reach up for the headboard.

seungkwan’s hands settled on your hips, guiding you up the rest of the way to stand over his face. he maneuvered you to how he wanted you, and when you could feel his warm breath against your bare cunt you couldn’t help the little moan that escaped you.

“that’s a good angel,” he praised you, voice low. he lowered you until you were properly sitting on him.

“kwannie,” you sighed, nails lightly scratching into the wood of the headboard. “don’t -- don’t get carried away, okay? remember, two taps if you can’t breathe.”

“i remember, angel,” he murmured. his fingers pressed into your skin, his touch lighting you aflame. you’ve begun to wonder when his imprints would finally sink in, when his fingerprints and hand-shape would leave a permanent mark on you. it was so often, after all, that seungkwan was touching some part of you, as if he wanted to leave his touch branded on your skin.

seungwkan nudged his nose against your clit. immediately your muscles were tightening, your hips bucking up a little. seungkwan chuckled against you, and you could feel his arms flex against you as he tightened his hold around your middle, keeping you seated on his face.

seungkwan ran his tongue along your cunt in one long broad stripe, the slurp that accompanied the action so lewd that it made your toes curl and nails dig into the headboard. he dug his nose into your cunt, next to your clit; his chin bumped against your cunt as he shoved his tongue inside of you, gathering your juices and sucking them.

“kwannie,” you moaned, squeezing your eyes shut. he ran the flat of his tongue over your hole, causing a wild shiver to wreck your body. “seungkwan, seungkwan.”

your boyfriend responded by wrapping his lips around your hole and sucking, causing your cunt to clench and your back to arch. helplessly you grinded down, subconsciously seeking relief; seungkwan, ever the giver, provided, shoving his tongue back inside of you.

seungkwan ate you out like a man parched, sucking your juices into his mouth and reverently searching for more. he ate you like a glutton, seemingly never filled, his tongue rolling along and inside your cunt endlessly, never relenting.

your hips were constantly moving, rolling down onto his face. seungkwan’s nose kept bumping against your clit, every nudge causing your nerves to jump and your body to sink further on top of him, seeking out the electricity that only seungkwan seemed to be able to provide.

his arms relaxed for a moment, moving to hook around your thighs. seungkwan shifted you up and off of him. you glanced down.

your boyfriend was absolutely covered in your cunt juices, from his nose to his chin. his face was a deep red form the effort he was putting into devouring you, lips gleaming and puffy. seungkwan’s eyes were dilated, trained on your pussy still. he brought one of his hands to his face, wiping at his nose.

his fingers came away covered in your juices. seungkwan hummed, sticking them into his mouth and suckling.

“seungkwan,” you groaned, brow furrowing. you released your hold on the headboard to reach down and tug at his hand, drawing it from his mouth with a crude pop. “don’t. ‘s dirty.”

“no more dirty than eating out your pussy, baby,” he replied. nonetheless seungkwan hook his arms back around your thighs, squeezing as he tried to coax you back into sitting on him. “i’m not done, angel. sit back down.”

slowly you returned to your -- in seungkwan’s opinion -- rightful spot. immediately his mouth was on your cunt again, acting as if your hole was your mouth, kissing it and making out with it. he was worshiping your pussy, eating from it, ravishing it.

seungkwan moved his arm from around you, his fingers skimming down the curve of your ass. he slid his hand between your body and his face, fingers poking at your hole.

you couldn’t help the loud moan of approval that left you, nor could you help the way you immediately grinded down on his fingers. he slipped one inside your hole, and you were quickly overcome with the feeling of hunger.

you clenched down on his fingers, searching for some sort of relief from this famine that was coursing through you. his name was a mantra, your chants filling the room as his finger filled your cunt.

“‘nother, kwan,” you gasped, lifting yourself off of his face and dropping back down on his finger. you repeated this, hips searching for something to satisfy your craving. “please, kwannie, another.”

seungkwan hummed against you, his lips busy mouthing at your clit. for a moment nothing happened, his tongue rolling over your clit and slurping at your pussy juices.

then his second finger slipped in beside his first. you moaned, quickly moving so his fingers pressed against your core. seungkwan began curling his two fingers inside of you in tandem with the movement of his tongue on your clit, trying to coax you into an orgasm.

but you were hungry now, and it would take more than just two of his fingers and tongue to satiate you.

“more, kwannie,” you begged, bracing yourself on the headboard. you continued to move your hips along the length of his fingers, your cunt so wet that they practically glided. “another, kwannie. another, another, please.”

seungkwan the arm wrapped around you to lift you, shifting his hand beneath you, then he hooked three of his fingers against your hole, tugging, and you couldn’t help the cry that escaped you.

“that’s it,” he praised, pulling you back down so his nose was bumping along your pussy. “that’s a good angel.”

your whole body seemed focused on your cunt, concentrating on these points of contact between you and your boyfriend. you couldn’t think anything other than him, couldn’t sense the headboard you were grabbing or the blankets beneath your knees. you could only feel his fingers sliding along your walls, pressing down on your core, his tongue flicking at your clit.

then seungkwan adjusted, moving and wrapping his mouth around your clit. he sucked once, twice, three times, your loud moans music to his ears, and you were collapsing against the headboard, body sagging as your orgasm finished.

seungkwan tapped your thighs, reminding you that he was still beneath you. you shifted, moving throwing out your leg so you were no longer straddling him. you leaned back against the headboard, eyes squeezed shut, chest heaving as you fought to catch your breath.

a dirty popping noise had you opening your eyes. seungkwan was perched on his knees in front of you, his erection red and straining against his stomach. he was wiping his face with his hand, pressing his fingers into his mouth and sucking your juices off of his digits.

you watched, weary, as your boyfriend noticed your gaze and stopped sucking. a slow little grin overtook his face, and then he was grabbing you.

seungkwan pulled you flat against the bed, wrenching open your thighs. you gasped, eyes wide, as seungkwan pressed himself back between your legs. “seungkwan, what are you --”

“‘m not done yet, angel,” he promised, pressing his face back into your cunt. he immediately latched his mouth around your hole, suckling and tonguing.

still sensitive from your orgasm, your back arched and your legs flail about. seungkwan growled against your cunt, wrapping his arms around your thighs and pressing them down to the bed.

“be still, baby,” he said, his mouth pressing against your pussy, his every word sinking into you. your cunt gushed around him in response, and his tongue quickly began lapping up your juices.

you couldn’t do anything other than toss against him, body wriggling as overstimulation set in. you were aware of the blankets twisting around your body, of how your hands were constantly scrambling against them in an attempt to get some sort of hold. you were aware of how his tongue plunged into you rapidly, how his fingers flexed against your thighs and pressed into them, tattooing his mark onto your skin.

seungkwan lifted his head from your cunt. he was drenched once more. he ran his tongue around his mouth, gathering your slick. you watched as he swallowed your juices, watched as his throat worked.

then he leaned back over your cunt, pursing his lips. a wad of spit dropped from his mouth to your pussy, mixing with your juices.

your eyes flew shut and you threw your head back, the image of your boyfriend spitting on your cunt replaying. the way his bangs obscured his eyes, how his lips, red and puffy from his devotion to your pussy, curled before he spat.

his hands went to your body, kneading into your thighs. seungkwan’s mouth pressed a kiss to your stomach and then he was trailing a path of kisses down, lips gentle as he returned to your cunt.

seungkwan pressed more spit from his mouth to your cunt, using the wetness to slide three of his fingers back in. your body accepted them greedily, and it was only a matter of time before another orgasm washed over you, his fingers eagerly drawing it out.

you couldn’t do much more than lay there as seungkwan pressed a final kiss to your clit, your body jerking in response. he sat up, leaning back. seungkwan reached between your thighs and gathered your slick on his hand. he then wrapped his hand around his leaking dick, hissing at the contact.

even though you were exhausted, you couldn’t help but watch as seungkwan jerked himself off. he pressed his lips together, trying to muffle his moans, trying to keep his climax at bay.

you splayed your legs. “kwannie,” you called, beckoning. “here.”

seungkwan shuffled to kneel between your thighs. he collected more of your juices and returned his hand to his dick. seungkwan then pressed his other hand next to you, using it to guide his body down so he could rest his stomach on your breasts. you wrapped your arms around him, holding him, fingers playing with his hair.

you didn’t see it when he came, but you felt it. his entire body stiffened save for his hand, which was working furiously over his dick. seungkwan’s moans and groans were loud, just as loud as yours were.

when he was done, seungkwan pressed a kiss to your chest and pulled away. his cum had joined yours between your thighs, thick white stripes painting your skin and the blanket between.

seungkwan laughed breathlessly, his hands skimming over your thighs. “angel, your cunt --”

“no more,” you begged, flinging your head back against the bed. seungkwan’s laughter was loud this time, and he pitched forward to press a kiss to your throat. “seungkwan, you’ve wrung me dry, i swear.”

“we both know that’s a lie,” he chuckled, kisses chaste against your skin. “but i’ll ignore it for tonight.”

seungkwan settled into your hold, your skin sweaty and sticking to his. you were content like that for a few moments, holding your boyfriend, brushing his hair back away from his face and gazing into his honey-sweet eyes.

“i love you,” you murmured, hand holding his cheek.

“i love you, angel,” he returned, turning and pressing a kiss into your palm.

seungkwan’s phone ringing pierced the air, and your boyfriend was muffling a whine into your body. you laughed, pushing him away. “better go answer that, kwannie.”

seungkwan sighed, flopping to the side. the phone stopped its ringing, only to pick up again. he swung himself off of the bed, movement sluggish as he crossed into the bathroom. you watched his legs as he walked, watched them flex; your eyes then caught sight of his ass, and immediately you felt your mouth water.

