#had a period of watching it like. once a day last year
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"Valentines Day is a capitalistic scam made to sell chocolate and flowers!" Eddie Munson bellowed, leaping to the top of a cafeteria table not even ten minutes into lunch.
"Do you think he was born like this, or just dropped on his head as a baby?" Heather asked, rolling her eyes as the super senior began waving his arms around, getting way too into his annual “anti-valentines day” rant.
Steve, who'd tuned out the dramatics in favor of trying to figure out how he could ditch school, only heard her because she’d begun running her foot up his leg.
Directly in front of Patrick.
As if half the school didn’t know he planned on asking her out after school.
Long over being a part of these kinds of games, Steve kicked out, forcing Heather’s leg off his.
He did it harder than he intended and immediately winced, as if he hadn’t meant to do it at all. Aimed a sad little look at her, softening his eyes in the way he knew ladies loved while murmuring a quiet "sorry.”
A pudding cup was offered as an additional apology--which Heather, thankfully, accepted.
Crisis averted, Steve used the movement of handing the cup over to get his legs well out of Heather's range. He had other things to think about today, and getting drawn into whatever drama Heather was trying to brew wasn’t on the list.
Particularly given the basketball team as a unit had started snubbing him out.
"Newsflash ladies! Your man isn't taking you to some shitty restaurant because he loves you, he's doing it because he hopes you'll give it to him in your car!" Munson continued, voice growing impossibly louder.
A crude gesture followed, involving hip thrusts and hand jabs.
Several of the cheerleaders shot him disgusted looks as he did it.
"Definitely dropped on his head." Carol said, glaring at Munson as his little group of freaks and geeks cheered him. "More than once."
Steve hummed an agreement, more on automatic than from actually listening. He knew how to look like he was paying attention, even if his head was deep in possible escape plans.
If he dipped at the last minute to the bathroom on the way to fifth period, Tommy wouldn't have time to stop him and he could make a break for his car…
That just left making up a plausible enough excuse as to why thee Steve Harrington, whose single status was the current hot topic of the school, left school early on Valentines Day.
("Candy, sex, the overwhelming affection of all the ladies." Tommy drawled out that morning, practically preening. "Valentine's Day is the best holiday man. Just look at all this!"
He waved a hand at his locker, which was absolutely covered in paper hearts.
"The rally squad put hearts on the lockers of everyone on the basketball team, Tommy." Carol argued, rolling her eyes. "Steve’s is practically buried in them.”
Tommy opened his mouth to respond, no doubt with something else teasing and rude, but Carol’s elbow caught him in the gut first.
“If you keep acting like this you're not getting any sex." She warned.
"Aww baby, don't be like that. You know you're the only one for me." Tommy teased, with a wink that prompted Carol to smack him on the shoulder.
Laughing, he added: "Besides we can't fight or we'll miss our favorite game. Which poor gal thinks this year is the year Steve will take her out on a date!"
Carol allowed Tommy to put an arm over her shoulder, the two of them turning knowing grins on their friend as a singular unit.
Even if Steve hadn’t felt like their friend in a hot minute.
Not in the way he used to.
"I do love watching them stutter through their little confessions.” Carol admitted, like this wasn’t something they’d loved doing since middle school. “I wonder if anyone will ever top Cindy Komer."
Steve almost wasn't fast enough to cover his wince--that particular incident had been painful for him and Cindy.
Steve still had no idea what he'd said to make the then-freshman cry.
He thought he'd been nice about turning her down, but judging by Carol constantly quoting what he'd said, Steve had a feeling he'd accidentally been an asshole again.
Not that anyone ever thought it was accidental.
“Steve? Hel~lo? Are you listening?” Carol said, snapping to get his attention and God did Steve hate that.
Never realized just how much until Nancy but after she’d pointed out that Carol treated him and Tommy both like her dogs, well.
It was hard not to notice--and be a bit resentful.
“God you keep doing this, you’re turning into such a space case.” Carol continued, the edge back in her voice. The same one she’d been using for a while, like Steve was on her last nerve. “Please tell me you’re not still mooning over Nancy fucking Wheeler.”
“No.” He snapped, only to know instantly that was the wrong move, and try to fix it before Carol blew up. “No--I’ve just already had to fend someone off today. Like first thing--I was barely out of my car.”
There, that should keep Carol and Tommy both off his back for being “angry” and it wasn’t even a lie. He really had been asked out earlier, though the girl had been gracious about his rejection.
Of course, this kind of instant redirection came with a price--and in this case, it was being absolutely hounded for more information.
“Oh shit who!? Was it that Buckley girl?” Carol perked up immediately, like a hunting dog scenting prey. “I swear she stares holes in your head, she’s so weird…” )
"This isn't about romance! It's about showing who has the most cash, gets the most sex! It's a pathetic social ritual you're all falling for!” Munson yelled, jolting Steve back into the present. “I bet none of you even enjoy it!”
"Tell that to all the girls Steve’s dated!” One of the younger basketball guys hollered, prompting a wave of laughter from the rest of the cafeteria. “They seem to enjoy it plenty!”
Steve couldn’t see who had said it, and should have felt the normal wave of smug warmth that the team had his back.
Except his team had already proven they didn’t.
Were in fact, siding more and more with Hargrove, just as Tommy was.
They were rapidly approaching a watershed moment. Steve could feel it, the same way he’d always been able to tell when a crowd was about to turn.
He was losing, but was still on top of Hawkins social spaces enough, had caught it early enough, that he could turn everyone’s favor--if he wanted.
Emphasis on ‘if.’
Munson spun to face his table, hair whipping to smack him in the face. The guy had clearly been trying to grow it out, but right now he looked like one of those poodles Carol's mom loved so much.
So said Carol, anyway.
"You sure about that?" Munson challenged, a crazed grin breaking across his face. "Rumor has it King Steve lost his groove ever since Wheeler dumped him!"
Steve grimaced, though he was secretly thankful Munson went with "dumped" instead of "cheated on" (or any of the other vile words Billy had flung around, spreading across the school in the sick, crawling way rumors moved.
Hargrove had been positively brutal about the whole Jonathan and Nancy thing, and the only reason he wasn't here now to spin this whole situation against Steve was because the guy always vanished at lunch.)
Tommy's face morphed into an affronted snarl, hands slapping down on the table. He turned expectantly to Steve, waiting for "The King" to get up and "handle" Munson.
Like Steve even cared about this dumb high school shit anymore.
It took him a moment to realize Steve wasn’t planning on doing anything. Was in fact, going to remain perfectly quiet, other than an eyeroll and half-assed middle finger in Munson’s direction.
Tommy let out a disgusted scoff in his direction and then decided to handle things himself.
(Like that had ever been a good idea.)
“Shut up, Freak. The only game you have is in the prison showers.” He snapped, half rising from the table. “Isn’t that why you keep your hair long? So all the boys will actually fuck you?!”
Whistles and yells lit the air, though Steve didn’t miss how the girls at the table looked taken aback at the sheer vitriol in Tommy’s voice.
Even Carol looked startled, eyes sliding to meet Steve’s as if to confirm she hadn’t just imagined it.
The three of them had always been good at this kind of mindless high school banter, but this over the top, crude shit?
It wasn’t Tommy’s style.
It was Hargrove’s.
(That was its own growing issue.
The way Tommy was gravitating towards Billy.
How Carol kept expecting Steve to act like he used to.
That she blamed his “outbursts” on Nancy, snidely mentioning that Steve had better have learned his lesson about “changing his personality for pussy.”
Even now Steve knew they were only defending him because Munson was the one saying it.)
“I didn’t realize Harrington still had his attack dog!”
Munson put a hand against his heart as though injured, staggering dramatically backwards.
“I thought you were too busy putting your tongue up Hargrove’s ass to bark at people!”
Tommy immediately fired back, letting loose an uninspired string of curse words and something about Eddie being queer again. Steve didn’t hear the specifics--didn’t care to hear it, even as things started to spiral out of control.
All he wanted to do was go home.
Ideally before Billy got back from lunch and decided to make a spectacle himself, because Steve could feel that coming just as he could everything else.
He was running out of time to come up with an excuse to get out of here without making a production out of it, and Munson wasn’t someone he wanted to piss off today, given he’d half hoped to buy weed off the guy before he ditched.
…Which was looking more and more unlikely given Tommy had just screeched some insult that had put Munson’s sights back on Steve.
“You sure? Cause Harrington looks like he’s just gonna sit there and take it, just like he takes everything Hargrove and Wheeler and anyone else throws at him.”
He leered, leaning forward as if to see into Steve’s very soul.
“I don’t know if anyone else has noticed, but our beloved King here hasn’t exactly been defending his crown. If anything, he’s abandoned it.”
The world stopped.
This was the first time someone actually called him out on the fact that he often let whatever crap Billy spewed go. That Nancy and him had a few awkward encounters publicly, with at least one of them starting a rumor that she’d told Steve to fuck off.
(She hadn’t of course, but Carol had stopped running damage control, and Steve was feeling the effects of her ire.)
Silence echoed, and Steve realized with a dawning sort of horror, that Munson was waiting for a response from him.
Just as the entire cafeteria was.
The catalyst was here, brought on early by one Edward Munson.
With a startling amount of clarity, Steve realized he was done.
With his so called friends, with the girls who’d tried corning him all morning, with Hargrove and just--everything.
He was over it.
If Billy wanted the crown so bad he could fucking have it.
(If Tommy wanted to pretend he was tougher than he was by mimicking the dick, then he could have that too.)
“This is stupid.” Steve announced, dropping the masks he so carefully wore. The ones he kept having to fix, because the Upside Down and its related demons (human and non) kept taking chunks out of it.
He stood, feeling the weight of the room press down on him as he faced them all down.
“Yeah--!” Tommy started to pile on, seeming to think Steve was about to unleash hell, and got the surprise of a lifetime when Steve turned and jammed a finger in his face.
“Shut up.” He snapped.
Knew instantly he only got away with it by the fact that he’d caught everyone off guard.
King Steve did a lot of things, but he rarely blew up.
“This is stupid.” He reiterated, voice booming across the lunch room, “ You wanna fight? Fine, but leave me out of it.”
“The King doesn’t want to play? Why I never thought we’d see the day!” Munson clucked his tongue, and without missing a beat Steve turned to him.
“For someone who is always screaming about nonconformity, you sure are happy to attack anyone who doesn’t do what you want.”
Steve’s voice was loud, but he wasn’t screaming. Wasn’t yelling or throwing his arms around.
He didn’t need to. Had never needed to.
“I heard you going off on that guy whose lunch you're standing on yesterday, because he wanted to watch the Colts play.” Steve continued, voice cold. “Half of your friends are terrified of you, because you’ll scream at them just like you accuse us of doing--and let’s be real here, Munson, you do it more.”
In a dramatic move that absolutely, 100% came from Dustin and his theatrics, Steve shrugged his letterman jacket off and bunched it into a ball.
“You might as well crown yourself King, because you’re the exact same as the rest of us. Here--you can start with this.”
Cocking back an arm, Steve let the jacket fly. Watched with everyone else as it landed neatly right at Eddie’s feet.
Shell shocked, Munson’s eyes drifted from Steve down to the letterman jacket and back. They were massive, those stupid eyes of his, but at least it meant Steve could see the realization wash over the guy in real time.
Steve should have felt smug about it. His past self would have.
Presently?
He just felt tired.
“You’re welcome to jam it up your ass.” He finished, before giving his own sarcastic half bow to the room.
The cafeteria was dead silent. Not a fork was scraped, or a loud piece of chip chewed. All eyes were on Steve, some waiting to see if Eddie would let him have the last word, others just shocked to see Steve lose his shit in front of them.
Idiot he was, he tried to rally anyway.
Even Tommy, who’d partly stood up, hands pressed against the lunch table looked shocked.
“What the fuck Steve!?” He sputtered, and it wasn’t long before half the basketball team was muttering similar remarks.
They were ignored.
Whispers ripped across the room when Steve turned on his heel, striding towards the exit and making it clear things were over, but Tommy didn’t give up.
“Fuck you Harrington!” He hurled at his back, Carol now standing and placing a restraining hand on his arm. “You’re not fucking better than any of us!”
Steve didn’t even look back.
"That's my point Tommy." Steve said, loud enough to be heard. "No one is better than anyone else. You lot are all just buying into your own bullshit.”
Then he was slamming through the doors, and out into the sunlight.
xXx
He didn’t want to go home.
Not anymore, which was ironic in a way that made Steve’s face screw up in a grimace.
Here he’d been dying to go to his stupid house all day, and now, after losing his shit and undoubtedly, the last of his social standing, he just didn’t feel like being by himself.
All alone, in a house too big for him, full of nothing but dark corners and a phone that never rang.
So instead, he wandered, reminiscing on how Valentine's Day used to be his favorite day of the year.
Steve loved the gesture of it all--the romance, the wooing. The butterflies floating in one's stomach, mixing with fear of rejection and a burning kind of hope towards starting something new.
Of course, Steve also had always had a girl in mind, when he celebrated. Now, after Nancy…
He did not.
It felt weird to go to Skull Rock--the place he himself had made into Hawkins hottest makeout spots. Likewise all the local restaurants were off limits--too many adults knew how much he loved the holiday.
Steve didn’t want to face that. The expectations, the knowing winks that would slide into uncomfortable frowns. Any possible advice given wouldn’t be appreciated, and the last thing Steve wanted was to get the “everyone has an off season, son” speech.
So he’d stayed away from his usual haunts. Explored some storefronts instead, the Beamer parked in front of Family Video as he wandered.
Had an entirely too peaceful two hours, which of course, meant he had to bump into someone.
At least, Steve thought dully, whole body tensing in preparation, it was Munson.
Not Hargrove, or Tommy, or hell--the children, demanding he help them fight some other fucked up creature the government had accidentally summoned.
“Hey Harrington.” Munson said, and it took a moment for Steve to realize the guy was embarrassed. “I uh, I need to talk to you.”
Steve just stared at him.
“If you couldn’t tell from earlier,” He warned, “I’m a little done talking for today.”
Or any day, for the foreseeable future.
“Yeah no--I, I got that. I--okay.” Eddie stopped rocking on his heels, before giving his entire body a shake, like the guys sometimes did while prepping for a game. “Hear me out, and then you can deck me or leave or whatever makes you feel better.”
“I’m not going to deck you.” Steve said, exasperated and frazzled and not wanting to do this whole song and dance a second time.
Not that it mattered, because Munson had already launched right into whatever it was he needed to say.
“There’s this book right? My Uncle got it for me. It’s a fantasy book all about this big battle and there’s these wizards in it, and--” He stopped himself, shaking out his hands.
Like he realized he was rambling and needed the movement to get himself back on track.
“I always--I guess I saw myself as a Gandalf kinda guy? Like I was this shepherd herding these lost sheep. A person who intimately knew all the dark forces of the world and could be a shield for them. Do not pass and all that.”
He chuckled, but it was weak, and he killed it almost immediately.
“...Okay?” Steve said, knowing he was supposed to say something here, even if he had no idea what.
Maybe something about how Gandalf the Grey wasn’t exactly a shepard given he’d led the hobbits straight into Mordor, but saying that meant admitting Steve knew what Lord of the Rings was, which wasn’t a conversation he felt like getting into.
Particularly not because he’d only read the damn things after losing a bet to Dustin and Mike both.
Munson nodded, as if acknowledgement was all he needed.
“I thought that’s what I was doing. I wasn’t and I didn’t realize I wasn’t until you pointed it out. You shouldn’t have had to point it out. You shouldn’t have had to say any of what you did.” He rushed to add, oddly sincere.
"Is this…" Steve might be confused but catching on, an uptick at the corners of his mouth as the tiniest spark of amusement leaked through. "an apology? Are you trying to apologize right now?"
Eddie groaned, flinging his head back. "No!”
Then immediately;
“Actually yes, but--”
Which caught Steve off guard enough that he laughed, and had to hide it with a cough.
“I am sorry, man. I shouldn’t have said that shit about you, especially not about you and Wheeler. It's more than that though.” Munson swallowed, before squaring his shoulders. “It’s that you were right."
“I was right?” Steve repeated dumbly, because fuck, he couldn’t believe it either.
Not that Munson heard him. Eddie always had been hard to stop once he started, and Steve had been in enough classes with the guy to know the train had left the station.
"I did yell at Jeff because he wanted to watch that stupid football game.” He began, and Steve got a front row seat to watch as one Eddie Munson word vomited his way through a myriad of emotions.
“I fuckin’ lost it on Grant because he missed band practice to drive his sister to some thing. Gareth looked like I was going to hit him when I asked if I had really been that bad--same exact look he gave Hagan and those other assholes that cornered him in the bathroom two weeks ago!”
“Tommy did what?”
Steve was promptly ignored.
(Or more likely, Eddie simply didn’t hear him, too lost in his own voice to realize Steve had said something.)
There were a lot of mentions of the Gandalf guy. Where Eddie thought he’d gone wrong, and even something about a glowing eye thing that had Steve a little concerned until he realized Munson was talking about Sauron (and also made Steve realize that he’d been pronouncing Sauron in his head wrong, oops.)
“I called up this friend of mine who graduated. She’s always been no nonsense, so I asked her for her advice.” Munson said, finally seeming to slow down a little. “She told me I might as well eat my own doctrine because I sure wasn’t living by it, and that if I wanted to fix it then I should start by apologizing. To everyone but--to you, first.”
Eddie took a step back, winging out his hands as if to present himself.
“So here I am. Apologizing.”
A pause wherein neither of them did a thing, which caused him to awkwardly add; “To uh, you. Harrington.”
“Yeah I got that.” Steve said, because what else was he supposed to do here? “Good for you? I guess?”
“Most people either forgive a guy or tell him to fuck off.” Munson pouted, and mimicked like he was kicking at a rock.
It made Steve want to laugh again, though he shoved the urge down.
“Someone once told me,” He said instead, speaking slowly to make damn sure he didn’t let slip this piece of advice came from a middle schooler. “that apologies without actions don’t really mean anything. They’re a start--they let people know you’re aware you screwed up, but no one’s going to trust you if you don’t follow through. So I can forgive you, but I think you’re better off doing this with one of your friends.”
Someone who would hug it out, or at least tell Eddie how he could be better, at least.
Rather than argue, Munson just titled his head back, eyes to the sky. Like he was really thinking on the words, before giving a sort of accepting sounding noise.
“Trying too.” Steve admitted with a sigh.
“That’s what you’ve been doing, isn’t it?” He asked, head coming back down so he could stare at Steve.
“The thing in the cafeteria was a good start.”
“Yeah?”
Eddie grinned.
“Yeah. Don’t think Hagan’s gonna see it the same way though.”