“fuck,” seungkwan’s curse brought you out of your daydream. you went to your elbows, concerned. he exited the bathroom, eyes wide and frantic, phone still ringing. “it’s seungcheol! he’s worried because you aren’t picking up your phone and you quit the game suddenly and he texted and said he’s on his way and he’s going to take one look at us and know!”

you sat up completely, wincing at the mess between your thighs. “know what? that you’re some pussy hungry demon?”

seungkwan flew about the room, grabbing the discarded towel he had used for his hair. he went about drying off his body, trying to get as much sweat off of himself as possible. “this isn’t funny, y/n! holy shit, fuck, fuck, fuck --”

“i’ll get dressed --”

“no!” he whirled on you, pushing you back onto the bed. “you look like -- well you look like you’ve just been fucked. you just stay here and pretend you’re not here.”

“ah, yes,” you began dryly. seungkwan hurried to the closet, grabbing a pair of sweatpants and hurriedly pulling them on. he stumbled a big, falling against the wall. “i’m totally not in my apartment that i signed the lease on at ten at night.”

“you’ve got it!” seungkwan praised. he launched himself across the bed, reaching out for you and pressing a kiss to your lips.

then someone -- seungcheol -- was knocking at the apartment door, and seungkwan flew off of you. he fell of the bed, the noise loud and thunderous.

he was out of the bedroom in a flash, his feet slapping against the hard floors as he ran for the door. you could hear him, his voice high and frantic and not at all concerning, as he greeted seungcheol.

you could hear seungcheol’s voice, as deep as it was, all the way from your bedroom. “is everything okay, seungkwan? i was playing with y/n and suddenly they disappeared. i tried getting a hold of them, but there’s no answer from their phone.”

“ah!” seungkwan shouted, voice shrill. “they’re just uh -- they fell down the stairs and dropped their phone and it smashed!”

well, you thought, flopping back on the bed, you could either have a boyfriend who gave amazing head, or you could have a boyfriend who was a good liar. you couldn’t have both.

#svthub #my writing #svt #seventeen #seungkwan #boo seungkwan #svt x reader #svt oneshot #svt fic #seveteen x reader #seventeen oneshot #seventeen fic #seungkwan x reader #seungkwan fic #seungkwan oneshot #boo seungkwan x reader #boo seungkwan fic #boo seungkwan oneshot

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hannigramislife · 7 months

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You all ever think about how Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian's brotherhood truly died in that cliff?

Meaning even if they reconciled post-canon, even if all is forgiven and forgotten, they can never have that brotherhood again. Never.

Funny thing, isn't it? Time. It waits for no one. It robs of more than just years, especially when you're a cultivator, and those years hardly affect your lifespan.

Jiang Cheng is a whole Sect Leader now, one who raised his clan out of the ashes. Wei Wuxian is mentally still, what, 20 something?? The war for him is still fresh, the loss of Yanli still fresh. Wei Wuxian still hasn't processed that stuff, meanwhile Jiang Cheng has raised Yanli's son, and now he's a Sect Leader, too.

Time has passed, for Jiang Cheng. He has grown hard, and he has grown bitter because he needed to survive, but he has grown. He is no longer Wei Wuxian's little brother- Wei Wuxian is younger than him. Jiang Cheng can't respond to Wei Wuxian's teasing like before, and he can't depend on him because there is an entire sect that depends on Jiang Cheng. And Wei Wuxian- a large part of his identity as an older brother, to him, is being the strong pillar, the protector- what to do now that Jiang Cheng doesn't need that anymore?

How can they understand each other now? What is left for them, but memories?

They can build something new, true. But the people they were before, the bond they had before-

That's gone for good.

#the untamed #mdzs #jiang cheng #jiang wanyin #wei wuxian #wei ying #mo dao zu shi #twin prides of yunmeng #yunmeng bros #yunmeng shuangjie

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ranticore · 2 months

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Two shortwing rival academics and a lil bit about spire culture

The East North Spire (or honestly just 'Spire', people will know what you mean) is the most densely populated location on the planet. It consists of the remains of one of the largest old telecommunications spires on a cliff. The sea around here is shallow and dense with reedbeds which can be used to make building material. Wood (or an alien equivalent) doesn't exist on Siren so reeds make up most permanent and impermanent structures, as well as providing the pulp with which to make paper and the extremely light reedsilk clothing that harpies wear.

Being surrounded by abundant natural resources as well as being an area with relatively mixed water year-round, so good fishing opportunities, the spire was an obvious choice to build on. The structure of the spire is made of woven reed platforms and silk tents attached to the main trunk, but over the years it has grown immensely wide and complex. People might liken its appearance to a giant multicoloured tree if they knew what a tree was. The structure extends down the cliff-face all the way to the water, where it expands into a dense network of docks and pontoons which has become something of a globlal shipping hub.

The spire is mostly famous for its strict occupation-based culture and honorifics system, which I originally scribbled down on a drawing of Qedivar and Terwy in ramble form, but it's important to understand that these names are cultural and geographical so not limited to harpies.

This is the first pass of the naming system so it's likely outdated lol.

Anyway what started as a collection of craft guilds at the spire transformed over centuries into the world's only institute of higher learning. It is mostly a gigantic and deeply bureaucratic university, the headmaster of which is the highest authority in the entire city.

The culture at the spire is loud. Open debate, arguments, and outright fights are encouraged as a way to clear the air and avoid any simmering tension building up between aggrieved parties. Holding a grudge is considered physically bad for your health, worse than any consequences of a heated debate or quick scuffle (drawing blood is where this acceptance of fighting ends, however). The population density is ludicrous, especially in the shortwing bowers where you'd be lucky to have a wingspan's worth of space to yourself, so it's in their best interests to become very good at managing conflict as early as possible. There is no concept of romantic relationships as a separate phenomenon to platonic relationships here and the potential for gigantic nightmarish polycules to develop is almost guaranteed, but a comparatively small societal weight is placed on sex and intimacy, it's just a thing you do with your friends and that's about it, you won't get any institution of marriage though it is possible (rare) for a pair to be exclusive.

There are no blood ties or familial bonds among inhabitants of the spire. There are differing gestation periods & nurseries based on body type, but among the shortwings, who are the most numerous and have very short gestation periods, nursery duty is pretty much like jury duty. Everybody gets called out to the nursery every couple of years to do early infant care, once the birthing parent is no longer needed (at time of weaning usually). The infants are communally raised and when they're old enough to learn they get shuffled immediately off to school where they will remain until age 12 or so when they pick their main topic of study, or a craft apprenticeship. Then their fellow students or guild masters are considered to be their true families.

The culture is frequently xenophobic against basically everyone else; it's got Big City disease where everyone living outside may as well not exist, and other places are far less important. Particular negative consideration is given to people from the Western continent who are thought of as just inherently dumber for not having any great institutions of learning, with the notable exception of the visored harpies. There's also a strongly ableist element in the spire, those not considered smart enough or not fit enough to work a craft are practically second class citizens.

Qedivar and Amivar (-var suffix indicating a scholar working on a theory) share a bower, they're on-again-off-again frenemies due to the fact that the two of them are working on very different theories on the origin of people. Amivar has proposed a theory of evolution, which is partially wrong where the humans are concerned (as they were intentionally designed but have experienced natural selection since) and correct for all other life on Siren (which did evolve), and Qedivar believes the Precursors were similar to gods who magicked the entire planet into being and then populated it with distinct groups of people. Both theories have some merit but really all they've achieved is endless debates and fights, until a particularly harsh defeat at Qedivar's grant application causes our pal Qedivar to decide to set out to prove his theory right by any means necessary, with a budget of almost zero.

While Qedivar travels to the Western continent to learn the heretical truth (which is that he was wrong and they're all just Human aliens), Amivar stays behind. He continues his work, but when the ministry of knowledge at the spire comes knocking to demand to know Qedivar's whereabouts, he's faced with a tough choice - sell Qedivar out and reveal his location, thus potentially getting a really nice research grant in return for his evolution theory which has proven very unpopular, or cover for him and, in doing so, implicitly accept the unacceptable truth of what his colleague has uncovered. I had a lot of fun thinking over Amivar and his actions in these circumstances, in a situation where where so much hinges on pride and self-advocacy... a look at the guy who has to stay behind and deal with the consequences of someone else's grand adventure (as well as the ministry of knowledge threatening to disappear him).

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sheeple · 7 months

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Miracles don't exist | 21: Bliss

Genre(s): Riddle!reader / Slytherin!reader / kinda slowburn / little happy moments Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Theodore Nott x Reader / Harry Potter x Riddle!reader Summary: Being the Dark Lord's daughter and raised under the strict supervision of the Malfoy's is no easy life. Especially if you start crushing on your father's arch-nemesis, Harry Potter. And that while being engaged to one of his follower’s sons. Warning(s): Who's ready for another year of how knows what! A/n: Because it's my birthday today and I'm turning 21, I'm posting chapter 21 a couple days early! Whoop whoop! And as a bonus, chapter 22 will be posted this Sunday :) [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist] [Playlist]

A laugh bubbles from eight-year-old you as you get chased by Draco with a frog around a tree. Draco and you just secretly finished a Muggle story named The Princess and The Frog. The both of you did it secretly, in the furthermost corner of the attic.

When Draco, later on, spotted a frog hopping around, he grabbed it and now he is chasing you. Draco sees what you're doing and cuts around the tree. He manages to corner you and press the slimy creature in your face.

"Now you kiss it. Go on, cousin! Kiss your prince!" He has a bright smile on his face, one of his front teeth missing.

Suddenly, a loud and thunderous voice makes Draco drop the poor creature and both of you tense up. "DRACO! Y/N! What did I tell you?" Uncle Lucius comes storming out of the manor, his nostrils flared.

"Children should be seen, not heard", the two of you say in unison, eyes cast to the ground.

He gives the two of you one last stern look before returning back inside, slamming the door behind him. You and Draco look at each other before giggling and running off again to play with something else.

"Are you coming?"

Your attention gets pulled from the memory that seems so long ago. You shift your gaze from a miserable-looking Draco across Platform 9¾ to Theodore's outstretched hand. He gives you a reassuring smile and you nod. He pulls you into one of the floo network fireplaces at calls out a destination you're not familiar with. When you emerge, you're in a small cottage-like building with a couple of benches.

"We don't have our fireplace connected to the Floo network because-Father and I haven't been here since... Mother died."

It makes you look at the dark-haired boy with wide eyes. "We don't have to... We- we can stay anywhere else. I'm sure if- I can ask Sirius nicely to stay with him?" Unknowingly, you've grabbed his wrist to stop him from traversing up the hill along a dirt road.

He smiles at you softly, laying a hand on your cheek and kissing the top of your head. "I've had many happy memories here and I want to make even more with you."

Theo leaves you speechless while you follow after him. Your hand still secured in his, you stumble upon crumbled ruins on the edge of a cliff that drops into the sea. What once was a stately home is now nothing more than outer walls and the foundation of the main building.

You turn towards Theo with raises eyebrows, asking wordlessly if he is sure this is it. He laughs and shakes his head.

"The magic makes it look old and rundown, keeps the Muggles away. But if you tap your wand against this stone like...", Theo fetches his wand from the inside pocket of his coat and taps twice against a non-distinct stone, the crumbling stones transform.

A gasp leaves your lips as a beautiful land house with a sprawling garden is in place of the ruins. Theo smiles as he leads you towards the double doors, your luggage already stacked neatly in the entrance.

The house is dark with wooden flooring and black wallpaper, but it's not creepy or stuffy. It's homey. It feels like home.

Theo leads you through the entirety of the house — the kitchen with the giant cauldron, a cramped dining room with more stuff to look at than eyes, the living room with a large fireplace and comfy chairs and couch where you see yourself spending your time with a good book, and the multi-floor tower that hosts a small library and home office.

"And at last", begins Theo as he swings open a door to a bedroom, "your sleeping quarters, madam." A large bed and a wardrobe fill the majority of the space. Under a wide window is a chaise in the perfect spot in the sun.

"My room is over there." He points to the door directly across from your bedroom.

Something inside of you slightly deflates. You didn't expect anything, but you've hoped to... share a bed with Theo. Why, you don't know. But you just assumed.

"Great", you say with a smile, it not quite reaching your eyes, "I'll unpack and see what we can do about dinner."

And when you've done so, you discover that there is only a loaf of mouldy, sagged-into-a-pile bread. Which isn't that weird as the house has been inhabited for many years. You give Theo a look of disgust and the two of you decide to make the short walk to the town.

It's a fairly sized town, getting most of its money from fishing. It has multiple shops, pubs and a supermarket. There is even a small brasserie going on in the town's square. You excitedly hit Theo's arm and point towards the stalls.

"When we've done our groceries, we'll go", he promises with a smile.

He pushes the shopping cart as he lets you lead around the supermarket. The two of you discuss back and forth about necessities and dinner plans for the foreseeable future and when you have to go back into town to replenish the groceries.

"Most food is probably good for a week- not counting the canned soups and frozen food", you argue, standing on the other end of the cart and holding onto the metal. "And if we do it every week, we can spread out the money better."

Theo purses his lips, scratching his forehead. With a huff, he agrees, "I guess you're right."

You giggle and lean forward. "I'm always right."

The dark-haired boy shakes his head with a shake of his head and the two of you resume your way through the supermarket. He watches as you smile and make small talk with the cashier, something about staying just outside the village for the summer.

"I wonder sometimes why you weren't placed in Hufflepuff", says Theo as you and he walk over the small market in the town's square. He insists on carrying the grocery bag but he sort of regrets it as the weight of it starts to hurt his fingers.

"Because I'm the heir of Slytherin. My great grandfather many times removed ghost would personally strangle the Sorting Hat if that did happen." You casually wave the thought away as you browse over the contents of a stall.

"But you're so... nice."

That makes you laugh. "Slytherin's are nice."

Theo turns towards you, his eyes sad. "You're nice. The lot of us are just a bunch of twats. You've got every reason to be the most awful of them all. But, here you are, the embodiment of a good person."

His words make heat creep up your neck and your cheeks burn bright. You meet his eyes and you look away quickly.

"You're not so bad yourself."

You bury your toes in the sand as you sit on the small privet beach. The air smells deliciously like salt and the sun dances on your shoulders. Theo is diving around, his feed peeking out from the water. When he comes up again he holds up a big rock proudly.

"That's a very pretty rock, Theo!", you call out with a teasing smile on your face.

He flips his hair out of his face as he walks towards you. "Are you patronizing me?", he asks in faux hurt.

You sit up straighter and hold up a hand to shield your eyes from the sun, looking up a Theo. "What? No! It is a really pretty rock!"

You laugh as he drops the rock — next to the others he has fished out of the sea — and leans over you to shake the water out of his hair. You squeal and hold up both hands to protect yourself from the cold seawater.

Theo grabs your middle and pulls you off the towel, towards the sea. You squirm in his hold, crying out in laughter as his cold chest presses against your back. The two of you laugh and scream as he chases you around.

He manages to catch you when you fall on the ground, Theo on top of you. Your chests heave as the both of you smile and giggle. He reaches out a hand to brush against your cheek, cupping it.

Everything slows down as he lowers his head, his eyes fluttering close. Your hands rest on his shoulders. You blink slowly and just as you want to press your lips against his, a figure appears in the corner of your eye.

You turn your head to the side and your eyes grow wide. "Aunt Cissy?"

Taglist (bold if I couldn't tag you): @the0doreslover @lqndkxlmqma @st4rrry @choppedpartymuffinwinner @ledtassoo @literallyobessed @lestat-whore @vanishingcherry @harrysnovia @pietrobae @ireallywannasleep127 @yeolsbubbles @fruityfrog505 @fluffybunnyu @theroyalmanatee @shinrjj @hegdus @kermits-bitch @m1kasawps @noah-uhhh-what @mypolicemanharryyy @fals3-g0d @decapitated-coffee @thatgirljas13 @slytherinambitious @mythicalamphitrite @mastermindmiko

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agendabymooner · 10 months

Text

closure ! max v. x ofc (hearth sister!ofc)

“it wasn't right—the way it all went down. looks like you know that now.”

summary: sylvie just wanted to prove that she was good enough for the red bull racing team, but everything that had to do with her history with max seemed to get in the way of her determination— and she made sure that he knew that.

content warning: panic attack (and its triggers), use of explicit language, mentions of absent father figure, j*s verst*ppen 🤢, christian horner, frenemies to lovers (ish), confrontational text messages (max and sylvie), max being oblivious to her mental state, mentions of max’s childhood (not detailed)

note: as someone who struggled to find peace at certain situations, I know what it’s like to struggle in asking for help. please remember that there are people that are more than willing to give you the support that you need.

(i may not be able to update any of the smau works for the next two weeks as i am out of town and i only have my ipad with me. i normally do the layouts on my computer. i’ll try my best!)

enjoy xx

masterlist

2016 Spanish GP

If fate worked like this all the time, she might as well jump off the cliff if any of her peers asked for it.

She had been pulled out of her lectures for the week only for her to sit and watch how the racing teams operated. She could only roll her eyes when Christian Horner recommended she should have her presence be known in the paddock and the track as she prepared to work in an F1 team.

Sylvie already knew how everything worked; she was going to be a driver, for fuck’s sake. She had been trained for it. She grew up attending the race weekends because of her father and grandparents. She knew everything now. Hell, she even had Toto Wolff for an in-law (practically). He could just rerun everything to her if she needed to remember.

Christian Horner clearly had a different intention towards her visit. He claimed that she needed to relive the experiences in the garage, the media pit and the hospitality. But she knew the truth.

She had a rapport, her history in the academy was obviously discussed to Christian at some point. How Christian never mentioned anything about her departure from the program to her sister, who now held parts of Red Bull and the other two teams, she never had an answer for. It wasn’t a secret to most. At least to those who were there the day she left.

Tilly was in the Mercedes area, leaving her little sister in the Red Bull hospitality as she listened to nothing. She felt so alone and isolated, her urge to go to Mercedes was overwhelming. But it wasn’t as if she could; Christian had already told her off about her role and position in the company.

It didn’t help that Max Verstappen, donning his number 33 shirt, was in the same building. He was quite adamant on keeping her company but she constantly avoided him, slipping out of his sight as soon as his eyes settled on her.

She found excuses, most of which had something to do with Daniel Ricciardo. The Australian hadn’t minded though, knowing that she felt uncomfortable being around other people especially around Max. Daniel never minded her excuses, instead making up a lie that’s believable to others. Just so she could escape.

Max’s family was there that weekend. Obviously, she knew his mother and Victoria, his sister. Max and Sylvie, the two 18 year olds, were practically soul twins. Born on the same day, grew up together, and had been attached to the hips since the day they could crawl— they were friends, no one just knew what had happened. His mother had always asked Sylvie’s mum about her and how she’d managed to let her friendship with Max dissipate like that. Victoria missed having Sylvie over for tea whenever she visited the Netherlands, asking Max about what he had done to let Sylvie go like that.

Jos Verstappen was a different story. He never liked Sylvie, only holding a certain amount of respect for Julius Hearth and Blanche Ford Hearth. He always wanted Max to be successful at motorsport and this meant that nobody could be as equally good as his son. Not especially when Max’s ability matched Sylvie’s. He always claimed that hanging out with “that girl” will simply distract Max.

Even if he nodded at his father’s direction, Max continued to be friends with Sylvie, spending more time together whenever she and her family would fly and meet with his family.

At the ripe age of 12, Max admitted to her that she’s the closest thing that he had to an imaginary friend. Like he was forced to grow up before he could even walk. She was the one who would pull up the PlayStation whenever he failed to please his father for the tournament of that time. Jos never liked her, but he didn’t know exactly what could’ve made him dislike her. Sylvie didn’t like him, either, because she couldn’t believe that she was the one who’d have to give Max the childhood that he deserved. There are times when she wished she could simply spew out the foulest words and lump him with her own father. Well… she had already considered him a shitty father, and there’s no changing of opinion now.

So for Sylvie to see Jos in the paddock, basically keeping his eye on his son like a pestering hawk? Yeah, she turned away from their direction.