“We were falling out anyway.” Steve admitted, and hated how easy it was to say.
That they really were just going through the motions of friendship. Had been, ever since Jonathan had punched Steve in the face.
“Think you lost more than just him as a friend, to be honest.”
“Pro tip about the actions thing, Munson?” Steve said with a snort, once again unsure of where this conversation was going, “Nice people don’t typically point out when someone’s turned into a social pariah.”
“No, I get that. Say,” Eddie’s grin had grown, which Steve would have taken poorly except he invaded Steve’s space with a goofy little hop. “I think you might be in need of some new ones!”
“New…friends?” Steve hesitated, very unsure of what was happening.
Munson promptly stuck his hand out. “Yup! So--hello, my name is Eddie Munson, and I am here to apply for the position as your friend!”
Steve snorted, but the harshness of it was taken away by the grin on his face.
He took Eddie’s hand, noting how doing so made the older teen’s smile widen.
“Nice to meet you Eddie, I’m Steve.”
Excited, Eddie waived their arms up and down, with far more enthusiasm than the gesture required.
“How about we cement our new friendship by renting a truly terrible horror movie and drowning our woes with my other good friend, Mary Jane?”
Then he waggled his eyebrows, like that was something scandalous.
“Tempting me along with weed, huh?” Steve mused back, sticking his hands in his pockets once Eddie let him go. “Guess you’re a little like Gandalf the Gray after all. Just don’t send me on any missions.”
“Steve Harrington.” Eddie gaped, pure delight spreading across his face. “Have you read Lord of the Rings!?”
He got a shrug and a sly; “Maybe.” in response.
It was worth the barrage of questions, even if the rapid fire pace of them nearly gave Steve a headache.
(Just as it was worth it several months later, when Steve was comfortable enough to instigate wrestling matches with Eddie over the dumbest of things.
One particularly semi-drunk tussle over the remote led to an interesting discovery when Eddie popped a boner, and then frantically tried to escape when it brushed against Steve’s leg.
Instead of panicking--or letting Eddie bolt in his panic, Steve just dropped his whole weight down, effectively pinning the slimmer man to the floor.
“Steve.”
Eddie said it so quietly he almost didn’t hear it, the word filled with desperation.
The kind of tone someone whispered a prayer in, a sort of pleading that Eddie did better with his eyes than his voice. Or would have, given his own were firmly scrunched closed the second he realized he’d been caught out.
Except--
“Not right now I’m thinking.” Steve told him absently.
Which he was. Speed thinking even, if that was a thing.
Because if two plus two equaled four (which it did) then feeling the exact same, fluttering excitement about Eddie’s boner as Steve had Nancy’s breasts, equaled…
“The fuck? Steve--”
Steve shushed him.
That pulled a frustrated, embarrassed groan from Eddie that went directly to Steve’s own dick, not that it needed much help waking up.
“I think I’m having one of those crisis’s Robin is always accusing the basketball team of having.” Steve informed Eddie dutifully, the dots done connecting.
Eddie, still refusing to open his eyes, snorted.
“Whatever man. Can you at least be decent and hurry up with the beating? This is embarrassing enough.”
“I’m not going to beat you up.” Steve said, thankful that his brain managed not to add some shitty comment about the entire town being awash in rumors of Eddie’s sexuality. That he’d confirmed it here wasn’t exactly a surprise.
“I’m going to try something. If you don’t like it, let me know.” Streve added, before screwing up his courage and leaning down.
That of course, got Eddie to open his eyes.
“Wha--” He managed, before Steve’s lips were on his.
For one single, blissful moment, Eddie Munson’s mouth was too busy to talk.
“Yeah?” Eddie said, voice wrecked, and oh, Steve liked that.
“Huh.” Steve muttered, when they broke for air. “Well that’s new.”
Liked the way Eddie looked at him more, hesitant, but with heat in his gaze.
Steve had always been good about knowing what to do with heat.
He leaned back down, pecking lightly at Eddie’s lips, and was delighted to find Eddie not only let him, but kissed back.
“Not bad, Munson, but I think I could give you a few pointers.” Steve muttered, nose ghosting alongside Eddie’s. “Let me show you…”
One boyfriend, several weeks, and another interdimensional monster later, Steve found himself socked in the arm by none other than his coworker, Robin Buckley.
In her defense, she’d confessed her love for Tammy Thompson, still somewhat drugged on the Starcourt bathroom floor, only for Steve to tease her that at least his boyfriend could actually sing.
“God you and Eddie Munson.” She muttered after, smile on her face. “How did that happen?”
Steve knocked his shoe into hers, returning the grin unabashedly.
“So remember last Valentines Day?” Steve started, all too eager to finally tell someone who understood about the best thing to ever happen to him.
Robin of course, would soon also be ranked in that same chart, but Eddie didn’t need to know that. )
#DADDYS BACK#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#pre steddie to steddie#0o0 fanfics#be gentle with me I JUST got my computer back lmao#this was a warmup I finished out#Ive been writing at work on my lunches#yes I have been working on adopt a jock#and the third part of the holiday hellfire fic#I think I stared at that steddisy one once#maybe#IDK this whole ass month has been a blurr
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More Papa Headcanons!
PLATONIC Papa!Alastor & GN!Child!Reader
Angst Flavored~
First Part
TW: ANGST- Just a teeny tiny bit. For the soul. Oh and Susan is mentioned.
A/N: Enjoy~
I usually leave this part up to you guys, the readers of my ramblings, but what if you were born out of wedlock? You are technically Alastor’s bastard child. Especially during that time period? That was greatly frowned upon and you never knew who your mother was! But despite all of that, Alastor and his Mom adored you. (Don’t get me wrong she probably chewed his ass out for it but she adored you.)
Now, as you grew older people started saying it to your face, even kids at your school. But everytime you brought it up to Alastor he got angry, not at you, so he teaches you how to defend yourself and makes sure that you know to never start a fight.
But once in hell, the name still sticks. Susan once overheard Alastor and Rosie’s conversation about it and called you that to your face. (Mean ass old woman right there.) And to say you were upset was an understatement, you knew better than to get into adult’s business but you just ran to your Papa sobbing cause you had thought you escaped that treatment. Despite being in Hell. You’re just clinging to his pants as you try your darndest not to cry but gosh the words keep echoing, both Rosie and Alastor are immediately worried about you. Cause you never cry or cause too much trouble!
Once they hear what Susan said? Rosie has to keep Alastor from flipping his lid. You stay by his side the rest of the day too scared to go play with the other kids in Cannibal Town. It shouldn’t bother you too much but you’ve been called that your entire few years of living and now it’s followed you down to Hell? What if the others start doing such a thing?
Not to worry, Auntie Rosie shuts the whole thing down if she even catches a whiff of it.
NOW ONTO NICER THINGS-
Full credit to @aceblaze01 for the idea of Vox being in Child!Reader’s afterlife! Especially when he and Alastor were hanging out(idk if I should call them partners). He was like an odd Uncle to you! Also 100% would let you watch kids cartoons on his screen, but you were so confused by it that you stood there staring at him before finally getting comfortable to sit down and watch those weird picture shows your papa talked about. He would totally put on Disney films for you.
You watched Bambi once and ended up crying. He had to hold you and calm you down before Alastor was alerted. After that he stuck with everything else but Bambi.
You sometimes go with Alastor to Overlord meetings and sit next to him drawing, not paying any mind to what’s going on either. You mostly draw your Papa and Auntie Rosie but you’ve started to draw Vox and that man cries when you hand him the drawings of him with very shaky handwriting and misspelled words. He loves it and keeps it hung up on his wall framed and everything. You gave a drawing to a lot of the nicer Overlords as a thank you for letting you join with your Papa. You gave one to Zestial, Carmilla and many of the unnamed ones that didn’t look too scary..you gave those to your Papa so he can give it to them.
Even after all those years and Alastor’s falling out with Vox as a whole, he kept your drawings still safely framed. He doesn’t have the heart to get rid of them. Valentino said one bad thing about them and got the shock of his afterlife. That’s the last time he brought it up. He still checks up on you, makes sure you're alright. Even though he can’t physically be next to you cause Alastor would lose his fucking shit, he makes sure he has people check up on you.
Vox has killed people who even thought of putting a hit out on you before Alastor ever caught wind about it. He’s not a man to play around with when it comes to you- his little niece/nephew/nibling (gender neutral term for niece/nephew).
During exterminations? Alastor stays with you the whole time. He doesn’t need anything hurting you. He keeps you in his room with books and anything else you want to bring. When you're in the hotel and extermination is around the corner, while the hotel is relatively safe. He still makes sure you stay far away from any doors leading to the outside.
Oh boy, you are the only one able to sit in his tower with him while he works! He has a chair designated for you and will answer any and all questions about his work (even if they do get silly and repetitive). You’ll fall asleep sometimes when he’s on air and he doesn’t miss a beat wrapping his jacket around you as he continues to talk.
Taglist: @littledolly2345, @aboyscriminalrecord
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel imagine#gn reader#alastor x reader#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor x you#hazbin hotel alastor x reader#alastor#platonic#child reader
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The Softest of Jason Todd HCs
Fem!Reader
A/N: Some of these were originally conceived for the lovely, talented, wonderful @midnightorchids. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE FALLOW HER RIGHT NOW
Masterlist
Jason fell for you slowly. It was the kinda falling that took on the form of severe distraction and confusion during his patrol time. The only spot in his second life he had crafted into hours of precise control and expectancy. He hated how, as he was clicking a mag into his handgun, his mind would flash to your smiling, blushed face. He hated how you would unintentionally make him trip and stumble over the roof-tops of Gotham. He hated how recalling the chime of your laugh made his hands sweaty under his leather gloves. He hated how he had to take off his helmet in the seclusion of an abandoned wear-house because recalling how his hand slipped in to your on your last date made his face heat up to the point where he felt like he would pass out.
Once he realised that the nervous pounding in his gut whenever your shoulders brushed was in-fact caused from a growing crush on you, he panicked. The eventual confession was awkward and stumbled, him making it clear that he needed time and room to figure it out. He took your smaller hands into his, promising that no matter what, for now he would figure it out with you at his side. Of course you agreed, squeezing his hands in confirmation.
Ya'll are soulmates, period. Very big 'he is half of my soul' energy. Your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces. Your words have already been said by the other before you can string them together in your head. You share in each-others grief and rage. Five years into the relationship, Jason knew you so well (and being raised in a family of detectives) that you would never have to explain your frustration or annoyance - and on days like that he would always be ready to wrap you up in a weighted blanket, forcing a cup of raspberry tea into your cold hands and his headphones over your ears with one of his audiobooks already playing. Carrying you to your shared bed for you to fall asleep leaned up against his chest, his thick arms wrapped tightly around you.
Despite his availability of wealth and status, he keeps your date-night very low-key and personal. On his off days from Red-Hooding, both of you would have cooking nights. Where you would sway and giggle with the slow drift of music coming from the kitchen radio. You would make something hearty and filling. You wanting to see Jason sigh in the comfort of good food. You both would curl up with your steaming bowls on your couch, probably watching Tangled (at your request). It's all extremely cozy, Jason smiling into your skin as gratitude blooms in his chest for you. For having created this safe, hidden expanse of reassurance. All while the harsh Gotham wind whipped just outside your window.
This man is smitten- he worships you entirely. His is in awe of you, even as both of you grow old, his love and his care for you never relents or dwindles.
Ya'll would go to museums and art galleries and he would point at statues and paintings of goddess and queens and say 'you', under his breath. It's so horribly corny but it makes you hold his arm just a bit tighter every time.
After you both moved in together, he developed a habit of making your coffee alongside his and bringing it to you in bed in the mornings. This eventually just became your routine on weekends when you both had enough time to bask in the slow creeping of sunlight over each-others skin.
He's a romantic at heart, a part of him you had to slowly unearth under years of torment and blood. You were the one to force him out of his cave of isolation and into the reality of him deserving softness and joy. It's a dept you have assured him he doesn't need to pay back. That doesn't stop him from trying.
Giggles and smiles like a little boy if you kiss his forehead, specifically at the roots of his white streak. You think it's one of the prettiest things about him.
Unintentional scary dog when you guys are out together. He's got his hand laced with yours or floating somewhere on your hip or lower back. It's mostly due to his anxiety, constantly having his head on a swivel. It's all heightened due to the fact that he has the most precious, important individual standing next to him. Whether it's at one of his Dad's galla's or trips to the local library, he likes to have you near him.
Bitch has multiple playlists made about/for you (a lot of Noah Kahn and TV Girl)
Example:
A/N: I may be gay but I have a very special place for sappy Jason in my heart. Please send in any requests regarding our boy (or any of the bat boys or girls)- I really love writing for the people in this fandom.
#jason todd x you#jason todd x reader#jason todd#batfam#batfamily#jason todd x y/n#jason todd fluff#red hood imagine#red hood x you#jason todd imagine#jason todd fanfiction#jason todd comfort#robin jason todd#red hood#dc robin#red hood x reader#red hood x y/n#red hood x fem!reader#jason todd x fem!reader#Spotify#Soft Jason Todd
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Hey, I love your stories for Daryl Dixon! If you wouldn’t mind I had a request? Daryl and reader have a pre established relationship (met at the querry, got together at the prison, got ‘married’ at some point) of a few years. During the line up, after Daryl hits Negan for killing Abraham, Negan can kind of figure out him and reader are together by matching wedding rings. To punish Daryl, negan can hang the reader until they ‘die’ (stop moving) and cuts her down. After Daryl is taken the group can realize, after being sad for a bit, that the reader is breathing and is alive and bring a her to hilltop. Negan could have put a bag over readers head or something before being hung so that once cut down its harder to tell she’s alive, and they could have even taken a picture of reader hung up to mess with Daryl in his cell. Dual POV. Extra extra angst, and happy ending/reunion when Daryl escapes please! If you could, could it be a few parts long? I understand if you can’t do that or even get to this request at all and that’s 100% okay! Anyways, love your story’s!
Someone cooked here... this is beautifully messed up. So right up my ally!
Hangman
(Daryl Dixon x Reader) Masterlist
Description: Y/N Dixon was to be punished for her husbands actions at the line up. Negan decided to do it in style. To have a rope looped for your neck, intended for your death. Daryl watches you hang before being dragged away. But you had still been alive by the time you were cut down.
2.1k words
Warnings (Mentions of suicide, gore, ANGST, violence, injury, ect.)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
You met Daryl and slowly fell in love with him. Most say they fell in love at first sight. But you? It was slowly then all at once. He was a gruff man, but under that was the most caring person you ever met. You had caught yourself thinking of him differently while on the road after the farm fell. You were friends at the farm, joking and teasing one another.
"You bein' sweet on me?"
You sniffle wiping a tear and punching him in the arm. He had gotten shot by Andrea and had fallin on a bolt while looking for Sophia. The punch hurt your redden knuckles. You had turned and laid Andrea out on the grass. Her cry's of "Did I kill him?!" Sent you to shut her mouth. Your lip wobble trying to not met him eye to eye. Daryl sighed, "Come on girl. No water works for me." He chuckled at the sight, amused to see you so worked up for his sake.
He learned you cared for him that day. He also learned how much he did when everyone was separated after the farm fell. He hugged you. More of shoved you into him practically about to lift you in the air.
“What? Getting sweet on me Dixon?”
It didn’t become romantic until the first night at the prison. Better know to Daryl as ‘THE kiss’. You had finally felt safe for the first time in a while, and you were thinking of him like crazy. So, when he was a little too close and looked down to your lips for a split second… you took action and ran with it. You had grabbed him with both hands and slowly lean into him. Didn’t last long, a peck— a test. He looked taken aback before it clicked and he was kissing you more. Now this moment was better known to you as ‘scarring T-dog’. He had gone to find both of you for dinner and found Daryl pinning you to a wall while making out.
The question of marriage wasn’t proposed as much talked about one late night months into the prisons development. You lay down legs tangled you smiling at him like a fool. The people of the prison loved Daryl. So when a new comer he saved reference to you as Mrs. Dixon it got you feeling a way. “M’ not sure I wanna ask what’s got you all giddy.” You rolled into him more, a dumb smile on your face, “You~”. He raised a brow at you. There were moments when you got all lovey, on him, normally when you were about to start your period. Or ovulating which was a different kind of lovey…
“What do you think about marriage?”
He was not expecting that. He froze thinking of his parents. “Never had a good example of it?” He just didn’t understand the purpose of it. What was to be married? More so with how the world is now. You lean your head against his chest, “I see it as just a promise. To promise myself to you.” He looked down to meet your eyes, “Thought ya were already mine?” You nodded with a smile, “Exactly, I’m already yours. But I would be caring your name as mine.” That is when it sank in, you a Dixon. The Dixons. Them. His hold on you became a little tighter. It would mean everything they already did. He knew the only death could part each other. Thats when you officially became his wife. Later with rings to match.
Till death do us part…
That lead you all to here and now. Face to face to death. Negan, finished with his brutal attack to Abraham. The remainder of what left of him desiccated. Negan swang the bloody bat splattering everyone with blood. His taunting made the hot head that is your husband try and attack him. He landed a crushing blow before getting pinned.
Your POV
It had happened so fast. Daryl was pinned with his own crossbow pointed at his head. The man holding it speaking, “I could end it right here.” You couldn’t even speak, you were shaking. Had a hand to your mouth trying to quiet your sobs. ‘Please don’t kill him… not him.’ Negan had noticed the ring on your finger and took a look to everyone’s face at that moment. He finally turned back to Daryl, “Nah, you don’t kill that. Not unless you try a little first.” A sick smile pulling his lips, “Put him back in line.” He eyed Daryl, “I don’t know what lying pricks you’ve been dealing with but I did say you only get one! No exceptions.” Negan leaned back before slowly turning to you and pointing, “Get her up.” You were swiftly pulled to your feet. Daryl’s voice booming in displeasure. Negan spoke again put to the group surrounding you, “We’ve never done this before! Simon… get the noose.” Some ooos rolled through the crowd.
Negan turned back to Rick. Daryl still wiggling free to help you. “See Rick I don’t like the look in your eye. Any of your eyes, you just don’t seem to get it!” It was Michonne voice urgent as she witnessed them set up the rope in a tree, “W-we get it. You don’t have to do that-“ Negans voice booming with amusement, “Oh I know you do but I did say no exceptions.” He turned his gaze to Daryl at the mention.
You were to be made as an example. To everyone but also for Daryl’s action. You couldn’t blame him for attacking him. He was a sick man doing horrendous things… and with a smile on top of it. You watched the rope go over a branch and someone put a wooden box down under the hanging rope.
You remember finding your Uncle hanging from a pipe in the garage. You were 8. The corners office stated he was hanging there for half a hour before he died, cause of death asphyxiation. The height he fell from didn't break his neck. The height of the box to the tree wasn’t high enough either.