Then another group of people came, the same arrogant smile all over their faces. They taunted her.

She could remember her last week at the academy, when she had enough. These boys questioned her abilities on the track as soon as she started, trying to get her to quit as soon as she could. She didn’t care about them, because whenever they’d race she remained on the top of their level. They hated her because of it. Then on her last day, she was left to be called a name that didn’t even fit her…

“Snake Sylvie!” Matt Bauer was what she called Max’s bitch. He never liked Sylvie and had always wanted to be in Max’s family’s good graces. Alongside him were Max’s two other friends. These three were the same incompetent fucks who never ended in Formula 2. Thus, ending their racing careers early. They were doing fuck knows what these days. Which was quite hilarious, if you were to ask Sylvie, because they were the ones who kept telling Max to “Keep working” or “toughen up and get the first place.”

She couldn’t remember their names when she met them again that weekend, her eyes were already blurry from the tears as she shoved her way through them. “Where are you going?! We’re just going to catch up, babe!”

She didn’t even stop, her feet speeding up as she attempted to wipe her tears away. Her lips let out a stutter of excuse me as she pushed her way into where the Mercedes garage was.

Second free practice didn’t start anytime soon and Sylvie was thankful for that. It, however, never stopped the camera by the engineering station from capturing the sounds of a sobbing girl and an image of her nearly soaked Red Bull shirt as she ran inside. Had she been stronger than this, she wouldn’t have ran to Toto.

As if he knew someone was coming his way, Toto Wolff immediately took his headphones off and turned. His face etched with worry as Sylvie wrapped her arms around his broad figure. She was hysterically sobbing and shaking, her tears almost soaking his white shirt as she kept her head tucked in his chest.

“Can we stop the camera? There’s an obvious situation going on in here and we need a moment,” Sylvie couldn’t hear his voice as it was something more of a rumbling noise. Meanwhile Toto’s stern expression made the cameraman do as he was told. “Hey, schwester, are you okay?”

She was relentless, sobbing as she kept her head down and her arms tightly wrapped around him. She couldn’t speak. Not breathe for that matter. It felt like the last day of the academy all over again. Having no voice felt like she was just as defenseless once more.

“Sylvie, do you want me to take you to your hospitality?” Her bloodshot red eyes, still tearing up, stared into his dark ones as her lips quivered and her head shook left and right. “Do you want your sister?”

Toto knew that the Mercedes hospitality was nearer to the Red Bull area than the Mercedes garage. So for her to go this far just for comfort… something told him that she didn’t want to stress out the pregnant woman and that she needed more than her sister.

He pursed his lips, feeling helpless as he kept an arm around her shoulder as they walked out of the garage. He nodded at his engineers as if he was letting them know about leaving for a moment.

He did his best at comforting her. Rubbed her back, shushing her quietly and gently leading her to the hospitality. People outdoors had gotten a glimpse of her situation and began to speculate, which forced her to hide her face once more as Toto glared at them.

“Come on, schatzi,” inside nobody had batted an eye on her. And instead of speculating, certain people merely looked at the two with concern. What the hell happened, they probably asked themselves.

She was too busy crying and hiding her face away that she hadn’t realized Tilly was already approaching the two. Sylvie didn’t look up until she heard, “What happened, bello?”

“She came to the garage,” Toto said quietly, looking down at his in-law with concern as he said, “she couldn’t say anything because she’s having a hard time breathing.”

“Oh, lovie,” Tilly whispered empathetically, her delicate figure reaching out to hug her little sister, “I’m sorry to hear that. Come, let’s sit down, yes?”

Sylvie could barely think throughout the process of moving from one place to another. They reached the Mercedes motorhome and found themselves in a private room, Sylvie’s lips were swollen and her tear-stained cheeks were red.

She wasn’t even aware that Toto left until his tall figure returned with two bottles of water in his hands. He simply placed it down on the empty table and exchanged looks with his girlfriend. They couldn’t even find a way to help her out of this.

“Listen, Sylvie,” the girl’s sobbing subsided for a moment as Toto said, “I will come back. Okay? I will check and make sure that you’re alright, but I have to go.”

“Yes, go,” Tilly nodded at him, “I’ll be here. Thank you for taking her to me, mon amour.”

“Alright, I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Toto murmured as he leaned down and pecked Tilly’s lips. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” Tilly smiled ruefully, her eyes trained on her little sister as Toto moved to stand and hug Sylvie. Sylvie could only hug his waist, not wanting to let go but had done so anyway.

“Take some time to breathe, lovie,” Toto said for the last time before he left hesitantly.

Nobody but the two were inside the motorhome, thankfully. Sylvie would be so embarrassed to cry in front of other people— as she had done so ten minutes ago. The silence was interrupted by Sylvie’s sobbing. Tilly couldn’t help but wrap her arm around Sylvie’s shoulders, trying to occupy as much space as a pregnant woman could. God, this was the only thing that she didn’t like about her pregnancy. She wasn’t able to comfort her sisters or anyone as much as she’d like to do.

The model couldn’t even think or try to let out a single word, only crying in her sister’s arms as she listened to her shushing. It didn’t take long until the tears dried up. Her energy drained from crying too much over some fuckers who couldn’t even make it to the podium. Them, and that one person would be able to do that on Sunday.

With exhaustion washing over her, her sniffles turned into something more silent as she shut her eyes. It didn’t take long for Tilly to notice this as she stood up, giving more space to the girl on the couch. “Get some rest, lovie,” Tilly said quietly, brushing Sylvie’s hair away as the girl drifted off to sleep.

She really didn’t like being here in Spain.

—

Argument just outside the motorhome was what had woken her up. It was normal to have frustrated drivers or team principals throw a bitch fit, but hearing an argument was a different story.

Her eyes stung from opening after her post-crying nap, her feet meeting the floor as she popped the lid of the bottle open, her parched body taking in the water that she swallowed.

She liked eavesdropping, she really did. She liked to provide her own input even if it’s not needed— she was nosey and everyone knew that. But what she had gone through just about an hour or so ago made her lose the energy and motivation to be her usual self.

It didn’t stop her from walking closer to the door and listening in to whatever argument was going on.

“She’s here to observe and work, she’s not here to spectate,” that was Christian Horner.

“But she’s not feeling well, Christian, she has to rest,” now that’s her favourite in-law. Not really in-law.

“Look, I get that you’re looking out for her but you have to understand,” Christian hissed, “she’ll be signing with Red Bull as soon as she graduates. I cannot have her working with the team if you’re constantly mollycoddling her just because you’re the closest that she has to a father figure. This is a professional work setting, Toto, and she needs to be disciplined to be a part of it.”

“Disciplined, in what way?” The sternness on Toto’s voice could kill, unless you’re just as stupid as Christian as Sylvie heard a scoff coming out of the Red Bull team principal’s mouth.

“Everybody’s going through tough times,” Christian said, “so what? Most of us are moving along anyways. Don’t treat her like a child and make exemptions. She’s never going to learn how to toughen up from it.”

“Hey!” Another voice rung out as the door opened slightly, making her step back as she heard an exclamation of, “That girl was distressed after she left your area— the place where she’s supposed to feel comfortable working in. It’s not her responsibility to bear the problems that are clearly happening within the area of your control, so don’t you tell us how to accommodate if you can barely take care of it. Alright?”

“Fuckin’ prick,” the door slammed shut as Sylvie’s figure remained frozen, her eyes watching as they met Lewis’ dark ones. He smiled gently and asked, “Hey. Are you feeling better now, sweetheart?”

She didn’t respond for a moment after she heard Toto say, “Just give it a rest. She’ll work on what she has to do, just let it go for now. Speak to Tilly, if you would like.”

“Don’t worry about them,” Lewis pulled her back to the couch and sat with her. He leaned back as he joked, “Lovers’ quarrel is what’s going on between the two.”

She chuckled quietly, unable to keep her facade. The laughter fell eventually as she muttered, “I didn’t mean to create such a scene. I’m sorry.”

“What? Hey, girl, no,” Lewis felt his heart break at her words as he reached and rubbed her shoulder for comfort. “Don’t be sorry for snapping. It’s brave of you to keep it together in the first place.”

“I really didn’t mean to make a big deal out of it,” her voice cracked as she tried not to cry. Thinking about it was exhausting and saddening. “It’s just— there’s—“

“It’s okay, take a deep breath,” Lewis told her softly. She did as she was told. Many would say that it’s a rare thing to happen but Sylvie listened.

“There’s just people,” Sylvie explained quietly, not looking at Lewis as she murmured, “I haven’t seen them for a while and… I felt so uneasy. Like it’s the final nail in the coffin. I didn’t want to make a big deal because it was at Red Bull. Nobody’s in there. Toto, you and Tilly are in Mercedes.”

“Sorry we couldn’t be there,” Lewis told her sympathetically. “But it’s a good idea that you went to the garage as quickly as you did. Now look, even Christian’s facing Toto’s wrath.”

“I don’t want to think about it anymore,” Sylvie whispered shakily, shutting her eyes close as she sighed, “I just want some closure.”

The next few days were dreadful. She hadn’t wanted to go back to England as much as she did that weekend.

The people she never wanted to see were there. The sad part of it was the fact that Max would continue to be a part of her life and job, whether she liked it or not. She’d have to tolerate him, no matter how much shit she had gone through because of him and those people around him. This was the second time she had seen him and felt so angry. It was like her life was a race. It starts out very well, with her at the pole. But then she crashes the moment she tries to take advantage and overtake.

On Sunday, Max landed in P1. Sylvie watched him pop the cork of the Moet out and showered his fellow podium winners with it. The text that she then received and sent spilled everything that had nothing to do with champagne. But rather explained how she ended up leaving the academy after that damn open tournament four years ago.

Max complains a lot, he could admit, but he never felt so guilty as much as he did when he practically berated her through a series of text messages. He always demanded answers to things that he believed had explanations, and he wouldn’t stop until he got it. But sometimes he wished his relentless demands were silenced by his conscience.

He felt extremely guilty and upset. It wasn’t because Sylvie Hearth refused to give in to his demands, but rather because her answers explained her hatred and anger. It wasn’t just any anger. It was an ounce of hatred and a lot of anger directed towards him.

Because really, he was the reason why Sylvie never turned out to be the first woman to become a Formula One driver. She never got the seat in Red Bull Racing and Max had gotten it instead. Now he understood why she would refuse to speak to or look at him as if they were childhood best friends and act like they were strangers.

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tennessoui · 7 months

Note

I'm begging on my hands and knees for more Twilight au, and those are words I never thought I'd say! Anakin being able to resist compulsion, and Obi-Wan seeming instantly obsessed, and poor Shmi! Pretty please 🥺🙏

hey!! sure! here's some more!

(2.5k)

Having a sheriff for a mom sucked a lot when he was a kid growing up in a small town. There was probably nothing Anakin was rebelling against more at eleven, at thirteen, at seventeen than the rule of law his mother represented.

All things considered, she was pretty good at separating her home life from her worklife. It was Anakin who was bad at respecting the separation, Anakin who couldn’t keep son out of delinquent. There’s only so many times he could be pulled out of wreckage and bars and buildings with Keep Out No Trespassing signs on them before he got The Sheriff at home and out in public.

He’d hated it growing up and had come to grudgingly respect it later and in fits and starts. His dad dying had, terribly and ironically, helped a lot. His mother had had a stroke just before and then Anakin had been faced with the possibility of being an orphan, and the terror of that had mellowed him out.

Sorta.

He still hates a lot of things about his mother’s job. Especially the fact that she’s the sheriff of a very small town.

And when people talk, she listens.

The thing about small towns is that everyone’s always fucking talking. And other people are always fucking lsitening so they can talk later. One big fucking community, which means when Anakin comes home from his weird doctor’s appointment with Dr. Kenobi, a few hours later because he took a detour biking along the edge of the seaside cliffs just to spit in the good doctor’s metaphorical face, Shmi Skywalker already knows more than Anakin ever planned to tell her.

Like, for instance, “Sheila says that Dr. Kenobi thought it would behoove you to spend some time at the local library volunteering.”

Anakin pauses, backpack half-slung off his shoulders. He hangs his stuff up slowly, careful to keep his tone very light. “Did Sheila say what I told him after he said that?”

His mom’s silence is very loud.

“I don’t want to do i—”

“I asked the new librarian about it on my way home from the station. She thinks it’s a wonderful idea. Apparently we used to have a program like that in the forties but it died out during the war.”

“Mom, come on—”

“It’ll look good on resumes, saying you created and supported a local reading program.”

“Yeah, but I’m a bit too old to be applying for babysitting positio—”

“It’ll look good for me as well,” Shmi says in her sheriff voice. “Elections are coming up soon. It’ll be good, if my kid was involved in the community.”

Anakin’s glad that his back is still turned to the living room, where his mom is sitting. “Are you gonna run again?” he asks, paying special attention to his tone this time.

“Why wouldn’t I?” his mom replies. “I’ve been sheriff for a decade and a half.”

Anakin lets his eyes fall closed for a second, knowing that his face can’t be seen. This is how they end up half the time: Shmi’s ardent belief that she is invincible, going up against Anakin’s desperate desire for her to be so.

And they just don’t talk about it. As if they’re actually in agreement.

He knows how this is going to shake out.

“Do you have any plans tomorrow?” His mother asks.

Anakin’s eyes remain closed. “I guess so,” he says.

—--------

Mrs. Kenobi—call me Satine—is sort of scary up close. She’s tall. She glides between bookshelves. Anakin’s never met someone who glides before. And she’s so intensely, incredibly, blindingly perfect that Anakin would rather be anywhere but in her vicinity. There’s something incredibly unnerving about the symmetry of her face, the sharpness of her cheekbones. She’s obviously an absolute knock-out, just drop-dead gorgeous, but it makes Anakin’s skin crawl and his heart beat fast, but not in a good way or a normal teenage boy way.

Anakin tries to keep the unease off his face as Satine leads him through a tour of the library, a gentle hand on his forearm. That’s another thing Anakin doesn’t really like. She’s wearing satin gloves. He doesn’t know anyone who wears gloves anymore.

It’s just all a bit…unsettling.

“I put in a few words around the school yesterday afternoon,” Satine tells him. They pass by the mystery section, the fantasy section, and take a hard right into the young adult section. The shelves are smaller here, and Anakin feels rather stupidly gigantic as he and Satine walk through them. “To some parents picking their children up after school. They agreed it would be good exposure to bring them to the library for an hour or so of reading before supper.”

Anakin highly doubts it will be, but Satine hasn’t really asked him.

She sweeps past his figure and pushes open a pair of double doors with a flourish better suited for a Russian tsarina hosting an elaborate ball than a small town librarian showing off a small, cramped, and dusty room filled with padded seats and threadbare rugs.

And then, as if she has been waiting to put the last nail in the proverbial coffin, Satine adds, “A few students from the local high school will be here as well.”

“Sorry,” Anakin says, “are you saying I’m going to be reading to high school students? Can’t they do that themselves?”

After all, Anakin went to high school here. Academics hadn’t been too rigorously challenging, but they’d taught the fucking basics.

Satine raises one perfectly plucked eyebrow in his direction. “They’ll be volunteering as well.”

Oh. Right.

“It looks good on their college applications,” Satine waves a hand through the air and the words linger there. Anakin looks out the rather dirty window, jaw clenching. “I’ve already chosen a handful of books I think the young ones will enjoy.”

Anakin, committed to his fate, pads over to the titles placed carefully ontop of a short, stout side table.

“Peter the Rabbit,” he reads off the top. “Peter Pan. Alice in Wonderland. Treasure Island. The Prince and the Pauper—look, you’re the librarian here, but don’t you have anything written this century maybe? Harry Potter, even.”

“These are classics,” Satine tells him, her nose raised into the air as if she has encountered something particularly foul-smelling. She turns away, presumably to return to the front desk so she can welcome half the fucking town inside the library so Anakin can read them fucking Anne of Green Gables and become a better person.

“These are fucking boring,” he mutters to himself, flicking the cover of the first book, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz open. Publication date: 1900. “I’d rather be in Kenobi’s office getting lectured at.”

There’s a sharp noise of disapproval from the doorway, and Anakin’s head snaps up to see the tail end of a very heated look from the librarian before the door closes behind her.

He shivers, alone in the emply room, and it takes several long minutes for his heart to settle back into its normal pace.

—----------

After the fourth kid sneezes, Anakin closes his book with a snap and stands from the very small chair they’ve got him sitting on. “Come on,” he tells the cluster of children he’s been assigned to. “We’re getting out of here.”

“Are you kidnapping us?” One of them, a snot-nosed kid who’d started the sneezing says, rubbing at her cheek beneath her glasses. “Cause mommy says that’s not allowed.”

“I’m not kidnapping you,” Anakin snaps back, barely holding in his natural follow-up to the sentence which is of course, I don’t want to be around any of you in the first place. “Also, just for future reference, you shouldn’t ask if someone’s kidnapping you after you already start following them.”

The girl scowls and reaches up her hand to hold onto Anakin’s.

For the love of Christ.

“We’re just going to go into the main part of the library,” Anakin tells his children, all six of them. “They have windows out there.”

They have windows out there and they also have parents. Parents who absolutely should be doing other things with their lives and precious hour of extra freetime.

Parents who are clustered instead around the library’s front desk as the town’s newest librarian holds court.

“Is reading time over?” one of the kids asks him, turning his head to look up at Anakin.

Anakin thinks about it. “Do you want reading time to be over?”

The kid thinks about it back. “Yeah,” he decides. “You don’t do the voices good.”

“It’s a boring book,” Anakin tells the kid. “Voices aren’t going to make it better.”

“Voices always make it better,” another kid says. “They make everything better.”

“Oh look,” Anakin says. “Is that your father?”

He gestures vaguely towards the cluster of drooling middle-aged somethings focused on Satine.

The kid peeks around his thigh and then shakes his head. “No,” he says. “That’s Dr. Obi.”

“Dr. Obi!” The kid holding Anakin’s hand says, and she lets go.

Anakin gets a bad feeling about this, a feeling that only doubles when he turns around to see Dr. Kenobi sauntering towards him, hands tucked into the pockets of a long dark jacket that makes him look even more pale than he already is.

He scowls automatically as the man gets closer. “Dr. Obi.”

Dr. Kenobi spares him a look that’s far too amused for Anakin’s pleasure before he crouches down to the level of the kids. “Hello there, young ones,” he says, opening his arms to accept a hug from the traitor of a girl Anakin’s just spent thirty minutes reading to. “Are you eating all your vegetables? Even the brussel sprouts?”

“I like brussel sprouts,” one of the kids reports sounding proud, and that starts a cacophony of opinions about brussel sprouts from all around Anakin.

“Wow! One of mine just absolutely hates them,” Dr. Kenobi says. “She refuses to eat them, so you’re very brave, Michele.” He lets go of the girl and turns his golden-brown gaze up to Anakin. “And what does Mr. Skywalker think?” he asks, raising a hand for Anakin to take. It’s very obvious he’s asking for a hand up and Anakin is obeying before he thinks about it. He snatches his hand free almost too soon, but Dr. Kenobi doesn’t even have the grace to lose his balance and fall over.

His hand is like ice in Anakin’s, and Anakin stuffs his fingers into the pocket of his jacket automatically a second later.

“Do brussel sprouts help with circulation?” he’s biting out before he can stop himself. “Cause you may need some then.”

Kenobi’s head tilts very slightly to the side as his eyes catch and hold onto Anakin’s. “Oh?” he asks lightly.

“You’re cold,” is all Anakin mutters in return. He swipes his other hand against the back of his neck. “”S poor circlutation, isn’t it? Something in your diet maybe?” Dr. Kenobi blinks at him and then breaks into a wide smile. “I can assure my diet is very…circulation-mindful,” he says. “Blood health positive.”