Daryl was cursing and spitting threats as they dragged you to stand on the box. “I’LL KILL YOU, TOUCH HER AND I’LL KILL YOU!!!” But as the rope was looped around your head those threats turned to please, “No— PUNISH ME! IT WAS ME! NOT HER-“ He was crying and you looked on while he thrashed around. You smiled to him. You were scared sure, whether you were going to die fast or slow going through your mind.
Tears tracked down your face but you had stopped crying and had a look that could kill. Negan only seemed cheerful as always taking notice to your calming demeanor. You looked on to everyone on their knees as they stare at you with pure panic. You saw Rick’s hand shaking, mouth periodically opening to say something but he had nothing to say to get you out of this. Daryl had stopped thrashing and was looking to you with a face that pained you. He was pale from blood loss, eyes brimming with tears.
Your vision was blocked by a bag that was thrown over your head. You could slightly see through the fabric. Your heartbeat was in your ears. Negan had now come to stand next to you, “Now there is a new world order. You have shit I want so you give it to me or you could join— Hell her name?” You hear a savior state your name. “Ahh Y/N here… So let’s get this crystal clear for all of you now. You all belong to me.” He turned to you, “Any last words?”
You took a deep breath, “See you in hell.”
He chuckled. It was silent for a moment, air filled with anticipation. “Hope I don’t keep you waiting-“ He kicked that wooden box out from under you.
You felt gravity pulling you to the ground. Then the feeling of the rope tighten around your throat. Your ears picking up on the sounds of yelling and crying from your family. You had bobbed like a fish on a line. You put your hands to the rope on your neck. Struggling to breathe. Your body thrashing dangling from the tree. It wasn’t until you tilted your head back you got a little air. The noose didn’t seem to close all the way. Inside your mind yelled one thing, ‘go slack’. You slowly released your hands from the rope dangling with the rest of you. Soon after stopping any movement despite your body wanting to. You felt a pressure in the back of your eyes. The lack of sufficient oxygen making you feel like you were spinning. And the growing pain radiating around your neck was something you’ve never felt before. Like you were dying.
Negan had been talking throughout you struggling. But you hadn’t the mind to listen. It was Daryl’s sobs you recognized. He sounded like he was getting pulled away with the sounds of a heavy door slamming. A flash of light came through the bag on your head, click of a camera soon followed after. Negan talked again before you felt gravity pull you again. He had cut you down. You flopped to the floor like a sack of potatoes. You felt the wind get knocked out of you. Whatever wind you had left anyways. It took you a second before your first real breath came to you. But you try to remain still, to play possum.
You still remained there on the floor, yelling in your mind to stay awake. Coming up with anything to remain conscious like, math problems or names of your childhood pets. You had the feeling like you were on choppy water. Swaying back and forth on a boat. The deafening silence pulled you from your mind. Maybe you had died? But you decided you needed to move.
Group POV
Everyone was still after the saviors left. The first shuffling of gravel was Glenn moving to his wife after snapping out of the shock. His movement snapping everyone out of it to. Maggie clung to him while sobbing, emotionally and physically distressed. The sound of groaning and raspy noises made them all turn to you. It was Rick who spoke, “She turned…” You body propped up on hands and knees. They looked on before it was Carl moved to put you down, everyone else had even yet to move before him. Carl only got a few steps before you pulled the bag off your head.
Everyone froze again. Your fist clenching around the rope still around your neck. The chocking noises and tears sounds as you struggle with moving, “Holy shit she’s still alive!” Aaron had ran past Carl to then kneel beside you. Removing the rope from you revealed a line of black and purple around your neck. The rest had made their quick approach to you in disbelief. You were clawing at anyone next to you, you were in pain and didn't know who to act other then to wither. One hand still to your throat. Your eyes were blood red and the noise you made while attempting to breathe was high and liquidy.
Sasha had moved up behind you looping her arms behind yours, “Quick we need to get her to Hilltop! Maggie to!” Michonne moving for your legs to carry you to a truck the saviors left. Glenn helping Maggie into the passengers seat. Eugene began to list facts about being hanged like, 'it takes 10-20 minutes before a person died. You had been hung by a 'suspension hanging' but the height you fell from wasn't sufficient enough. The Saviors lack of knowledge had saved your life.' It was mostly a nervous habit to provide the information, a sort of coping. He was watching Rick and Aaron put Abraham's body in the back on the truck bed.
Maggie yelled to support your head to Sasha who you laid onto. You were still fighting unconscious, tears streaming down your red eyes. Glenn slipped into the drivers seat. Maggie speaking out the windows, "We got her. Get back to Alexandria. Plan to kick those monsters in the ass." Just like that they were off to hilltop.
The rest stood to see the car go off into the distance. Still shaken but the littlest bit more relieved you hadn't died in the worse way imageable in front of them. When they finally got back in the RV to go back home Rick just couldn't help but spot the noose on the ground from the review.
Daryl had no clue about you getting back up from that monstrous act.
Part 2
Feedback welcome and requests always open and encouraged!
(If you or a loved one are suffering and having thoughts of suicide please seek help. You are wanted and loved. Its cheesy but true when people say it gets better.)
#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#daryl fanfiction#daryl imagines#daryl x female reader#daryl x reader#norman reedus#twd daryl#angst#fluff
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RECIPROCATION // e. berkshire
RATING: R / 3.7K WORDS
Enzo Berkshire x Reader Insert (No gender-specific details)
+ SUMMARY - *Requested (based on this)* Enzo Berkshire has a tendency to flirt with you. You reciprocate the flirtation, thinking that he genuinely may like you, but that hope is screwed up when he seems to be flirting with another person.
+ WARNINGS - Language, kissing, nothing else really, not fully proof-read (Fluff, Romance)
+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -
As Long As You Love Me - Sleeping At Last
(Note: I am very sorry for the sudden delay in all of my writing. To be quite honest, I started a new job and got into a car crash this week and haven't been writing at all. Please accept this request, and I will have pt. 5 of By the Fireplace out ASAP)
---
“Hey, darling, wait up!”
The voice came from behind you. You pivoted on your heels, stopping right in your tracks on your way to Defense Against Dark Arts, and glanced around. Your eyes circled the hallway until they landed on a waving hand attached to a grinning body. A smile spread over your lips as you recognized the voice's owner. Lorenzo Berkshire. Handsome, funny, old-money rich, with a side of infamy due to his frightening family.
He stopped before you, panting slightly from the jog up to you. His face was a bit flushed, and his lips were parted with a bit of shine spread over them. He looked absolutely breathtaking. You nearly had to steady yourself as he combed his fingers through his hair.
“Well, hello, Berkshire. Are you on your way to class as well?” You turned back the way you were initially heading and started off, beckoning for him to follow. He gave a slight nod, never dropping his glorious smile.
“Yeah, I spotted you on my way out of the courtyard and figured I’d walk with you,” he said, “it’d give me a chance to see my favorite person.” Your stomach flushed. Favorite person? You could have fainted.
“Well, I’m glad you wanted to walk with me,” you smiled, clutching your books tightly against your chest.
Enzo had always been an enormous flirt—specifically toward you. You’d be lying if you said you minded it; after all, the boy was absolutely gorgeous and practically everything you could ever want out of a romantic partner. He oozed radiance and dripped sex. Damn it. Your eyes watched as he jogged ahead of you to grab the door to the classroom, the muscles along his forearm rippling wonderfully. Merlin’s sake, he looked like he belonged on the cover of a Muggle romance novel.
You flashed him your best smile and slipped through the door, watching as he followed quickly behind you.
The two of you had been friends for a very long time—almost since first year, to be exact. Halfway through second year, the two of you had been paired together for a project in Potions class, and not only had you succeeded in working together flawlessly, but you’d also grown really close. He had always been a good friend to you, no matter what you needed. He was, quite honestly, more than you deserved. But, on the darker side of things, as he grew older, he grew quite flirty. At every turn, he was tracing you with his eyes or making a quick quip about your eyes or your clothing. It was more than you could handle on some days. Your platonic feelings toward him had very quickly become romantic feelings.
You selected your usual seat in the classroom and kicked the chair beside you out so Enzo could take his place next to you. You mentally prepared yourself for a whole period of brushing elbows, skimming shoes, and knowingly glancing at each other. Why wouldn’t he just admit he liked you already? There was apparent tension between the two of you—even other people had caught on. So why couldn’t he just admit it? Granted, you could say the same for yourself.
Once the Professor had settled everybody in and started with the lecture, you saw Enzo begin to rummage through his bag slowly, trying not to disturb anyone. One hand held the fabric pocket open while the other selected his class journal and his ink kit. You’d already had your things set out by now, but you figured he was just a little behind, per usual. Not that it was a bad thing. It was sort of endearing.
Through glances out of the corner of your eye, you saw him flip his journal open, collect a generous amount of ink on the tip of his quill, and begin to write. The soft scratches of the quill’s tip tickled the edges of your ear, sending a line of chills down your arm. There was only a tiny amount of information written on the board so far, so he should have no trouble keeping up.
After a few minutes of continuous scratching, Enzo’s elbow gently bumped yours. Discreetly, you looked over at him and scrunched your eyebrows in silent question. He gestured with his head to the small folded paper beside me. How odd, you hadn’t even heard him tear it out. You quietly placed your quill into its ink well and slipped the note between your stomach and the desk to conceal the message from the professor.
Have I mentioned that you are looking absolutely ravishing today? Your jaw nearly dropped. With wide eyes, you looked over at him. A smug smirk was printed on his face as he sent an addicting wink your way. You tried your hardest not to blush, but, of course, you’d failed. Must he always be this…severe? You flipped the note over to the other side and wrote: I think this letter was meant for someone else. Unless you have something to tell me? You passed it back. He wrote quickly.
Of course not, darling. Just that you are the most beautiful person in this room. In attempted controlled laughter, the two of you shouldered the other. You knew he was joking, but still, you quietly slipped the paper into your bag. Something about those words in his handwriting directed to you had you blushing. You both returned to your note-taking for the class.
A few moments of comfortable silence passed before you noticed Enzo’s shoulder shaking with silent laughter. You looked over briefly, seeing a note in his hands. You thought it may have been the same one the two of you had been communicating on before you remembered that you had put that one in your bag. A closer glance revealed that Enzo’s handwriting was on the paper, as was someone else’s. You didn’t recognize the penmanship. You leaned a bit closer, careful not to disturb him as he read the note.
Have you considered who you will invite to the winter formal? A question to Enzo. Then, his response. I’ve thought long and well about it, darling. Your heart clenched. You flicked your eyes around the room, trying to guess who had sent the note, and landed on some girl from Hufflepuff giggling to her friend and occasionally casting glances at a smirking Enzo. Her eyes caught yours, and you quickly dropped the contact, returning to your notes. Was Enzo taking one of them to the formal? Because you’d honestly thought…never mind.
Your fingers subconsciously tightened around your quill; so tight, in fact, that your knuckles bled white and the end of its feather creased.
“Woah,” Enzo laughed, “what did that quill ever do to you?” His voice snapped you out of your internal rage. Tendrils of guilt and jealousy spiraled around your throat.
“Nothing, just tired,” you lied, releasing your death grip on the quill and returning to your work. You ignored him for the rest of class, completely missing the nervous glances he threw you every so often.
By the end of the lecture, you’d packed your things as quickly as possible and headed out the door, not bothering to wait for Enzo to catch up. Perhaps it was childish, but you really thought he might have had feelings for you. But it seemed that the natural flirtation may just be part of his personality.
You blew a sigh through your lips and pushed a hand through your hair. Surely, there was an explanation as to why he seemed to prefer you to other students. He never followed those Hufflepuff girls around like he did you. Or did he? Maybe you just hadn’t seen him doing it. You suppressed the urge to let out a groan. Why couldn’t romance and crushes and love be simple?
You headed toward the Great Hall to stock up on a bit of lunch; there was no way in hell you were eating in there today. With your luck, you’d crash right into Enzo and have him demand why you stormed out of class. Not that he’d demand anything. He was always so gentle with you…no, shut up. You weren’t going to think about him anymore today. You need to forget about it and focus on studying for your test in Potions today.
You were kind of absolutely terrible at the class and needed all the help you could get. More than once, you’d been tempted to write the answers on your hand and briefly turn them invisible with a simple spell, but you weren’t that low. You weren’t going to cheat. Enzo was good at Potions class. He could help—
“Ugh!” You pushed the boy out of your head as you turned into the Great Hall, conjuring a small cloth napkin. It fell into your hand delicately and displayed itself evenly as you began to pack a few things onto it—a bit of cheese, some grapes, a muffin. You smiled to yourself as your stomach rumbled. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until just now. All of this worrying about He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named-Jr. (not the noseless one) had your stomach clawing for some sustenance.
You scooped all of the food together and tied a small knot into the napkin, slipping it into your cloak pocket. One of the goblets you’d gotten from your birthday last year appeared before you, and you poured some pumpkin juice into it. You wouldn’t take one of their goblets because you knew you’d forget to return it. Wandlessly, you sent it back to your dormitory.
You turned and headed toward the grand doors, eyes toward the ground. You whisked across the stone floors, focusing on one thing only: getting back to your dorm without bumping into any…unmentionables.
A few familiar voices swirled around you as they passed by. You tucked your head even more, realizing it was a few of Enzo’s friends. You were friendly with them and knew they’d say something and draw attention to you if they recognized you. You prayed they wouldn’t notice.
And just as you had ducked your head once more and pulled the edges of your cloak over your face, you ran straight into a solid wall of Slytherin boy. You grunted from the impact and braced for the fall on your ass when he caught you quickly and steadied you. You didn’t need to look up to know who it is. You’d know his scent anywhere.
Swallowing your pride, you glanced up and made quick eye contact with Enzo. His eyebrows were furrowed in concern, and his eyes flickered over your face. You figured he was searching for some answer to your behavior earlier. You sighed and shook your head slightly, dropping the eye contact. The fingers from his left hand tightened around your arm, and his right hand tilted your head to return his gaze to yours. Embarrassed, you jerked your head out of his grasp and pushed past him.
Your legs moved faster than they had in a long while as you practically ran up to your dorm, trying to restrain the tears pooling in your eyes. That was quite literally the most embarrassing thing to have ever happened to you. Whether it was your imagination or not, you’d thought that the people around the two of you had completely silenced themselves and had been watching you. Your cheeks burned in shame. Curse this stupid crush.
Once you come upon the entrance to the Slytherin common room, you quickly speak the password and swipe a few falling tears from your cheeks. You prayed that no one was seated in the common room lest you fully die of mortification. Surely, Enzo had just been doing that because of his usual flirtatious behavior. Nothing else explains why he would have touched you like that. So gently and easily as he reconnected your eyes. The way he had looked at you as he held you tightly to keep you from falling. His lips had parted with a small exhale that had danced across your cheeks, cool and smelling of sweet mint. His thumb had brushed the surface of your chin, daring you to place your lips on it. Fuck!
You pushed through your dormitory door and pressed your hands to your face. You collapsed onto your bed, a small sob leaving your body. Fuck, you were so ashamed. Everything about Enzo swirled around your brain just as it did every day. Every detail of his face was sharp and gorgeous as if carved by Merlin himself. The curve of his lips, the tilt of his cheekbones, the way his hands seemed to always lay upon you somehow. Whether it was tilting your chin up to force your eyes back to his or pressing a hand along the small of your back to lead you forward, it didn’t matter what he was doing. All of it made the rate of your breath increase substantially. Every piece of him made up the strokes of your dreams. You were absolutely in l—
Your name cut your thoughts off. Enzo slammed through the dormitory door, eyes frantic and wild, darting around the room. When they fell upon you as you lay curled up, pitiful and sobbing, in your bed, he pushed the door shut and sped over to you. He squatted down beside the bed until his eyes were level with yours. You refused to look at him. His eyes never left you. As always, he never backed down, while you did so easily. He was so much better than you.
His hand slowly raised above your head that was pressed into the mattress. Your eyes watched him as he moved, and as he reached the edge of your skull, he let it hover there. You glanced up at him in question, and his eyebrows raised. You nodded. His hand gently laid against the side of your head, slowly rolling his thumb from the tip of your eyebrow to your hairline. It was soothing, and his hands were soft and warm. You felt safe beneath his large grip.
“What happened?” he whispered, eyes searching yours. “Was it something I did or said? If it was something that I caused, we can talk about it. I promise I’ll fix—”
“It’s not you, En,” you interrupted, your voice crackling beneath the weight of your pathetic tears. You were mortified. “It’s me, I guess I just…I just thought…” The words refused to leave your mouth. Your eyes closed in frustration.
“You thought what? Tell me,” he whispered, scooting his face closer to yours, his thumb never stopping its calming motion.
“It’s stupid,” you whined.
“No, it’s not,” he replied, “it’s making you upset. I want to fix it…did someone do something to you?” You shook your head. The culprit of your current emotional status was none other than yourself.
“I wanted you to ask me to the formal,” you winced in embarrassment, “and I got upset that you’re asking that girl in Defense instead…” His eyes widened for a moment, and he said nothing. My God, this was the worst day of your life. Your eyes welled up with tears at the possibility of verbal rejection. “God, I know I sound like a toddler, whining like this, but I really like you, En.”
“You don’t sound like a toddler,” he said. His face moved even closer to yours. You could feel his breath on your face now and count each individual eyelash. His eyelids were half-closed now, an air of intimacy spinning between the two of you. “I like you too…a lot.”
The pitch of his voice pushed a shiver through you. The feeling of acceptance brushed through you quickly, elating your heartbeat. Enzo liked you back? Fuck, Enzo liked you back. Your eyes refused to leave his, now. Your heart pounded in your ears, echoing against the back of your skull.
“I…” you breathed, your voice trailing off. Could you even get the words out? Your breath shuddered as his hands slid down the top of your head to pinch your chin again. He held you in place, his fingers so warm against your skin. His thumb brushed slowly over your top lip.
“Can I kiss you?” he breathed. Each exhale from his lips painted the edges of your jawline, teasing longing out of you. Enzo wanted to kiss you. You wanted to kiss him so badly. You slowly nodded your head.
Then his fingers weren’t so easy as he pulled himself roughly to your face. His lips crashed against yours, clacking your teeth together. You gasped into his mouth as he stood and slipped onto the bed over you, never once separating your lips. Your heart felt as though it was going to explode. You weren’t sure if you could handle this feeling.
Your fingers tightened in his smooth hair, reveling in the feeling of the delicate strands. He sighed against your lips as the motion tugged at his scalp. Every feeling, every touch, every brush of his lips was almost too much for you to accept. Your chest rose heavily at the feeling, your heart thrashing against your rib cage. You were sure if he kept on, with him caressing every inch of the inside of your mouth, you’d faint.