Anakin’s mouth thins into a line. He guesses that’s what he gets for trying to give health advice to a doctor, especially a doctor like Kenobi who just so happens to be devastatingly attractive and also smart.

And also an asshole. And also married.

Speaking of which. “Are you here to fend off your wife’s admirers with a scalpel?” Kenobi’s eyebrows raise. “Young ones,” he turns his head away from Anakin, down to the children.

The strangest feeling breaks of Anakin the second Kenobi looks away, almost as if a strange pressure he hadn’t even realized had been building was suddenly dissolved.

The very small beginnings of a headache begin to thrum in his temples.

“Young ones, it’s time to find your parents, isn’t it?” Kenobi says, and like fucking magic, the crowd of six children around Anakin disperse, children swarming away from him towards the group of adults surrounding the front desk.

“Can you teach me how to do that?” Anakin blurts out, even though he’d meant to ignore Kenobi now that he doesn’t have to make nice in front of small kids. Not that he was really making nice in the first place. But now he definitely doesn’t have to.

Kenobi gives him a half-smile, eyes heavy-lidded. “It’s a special sort of skill that takes, above all else, much practice.”

Anakin scowls. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Does Kenobi think he can’t commit himself to something even as mundane as a fucking commanding persona? Does he think he doesn’t have it in him to be–-

Kenobi’s eyebrows go up again. “Has anyone ever told you that you are exceedingly defensive?”

“You’re extremely nosey,” Anakin snaps back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t you have better things to focus on right now anyway?”

He gestures loosely towards Satine, who has started playing with one of the mother’s bracelets as the other woman stands and looks at her rather dumbfounded.

Kenobi follows his gaze and then lets out a huff of laughter. “Satine can take care of herself,” he says, even though it hadn’t really been Satine that Anakin was worried about.

He’s about to open his mouth to say so when Kenobi turns back to him. His eyes are piercing, a dark, captivating sort of gold.

“Do you find my wife beautiful, Anakin?” he asks.

Anakin blinks. His headache is getting worse, which is probably down to what can only be a trick-question fashioned to look like a grenade lobbed at his feet. “I don’t think there’s a good answer to that,” he mutters, rubbing absently at his forehead. “What the fuck.”

“An honest answer is a good one,” Kenobi says lightly. “Tell me honestly.”

The words feel pulled from Anakin’s stomach, and he’s opening his mouth before he realizes it. “No,” he says.

Kenobi’s eyebrows crinkle together. “No?”

Anakin curses his stupid impulse control. “She’s beautiful,” he adds quickly. “Really. But…it makes me uncomfortable.”

Kenobi’s lips purse, and then there’s something like disappointment in his eyes as he examines Anakin. “Ah yes,” he murmurs. “I’ve been told my wife can make countless young men feel rather uncomfortable. It’s normal in men your age, Anakin. Sexual ar—”

“Uncanny,” Anakin blurts out. He doesn’t mean to, but he also doesn’t want to listen to Kenobi trying to lecture him on fucking arousal in the public library. When it’s not even relevant. “She’s so beautiful, it’s uncanny.”

“Uncanny.”

“Yeah, like. Monstrous.”

Kenobi’s mouth falls open, pink lips parted in what looks like honest surprise.

Anakin’s own eyes widen as it hits him that he’s just called Kenobi’s wife a monster to Kenobi’s face.

“Shit,” he says. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m going to go.”

He throws a look at Kenobi, whose eyes are lit with something a lot like interest and then across the library to where Satine’s head is turned, cocked, and eyebrows up high on her forehead, as if she’s just heard everything he’s said.

He decides rather immediately that he’s going to take the backdoor exit.

#asks #twilight au #obikin #a couple of things:#all the books mentioned are published before 1920 because satine was probably a young mother around that time #imo she became a vampire during ww1 #brussel sprouts tasted very bitter in the 60s through the 90s before we tweaked how they were grown genetics wise #so kids used to hate them and one of the vampires in obi-wan's coven was a kid during the 60s so has strong memories of brussel sprouts #being awful #satine's special vampire power is her beauty which is like double that of the normal enthralling/alluring/perfect predator beauty #so anakin's own sort of immunity to vampire powers a la bella means he just finds it unnerving and uncanny #but he did fall prey to obi-wans mind trick at the end there because the immunity thing i think would be something he has to practice #to get strong at #so his immunity kicked in at satine's beauty and it didn't affect him #but he couldn't also effectively protect himself from obi-wan's mind compulsion #to tell the truth #because systems overloaded

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xinyuehui · 1 month

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I don't know if I want to write a massive essay about this, but they missed the whole point with all the characters, especially Ye Wenjie. I'm assuming everyone who said this portrayal is accurate and a raging angry Ye Wenjie is good is because they either never read the book, or non-Chinese, or both. (Or maybe projecting their own views on Maoism). Ye Wenjie received higher education during a time period where it wasn't common for women. She believed in science, she believed in people, but time and time again, the people in her life let her down and never showed any signs of remorse. What I've gathered from the text is that she isn't fuelled by rage, more so she is dead on the inside, she has lost all hope in people. Her decision to reply is not because she wants to destroy, she believes that a civilisation from a higher standpoint could save humans, and this roots in the fact that she is educated. She's not some crazy rage driving women who would ever say "time is a motherfucker", not even a Chinese equivalent.

I'm not sure why the writers decided to write Ye Wenjie and Yang Weining's relationships out of the story...Oh so she is rescued by a white man later on hmm??? (Coincidentally, all the characters driving the plot are also non-Chinese in this). Ye Wenjie marrying Yang Weining and giving birth to Yang Dong gave her a glimpse of light in the life from which she had lost hope. Spending time in Qijiatun also gave her a bit of warmth. When she pushed Yang Weining off the cliff, it marked another significant point, she was calm, cut the rope with no hesitation. She did not care to get herself entangled in romantic affairs. Making her have a child with Evans is laughable. They also dumb down Yang Weining, to the extent that Ye Wenjie had to explain 43+8=51 to him. Mind you, he was a real proper engineer. (Weirdly with all the diversifying, they did not keep a single male Chinese scientist in the main team huh)

Anyways, before I go on a tangent. The writers have fast tracked everything and left out the finer text about the characters in the book. I'm not sure if they missed the point or that nowadays the audience are ruined by fast media, something like the tencent version are simply too slow for the people in the west. Any of my moots and followers who watch cdramas will know that the real good stuff is all in the build-up. It's all the little text that adds up to a fleshed out character. If the culture difference is too much for Netflix, leading them to change all the characters and most of the plot, why not just buy a western ip. There's plenty of good western sci-fi ips.

I can't help but think they want to do this because they wanted to film the scene where Ye Zhetai is beaten to death. Have an excuse to turn Ye Wenjie an angry woman. We all know why. If they really cared about showing a true China during that time, they would have spend some care with the Red Coast details as mentioned above (we did not have screens in 1960s that display Chinese text!!! And definitely no simplified Chinese characters on computers!!!!). Instead of having her snog Bai Mulin off - unrealistic since people were a lot more conserved back then, they would not have done this and it's ooc for Ye Wenjie. Falling in love with Evans - a real blasphemy. I guess the 3 Body Problem here means 3 bodies pounding at each other. Jin-Raj-Will also seem to have their own 3 body problem going on too.

(One last tangent) Ye Wenjie and Yang Dong(Vera) as scientists not believing in god but having monks at her funeral ??????????? Not even a typical normal Chinese funeral will have monks. The stereotype enforcing is real.

#okay i did say im not writing a massive essay in sentence 1 but i got carried away #3 body problem #three body #also changing the game to a mongol background - as if it isnt obv enough what they are trying to do #i cant help but to think that this adaption being bad is what they intended #typical viewer will not care to read the original they'll pass this as bad chinese media and leave a bad impression on china overall

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bluetooththereptile · 2 years

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Unwelcomed embrace

Yandere super family x neglected reader

( English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes in the following text.)

Note: Well since apprently you guys enjoy reading angst and neglect related fics,I've thought of making one for super family! If you guys like it there's the chance of making another part for this one as well!

Summary: As a not so hostile hero you are trying to find your place amongst other heros, but apprently going to higher rankes needs a veteran's support, but you are alone, and it's the reason why your wishes will be turned down. This makes you to lash out and start an storm that shakes your whole life!

Tw: mentions of past abuse and neglect and anger issues

"For God's sake Bart, can you stop babbling for a second?" You snapped at the flash boy, making him close his jaw quickly, looking away. Kaldur arched his brow at you, you were more snappy than usual, there must have been something in your mind that was bothering you, he knew something was wrong but didn't acknowledge it, pressing further would have resulted in an angrier you and a huge mess, he didn’t want that, especially now that you were in the justice palace.

You tapped your feet nervously as you tried to listen to the conversation going on in the meeting room, but the advanced technology on its walls muffled every sound and this made your mood even worse, making you furrow your brows deeply as you scowled, every second that passed more people around you stepped away, not wanting to get involved in your ranting. As a hero, you were known for your problematic anger issues, and if it wasn't for your efficient way of working and powers, you wouldn't be in the league at all, "We need protectors, not warriors!" Batman once had yelled at you when you had thrown a whole truck filled with criminals down the cliff, thankfully superman was there to take the truck, speaking of superman...he was in the meeting room as well, making you even more anxious, something told you that your hopes were going to be put down.

You took in a deep breath, trying to not think about negative things too much, you were going to become a superhero, there wouldn't be anything against that right? Minus those numerous records of destruction and disobedience of course. But there wouldn't be a problem if a veteran took you in, looking after you for a while so you wouldn't make more problems, but that was where your real concerns laid, none of them liked you. Your reputation as the illegitimate child of superman didn't help you that much, your mother's infamous deeds rubbed off his good name and presented you as a threat, your behavior didn't help much, for a person that was into plants you were too angry, always expecting something from the world you were born into by Poison Ivy, aka, your sweet mother.