You jerked away from him, pushing yourself out from under him and against your headboard.
“I’m sorry. Was that too far?” he immediately spoke. His hair was tousled, his cheeks were flushed, and his lips were swollen. He looked absolutely ethereal. The air entered and left his chest at a rapid pace. His fingers nervously closed around your blanket.
“No!” you practically screamed. “It wasn’t too far…I thought my chest was going to burst.” You chuckled breathlessly, pressing a shaking hand against your heart. You had dreamed of that feeling for months, and getting to experience it so suddenly had you reeling. Enzo was flawless, and every aspect of his perfect being was pushing your shattered self back together. He was more than just a crush.
“I’m sorry, I’m a bit embarrassed,” you laughed.
“Me too,” he smiled sheepishly, “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time; I suppose I was a bit too eager.” Fuck, he was perfect.
“You’ve wanted to kiss me for a long time?” He looked at you as if you were slow. As if his following words were the only possible response that could have come out of his mouth.
“Of course I have,” he laughed, “have I not been terribly obvious? I thought it was easy to see that I’ve been utterly in love with you for the last year.” Your lips fell apart in shock.
“You…love me?”
“Yes,” he breathed. His eyes flickered down to your lips once again. Everything in your body urged you to touch him again, to feel his lips on yours, but you wanted more information.
“But, why?” you laughed.
“Why? Oh, you have no idea. I am in love with you. You are the most perfect person I have ever met—” his hands removed themselves from the blankets to press to either side of your face—“your personality, your humor, your mind, everything about you makes my heart swell. When you look at me, when you walk next to me, when your arms would brush me in class…those small gestures have always been enough to sustain a deep desire to be loved by you.”
“En—”
“If you do not reciprocate those feelings, that is okay. I’m not going to force you to feel anything toward me. The feeling of that kiss was enough, and if you asked me never to speak to you again…it would be the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I will do it, knowing that I told you my true feelings. The feeling of your lips on mine has renewed me forever.”
“Fuck,” you sobbed. The two of you laughed as tears welled in your eyes. The impact of Enzo’s words had hit you like a train, burrowing deep into the vessels of your heart. You never knew someone could be capable of loving in a way such as that, let alone the recipient of that love being you. And to think that he wasn’t even sure if you loved him back. To think he said all of that, not knowing if he’d ever feel the same thing in return. It was enough for the tears to begin sliding down your cheeks.
“Please don’t cry,” he whispered. His thumbs gently brushed the liquid away from your cheeks. A small smile was plastered on his face, and his eyes were easy and comforting.
“En,” you sobbed, your voice shaking, “of course I love you back. That’s why I was so upset earlier. I’ve loved you for so long. All I think of is you…I have to push you from my thoughts to get anything done.” The two of you laughed quietly.
“I’m that distracting?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow teasingly. You rolled your eyes and nodded, the smile refusing to leave your lips. Your cheeks ached beneath the pull of the grin, but nothing was going to pull it away from you. You were much too happy for that.
He pulled your body against him, cradling your head lovingly against his chest as your arms wrapped around his waist. He smelled sweet and familiar, his heartbeat pushing slightly against your cheek. The feeling of him pressed against you was more than you ever could have hoped for. His strong arms held you tightly in place, warding off anything that could ever get to you. Within Enzo’s hold, you felt like you could survive anything as if his body was energizing you. The love surging through your veins slipped against his, eternally binding them together. You were Enzo’s, and he was yours; that was all you’d ever hoped for. The universe had been particularly kind today. You smiled, your eyes slipping closed.
“I love you,” he whispered, his lips pressed into your hair. You took a moment to relish in the feeling of having someone say that to you, of having him say that to you. It felt so perfect.
“I love you too, En.”
#fanfiction#creative writing#fanfic#writing#reader insert#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#oneshot#slytherin#lorenzo berkshire#enzo berkshire#gender neutral reader#request#fluff
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wicked • 17
↳ Summary: In a desperate hope to stop war from breaking you are a serviced to wed the most vile man alive, the one who has committed atrocities and war crimes beyond comprehension, he who is responsible for the fall of many nations, the wicked prince who’s heart is made of stone. You are to marry a man who challenges every belief and moral you stand for, all while being faced in a foreign land with nobody but yourself too trust…But are you both truly that different? Or is hate not too far from love?
↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader
↳ Genre: arranged marriage AU, enemies to lovers, it’s kind of a period AU??? Historical but also technically not? prince!AU, eventual smut
Word Count: 8k
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Note: it’s actually difficult to believe it’s been eight months since I’ve updated, went through two jobs, a friend group and a boyfriend who gaslit the absolute fuck out of me and made me experience female hysteria 😍 I wrote this chapter the night he broke up with me so it just has that nice little extra touch of ✨ intensity ✨ enjoy lovies and I will be back hopefully sooner then last time with another update
It felt wrong, packing a small case of clothes while so many things at the castle had yet to play out, and Wheein’s life was hanging in the balance of it.
You had no intentions to trudge your way to the barracks but here you were; early morning where all of the guards were training and the person you were looking for was watching them, hands on his hips as he called out to one of them to tighten their guard.
You hadn’t planned on talking to him today, but leaving without so much as saying a word felt wrong, and perhaps after everything that had happened you were searching for sober reassurance.
“Jungkook.”
Everybody froze at the sound of your voice, you ignored all the eyes on you, after having lived in Penumbra for almost a year, you had somewhere along the way gotten used to all of the eyes that constantly followed you.
The guards exchanged awkward glances with one another, Jungkook looked surprised by your appearance, eyes glancing over you as if you were a hallucination, but after a moment it was evident you weren’t going to disappear upon blinking.
He glanced between you and the guards before he waved them off, “Keep going.”
You couldn’t stand the hopeful look in his eyes, almost a bit bashful as you walked in line with him further away from the barracks, “How can you expect me to leave the castle when Wheein is in a dungeon? And furthermore sending your aunt to try and reconcile with me?”
Jungkook frowned, “Well I doubted you wanted to see me after my drunk display- which truth be told I hardly remember anything I said, and It’s probably for the best that I don’t, Y/n…” He sighed as he stopped, “It was only a suggestion, it crossed my mind about the estate because truthfully I think you would like it there, and it would be safe,” His hands tenderly grabbed your shoulders as your lips curled in anger but you said nothing, “And I think it would be good for you to put all of this out of your head for a few days. I’ll continue to handle things here and if things change with Wheein trust that I’ll be able to take care of it.”
Your expression didn’t change as Jungkook frowned, “I would also like to remind you that she’s been one of my closest friends since I was a child. You’re not the only one who cares for her.”
You begrudgingly looked away from him but your expression softened, a stab of guilt surging through your stomach at the realization that he was very much right, “I know, I’m sorry I just-”
“Don’t be,” Jungkook replied, “You have a mean bite but I can appreciate your loyalty. I can’t undo the past but I want to make things right. I…” Jungkook paused, looking hesitant his eyes darting away from you and then back to you once more.
You offered no words forcing him to sigh, as if it was difficult for him to admit, “I want to be with you Y/n, not as two people amicable due to marriage or friends on uneasy terms…” He bit down on his cheek, unable to hold your steely gaze as his hand hesitantly reached out, tenderly stroking along your jawline, “I want more than that with you, I want all of the fire and all of the rage, I want the pain, the hardships. I want you, all of you, every flaw that makes you, you.”
You hadn’t even realized your eyes had blurred until his thumbs were tenderly pushing your tears away, “Is this a declaration?”
“It’s a promise.” Jungkook’s eyes held such a softness in them filled with something you still felt uncertain to assume, “You told me that you wanted to bear the deepest parts of yourself to me, all of your insecurities, the parts you don’t like about yourself, the parts you may even hate, so I am standing here to tell you to show me, show me all of it, and I will still take you as you are.”
He was saying many overwhelming words to you, but you knew he was dancing around the most important word, you could see it in his eyes, how it lingered on the tip of his tongue.
But something was stopping him from truly confessing it.
Perhaps even after all of these months, it was still too soon.
Evidently so given your circumstances.
“I don’t want you away from me,” Jungkook admitted, a frown slowly forming on his lips, “But if that’s what it takes, I would wait a lifetime if it meant your forgiveness, if it meant a second chance to be with you.”
“Is that why you’re willing to send me away?” You sniffled, “Otherwise you’ll continue to drink and wake me up in the middle of the night?”
“It wasn’t my finest moment,” Jungkook gave a weak smile, “But you can’t deny it got my point across didn’t it?”
Just his smile made something in you crumble, a vast desire to embrace him here and to forgive him, surely you could put this all behind you…?
But a bigger part of you didn’t want to rush this, you didn’t want to be complacent anymore, that was how you got into this situation, how you immediately jumped to Claudin’s offer rather than confide in the person you were married to.
It was such a raw feeling, you could feel it licking at your very soul, trying to tame your desire to throw all caution to the wind once more.
And for a brief moment you could feel Jungkook have the same reaction as you, as if it took every fiber in his being to not beg you to stay, you don’t know if you could stand your ground against him again if he came on as strong as he had last night.
“Just for a few days.” You whispered out as he frowned, giving you an understanding nod.
“You’ll love it there.” His hands finally let go of you, somewhat reluctantly.
And then it was silent for a long moment, tension still lingering in the air and both of you clearly hesitant.
“Then…I’ll see you in a few days.” You mumbled and Jungkook nodded once more. It felt like the ground was trying to engulf your feet as you turned around, feeling oddly empty at your goodbye, waiting for something that wouldn’t come.
What was it you had hoped for? A hug…?
Maybe a kiss…?
But then again, it felt as though you were no longer deserving of those things, Jungkook may have done things to hurt you but you had also done things to hurt him, how could you both love one another if you couldn’t trust one another first?
You wished Jungkook had reached out for you, to at least give you some form of affection before leaving, but he also knew this was true, and let you leave with no grief.
It left you feeling empty inside, but this was for the best.
You journeyed over horseback for the day, trying to leave your fretting heart behind as you nervously glanced back at the far away sight of the castle, what if something developed with Wheein?
You felt as though you were betraying her just by leaving, more than anything you were desperate to get her back, perhaps that was why Jungkook was sending you away, as if he sensed your desperation would only heighten the longer this went on.
Dare you say, he feared the worst might happen if you stayed.
Your grip tightened on your reigns, once more trying to put it out of your mind, taking a deep breath you took in the heady scent of the pine tree’s the surrounded you, the Estate was much closer to the mountains then you had anticipated, by midday you had journeyed far enough that snow had already reached the ground.
“Are you nervous?” Yoongi had slowed his horse down to ride next to you, his eyes however still scoured ahead for possible danger.
“What do you mean?” You frowned as you glanced at his back, hearing a branch snap as your eyes darted towards the left of him.
Your faithful companion Fenrir having accidentally broke the branch he had been carrying in his mouth the past hour he had grown fond of, a whine leaving him in disappointment as he picked up the bigger side.
“Journeying away from the castle during these trying times…” Yoongi glanced back at you, a frown of his own, “It can’t be easy leaving with everything that’s happened.”
You didn’t reply for a long moment, Yoongi slowed down to ride beside you as he curiously took in your expression.
It was silent for a long moment before you finally relented, “It is difficult, but…After a long night, I figured this was probably best. It seems like my involvement in things only tends to make them worse. And truthfully there's no telling what lengths I’d go to at this point to get Wheein back.”
“Oh?” Yoongi looked curiosity once more, “I didn’t realize you had such a taste for danger.”
His joke made a smile finally tug on your lips, “Neither did I before coming to Penumbra. It seems this kingdom has a way of bringing out the primitive nature in me. But then again, it seems people have always looked down on me when I think of it.”
“On you?” Yoongi scoffed in amusement, “Dryad Matron of Eunoia? It’s difficult to believe, you’re like a pillar of light to the commonwealth of Penumbra, it used to drive the Prince nuts during your engagement.”
“It did…?” You peered somewhat hesitantly at him.
This made Yoongi grin, “Oh yes, when news of your engagement first broke out it had the people ecstatic, it had him gagging every second he heard good things of you.”
“This is hardly making me feel better…” You winced, though a small part of you was amused to hear this, though you wish you could say the same.
It always seemed to you that people in Penumbra didn’t fully grasp just how much people feared them on the outside world, instead poking fun at the titles they had earned as if it was a little joke.
The whole two years of your engagement are two years you’d rather die then live through again, the anxiety that kept you up at night, the endless amounts of tears you cried, the emptiness it left inside you how no one even tried to comfort you.
Looking back you understood, nobody wanted to feed you lies to comfort you, but at the time, you didn’t understand, it felt cruel.
“Not everyone feels that way about me, evidently from what I saw in the Underside.” You replied, somewhat reminiscing on the horrendous memory of the mock version of you.
“You shouldn’t pay that any mind,” Yoongi scoffed, “The humor is juvenile there, everything it stands for is juvenile, even it’s name; the Underside was a joke, a mockery meant for every royal that has to say it’s name with seriousness, point being- they don’t respect anyone who won’t give them money.”
You only shook your head, “It’s not just that though, there has always been a small part of people and court alike who haven’t liked me, even long before I was engaged to Jungkook. I was known for having a temper,” It made you smile wryly, “-The Bitch of Eunoia, that’s what they ran around calling me behind my back. It was horrendous in Kimhae.”
“Was it now?” Yoongi looked amused by this, “That in some ways does, and doesn’t surprise me.”
“The court ladies in Eunoia often liked to call me that as well. But it was very pronounced by Kimhae court men. When I was younger, I used to wear traditional Eunoian attire when i’d visit. Apparently shoulders and knee’s used to drive them crazy. I had one of the aristocrats boldly ask me if I was an exotic woman of the night, willing to pay for me.”
Yoongi’s jaw had dropped making you laugh as he gestured you on, “What did you say?”
“Something along the lines of calling him a perverted old man whom ought to have his loins cut off for making such a comment to a women- let alone a Princess.” The memory made you smile as you shook your head, “The Bitch of Eunoia…why is it men are allowed to be angry Yoongi? Why is it women are shamed so?”
Yoongi let out a hum, “This is indeed a good question, but perhap it’s because they know a woman's scorn could even bring heaven out of the sky. I’m not all too surprised about Kimhae- but you said Eunoians called you this as well?”
Your smile became saddened, “By many court ladies yes,” You scratched your cheek in thought, “I was always lonely as a child…the war took a toll on me, I was temperamental and childish. But the court ladies as children, also liked to mock me and egg me on. As we grew older they grew closer and I still stayed a distance away. They’d find any reason to pick me apart or give me more work to do. They were practically leaping for joy when the news broke that I was engaged.”
“Why do you think that was though?” Yoongi asked, “That they didn’t like you?”
You shrugged, you had never really thought about it much, rather you preferred to keep the past where it was rather then dwell on it, “I suppose it had a lot to do with the fact that while we were all training to be healers I excelled more at it, it came naturally to me and they ended up putting me in the tents before the others. They all assumed it was from favoritism…Maybe it was,” You pondered on this briefly, “I just remember thinking it wasn’t fair.”
“Fair?”
You didn’t elaborate on the word for a long moment, feeling something akin to guilt bubble in your stomach.
You glanced off into the distance where the mountains towered high, it made you feel so tiny in comparison to its greatness, and briefly you felt awe.
You always admired nature, how vast it was compared to you and all your humanly troubles, you turned to it and it’s kin when you needed comfort and in these moments you could turn to it when you were also troubled with words.
It was difficult to adequately explain to people the rage you had felt since you were a child, anger had always been in your bones, from the moment you were born. Your mother used to tell you, that when she gave birth, you had come out of her womb with a roaring cry.
You craved to be vulnerable, to be soft and tender, to be all the things you were not, and you were many things, just not those.
Many people people heard you, they just never listened, didn’t understand.
“I had a lot of resentment as a child, to everything, the war, my parents, our country. I didn’t want to be a healer, I didn’t want to have to watch people in my care die, I didn’t want to attend the burnings or hear the whales of agony and pain, the cries of mourning, the people who blamed me for not being able to save their loved ones.”
You would be lying if you said you didn’t feel haunted by those memories, watching the lifeforce leave someone's body as you tried to stop the bleeding, the maimed limbs and mangled bodies that were beyond your skill or help.
“I didn’t want to be made to go past our lesson times to keep studying, or made to go back in to practice when all the other girls were allowed to play. Or put in a tent over night while they all slept. It wasn’t fair.”You mumbled, perhaps still a lingering tone of resentment.
The past was the past, it couldn’t be changed, you had come to terms with this, but if you stopped and really thought about it, old feelings old eventually begin to resurface, it was why you tried so desperately to just forget about it.
At one time you blamed Penumbra, you hated it’s people for what they did, what they caused.
But then you married Jungkook and you journeyed here yourself, and saw with your own eyes, that these people, were simply people, who were also victims of their own royalty.
You felt the soft grip of a hand on your shoulder, “I am sorry, for what it’s worth,” Yoongi held a face of sympathy, “We all felt the same, or…I suppose a mutual feeling on the opposite side of things. Children being forced to enlist into a war we didn’t want to wage with little choice…”
You gently grabbed his hand giving it a small squeeze, a weak smile on your face, “It wasn’t fair for any of us. We’re all a bi-product of our parents' sins. It’s up to us now to break that cycle.”
You had arrived to the estate by nightfall and it was shrouded in tall pine and fir trees, the aroma had you closing your eyes for a moment to savor it, just as Jungkook said, it truly was beautiful.
Snow covered the ground in a few inches, and a chill was left in your bones, but you settled in rather nicely, Yoongi had managed to get a fire going rather quickly and it was quiet in the solitude of the estate.
For once, it was nice to be able to breathe without being watched.
The first two days had went by surprisingly quick, but you had found a natural rhythm in nature, you went on long peaceful walks, kept yourself wrapped in a blanket while sitting on the terrace taking in the crisp cool air.
You had even spent the evening watching the snowfall outside, enchanted at how it came in big fluttering puffy balls, you had heard of snow before, but you had never actually seen it fall from the sky, like a thousand little gifts from the heavens.
It was dull and gray out today, the same as it had been for the last week now, at the estate was unsurprisingly no different.
Today however you had Yoongi set up some haybales in the pit area where guards would typically be trained, it was run down now, old boxes used as storage had been broken down and were hazardously strewn everywhere, long nine inch rusty nails sticking out of wooden pieces at razor sharp jagged angles.
But with Yoongi’s help you both had piled it up safely away and got a decent bit of space ready for training.
“Too stiff-”
“Ah!”
It was a second too late, you had already released the string, sending the arrow flying, it had veered off target as the string slapped your forearm with a sharp snap causing you to drop it.
Fenrir suddenly popped up from the ground where he had been laid out the last half hour, head cocked in concern at the noise that escaped you.
“How many times do I have to tell you,” Yoongi groaned, “You can’t hold it with a stiff arm! Look at this!” He got up from his spot as he held up your arm by the wrist, “It looks like somebody gave you a lashing! Jungkook will have my head if it isn’t heal by tomorrow.”
Your lips twisted into a sulky pout, “I am trying!”
“Not hard enough that’s the fifth time within the hour,” Yoongi whistled out as he let you go, Fenrir walking up to you as he sniffed your hand, giving it a lick before nudging it.
You rubbed your forearm, that was undeniably sore and throbbing with pain before placing your hand on Fenrir’s head to give it a nice long rub.
He had grown remarkably big in the last month, almost as big as you now, just a five or six inches shorter, it made you give a sad frown, at how big he was and soon he’d become a monstrous size…
You’d simply have to build a bigger stable you supposed.
“Aim comes naturally but holding a weapon does not,” You sighed as you placed both your hands on Fenrir’s head, now giving him generous rubs and pats that had him giving a toothy puppy grin that made you smile, “I’ve practiced here and there with a bow but with everything going on, I just haven’t made it a priority.”
Yoongi sighed, “Natural ability will only get you so far, discipline if a far greater advantage Princess, thankfully we can start working on this daily, I think it’d be good for you to have a hobby.”
“I have hobbies.” You frowned as crossed your arms.
“Such as…?” Yoongi gestured.
“Well…” You could think of several as a matter of fact, but you had given them all up once you had moved to Penumbra, the thought made you frown in realization, you had been so caught up in all the highs and lows of your new life that it was true.
You had hobbies, you just never participated in any of them.
“I suppose it would do me some good to work on it,” You sighed as you relented, “I still feel a tad guilty though, shouldn’t I be honing my skill in swordsmanship? Jungkook once told me that it’s expected the Crowned Prince and Princess are supposed to be the best at it.”
“Well…” Yoongi stretched the word, “This is true but, I don’t think somebody is going to fault you for not being the best at it. I’d like to think it’s an expectation from those born in Penumbra, not those who marry in. Not only this but if you are inclined to another form of weaponry, then it’s as simple as that.
“As long as you have some form of sword training then it’ll do,” Yoongi shrugged, “What matters is personal protection, some training is better then none, but having a form of training you’re good at is even better.”
“You Penumbrian’s certainly like taking precautions.” You sighed wistfully as you picked up your bow once more.
“The more the better,” Yoongi said, “Guards are great, but what happens when you’re caught without any? Learning to defend yourself is vital.”
You glanced down at your bow, “I understand but…”
“But?” Yoongi asked.
“Well, I suppose a part of me just feels odd,” You replied, “I grew up being taught to save lives, not take them,” You rubbed your neck in uncertainty, “When I took the Dryad’s oath, it was a promise to myself and my ancestors that I would abstain from our carnal nature. That I would never take a life nor would I consume its flesh. Animal or human. Even though the chances of me having to defend myself in such a way are so low, it’s odd to train for it, after taking that oath and living by it my whole life.”
Yoongi let out a small smile, “Then don’t view it as such.”
“What do you mean?” You tilted your head.
“Sword play is considered an art form in Penumbra, you can view a bow in the same light. It’s quite a beautiful thing really, it’s not just aiming and shooting, it’s how you hold it, the type of arrow you use, the weight of your feet. A lot goes into it.”
You thought on this for a while before nodding, “I suppose you are right.”
“Min Yoongi! I’m looking for a Min Yoongi?”
A voice called out that had you both glancing around the courtyard before seeing the courier at the gates glancing around before meeting his gaze.
“Yes?” Yoongi called out, walking up to meet him.
“I have a letter for you sire! It was urgent from the court” The courier dug through his bag before handing it to him, giving a short bow to you and then departing.
You glanced at it anxiously as you exchanged a look with Yoongi, was this about Wheein?
Yoongi opened the letter, reading it before he sighed,
“What, what is it?” You asked, anxiety in your voice.
“It’s not about Wheein,” You let out a breath in relief as Yoongi continued, “But it is a request for help.”
“What do you mean?” You asked.
Yoongi sighed, “There’s a watchtower just east of here, about an hour away give or take on horseback, apparently they’ve been dealing with a gang of bandits up there. Supposedly they’re going to siege the tower.”
“They can do that?” You asked in surprise.
Yoongi shrugged, “I suppose so, I don’t know what they think I can do about it.”
“Well you said you were an assassin before you became a knight? So surely that counts for something.” You said, setting down your bow on a lonely bale of hay.
Yoongi sighed as he folded the letter back up, “Even so, I won’t just leave you here by yourself.”
You frowned, “It’s only us here, and it’s secluded so I won’t be in any real danger, and you said it was only an hour away. I doubt you’d take long in taking them down.”
“Are you just trying to get rid of me?” Yoongi asked in mild amusement.
“I would never!” You said, “But I’d hate to see something unfortunate happen that could be prevented, you’re far closer then someone is to the castle. It would make the most sense for you to go.”
Yoongi sighed, “Even if I’m over cautious, it doesn’t sit right leaving you here all by yourself.���
“I wouldn’t be alone!” You replied, grinning as you gave Fenrir a solid pat, “Fenrir will defend me! Jungkook and I have been working on commands. Sit!”
Fenrir immediately complied.
“Very fierce.” Yoongi said dryly.
You held up a finger, grabbing a piece of wooden box that was free of any nails off the ground, “Fenrir,” He perked up at his name, “Attack!” You threw it causing his gaze to follow it with a loud snarling howl, his jaws crunching the board in half immediately grabbing the smaller end.
Running back to you before dropping down on his front paws, tail wagging as he tried to get you to chase him.
Yoongi looked a bit more startled at the thick board of wood that had been crushed as he nodded, “Okay, a little more fierce than before…” Yoongi thought about it for a long moment, “I suppose if I left now I would make it back by supper….Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
You gave him a small smile, “It’s only a few hours, I think I’ll be able to manage.”
Yoongi still seemed hesitant but he nodded, “I’ll go gather a few things then and be off. The sooner I leave the sooner I’ll be back.”
“It’s one night,” You smiled, “And then we’ll be back at the castle tomorrow.”
You had waved Yoongi off before you continued on with your day.
Spending another few hours training with your bow you had eventually given up once the string of your bow hit a particularly sensitive spot on your forearm.
The rest of your day had been spent taking walks along the trail’s with Fenrir before eventually settling inside, roaming the halls and exploring empty rooms.
And eventually the afternoon came.
But slowly the sun began to set and a vague feeling of dread followed along with it.
Yoongi…would’ve been back by now, right?
Or perhaps it took him longer to clear out the bandits.
You nodded at this as you stayed curled up in your large chair, Fenrir curled up beneath your feet as he let out a sigh, as if sensing your discomfort and unsatisfied with it.
Continuing to read, time went on and soon the sun had set.
You had managed to get a fire going on your own and had lit the candles in the hall, making the estate feel less consuming then it had before but it didn’t quell your anxiousness as the hour went on later.
Yoongi would certainly be back by now…
You were certain you’d manage the commute back to the castle if you had too but…You wouldn’t feel right just leaving without him, but you also had no way of sending a message to the castle for help without going back yourself.
You felt at a loss for what to do, as you roamed the main hall, pausing at the sound of the gate opening. Opening the doorway you hurried out to the courtyard.
“Yoongi, I’ve been waiting all day, you worried me sick!” You stopped short at the sight ahead of you.
“Not who you were expecting?”
Di Jin’s smug smile was the last thing you saw before the sudden blow to your head caused your vision to go dark.
“You look lost.” Jimin commented as he plopped in a seat right next to his dearest friend, both sat out for breakfast on the terrace.
“Was it a good idea sending her to the Estate?” Jungkook stared down in hard contemplation, his food untouched, “If something happens I won’t be able too…!”
He inhaled sharply as he forced himself to lean back in his chair, but despite the motion his body refused to relax.
You had left two days ago and he felt a void ever since.
Jungkook didn’t realize how much your presence had filled every inch of the castle until you had left, and now, he felt utterly useless, it was one thing for you to be mad at him, it was another for you to be gone.
Jimin looked amused but felt bad for him nonetheless, “Nothing is going to happen to her, the estate is nice and tucked away, the entire court has forgotten about it anyways, it hasn’t been used in years. You did a good thing.”
“Did I?” Jungkook finally slumped.
He had been constantly replaying his last memory of you, the conversation you both had before you left, the memory of you looking up at him for a long moment as if silently yearning for some form of affection.
It left Jungkook’s hands twitching and an unfamiliar ache in his chest, he couldn’t even describe how it felt. And he was honest when he spoke with you the night before, true he didn’t remember much, but what he did remember was straight from his heart, he thought he knew many things.
But after meeting you he found out quickly that he knew nothing at all.
Tomorrow, surely you’d be back tomorrow. You hadn’t given him an exact timeframe, but surely when you said a few days, you had meant no more then three?
“What if I-”
“No.” Jimin cut him off, “The whole point of her going was to get out of the castle and by default away from you. Not only that but what if something happened to Wheein while you were gone?”
Jungkook sunk back in his chair, that was right…He had promised you he would take care of anything that might possibly happen.
He wouldn’t let you down.
“Have you found any evidence yet?” Jungkook lowered his voice, his gaze lingering on the far side of the table where Claudin had been dining with a group of court ladies.
Jimin frowned, “Yes but the problem is getting it open,” He huffed, “I was able to slip into his room last night, it was empty but he has a lock box beneath a hollowed broken floorboard piece, seems he was in a hurry when he left, otherwise it wouldn’t have been left afar.
“Regardless I haven’t been able to crack the lock. Whatever is in there, it has a master’s lock on it. I’ll need at least another dozen picks before I even come close to cracking it.”
Jungkook sighed as he shook his head in disdain, “Of course when we need Yoongi he’s gone.”
Their elder would be able to open it within the hour if he was here.
Jimin frowned as well, “I’ll try again this afternoon.”
Jungkook’s eyes narrowed, “That’s early for you.”
“We’re running out of time Jungkook,” Jimin sighed, sinking back into his chair as well, eyeing Claudin with a certain wryness, “I keep hearing stirrings from the guards about how they’ve narrowed their search, but they’re hellbent on saying it was Wheein.”
“Sire,”
They both paused at the sight of Taehyun, a frown on his face as he glanced between them both, an anxious look as he bowed slightly, “It’s the council…they’ve summoned you. It doesn’t sound good, you should come as well Jimin.”
Jungkook glanced at his friend but said nothing as he stood up, not liking this one bit.
The walk to the throne room was swift and Jungkook wasted no time in arriving, the other council members had just arrived as well.
Clearly he wasn’t the only one uncertain of what was going on, other members had started hushing whispers to one another, all glancing in Jungkook’s direction occasionally as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed as he glanced at the empty throne the seats on its left occupied by his aunt and uncle whispering to one another.
They both glanced at him once before quickly looking away.
The tension felt suffocating and the longer it lasted the more anxious Jungkook felt, seconds turned into minutes and the whispers began to get louder.
And all within a moment, the doors open and a sweepingly silence took over the room save for the sound of boots against the ground. Dae Seong walked with confience in every step before standing before everyone on the throne.
“It is with confidence I have come to announce something of the utmost importance,” His voice boomed, “The attempted assassination on our Crowned Princess, was indeed committed by her maid Jung Wheein, we have reason enough to believe it was her as all the evidence points as such. Her form of punishment will be burning at the stake, tonight at the height of the moon. I ask you all join me on this divine distribution of punishment,”
Groaning softly your vision was blurry at first, and the first person to appear in your vision was not who you expected.
“Not so quick witted now are you Eunoian Bitch,” Seohyun sneered, her smirking figure beneath you as your vision of her doubled.
Your mind was confused as you only remembered Di Jin being here, your eyes closed briefly only for a sharp pain to spread through your side that you recognized as being kicked in the side by her.
Groaning your eyes opened and her eyes beaded, sneering at you as another voice spoke, “Come along now Seohyun, why don’t you go see if that insufferable knight has managed to come back yet, I will finish our business here.”
She eyed you warily but said no more as she left and soon Di Jin stood in front of you, “You have truly been a pain in my ass since I was enlisted to kill you, I only hope you realize that.”
There was no remorse in his eyes as he pulled the wickedly curved knife from it’s sheath and a sadistic smile curled on his face, “Don’t worry Princess, i’ll make sure you have a slow miserable death.”
Despite your sluggish movements, adrenaline had shot in your veins as you realized you were about to die, you had too much to live for still. You needed to see what would come of Eunoia, you needed to make sure Wheein was okay, that you would keep your promise to Jungkook.
You couldn’t die, and you would fight if it meant living to see it.
Your mind was slowly coming out of it’s haze as Di Jin stepped closer to you, realizing you were in the courtyard near the hay bales, the pile you had cleaned early next to you, your arm reached over to grab one of the planks, three long rusted nails sticking out of it.
You swung it with as much force as you could towards his legs, it made contact, the nail piercing his skin with a wet noise as he cried out in pain, falling back on the ground as he growled out. “You dumb bitch, a pain until the end!”
You attempted to crawl away, heart pounding in your ears as you scurried but he was still too mobile, yanking the plank out of his leg with a growl of pain as he managed to get on top of you, you caught his wrists as he attempted to plunge the knife in your throat, “I’ll enjoy watching the life leave your eyes. I’ll be sure to bring your head back for your little husband to see one last time.”
Your strength was already failing as you winced out, the knife slowly coming closer to your skin as you whimpered out as it pierced the first layer of your flesh.
It was an indescrible pain that had you yelping in pain,
“I’ll make these last few moments the most excruciating and perhaps if you beg me enough, I might just end your pathetic little life girl,” Di Jin grinned leaning in closer, “Maybe if you beg me more i’ll give you a little more than just a long death.”
He pushed the knife a little deeper as blood spilled from your skin making you cry out, his body weighing heavier on yours and his lips suddenly pressing to your ear, “Something tells me you’d prefer that over this.”
Something about his lips pressing against your skin lit something primal inside of you, every sense heightened inside you as your lips parted taking a wide bite into his neck, you could taste it first, the metallic flavor of blood running across your tongue and dripping down your throat and then his skin was next, uncomfortably soft and tender and next was the cartilage, it was rubbery and had hard bits in it, next was the sensation of something warm and wet against your face.
Di Jin could no longer properly speak, his grip suddenly loosened on the knife as you yanked the large chunk of flesh straight from his neck, grabbing the knife as you yanked it away shoving him down as you managed to get on top of him.
The chunk missing from his neck was ghastly, blood pooling on the ground, oozing everywhere and squirting from various places and he was gagging loudly, choking on his own blood.
Anger trembled in your body, it wasn’t enough, even with chunks of flesh missing and blood covering your face, skin hanging and cartilage visible it still wasn’t enough, before you could even think you plunged the knife into his neck, eyes blurring as you watched him gurgle, choking on his own blood as the life left his eyes.
Your hands were shaking as you waited for him to jump back to life to kill you, and then you slowly realized your vision was blurred from tears, your heart pounding as you took a shaky breath yanking the knife out of his neck before you let out blood curdling scream slamming it back in his neck again.
Jungkook’s betrayal.
Wheein being taken.
Exiled from your own kingdom.
Being forced to wed.
Made into a healer as a child.
Bone.
Blood.
Ash.
The mourning bells rang in your head and you could vividly taste the metallic on your tongue stronger than ever as the taste of raw flesh lingered in your throat.
Blood splattered upward as you stabbed the spot over again, all of the rage searing in your veins as Di Jin’s form became disfigured, his neck nearly separating his head from his body as you shoved the knife in deeper.
Hearing the wet gurgling noise as you heaved a breath, staring at his cold dead eyes staring back at you, the next scream was not your own, but it came closer within seconds before the door to the estate opened.
Seohyun was heavily bleeding from her left thigh, sporting a large bite as a loud snarl came from inside the door, shakily you stood up, “Fenrir, wait.”
The large wolf paused, and that's when you noticed the large gash on his leg, causing him to limp, rage quelled in your veins again as you limped over, Seohyun looked pale a ghost at the sight of you.
From the moment this woman met you, she had given you nothing but grief, attempted to humiliate you, belittle you, try to win a lost battle, attempt to kill you, and now she had hurt your precious companion.
Even with a mangled body behind you, it still wasn’t enough.
Tripping over her own two feet she fell down as you walked over, “We can talk about this Y/n!” Her eyes were as big as saucers, “Please! I’ll leave Penumbra and- and never come back.”
You felt nothing for her as you stood above her, watching pathetic tears drip down her face for a long moment, finally you knelt down, “If Penumbra has taught me anything Seohyun, It’s that some people do not deserve my forgiveness, nor my kindness.”
Her lips parted rapidly, her throat scratchy, and for the first time, you saw genuine fear in her eyes, “B-but you’re a Eunoian,”
Her words were pointed, bargaining, pleading even- if you listened close enough, “Eunoian’s don’t kill.”
Your lips slowly lifted into a joyless smile as you let out an uneasy laugh, “Well,” Your smile dropped, your hands were still shaky, unbridled rage still taunt in your veins.
The primal urge of need to prove her wrong, prove all of them wrong, that you would never again be looked down upon as weak or underestimated.
Your hand grabbed her neck, causing her to let out a choked sob as you squeezed it tight enough to choke her airway, yanking her nearly nose to nose with you.
“We’re not in Eunoia, are we?” Your nails dug into her neck, not stopping until you felt the blood from her skin oozing, you shoved her back before you stood up, ignoring her blubbering, tears trickling down her face as you walked away, “Fenrir.”
“Please!”
He let out a growl, “Attack.”
Her cries of agony were left of deaf ears as you walked back over to the corpse of Di Jin grabbing the knife from his neck and yanking it out before taking the sheath that went with it, adjusting it on your waist.
Collapsing on the ground away from him you noticed your hands for the first time, shaking, trembling as your vision blurred once more, scarred and covered in blood, just what had you done?
Fenrir’s mouth was covered in blood, but the whine didn’t escape your ears as he tenderly tried to sit down in front of you.
“I’m sorry.” You ushered, grief strong in your voice though uncertain of who it was for, yourself, your country, your companion, you reached out for him, gently rubbing your hand down his neck, “But we have a long journey ahead of us Fenrir.”
The bells were ringing and a somber air had taken over, Jungkook had nearly lost his entire wits, his father had banished him from the room, not wanting to hear another word from him about this.
Being told he was too sentimental fell on deaf ears, he didn’t care, it was his friend, it was injustice, it was corrupt. He hated it, he hated that despite being the crowned prince, his son, his father simply didn’t care.