She was so sweet that she left you behind, putting you in Superman's arms as a "gift". But Clark was already building up his own family, dating Lios Lane...he couldn't have a child out of nowhere from a "forced" affair pop into his life and ruin everything. You were not wanted by anyone, and your life seemed pointless at the age of just 11 days old. Clark couldn't let you go through the normal adoption process, no normal family would take a half Kryptonian, half magical nymph into their home, so he decided to give his green child a chance, he decided to let Lois know about you, so she could take care of you, but what a young busy woman without any experience with babies can do with a baby that has special powers? The whole thing was doomed to end in disaster.

At just 6 months old, finally, Clark gave you up for adoption services, you were not made to be in his family, your constant screams, crying, and need for attention annoyed the couple, but now that you thought about it, apparently Lois did not like to have the child of another woman in a crib, next to her bed, you were proof of her lover's affair and she didn't like that at all, and Clark, he was ashamed of having you around for obvious reasons. So you were given up, like a piece of furniture. Months later, When Lois's job crisis ended, she'd come to her senses, it was not your fault that you were born that way, but it was too late...you were given to a family already. But Clark could come and take you away! But he didn't.

It was nice, at least for some years, that your parents kept up with you, knowing your situation. Your mother loved plants and you would pop a rose for her daily, to see her smile, and her smile brightened your small heart. Your father, a strict but kind man, loved his wife, and seeing her happy made him feel good as well, so you, the reason for her happiness, were precious to him. Until the day your mother died in an accident, and your father went into depression. His friends introduced him to liquor and well...let's just say it didn't end in something good. Your anxiety and anger issues were the results of your father's abuse. It turned so bad that you left home at the age of 15, flying away to find your real father.

You were smart, you could see your powers were familiar with someone else's, superman, that was why you decided on following him around, only to find out his true identity, and where he lived. But it was not like how you had imagined, your real father, Clark, had a son of his own now, and his family seemed so happy, you felt by showing up you'd ruin their happiness, but you decided on knocking on the door in the end, you couldn't deny yourself, you needed love and happiness as well!

But you were not greeted warmly. "Tell that woman I don't want to do anything with her!" Clark said as he pushed you away from the door frame so Lois couldn't see you. "B-but my mother is dead!" You said, now shivering, your green skin not showing how pale you were, your foster father was a scary man, but the man of steel was much more terrifying. Clark didn't believe you, he had been manipulated before, and a teenager was not going to fool him again. So you have pushed away, now being on your own.

Life was not easy on you at all. That was why you decided to become a hero so you could be great, so you could be heard and seen, you saw all of those magazines and headlines of superheroes, and you wanted to be like them, you wanted to be loved again, but the world was not going to show it's a good side to you.

The door of the meeting room opened, and members of the justice league walked out one by one, you tried your best to not jump in and ask about the result, looking desperately to batman as he walked toward you and other members of the young justice league. "The chosen one this time will be Red Robin." Tim smiled in disbelief as others cheered for him, but you felt as if your whole world crashed down on you. What? After all of that effort, you had put into getting close to wonder woman now this was what you were getting?

You approached Diana "This is not what we had made a deal on!" You said not so calmly "You are not ready." Diana said, making you groan "I've passed every damned test you had set up for me...now you are telling me I am not ready?" Diana sighed "You have to work on your anger management Y/N, your record is not clear enough!" You scoffed "It's not that! You all just want me to stay in the lower league to use me!" You yelled, now getting everyone's attention "You are all just a bunch of pricks that care about your friendships more than people's worth! Red Robin was chosen because he's Bateman's son, no one wants to have me here!"

"Come on Y/N, don't whine like little kids!" Conner said, making you glare at him "You shut up clone!" You insulted him, now saying what was in your mind for a long time, Conner's existence angered you to no end, Clark had taken his clone in, but not you! Why? He even had taken in a piece of dumb meat named Bizzaro and not you! Why? WHY? The question circled in your mind as your eyes found superman, who was looking at the whole ordeal with a worried look. Since the time you had joined in, he always was worried, he now could see the errors of what he had done, but it was too late...too late.

You punched Conner in the face, still not having the courage to attack Clark himself, so you took it upon his son's anger making you see red. Conner attacked you as well and soon you two were a bloody mess, punching each other, Conner was taken back by your friends as you were put down with help of Diana and Bruce. "You are suspended Y/N!" Bruce said "I don't fucking care!" You hissed, the taste of your blood on your tongue, as you were taken away, your powers suppressed with the use of kryptonate.

.....

"What do you want?" You mumbled as you saw Superman's large frame in the shadows, you tried to make yourself steady, your mind being not in the right state since you had inhaled too much pollen, trying to take your misery away, your foster father's impression on you still followed you in your late teen years. "Y/N, we can talk...you are taking it so hard on yourself!" Clark walked closer to you, now giving up his attention, fully. You couldn't help but chuckle at that as you tried to make yourself stay steady, you were out of the league for six months now, this time was enough for Clark and his family to realize your situation, you were giving up everything you had built for years.

"I don't care!" You said, chuckling bitterly as you sniffled more pollen, your vision turning blur. Clark reached out to you, but you refused his touch. "I wanted to be great...and I will be...just wait and see...I will be...one way or another!" Clark thought of what you were saying as result of the pollen drug but he didn't know what was in your mind "Y/N, you're not in the best condition to talk, let's get you somewhere safe so you can take that stuff out of your system!"

"No touching!" You slapped his hand away as you sat on a bench, the bushes around you slowly engulfing your body, Clark watched this and it felt like you were fading away "We'll meet again Superman..."your middle finger raised to let him know what you thought of him, and it was not good, at all. You'd meet him soon...

#yandere batman #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere superman #yandere clark kent #yandere dc #neglected reader #yandere jon kent #yandere conner kent #yandere karen starr #yandere kara zor el #yandere lois lane #yandere bizzaro #yandere krypto

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necros-writing-stuff · 6 months

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"I can take care of myself," the hunter huffs, pushing your hands away from his rain-wettened hair. Droplets fall from the dark locks onto his cheeks, his soaked sleeve doing little to dry the skin there.

You hum, your nose scrunching as your head tilts to the side. Arms go slack, falling from his face and resting to your sides - already accepting that Eden's stubbornness would win. For now.

Evidently, though, you'd 'said' the wrong thing.

"What's that mean? 'Hmm'? You think I can't take care of myself when it's all I've been doing my entire life?" Those dark brows furrow, his lip lifting into a snear. The scars on his face warp with his expression, only furthering the fearsome glare.

Obviously a nerve had been hit. Eden's walls were built high and foundationed deep; most people didn't have a chance of getting over them, under them, or through them. He isn't sure quite when you'd gotten the seige weapons to cleave your path through each layer.

With a small smile, you turn to grab the mop, drying off the trail of footprints your husband had dragged inside. "No, I don't think you took good care of yourself. Not emotionally, anyway."

He doesn't move from his spot, but his face drops. His mouth is agape and his expression undeniably incredulous. "I'm fucking sorry? You want to repeat that?"

The rules of dealing with beasts in the wild varies by species. Some you look in the eye, make yourself bigger. Others will kill you the second your pupils lock, or fly into a rage at any posturing. Your husband's anger is best appeased by an apology (especially if it comes accompanied by a physical reparation).

"I don't think you take good care of yourself, Eden." You choose to stand your ground, throwing a look over your shoulder; your face expressionless while his grew redder from the building blood pressure.

"You never tell me how you're feeling. You never tell my why you're sad when I see it in your eyes. You just bottle everything up so tightly I don't think you recognise why you feel things half of the time until it builds and builds and yet you stay quiet and grow more distant when I'm right here to listen to it all."

His foot shifts, shoulders twitching as his eyes, for the briefest moment, flicker over to the door where the miserable rain waits for him to return. He doesn't have to go back to that cold embrace. He could stay. He could hear what you have to say, just this once.

"I-I'm fine." Yet its plain to see the struggle it takes for him to even say that, brows shooting up, head angling down, eyes widening as he chokes on the words.

"You don't have to be. I won't think any less of you for it. I think it's a very brave thing to admit when you're hurt."

Eden seems entranced by the knots in the wooden floorboards, those water droplets falling now onto his leather boots. "... I don't know how to be anything else."

There's more to say. There will always be more to dig up from Eden's iron-clad past. Instead you put the mop aside and fetch a towel, draping it over your husband's shoulders and guiding him to his favourite chair by the crackling fire as you take off his old boots.

"Just come to me and be honest when things go wrong, or something bad happens in your head. You don't need to tell me details, not if you don't want to. But I still want to hold your hand and kiss your cheek to make you smile." Your fingers thread with his own cool digits, thumbs rubbing over them to encourage warmth to return.

Eden isn't there, though. Not mentally. That far-away look in his glazed-over eyes is accompanied by a slight gathering of tears threatening to pool over his lash-line at any due moment.

Wetness be damned, you join him in his chair, arms encircling the haunted man and pulling his head against your chest. You only breath properly again when you feel his rough hands tightly grip onto you, holding on as though you're the last lifeline at the edge of a cliff.

Perhaps for him you are.

#spill my guts #eden the hunter #degrees of lewdity #gn reader #y'all like angst?#necro's fics

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tipsyleaf · 5 months

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𝔹𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕒 𝔾𝕠𝕠𝕕 ℝ𝕦𝕟 [𝔼𝕟𝕕]

DI!Leon Kennedy x Reader

Summary: Leon finally wakes up...

Words: 1.5k

Content Warning: kinda Cliff hanger end (sorry not sorry), talks of loneliness and emptiness

[Previous Part]

Masterlist

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. A whole lot of nothing.

He huffs in irritation, rubbing the exhaustion from his eyes as he shuts the filing cabinet with his hip. An hour of searching this entire room and nothing.

I'm getting too old for this job...

Glancing over at you, he turns his flashlight off, walking over as he slips it into it rightful place in his pocket. Leon leans on the desk, moving closer down to your level.

"Anything interesting?" You shake your head.