All Jungkook could do was wait for Jimin to unlock this damn box. But it felt as though it was too late, he was banned from so much as leaving his room, guards at his door there to keep him boxed in but this wouldn’t stop him.
pulling the cloak over his head, he opened the window, the bricks were jagged and uneven enough that he could easily climb down, he did it often when he was younger, much to the blindness of his father.
Scaling the wall, Jungkook got down, feet planted firmly on the ground as he kept the hood over his head tight as he made his way to the courtyard. A crowd had gathered, all wanting to witness the supposed assassin.
Nobody paid mind to him with his identity concealed, it would be soon now. If he couldn’t get evidence to get Wheein out, then Jungkook would take matters into his own hand. He didn’t want to have Wheein leave Penumbra, but if this is what it took to keep her safe until her innocence was proven, this is what he would do.
He owed so much of his existence to her, he couldn’t let this happen.
He wasn’t going to let this happen.
The bells stopped as Dae Seong stood up from his throne on the wooden stage they had set up, “We have all gathered here to see the execution of the assassin who tried to kill our crowned princess! Her very own handmaid, this is the killer, our own flesh and blood, and the punishment for a traitorous woman is fitting, burning of the steak!”
Wheein was brought out, her hands tied behind her back, her eyes had dark circles and she was crying as she shook her head, “Please! I would never do that to Penumbra! To Y/n! Please you have to believe me!”
But her cries were in vein as the crowd boo’d her, all shouting vile words her way as they dragged her down to the large wooden steak pyre that had been set up.
Jungkook shifted in his spot as he watched them begin to tie her up.
“Are there any last words you would like to impart to us traitor?” Dae Seong looked at her with pure disgust.
Wheein’s lips quivered as she parted them.
A loud bloodcurdling scream interrupted her before she could speak, the crowd tensed and everyone seemed alert, Jungkook was towards the front, having intended on getting her off there the right moment, but he quickly turned around to see people quickly departing and creating a path.
And the next thing he saw was hardly comprehensible.
You, covered in blood, your face was a horrific sight with it’s dried crimson color covering your mouth all the way down your neck, but what was even more horrifying was what was next to you, Fenrir limping beside you, a corpse held in his mouth.
Women screamed and men gasped in horror as they all moved.
The looks on the royals faces were indescribable, Dae Seong most of all, “What is the meaning of this?”
You stopped in front of the throne, Fenrir as if knowing this was the destination, dropped the body from his jaws, it smacked the ground with a wet echo, the head finally detaching from the body as it rolled towards Dae Seong.
You don’t think you had ever seen an expression quite like what Dae Seong had, and you were sure this would be the only time.
It was silent for a long moment before you finally spoke, your throat raw and scratchy, “That’s your assassin, he tried to kill me again just hours ago.”
Dae Seong’s look of shock slowly twisted into one of rage, “Where is your proof of this!” He stood up from his throne towering over you with a growl, “What does a girl like you have meddling in business you don’t understand and taking the lives of those who were helping!”
“Am I standing in front of you not proof enough?” You snarled back, “From the moment I have come to this kingdom I have been nothing but disrespected, disregarded, used, and seen as nothing more than a tool to further someone’s agenda. And i’m sick of it.”
“Even when it comes to my own life, you stand in front of me questioning it!”
“Why I ought too!-”
“I have it!” A voice cried out, Jimin was running from the side entrance of the courtyard, a notebook in his hand as he panted, his eyes widening when they set on you, ‘Y/n!? Are you okay? I have it, I have proof that Di Jin was the assassin! Here, your majesty.”
Dae Seong snatched it with a certain level of venom as he looked through the book, but slowly as his eyes read through, an unreadable look took over his face.
Exhaustion began to take over, your body beginning to sway.
Dae Seong closed the book with a sense of finality, “Very well,” He aid with gritted teeth, anger still simmering in his eyes, “Perhaps, you do have the grit to survive here princess.”
You didn’t hear his words though, your gaze had went down to the body of Di Jin, and swaying backwards you collapsed into an abyss of darkness, nothing more then multiple people calling your name.
#bts#jungkook#jungkook x reader#jungkook x y/n#jeon jungkook#jeon jungkook x reader#jungkook smut#jungkook x reader smut#prince!jungkook#bts au#Jungkook imagine
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Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: frienemies-to-lovers, kinda mean!Eddie? shy!reader, swearing, a lil smoochin', mentions of lack of confidence and poor self image, cute nicknames
a/n: hi bb, will you be my valentine? I don't love writing mean!eddie but its okay because we can always fix him :)
Valentine’s Day.
A day which the Hawkins High elite are positively buzzing over the plethora of cheap red and pink decorations.
Cheerleaders swoon over poorly constructed cards from their popular boyfriends, while dozens of obnoxious mylar balloons take up way too much space in the already crowded hallways.
Beyond the 14th of February, the reason for all the excitement was the annual Hawkins High Valentine’s Day dance—of which you were head of the committee.
Was it because you were the only Senior to volunteer their time to coordinating it instead of attending it? Maybe, but at least it gave you a reason to show up to the dance without a date.
...and avoid looking like the pitiful wallflower you are.
You also knew you’d have no time to rush home and get ready after your last class, so here you are. Standing outside of the AV Club door, decked out in your new crushed-velvet dress. It's ruby red and dangerously short.
This was definitely out of your comfort zone. You typically preferred to be invisible. It’s easier that way; no one can hurt what they can’t see. Right?
But when this dress caught your eye in the mall shop window, it was the first time you could ever remember wanting to be seen. Wanting to try to look like the pretty girls who walk the halls everyday vying for the attention of others.
The dance gave you the perfect excuse. Sure, it’s not like you had a date or anyone asking you to go, but you felt so beautiful. The way the dress hugged your body made all the staring and whispering as you walked down the hallway so, so worth it.
“Hey—whoa…” Dustin’s voice dropped when he walked around the corner, arms full of equipment. “Y-you look fantastic!” He said proudly.
Dustin was your favorite Freshmen, always kind and happy to see you.
“Aw, thanks Dusty! You don’t think it’s too much?” You lifted your boot, inspecting it falsely.
Dustin smiled, “It’s too much for 6th period Spanish, but not for Valentine’s Day that’s for sure.”
He unlocked the door, and held it for you.
Dusting grabbed a pen and paper to write down what you’d need the AV Club’s help with after school.
With hands on your hips, you looked around the room. “Okay, so I definitely need the projector, and if you could set it up before—“
An annoying, loud, cocky voice cut you off. “Henderson! What the hell is takin’ you so long?”
Eddie fucking Munson.
You watched as he sauntered into the room, DIO jacket and all. He clapped Dustin on the shoulders before turning his gaze to you.
“Holy shit. That you, Mouse?”
Mouse. A nickname you loathed.
You’d made the mistake of sitting at the Hellfire table your Freshman year, and he’s never let let you live it down. Once Eddie saw just how shy you were, he made it his mission to get under your skin.
He'd plopped down into the seat next to you, assuming you were there to cause him and the guys trouble. “New girl’s trying to get in good with the freaks, hm?”
You jumped and began to frantically pack your belongings, “I-I…I didn’t know. I’m sorry, I’ll just go—"
When he realized you were nervous, he changed his tone. No longer was he on edge, but rather trying to make you laugh. Show you it's okay to give him a taste of his own medicine. “No no, little mouse. You’re not scurrying away that easily.”
Four years later, you’re both still here and Eddie’s been a thorn in your side ever since. You thought you'd be rid of him once he graduated, but he flunked--twice. Condemning you to another year full of his nonsense.
His obnoxious, overly-confident, doe-eyed nonsense.
“Munson.” You couldn’t help the eye roll. “Dustin and I are working on something so,” you flicked your hand toward the door. “Skedaddle.”
“Oof,” he teased. “You kiss your mother with that potty mouth?”
Eddie walked past Dustin, hands on his hips as he took you in. “Why, may I ask, are you dressed so fancy, princess? Hot date with a frog?”
Okay, guess we’re playing this game.
“The only frog I know is you, Munson.”
His hand flew to his heart. “You hear this, Henderson? Who knew Mouse could be such a brat?”
“If you’ll excuse me,” you attempt to sidestep him, but he blocks your path. Big brown eyes watching your every move. “Don’t you have anything better to do than push my buttons?” It’s a pitiful gripe. You know he enjoys this far too much.
“C’mon, sweetheart. If I didn’t talk to you, who the hell would?”
Ouch.
Something no doubt said in jest, but it hurt to realize just how right he was. You had tons of acquaintances, and you got along great with the teachers. As for friends, the well's a bit dry in that department.
You cleared away the tightness in you throat. “Yeah, I don’t have time for this. I’m actually contributing to society. How about you?” Your face was twisted into a sarcastic smile, attempting to hide the hurt.
Eddie on the other hand thought the two of you were simply playing your favorite game. Seeing just how flustered he could make you before you gave him a taste of his own medicine.
“Yeah, you’re a real Nancy Reagan.” He laughed, gesturing to your dress.
Your eyes honed in on him. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means,” he reached out, sweeping a piece of hair off of your cheek. “If you wanted a little attention, you didn’t have to do all this.”
This.
Said as if the word tasted rotten. Disgusted by what you’d considered to be you at your most beautiful.
I must look like a fucking fool.
The stinging in your eyes got stronger every second you stood in his presence. Your gaze locked onto the floor, following your feet as you left. “Bye, Dustin. I’ll see you later.”
Dustin protested, calling you back before turning his disappointed glare to Eddie.
“Dude…” he chided.
Eddie scoffed, “What? Henderson I was joking—she knows that, okay? That’s our whole thing.”
"Eddie, she was crying!"
Were you? No, no way. This is what the two of you do.
"No, she wasn't." He said unconvincingly. "You don't know her like I do, little buddy. She's a good girl, loves the cat-and-mouse of it all." Eddie wasn't sure if he was trying to convince himself or Dustin.
Eddie had a fuck of a time in O'Donnell's class, and now on top of all of that, he's late to set up Hellfire.
He moved a bit quicker down the hall, easy enough since most of the school left to get ready for the Desperate Dance. He intentionally always schedules DND on nights like this, that way he'd never have to be caught dead--
Eddie's stopped in his tracks at the sight of the trashcan at the end of the hall. He spots a familiar piece of red fabric hanging out of the bin.
He pulled it like a magician, revealing more and more of the velvet clothing until its fully removed,
A dress.
Your dress.
Why the fuck did you throw it in the trash? You we're the most confident Eddie had ever seen you while you wore this thing.
...and you looked drop dead gorgeous, but that's beside the point.
He heard your voice coming from the gym, and abandoned all thoughts of DND.
Eddie burst through the double doors, ignoring the frilly pink and red decorations for the dance. He weaved between the underclassmen carefully setting up the tables and backdrops to make his way over to you.
You, who now instead of being in your beautiful fucking dress, are in you school-supplied gym uniform. Your hair was pulled back, no longer falling in the perfectly natural way you had it earlier. Your makeup was gone--Eddie didn't mind that, he didn't think you needed it anyway.
But you'd never looked so small to him.
He called your name more gently than you've ever heard him speak. When you turned and saw your dress in his grip, you wanted to disappear.
Had he come to gloat?
"Why the hell was this in the trash?" he's not smirking, or sarcastic when he says it.
"Didn't like it." It's all the pain in your throat will let you get out.
You walk away from him, hurrying to find something else to do beside stand there and be made fun of by Eddie Munson.
"Bullshit," he calls after you, quick on your heels. "You don't wear a dress like this and look the way you look in it and just decide you don't like it."
You could feel the tears returning as soon as you stopped walking. "I don't know what you wanna hear," your back was to Eddie, but you felt his gaze regardless. "I just didn't like it...anymore, okay?"
The fake organization of the ribbons in front of you didn't deter him, he remained behind you in silence until he couldn't take it anymore.
"Did...did I say something? Earlier, in the AV Club." He spoke so softly, and with such sincerity, you'd never know it was Eddie talking to you.
You sniffled, angry at yourself for letting him hear how upset you were. "I don't know what you mean."
"Henderson," He's quick on your heels. "Henderson said you were crying when you left."
You don't--can't say anything. Trying desperately to will the tightness in your throat to go away and the tears to dry before they fall from your eyes. A small, shaking breath passes your lips.
"Please look at me, Mouse." His voice is hushed when he calls out to you.
You turn to him begrudgingly. Hoping if he saw the mess he made he'd leave well enough alone.
But when he sees your face, with red eyes and damp tear-stained cheeks, his heart falls into his stomach.
"Oh, oh sweetheart--"
You beat him to it. "I'm fine, Munson. Just...just give me the stupid thing, okay? I'm better off invisible, anyway."
"You've never been invisible to me." Eddie hands you the dress, and watches as you wring it between your hands. "I'm sorry, Mouse."
You scoff, "You didn't--"
"Yes I did," He says firmly. Eddie steps into you, closer than he's been before. "I made an asinine comment thinking we were playing our little game, but it's not a game if someone gets hurt, especially you."
Eddie swipes away the tear on your cheek with the pad of his thumb. "You looked beautiful. You're always beautiful, but that dress? Honey, I couldn't think straight. I'm a dumbass half the time, but I turned into a god damned Neanderthal when I saw you in that."
Your brain couldn't process what was happening. It almost sounded like Eddie...liked you?
"I thought," You looked down, embarrassed to even say it out loud. "I finally felt pretty, pretty enough to be seen and not just in the background."
Eddie's brow softens at your words, "Mouse, I see you. You're one of the only things I look for throughout the day. Always lookin' out for the pretty shy girl with the smile that makes me go weak in the knees."
You laugh at that. "I guess I always look for the obnoxious metal head that's way too good at getting under my skin."
Eddie chest rumbles with a laugh, too. "You're too good at calling me on my crap, what do you expect me to do?"
A comfortable silence falls between the two of you, and it has Eddie clearing his throat. "Can--can I give you a hug? Hate that I made my favorite girl cry."
The smile on your face speaks volumes, but you nod anyway.
When you're wrapped in Eddie's arms, his warmth seeps through your bones, relieving any tension or nerves. His scent invades your senses, warming your belly and heart. You melt into him completely.
Eddie can't believe how well you fit in his arms, like a damn puzzle piece if you asked him. He smells you shampoo, and memorizes the fragrance, filing it away in his mind as his new favorite smell.
When you pull back, he leans his forehead on yours. "I'm sorry I hurt you. I really am."
You nod, moving his head a bit as it rests on yours. "I know."
Eddie steps away, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Ya know, uh, if you're not busy, I'm running a DND campaign tonight. I'd love it if you sat in and maybe after...I don't know, maybe I could take you to Benny's?"
You smirked, eyes narrowing at him. "You asking me out, Munson?"
His eyes widened in sheer panic, "Oh--oh my God, I read this all wrong, huh? Please just forget--"
You're quick to ease his worry. "I'd love too."
Putting the dress on the table, you offer Eddie your hand. "Show me the way, Dungeon Master."
He takes it eagerly, but doesn't walk anywhere yet.
"Eddie?" You giggle.
"One second, princess. Damn knees turned to jelly again."
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I was just wondering if you could write for the demon brothers (and undateables if you want) to MC coming back after leaving Devildom for a year (or any long period of time), and they are unrecognizable to the brothers (and/or undateables). Like they had a glow up and came back looking different to where they are unrecognizable <33
I love reading your work it makes my day. Everyday after work I come home and read your posts, really lightens my mood 🫶🏼
hi!! of course!
I'm so happy to hear that you like my work!!! makes all my writing worth it, hope you enjoy this one especially!
Mc who had a glow up!
Lucifer
looks a little surprised at first
however, he continues as if everything was normal
later, he lets you know he likes your new look subtly
never directly addresses it, but you notices his eyes linger on you until he notices you're looking at him
Mammon
tries to pretend like nothing has changed but you can see the gears turning in his head
it's funny to watch him struggle to be cool about it
if you mention it, he freezes and begin to protest as he begins to turn bright red
once he snaps out of it, he begins trying to walk away but probably runs into a wall
Levi
not even trying to hide how shocked he is
unusually confident and he lets you know he likes your new look
he admits for a second, he didn't recognize you
however, he's just happy to have his Henry back and asks when you have time to play games with him in person, instead of online
Satan
pretends like he doesn't know you at first to mess with you
"and who's this gorgeous human standing in the living room?" "SATAN"
you're still the same Mc under the new look, so he's relieved to finally have some one around who actually took the time to try and understand him
takes you out to one of his big gatherings to keep you all to himself and make everyone jelous
Asmo
immediately asks every questions that pops into his head, such as your new skin care routine and if he can do it too
if you haven't done much, he's convinced you're hiding some life changing secret from him but lets it go
posts about your return on Devilgram which causes you to get a new surge of followers
expect a shopping spree and a fun photoshoot afterwards
Beel
for a second, he actually didn't recognize you
but, as soon as he felt the pact flare up, he was happy to be reunited
another brother who doesn't really care since you're the same to him
wants to celebrate with a dinner, just like last time you were in the Devildom
Belphie
teases you a little about small things
however, lets you know he actually likes the way you look now
as long as you can still nap together, he's happy
expect lots of kisses, not because he likes the new you better, btu because he's happy to have you back
#obey me#obey me!#obey me satan#obey me x reader#obey me asmo#obey me beel#obey me levi#obey me lucifer#obey me belphie#obey me mammon#omswd#obey me shall we date#obey me mc
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shut up my moms calling- chris sturniolo x fem!reader
a/n i love naming my fics after songs bc then i listen to them on replay while i write.
summary- coming home from college means seeing the kid you’ve hated most your whole life. chris sturniolo. you’ve hated everything about his existence since the beginning of 6th grade when you transferred to somerville. the summer after your freshman year of college is when everything starts to change.
warnings- long(ish) smut ofc, mention of toxic relationship, choking, pet names (princess, baby, pretty girl) overstimulation {i think that’s all!}
-
6th grade
i just moved from oklahoma to a small town outside of boston called somerville. it was my first day of 6th grade and i was everything but excited to go. i had a good amount of friends in oklahoma, and absolutely none in massachusetts. if it were up to me i would have stayed, but i had no choice because my mom got offered better work down here.
i walked into the crowded classroom with my schedule in hand. “is this mrs sawyers class?” i ask quietly. “yes it is, and you must be y/n?” she looks up at me through her glasses. “y-yes” i utter nervously. “nice to meet you, have a seat wherever” I walk to a more empty side of the classroom and take a seat.
“newww girlll” i voice calls out in a mocking tone when i sit down. when i look up i lock eyes with a boy with short brown hair. hes sat with his 2 triplet brothers and another one of their friends. “yeah?” i say quietly. he starts immediately attacking me with questions
“where are you from? why are you here? what school did you go to last? did you have friends” i’m overwhelmed as questions pour out of his mouth. “chris you’re freaking her out” his brother says. “i’m nick.” he smiles at me. “that’s chris, obviously, and that’s matt”
“hey nice to meet you” the third one says. “oh and that’s nate.” nick says. i nod my head looking at the 4 boys. “i’m y/n” i say. “y/n?” chris says under his breath almost inaudible. “excuse me?” i say turning my head to look at him. “what nothing.” he tries to play it off
“who decided on the name y/n, your mom or your dad?” chris asks with a disgusted but confused look on his face. “it was my mom’s best friend’s name before she passed.” i explained. “tough” he muttered. the whole rest of the class period was filled with his snarky remarks and questions.
over time, as i got closer to matt and nick, the snarky remarks from chris turned into full on arguments. anything i would say would lead to chris having something else to say. i could tell him my head hurts and he would say something along the lines of “maybe if you wouldn’t think so hard about what to say and just shut the fuck up for once that wound be a problem.” i would just roll my eyes and go back to talking to nick
-
this behavior lasted all the way through senior year of high school. i stayed close with nick and matt, which means i was stuck with chris. we got in several heated arguments over the years and they all led to me leaving the triplets house at 2 in the morning because i couldn’t physically be around chris.
our last big fight was the weekend before i left for college. nick wanted to host a small party of about 15 friends for me since i wouldn’t be seeing him again til the summer. we were setting up the decorations and chris was being extra annoying.
“chris can you actually help out and stop acting like a fucking toddler.” i snapped at him while he stood under me watching me hang up a banner. “maybe if you weren’t nagging at me every 30 seconds.” he complained. “i wouldn’t be nagging if you wouldn’t stand in my way instead of actually contributing to anything in this world” i yelled, stepping off the ladder as i finished hanging the banner.
“you act like i wanna do this party. i don’t give a fuck about you.” he spat “i might not even show up tonight because you’ve been a bitch all day long!” my heart dropped and i felt a lump form in my throat. bitch? me and chris never got along but he never called me a bitch
he knew how much i hated it because of a past relationship i had. during junior year, i was in a super toxic relationship with a kid from our school. i was so naive i had thought he had actually liked me but it turns out i was wrong. we would constantly argue and he would gaslight me into forgiving him.
i stared at chris blankly as tears formed in my eyes. “y/n i-“ “fuck you chris.” i cut him off “and yeah i think it’s best you don’t show up tonight.” i ran upstairs to the bathroom and wiped away my tears. i checked in the mirror and adjusted myself before going back down.
-
present day
i hung up the phone with nick and got in my car. i was on my way home from college for the summer, and i finally got to see my best friend. he’s so excited that he rented out a cabin by the lake for a whole week to celebrate. i haven’t seen any of the triplets since i left, i haven’t seen chris since before the party. chris. my stomach dropped and my heart started pounding when the realization hit that i would be seeing chris.
i didn’t want to see him at all. nick said he changed a lot, and maybe he did, but you can never be too sure. and he did change a lot physically. chris was much more attractive then he was in highschool, not that he’s ever been unattractive, other than his personality.
about a few hours later i called nick to tell him i was close to the cabin. i pulled in and nick darted outside. “omgggg it’s been forever” i squealed as i got out of my car. “you have to see the place!” he grabbed my wrist and pulled me to the back of the house. “there’s a hot tub, a massive pool and all of this space.” he gawked at the house. we went inside as he gave me a tour of the house. “this is your room!” he announced pointing inside.
i looked around and it was absolutely beautiful. “thank you so much nick this is amazing” i hugged him. “don’t thank me too much” he said “i had to put you in the room across the hall from chris, i hope you don’t mind because i’ll work something out”
“no that’s totally fine, i’ll just pretend he isn’t even here” i smiled. he smiled back “okay i’ll be downstairs getting everything ready bc we’re gonna have movie night tonight just like high school.” he said as he left my room.
after i got settled in, i took a shower. i picked out my pajamas which was just a big t shirt and shorts and i headed down stairs happily. “there she is!” matt exclaimed, giving me a hug. “matt i missed you so much!” i said hugging him back
after i pulled away, i made eye contact with chris, who was glaring at me and matt. i shot him a calm smile and looked away. wow chris got really hot. you thought to yourself. no, chris is awful. but i couldn’t help but notice his fluffy hair and his defined jawline.
i noticed his sun kissed face, which made his freckles stand out. god i could only imagine what he looked like with my leg- no. remember what chris said to you. i snapped myself out of my thoughts and sat by nick on the the couch. he handed me a blanket and i cuddled up next to him and focused my eyes on the screen
my focus only lasted for about 30 seconds before my mind was back on chris. why hasn’t he spoke to me? because he hates me. duh. i wonder what he’s thinking right now. why am i so worried about chris? “you okay?” nick asks from beside me. “yeah i’m fine” i say in a convincing reassuring tone.
after the movie ends, i say goodnight and i head up to my room. i get situated in my bed, and i try to fall asleep but i can’t. my mind is flooded with thoughts of chris, and the next thing i know my hand is down my pants. what has happened to me?
this is chris sturniolo, the kid who’s bullied me for 7 years. i never imagined i would be getting off to the thought of him at 2 in the morning. i need to go to bed, but i physically can’t.
i get up out of bed and dig through my bags. i grab my pink swim suit and put it on. a get a towel from my bathroom and quietly head down stairs. i go out the back door and get in the hot tub. i zone out and try to find peace of mind.
i sit there with my eyes closed until i hear someone else getting in the water. i open my eyes, only to see chris. great. this is exactly what i need right now. “look y/n” his voice breaks me out of my thoughts. “i’m really sorry for the way i’ve treated you, you didn’t deserve any of it. but, we’re older now so i wanna put the past in the past”
“i forgive you” i say flatly. “really?” he seems genuinely shocked. “can i kiss you?” i asked immediately regretting what i said. “what?” is all he says before i grab my towel and run inside.
i lay on my bed for a split second before i hear a knock. i know it’s chris, but i still go to the door and answer it. i look up at him with a guilty look on my face. before i speak he’s slamming his face into mine.
he kisses me very passionately like he’s been waiting is whole life. he pushes me into my room and shuts the door behind us. he turns me and pushes me against is as he kisses me harder. one of his hands come up and squeeze my neck slightly
i moan into his mouth causing him to squeeze harder. i moan again growing super wet between my legs. one of my hands come up to tug on his hair, while the other one makes its way up his shirt.
with one hand still around my neck, he guides me over to my bed and lays me down flat as he climbs on top of me. “can i?” he asks, toying with the strap of my top. “pls chris” i whine. he unties my top and yanks it off, his mouth immediately meeting my nipple, his available hand massaging my other breast.
i throw my head back and moan as he does whatever he wants. next thing i know, his hand is coming off my throat, and down my body. he stops abt my bottoms before looking at me for confirmation. i nod desperately. his cold hands slip into my bottoms as his fingers meet my clit.
i’m a moaning mess at this point, begging for whatever contact i can get. “god you’re fucking soaked.” he says, his voice raspy and quiet. “fuck chris please touch me.” i beg “whatever you want princess” he says before putting his ring and middle finger inside of me. he quickly pumps in and out for a few seconds before i cut him of. “chris wait” i say
“are you okay did i do something wrong?” he questions. “no but i have an idea.” i tell him. i then instruct him to lay on his back and put his head on the pillow. i watch as he does what i say. once he’s situated i ask him “can i sit on your face?”
i laughed a little inside about how innocent it sounded. “of course princess” he says. i make my way closer to him as i put my legs on either side of his head. i slightly lower myself down, enough to make contact.
my legs shake as i try to hold myself up while he eats me. he lifts me up a little and says “don’t be shy baby, suffocate me.” he grips my waist harder as he pulls me down all the way onto his face. my back arches at the contact.
chris eats me like i was his last meal, i grip the headboard, and struggle to stay quiet while his nose rubs my clit. “chris i’m g-gonna cum” i whine. one of his hands come off my waist and grabs my ass, massaging it. my legs squeeze his head. and i moan uncontrollably as i release all over his face.
after i come down from my high, i get off and straddle his waist. i lean down and kiss him, tasting myself. i grind on his hard on while we kiss, making him grunt. i reach my hand down and palm his boxers as his body twitches.
i go for the band of his swim shorts and slowly pull them down, exposing his hard dick. i look him in the eyes, to get his consent “y/n please” is all i need to hear before i slowly stroke him. he moans and tosses his head back
after a few more strokes, i sit up and line myself up with him. i slowly lower myself onto him, wincing at his size as i feel him in me. once i’m fully sat, i sit still for a minute to adjust. once i’m ready i start bouncing up and down. he puts one hand on my waist to guide me, as the other one makes it way to mu sensitive clit.
“ughh chris don’t stop” i whine as i ride him. my words make him rub my clit even faster than before. my eyes are now practically stuck in the back of my head as i moan out for him. when i’m about to finish, i clench around him, making his mouth fall open. i come all over him, as he helps me through my high
“good job princess.” he grunts i keep riding him until i feel him twitch. “you feel so good pretty girl. i’m almost there.” i clench again, becoming slightly overstimulated. just then he releases, inside of me. after he comes down i slide off and plop on my bed.
“you okay princess?” he asks with concern “overstimulated” is all i can bring myself to mutter. chris picks me up and lays me in a more comfortable spot on the bed. he then heads to my bathroom and comes back with a towel. he helps clean me off before he finds the shorts and shirt i had on earlier.
he helps me put them on, then he puts his shorts on and goes to his room. i feel sad in that moment. how could he to all of that just to leave? just then he enters my room with pajama pants on. “don’t worry i’m not going anywhere.” he whispers as he crawls into bed with me.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••
a/n: kinda love this what do u think?
#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#sturniolo smut#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo smut#christopher sturniolo#matt sturniolo smut#smut#nick sturniolo#sturniolo
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The Last of the Dragons
Chapter Five- The Agreement
Summary- Even days have culminated to this moment.
Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female Reader. Incest. Pregnancy (we all knew this was coming). Treason. Mention of murder/poisoning. OOC Aemond cuz he’s experiencing joy. Titty sucking. Soft smut.
Author’s Note- and that’s that on that! I genuinely cannot believe how well received this was, I honestly thought I was gonna be writing this entirely for me and didn’t think people would respond to it the way they did. I’m so so glad you all loved it and hopefully that love continues with the final chapter. Full chapter linked below🥰
Morning lets out a curious sound as she follows the reflection of the compact. Her head tilts, the scratch of her claws echoing through the room as she turns them in before she's pouncing on the sunspot, attempting to trap it underfoot. Baela laughs as she shifts her hand, sending the light further into the room, Morning skittering across the flagstones in order to chase it and pulling a laugh from her as well.
Rhaena does not share in their glee, letting out a heavy sigh as she makes her way across the room. "You're so mean to her, you shouldn't tease."
"We're playing," Baela defends, but Rhaena picks Morning up all the same, the young dragon settling into her arms almost immediately. She curls into the warmth of Rhaena's chest, stretching out long where she is cradled, tail falling limp over her arm.
"You'll be lucky if she doesn't bite you," she laughs, making her way over to Rhaena and running her fingers across the pink scales on Morning’s snout.
The little dragon makes a purring noise, pushing up against her fingers and she can't contain her smile. She had never seen Silverwing as a hatchling, claiming her on Dragonstone soon after her family arrived, but she can't deny how sweet Morning is, more akin to a cat than a dragon. Vermax had never been that way, Arrax kinder but capable of the same prickly nature. Tyraxes and Stormcloud seemed closer to Morning than the latter two were but none seemed sweeter than her. Though sweet as she may be, she is still a dragon, capable of violence at any given moment. Particularly if Baela continued to goad her.
Baela looks at her in mock offense, closing the compact pointedly before making her way toward them. "She would never. Far too sweet for such cruelty, aren't you, my love?"
She puts her face far too close to Morning's and though she braces herself to watch her sister lose a chunk of her nose, Baela pulls away before anything can happen, simply rubbing the tip of her nose against Morning’s. There is a degree of longing in her eyes as she backs away and immediately she knows Baela is missing Moondancer. Their bond had been special and the loss had hit her hard, especially when coupled with all the horror that followed, the chains Aegon forced her into, and she feels her heart break for her sister.
"Perhaps we can go riding soon," she offers, coming up to take hold of Baela's elbow. "Silverwing is big enough for two. We can ride however you'd like."
Baela smiles, the corners tinged with sadness, and brings up her hand to take her own, squeezing once. "I would like that."
"And perhaps Morning will join us as well once she's big enough to saddle," she adds, turning back to Rhaena.
Her second sister grins brightly, a laugh escaping her as Morning scrambles up her arm to lounge across her shoulders like a mink fur. She nearly blends into Rhaena's gown, the two pinks far too similar a colour to be pure coincidence, and Baela reaches out a hand to pull their sister closer.
It is moments like this that she has missed the most, moments where the three of them are alone, where they can act as they did as children. There was a brief period, the two years they spent together on Dragonstone before Baela was sent to Driftmark to ward, where they had days just like this. The three of them, joined together at the hip solely because they were girls of the same age. The same septa, the same maester, together always. On occasion, she had found herself missing Helaena, wishing that the four of them had been given the chance to be girls together, wishing that this familial rivalry did not exist. But the night on Driftmark had sealed that fate behind a metal grate forever and Helaena's marriage to Aegon had confirmed it further.
There was to be no shared girlhood for them. Not in this lifetime.
The door to her chambers opens then, pulling her from her thoughts and revealing their grandsire. He stands in the threshold for a moment to take them in, all three chained together by clasped hands, and smiles widely. It makes her stomach drop. "Are we to spend the morning together then?"
"Unfortunately not," she says, face scrunched in sympathy before turning to her sisters. "Would you both give us a moment alone? Council matter, I'm afraid."
"Of course, lovely," Baela assures her. Though there is a clear suspicion there, she still presses a kiss to her cheek all the same.
Rhaena is nodding as well, raising Morning in her arms. "We should find something for this beast to eat before she attempts to devour a few ravens in the rookery."
They say their goodbyes, each pressing a kiss to Corlys's cheek, and she feels her heart clench the moment the door closes behind them, leaving her alone with their grandsire. Corlys looks over at her and smiles, enough to make her guilt feel all consuming before she gestures to her dining table. He takes a seat while she begins rifling through her letter chest, searching for the right seal before pulling it out and joining him at the table.
Read the rest here :)
Taglist- @ammo23 @bellstwd @kckt88 @aemondsbabygirl @shygardengalaxy @duds31 @at-a-rax-ia @ladymarg0t @queenofshinigamis @drakar-i @cl-0-vr @castellomargot @moonlightfoxx @ladybug0095 @marihoneywk @the-common-cowgirl @darylandbethfanforever9 @bunny24sstuff @helaenaluvr @toodlesxcuddles @eternally-passionate @herfantasyworldd @ashovertheriver @hypocritic-trash-baby @heavenly1927 @bunbunbl0gs @divxnee @seabasscevans @madislayyy @jessssica1234 @humanpurposes @strangersunghoon
#Aemond targaryen x reader#Aemond x reader#Aemond targaryen x you#Aemond x you#Aemond targaryen x fem!reader#aemond x fem!reader#Aemond targaryen x niece#aemond x niece!reader#Aemond targaryen smut#Aemond smut#aemond targaryen#hotd#hotd fanfic#hotd x reader#hotd smut#house of the dragon#house of the dragon fanfic#house of the dragon smut
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A family Thanksgiving
This was supposed to be up yesterday, but it took on a mind of its own and instead of the few hundred words it was supposed to be, its nearly 3k. Happy belated Thanksgiving to anyone who celebrates!
rated: t | wc: 2847 | cw: period typical homophobia, Steve's asshole parents
The offers from everyone to have him over for Thanksgiving had been great, any other year he would have loved such a choice, but for the first time in a long time, he was spending the day with family.
"But you hate your family." Dustin pointed out when Steve had told everyone about his holiday plans.
"No, I hate my parents. It's my grandma that asked me to go, and I want to see her and my cousins that I haven't seen in like five years. I'm driving myself to Chicago, so I won't be stuck in a car with my parents for hours on end." Steve explained.
"But you're working a late the day before, and I'm not going to cover you so you can drive up early" Robin replied.
"I'm planning on leaving by six on Thanksgiving morning. It's less than four hours to drive, so I'll be there before ten, well nine because of the timezone change. I took the late shift the day before so I had an excuse to drive myself, and my parents wouldn't have any reason to come by Hawkins before. And I drive home either the Friday or the Saturday, ready for our Sunday shift."
Come Thanksgiving day, Steve was somewhat regretting his decision. It had been nearly midnight before he'd gotten home, after a number of people came in just before closing insistent on needing a selection of movies ready for the next day. Then hadn't been happy when the movies they wanted weren't in stock, so they left the place a total mess, causing Steve to stay late to tidy up ready for the opener the next day. Then having to get up around five, so he could get ready and be on track to leave as planned. In an attempt to wake up, he was mostly surviving on a large cup of incredibly strong coffee. He was just counting down the minutes until he could get there.
When he walked in the door, he was immediately wrapped up in a hug from his grandma. "Stevie, it's so good to see you."
"It's great to see you too, Grandma." He returned the hug, melting into it a little. Exactly what he needed after the year it had been.
"Let me take a look at you." She stepped back slightly, giving him a once over. Her hand came up to trace the scar still on his neck from where he had been strangled by the bats and vines. "What happened here?"
"I. It's nothing. It looks a lot worse than it is." Steve replied, trying to get out of the awkwardness of the conversation.
"Oh, if you're sure. If you want to help with dinner, you can join us in the kitchen. But if you just want to rest, anyone who's watching football is in the living room, and the Macy's parade is on in the den."
"It's been a long drive, and I had a late finish last night, so I think I'm going to take a bit of a break. I might come out and help a bit later." He offered.
"Oh, honey. If you don't feel up to it, you don't need to help at all. Take it easy, and we'll call you once everything is ready." She kissed Steve on the cheek, before going back to the kitchen.
Steve made his way through the house, glancing into the living room as he passed. He could see his dad in one of the recliners, and decided against joining them. Wanting to delay the inevitable "you're a disappointment" lecture. He knew his mom would likely be in the kitchen, not actually helping, just drinking wine and gossiping. He moved on to the den, where most of his cousins were. He hovered in the doorway for a second, unsure what to say. So much had changed since the last time he had seen any of them.
"Wait, Stevie?" One of them, Lizzie, said as she looked up to see him.
"Uh, hey?" Steve replied, a little unsure, before he was being swamped in a group hug.
"Jesus Christ, when did this happen? Last time I saw you, you were like a little kid. Now you're a whole grown adult." Another, Mark, said.
After a long catch up, bringing Steve up to date on everyone else's lives, and him giving an abridged highlights of his last few years, they then got into more serious topics.