"Nothing useful. Just a bunch a money transfers and employee back and forth... You?" You look up at him from the desk chair. Frustration written across your face.

"They cleaned the place out. Not a single scrap of anything useful."

"You still got that flashdrive with the copies of anything we could get off from the servers that wasn't blocked by a password?" Leon nods, giving you a curious slide eye.

"Why?"

"Claire is gonna want copies of everything we could find. Especially if this is another outbreak contained to Havana. TerraSave would appreciate it."

In the moment all he can think back to is Alcatraz and the hell that day was. How he could have been turned himself if it wasn't for the luck of Rebecca showing up at the right exact time with a vaccine.

With the life he's had alone, he wouldn't wish that on his worst enemy.

He softly shrugs with a nod. You were right, whatever information you could find in the moment was important. If you didn't gather it, it just be destroyed to save face for the bioweapon creating organization you were investigating this week.

You look over at the rows of servers, blue lighting up against the wall, grinning you look back at Leon.

"You feel like destroying shit?"

"What did you have in mind?" He smirks watching you reach into your holster pouch and pull out a grenade.

"Boom boom?" He breathes out a laugh, grabbing your shoulder and giving it an approving squeeze.

"That's my girl, I'm teaching you well."

Within minutes you were both rushing out of the room, the clunk of the grenade echoing as it bounced across the floor. The sliding door to the room shutting behind you both as the loud BOOM pierced the air.

Causing the metal door to indent outwards and slowly clang onto the floor. You stare at the door rocking back and forth on its indent. Leon looks at you, giving a nod of approval right before the hallway turns into a flashing red color and sirens start blaring.

"Okay, maybe that wasn't the best idea!" He yells over the loud screeching.

Both turning you hall ass back the way you originally came in. Stopping in your tracks you both look as a metal gate closes over the end of the hallway, you're only exit.

"Son of bitch..." You mumble, turning to look at him. He starts looking around, trying to formulate some kind of plan.

Leon pushes a door open gesturing for you to come over, stepping to him you see a staircase going up.

"I guess you could say, things are looking up." You groan at his stupid remark he definitely thinks is funny.

"Boo, hiss. Bad joke." You push past him and start up the stairs.

"Oh, like you could do any better Smartass." He quickly follows, keeping up with you. Making it to the first landing you turn and look back at him.

"Did no one ever tell you? You can't trust stairs Leon, they're always up to something." You feign irritation as he smirks.

"God, I really am teaching you well."

"Shut up."

You two travel up the stairs, checking each door, finding it locked. Until reaching the 5th and final floor.

Reaching the landing you both notice the door is wide open. Leon draws his weapon, you following suit as you step into the hallway, noticing the mess of papers across the carpeted floors. Office doors all left open for all the world to see. Most likely when the building was originally evacuated not long after everyone arrived.

"Looks like everyone really was in a hurry to get the hell out of here."

"I doubt anyone's left up here," Leon adds, looking into a nearby office, "and we don't really have all the time in the world to search every room. We need to get back to the group."

"So what's the plan then?" Watching Leon he steps around the corner, you follow behind without much thought. Soon you both approach a set of double doors and press them open.

Walking in you're met with a long hall, metal grates beneath your thick boots as you step in. The red lights from before illuminating the area. You both look to the sides of the rails seeing that there's a high drop on both sides.

"I knew we'd find this eventually," Leon looks at you, his eyes filled with accomplishment, "this is the long stretch we saw connecting the office to the hospital side when we arrived."

"Oh, good find then Kennedy."

Continuing forward you both holster your weapons and start walking the long stretch. Clanking fills the hallow room as you both walk.

"Do you think they cleared the hospital completely?" You question, glancing at Leon in your peripheral.

"I'd assume so. Though Chris hasn't contacted me like he's supposed to so-" Leon's cut off by a loud metal scrapping with a wet gurgling sound rattling against the walls.

You look up at the wall to your right and see it. A disgusting gooey looking monstrosity with 4 long tentacle like arms, clinging to the wall. It shrieks before lunging and missing you both and wetly slopping onto the metal grates behind you.

Taking off towards the end of the walk away you both draw your pistols getting ready to fight it. Leon turns and fires at it, pushing you to keep running towards the exit.

Hearing him to pop shots you turn seeing it quickly making it's way across the high ceiling, directly for you. You aim and fire a few shots, hitting it and blowing a hole in one of it's long arms.

Before you reach the exit the monstrosity drops in front of the door blocking your way to freedom. It swings it injured arm out, wrapping your legs up swiftly, Leon shoots at it's arm, your gun goes flying from your hand and off the platform.

Being jerked into the air you feel a crunch in your leg, shooting pain going to your ankle as you scream in agony being waved around, your body flailing like a rag doll as gun shots continue to pop through the air.

The beasts arm finally snaps off, sending you over the edge of the walkway and into the dark abyss below. Screaming for help as you plummet into whatever lies below.

"NO!" Leon looks over the rail seeing you disappear almost instantly into the darkness below. Finally hearing a loud crash a few seconds later.

Looking at the thing in his way he makes the quick decision to just do what he knows best...

Blow it to hell.

Grabbing his own grenade her grabs the trigger and pulls the pin throwing it at the monster. He jumps over the railing diving into the dark as he hears the explosion blow above him.

Darkness... He's surrounded by darkness as he hopes to live, for the first time in a long time he cares if he lives. He needs to know if his partners okay...

Being swallowed by the only black he sees the hole you've made, you laying lifeless on tile right before he almost lands next to you.

...

The darkness soon breaks... Being replaced by a bright blinding light.

A blinding florescent light.

Leon cracks his eyes open, looking down at himself. A white hospital blanket pulled up to his shoulders and a thick fleece gray blanket covers his lower half.

I'm in a hospital?

To his right she sees a heart monitor, IV bag dripping liquids into him and a tiny thin tube leading somewhere to him.

The hell happened to me...

Looking to his left, he sees you. Curled up in an arm chair asleep, covered by a black blanket. Your hand holding onto his for dear life.

"mmm..." He can't really talk yet, but he weakly clenches his hand around yours. Giving the strongest squeeze he can manage in his weakened state.

Your head lifts slowly, sleep invading your eyes as you swore in your sleep your felt something. Looking up at Leon you see his head slightly turned towards you, blue eyes on you, brightest you've seen them in these past grueling week.

"Leon!" Darting up from your chair, you lean over him. Staring at his eyes as you study him to make sure you aren't having some cruel dream.

"Where..." His voice is so hoarse as he tries to talk, you stop him.

"Don't, don't talk... Just let yourself wake up." You look at the table grabbing the nurse call button and start pushing it a few times.

"You're at a rehabilitation hospital in DC... There's a lot to explain."

A nurse and Dr. Owens comes in as you take a seat, watching them do an exam on Leon as he responds the best he can.

It took a while for Leon to be able to respond properly, his doctor doing more scans, tests and anything possible to test his abilities.

Sadly you both found out that Leon would have to relearn how to walk again and get his strength back up. Both very possible through physical therapy.

...

But through it all he still has you. From being in a wheelchair at your retirement dinner, moving him into your tiny apartment to keep an eye on him and watching him take his first steps again without assistance.

An now, 4 months later, he still has you by his side. Making sure he's taken care of and cherished like he's supposed to be. He knows he's loved, he's never felt this loved before in his life.

Even now as you walk out of the restaurant you went to for his 40th birthday. A day you made a huge fuss about, something he probably wouldn't have done if you didn't make him enjoy himself.

You look up seeing him walk out, cane pressing against the sidewalk with a soft click as he waltzes over and sits next to you on the bench.

"You okay, Hun?" He nods with a smile, messing with something in his pocket. He looks nervous almost.

"I just don't get why you made such a big deal out of today." Leon looks at you, letting his cane go and holds onto the edge of the bench.

"It's your 40th birthday, Dumbass. Of course I'd make a big deal, the day is all about you." You smile watching his eyes light up, hands gripping the bench. Squeezing rhythmically, almost like it's a stress ball.

"Well," he begins, looking back at you with an inviting smile, "what if I don't want my birthday to be only about me?"

Your eyebrows wrinkle, confusion falling on your face before he starts fiddling around in his jacket pocket.

"You know, for the longest time I've felt lonely. Years, it's been years. Since before we met. Before I started working for the government."

"Leon, what's-" He cuts you off before you can say anything else.

"Please, let me talk. I promise I'm going somewhere with this." He sounds serious, nodding you shut up and let him go.

"I guess you could say that I felt empty. Tried filling the void with... a number of different things. Nothing ever made me happy or feel whole... Until I met you."

He pulls his hand out of his pocket and covers his hand with his other hand. Not taking his eyes off you.

"You were such a hard ass when we met. Didn't let me breathe wrong way without putting me in line. But, I liked it. I liked that you were blunt and not afraid to speak your mind or call me stupid. Especially if I was being stupid... And it made me feel like someone truly had my back. After all the shit I've been through."

A soft pop sound comes from his hands, a blue cap falling from his hands. Bouncing across the ground a few feet away.

"And then you told me you loved me. An proved it... Proved that I could depend on you. Stuck with me through recovery, even if the past few months have been a personal hell for me. You really showed me what it was like to be loved. Loved by someone who wanted the best for me and actually cared."

Finally, he moves his hands reaching into a small white cup, pulling out a plastic ring with a giant fake diamond on it. You gasp soft, looking at it your eyes start welling with tears. A few slipping out and leaving wet streaks down your cheeks. His smile grows larger, looking at you fondly. Like he always looks at you when he thinks you don't notice him.

"Now, I know it's nothing *fancy* and we can get you something real. I just haven't had the chance to leave your side and get something... not 50¢."

He grunts, sliding off the bench and to the ground, bad knee up and his good leg under him. Taking your hand you give a wobbly smile.

"I don't want to spend another day where I can't call you my wife... My actual wife. I don't want anybody else. Just you... Just you and me. Just the two of us."

He takes a deep breath, holding the ring up.

"Will you marry me?"

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x fem reader

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