"Was everything okay after the earthquakes? I tried calling a few times, but I don't know if I had the wrong number because it never went through." Alice, the oldest of his cousins, asked.
"The phones were down across the whole town for a while after, then it was patchy for weeks after that. It was hard to get five or ten minutes without it dropping out. It took me like two weeks before I was able to get hold of mom and dad to let them know that the house was still standing, and that I was still alive." Steve explained.
"Wait, they weren't in Hawkins for the earthquakes?" Harry cut in.
"No, they've not been in Hawkins since February? Like over a month before it happened."
"Oh. They were telling us last night about how awful and hard it had been during the earthquakes, and how they were scared for their lives." Alice replied.
"That's such bullshit. They weren't in the country when it happened, they were in London. They didn't even know that it was Hawkins that was affected until I called them, because all they'd seen on the news was a freak earthquake hitting the Midwest. It hadn't even specified the state. And then they didn't care how I was, if I was hurt or anything, all they were interested in was if there was damage to the house, and how the earthquake could affect the resale value."
"Okay, I call dibs about bringing that up over dinner. I just want to see what shade of purple Uncle Dick can turn." Becca, the closest cousin to Steve in age, piped up. "But were you hurt?"
"Uh, minor injuries. Nothing serious." Steve lied, not wanting to worry anyone. "I was able to start volunteering within a couple of days. You know, helping out at the relief center, helping search for missing people. And when everything calmed down I was helping rebuild and stuff. Just trying to do my bit. But I'm fine now."
"That's good. But thinking of Uncle Dick turning purple, who gets to bring up Fuck Reagan?" Mark asked.
"Stevie's been through the most, I think he should get the chance." Alice replied.
"Uh, I think that would go down about as well as if I told him that my best friend is a dyke and I've spent most of my free time in the last six months sucking off the local drug dealer, who was accused of being a cult leader and murdering three people." Steve said quickly, unsure if he wanted anyone else to pick up what he'd said.
"Was that for drugs, or for fun, or what? Like a hook up?" Harry asked.
"He's my boyfriend. I mean, it helps that I get free weed out of him, but I'd do it anyway." Steve admitted.
"That is something you missed out of your round up. But I love that all of us are some variation of queer."
Dinner was...interesting, to say the least. After saying Grace, they went round the table to say what they were thankful for that year. Steve had to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing as his parents waxed on and on about how they were thankful for their lives and being able to escape the earthquake unscathed. He couldn't keep from laughing when Becca spoke up against them.
"Really? Because Alice asked Steve how he found it after the earthquakes, and he said that he couldn't reach you for two weeks after it happened because the phones were down and you were in London. And you didn't even know that it had hit Hawkins until he called you."
"Steven, why are you telling lies about us?" His mother demanded.
"I wasn't? You weren't in Hawkins when the earthquake hit. You've not been there since February. When I was finally able to call you, you only cared about how the house was, not if I was hurt. And you were pissed that I hadn't called you sooner, despite the fact the phone lines were down for the whole town. I could have died or been injured in hospital, and you wouldn't have known."
"How dare-" His father started, only to be cut off by Steve's grandmother.
"Settle down. There's no need for arguing. I am inclined to believe Steve, because I do remember you telling me that you were going to be spending a few months in Europe at the start of this year."
Both of Steve's parents were visibly unhappy, but they didn't push it any further, allowing the rest of the family to talk about what they were thankful for.
Many small conversations broke out over the table, Steve loving the feeling of being surrounded by family for the first time in a long time. He got pulled into talking to different people, but he did his best to avoid his parents' eye. Not wanting to get trapped by them telling him all the ways he had bothered them since he'd last seen them. But he knew they were up to something, when his father got up before dessert was served.
"Before we have anything else, we do have a big announcement about the future of our family." He said, using the voice he always used when talking to the most important clients.
"You've sucked enough political dick to get what ever tax exemption you were after?" Lizzie asked, before anyone could take it too seriously.
Steve's dad just spluttered in anger as a call of "Elizabeth." Came from at least four different people around the table.
"Ignoring that horrible interruption. What I was going to tell everyone is about Steven's imminent engagement. He is going to be proposing to Melissa Downey, the daughter of my business partner, at Christmas, they've been seeing each other for nearly eighteen months now, and it is going to mean big things for our family."
Steve couldn't respond, processing what had just been said, as everyone started speaking, some offering congratulations, others in confusion.
"That's news to me." Steve said loudly, to get over everyone's voices, once he could form the words. "I'm not planning on proposing to anyone."
"Well, Arthur and I have been discussing it, and it is the only thing that makes sense now, the two of you have been together for long enough, the logical next step is engagement."
"I'm not dating Melissa. We went on one date over a year ago, just after I graduated. It was awful, all she was interested in was if I made enough money to bankroll her spending addiction. I made up a fake emergency to get out of it, and I would rather stick forks in my eyes than suffer through that again." Steve got to his feet, bracing his hands on the table. Knowing he'd been right not to be optimistic that the holiday could pass without incident.
"You will if you know what's good for you. If you don't, it could destroy our business. You wouldn't want to be the reason we go broke, would you? You could end up homeless. Where would you live?"
"First, I have plenty of friends who would be happy to take me in if I had nowhere else to go. It's something we talked about after the earthquake, because some people I know did have damage caused to their homes and I let them stay with me until they could move back in. Second, I don't really care about whether or not you go broke. You don't provide any money to me. You haven't since I started working at Scoops. I pay for all my food, gas, clothes. If you go broke, my financial position won't change at all. And third, I can't propose to her. I'm in a relationship, and we're both very happy."
"Is it that Buckley girl? Or did you somehow manage to convince that Wheeler girl that you're actually worth something? Because I can tell you now, you are going to break up with whatever little slut-"
"His name is Eddie." Steve shouted before he could think it through, and a silence fell across the room. "That's right. Your son is one of those awful queers that you keep campaigning against, to keep them illegal and get them locked up. And you know what? He's easily the best sex I've ever had. Especially when we get high first."
"Why you-" His father roared, his face turning a dark red in anger. "How dare you do this to us? After everything we have done for you. You'd better hope that those friends of yours would be willing to take you in, because you are not living under my roof any longer. You will have until the end of the weekend to collect your belongings, anything left will be burned."
"Except, it isn't your roof, is it Richard? If I remember correctly, I was the one who paid the mortgage. My name is the one on the deed to the property in Hawkins. I just allowed you to live there, rent-free might I add, because it made sense for you to live somewhere close to Indianapolis when your business was taking off. I had been planning to sell up. So I think maybe you should be the one to collect your belongings from that house, because I'm not sure if I want you living under my roof any longer. It sounds life you're almost never there, anyway." Steve's grandma replied.
"But, mother-" His father started.
"But nothing, Richard. I don't know where you learnt your hateful attitude, because I know I did not raise you to be the sort of man that would kick your own son out over something as minor as who he loves. I really thought you were a better man than that."
"It's disgusting." Steve's mother added. "So unnatural, and that disease."
"What is disgusting is your bigotry. I think I want you both out from under my roof, now. So, if you would both kindly leave. And I expect you to move your belongings from the house in Hawkins, as that is now Steve's house, not yours. And you better not touch anything that isn't yours, or cause any damage, because I will take legal advice." Steve's grandmother stood up, anger radiating from her tiny five foot frame. "And, unless you change and apologize for your outdated beliefs, you can forget any inheritance. I will not have any of my money going to support hatred."
"Mother,"
"Leave, Richard. Now. I'm not afraid to get the police involved here."
Steve's parents looked at him with their faces filled with utter disgust, before they turned and left. His grandmother escorting them off the property.
"Are you okay, Stevie?" His grandmother asked after the end of the meal.
"I. I think so. I think I need to make a couple of phone calls." He replied.
"Use any of the phones, dear. Maybe if you know someone who can keep an eye on the house."
"Yeah. I babysit for the chief of police sometimes, so I might call him. He'll make sure nothing happens."
"Good. And, if you're talking to that boy of yours, tell him that he's got to come up here for Christmas. I want to meet him, and make sure he's good enough for you."
"Grandma." Steve protested.
"I'm just saying." She replied before walking away.
Steve shut himself in one of the bedrooms, for a little privacy from the still crowded house while he made the calls. The call to Hopper was quick, just outlining what was going on, and Hopper agreed to keep a check on the house until Steve was back in Hawkins. Then it was the call to Eddie.
"Baby, I wasn't expecting you to call. How's your Thanksgiving?"
"Interesting. My parents decided to announce that I was going to propose to dad's business partner's daughter. They wouldn't accept that I wasn't interested in her so I accidentally came out."
"Shit, I hope that didn't go too bad?"
"Uh, it could have gone worse? Somehow me coming out got my parents removed from the will and kicked out of the house. Because my grandma wasn't happy with them being assholes about it."
"Oh, badass grandma. I kinda want to meet her now."
"I was hoping you would say something like that. Because she has told me that you have to come here for Christmas. She wants to make sure that you're good enough." Steve couldn't help smiling as he talked, somehow the day had gone so much better than he'd ever hoped.
#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#steve harrington has bad parents#steve x eddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#stranger things#atimeofyourwrites
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Scare • Matt Sturniolo
pairing: matt sturniolo/fem!reader
summary: matt and you handle a pregnancy scare.
tags: angst and then fluff, with some humor sprinkled in. happy ending.
tw: light discussion of periods and pregnancy
It feels like my heart stops as I look at the calendar on my phone.
9 days late. And I’m never late.
I noticed this morning that my box of tampons still sat in the cabinet, unopened, in Matt and I’s shared bathroom. I hadn’t thought anything of it, until I opened my calendar to see when my next dentist appointment is.
I swallow dryly as I lock my phone and slip it back into my pocket, dropping down to sit on Matt and I’s bed. All I can think about is that damn calendar. 9 days late. 9 whole days. One or two days is normal I guess, but nine entire days?
I can feel my thoughts spiraling already. Matt and I are safe. I’m on a good birth control and we use condoms often. But even those aren’t foolproof. I do remember forgetting my pill twice this month.
Oh god. What if I’m pregnant? I’m not ready for a kid right now.
Oh god, and Matt. Matt isn’t ready either. With his career and plans with his brothers there’s no way this could even work right now. It would ruin everything. I feel tears of worry and anxiety fill my eyes and begin to drop down my cheeks.
My thoughts just continue to spiral and spiral, until I feel the bed dip next to me. I turn to see Nick, who had stayed behind with me while Matt and Chris went out to pick up some groceries.
“Babe, what’s wrong?” He asks concerned, his arm wrapping around my shoulder, pulling me into a side hug as we sat together.
I open my mouth to speak as my eyes meet his, but all that comes out is a sob. My hand moves to cover my mouth as more sobs follow. Nicks face creases in worry as his other arm wraps around me, pulling me into a hug as he rubs my back soothingly.
“Deep breaths, babe. Whatever it is, it’ll be okay,” he tells me, making me jerk back as I shake my head.
“No it won’t! He’s going to hate me!” I cry.
“If you’re talking about Matt, that kid could never hate you,” Nick tells me, voice calm and reassuring.
“I don’t know, Nick,” I laugh without humor, “this might.”
“Did you cheat?” Nick asks face calm, but apprehensive.
“No! God no,” I immediately answer.
Nick gives a small smile at the quick response.
“Okay, highly doubted it when I asked anyway,” he laughs, “but I don’t know what else could have you so upset thinking he’s going to hate you. You can talk to me, I want to help. What’s wrong?” He asks again.
I sigh. Nicks my best friend. He’s how I met Matt in the first place. I really wanted to just talk to Matt about this first, but with LA traffic and all Matt probably won’t be back for another hour. I don’t think I can survive another hour keeping this all bottled up.
“Nick, it’s bad,” I begin, voice shaken.
“I don’t care how bad, I’m here,” he immediately responds.
I take a deep breath.
“I’m late.” I state.
If this wasn’t so serious, Nicks reaction would have been funny. He stares at me blankly for a moment, before his head cocks to the side a bit in confusion.
“Like, to an appointment?” He asks, lost.
“No, Nick,” I sigh, shaking my head, “my period is late” the last part comes out like a whisper.
Once Nick connects the dots his jaw drops open a bit in surprise, confirming my feelings.
“See! It’s so bad, Nick, this is so bad!” I yell, jumping up from the bed and beginning to nervously pace in front of where Nick sits, still shocked.
“N-no, it’s not bad!” He stutters as he watches me with wide eyes.
I stop pacing and just look at him.
“Really? Not bad? Your jaw dropped open like that because you were trying to catch a fly, then?” I ask sarcastically.
“Listen, I just got confronted with the fact that my best friend and brother fuck, I needed a second,” he defends, hands up.
“Nick, we’ve been dating a year. We dont go to bed and play clash of clans together,” I tell him, making him roll is eyes.
“I know! I know but I also don’t think about it and now we kinda have to think about it and I don’t like it!” Nick exclaims.
“Don’t think about it!” I yell back.
We pause for a minute, staring at each other before we both crack smiles at how ridiculous this has become. We laugh and I return to sitting next to him. Nick wraps his arm around my shoulder again and rests his head against mine.
“So, how late are we talking?” He asks, getting back to the important point.
“9 days,” I whisper.
“Okay. Not horrible. Could be later,” he says, nodding. I nod too. A moment of silence passes as I nervously pick at my nails and Nick stares at the wall, thinking.
“Well, I think we know what we gotta do.” He says, softly.
I turn to him, knowing too.
“Let me call Matt, he should still be at the store with Chris. They can pick up a test,” Nick says. I take another shaky breath before nodding in agreement. I get my phone out and go to Matt’s contact, dialing his number before handing my phone to Nick.
“Hey baby,” Matt’s voice comes through the speaker softly.
“Hey, it’s Nick,” Nick says, earning a confused noise from Matt.
“Nick? Why do you have her phone? Is she okay?” He asks quickly, his concern making me smile softly despite the stressful situation.
“Um,” Nick pauses, which only worries Matt further.
“‘Um’, isn’t a good answer when a guy asks about his girlfriend, Nick,” Matt responds quickly.
“Sorry, she’s okay, but we need you to pick up something else for her while you’re at the store,” Nick says.
“Okay, what?” Matt asks.
Nick looks at me, encouraging me to speak. I take a breath before taking the phone out of Nicks hands, taking it off speaker and holding it to my ear.
“I need a pregnancy test,” I tell him softly.
I cringe as there’s a moment of silence on the other end of the line.
“Okay, I can grab that. Do you need anything else, sweetheart?” He asks softly. I smile again despite the tears I can feel coming again.
“No, that’s it,” I whisper.
“Okay, we’ll be back soon, I love you,” he tells me.
“Love you too” I say back before hanging up.
Nick and I move downstairs, where he puts on a movie for us to distract us while we wait. I let myself be pulled into its predictable plot line as we wait for Matt and Chris to come home.
We both are startled out of our focus on the movie when we hear the front door unlock, followed by it opening to reveal Matt coming in with a mostly empty plastic bag in his hand, while Chris came in carrying the other groceries. Nick moves to help Chris and grabs some of the heavier bags from him, both of them walking to the kitchen while Matt walks over to me.
I stand as he meets me by the couch. He looks surprisingly calm, while meanwhile I feel like my insides are shaking with the anxiety I’m feeling right now. He gives me a small smile before wrapping me in his arms. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding as I relax into his arms, resting my head against his chest. He gives me a gentle squeeze as I feel him press a kiss to my head.
“Let’s head to my room, baby,” he whispers, pulling back from the hug and grabbing my hand to lead me that way. Once in his room, he hands me the bag with the pregnancy test in it before sitting on his bed. Before walking to our bathroom, I pause.
“Matt, I need to know what this will mean,” I tell him.
He gives a small smile and holds his hand out to me. I walk over and grab it. He gives my hand a gentle squeeze, before bringing it up to lips to give it a kiss.
“We’ll do it together. Whatever it is. Sure, I thought kids would be later. But, if now is the time, now is the time. I think I’d be more freaked if this was with some random girl. But with you? I know whatever happens, we will be just fine,” he tells me, before giving the back of my hand another kiss.
“You promise?” I ask.
“I swear,” he tells me.
I smile and nod, before heading to the bathroom. The test is quick and easy, and I’m soon done. I leave the test on the bathroom counter, set my timer for fifteen minutes, and come back out to sit next to Matt on our bed. I rest my head on his shoulder as Matt wraps his arm around me. We just quietly sit, both of us lost in our thoughts as we wait, only to be shaken out of our trances by my phone loudly going off.
I sigh as I stand and walk back to the bathroom to grab the test. I pick it up, careful to not flip it over to show the result, and walk back out to Matt. I stop in front of him. He gives me another reassuring smile as his hands come up to rest on my hips.
“Ready?” I ask, voice cracking.
“Yeah, baby,” he says.
I take a deep breath, knowing this small test in my hand could change everything for the both of us. But I look at Matt, looking up at me with so much warmth and comfort in his eyes, and it’s not so scary anymore.
I flip the test over, both of our eyes moving to see the result.
Negative.
“It’s negative!” I say, laughing. He smiles too, standing and pulling me into a tight hug. We both rock back and forth as we hug, feeling relief. We pull back from the hug and Matt kisses me softly. We both smile into the kiss.
After we part, we walk hand in hand out to the living room where Chris and Nick both sit. They both give us smiles when we walk in.
“So, are we going to be uncles?!” Chris yells, practically bouncing on the couch in excitement.
Matt rolls his eyes, shaking his head while I laugh.
“No, it’s negative. My periods just late, that’s all. It happens sometimes,” I tell them, almost feeling bad when Chris pouts a bit.
We spend the rest of the night laughing and watching movies together, Matt holding me snug in his arms. That night when we go to bed, Matt says something that surprises me.
“Is it bad that I was just a little disappointed?” He asks me softly.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Well, when you first called and asked for the test I was freaking out on the inside. But then I talked to Chris a bit and the whole drive home I thought about it. And then I thought about a little us, a mix of you and me. And as life changing as a kid right now would be, I got excited,” he says, voice soft and quiet.
I smile, leaning in to press my lips softly against Matt’s.
“We’ll have a little us someday, just not quite yet.” I tell him.
“You promise?” He asks.
“I swear.”
#matt sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#nick sturniolo#chris sturniolo#sturniolo triplets fanfiction#matt sturniolo fanfiction#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo fic#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#matt
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IMPULSE ADRIFT.
warnings: none.
-
Sometimes you wondered what was wrong with you, and on the downlow, Jenna did too. Although she never minded your physicality. In fact, the more you did it, the more she yearned for it whenever you were near.
You had an addiction, to say the least. Not to drugs, alcohol, or even sex, but to the skin and bones that belonged to none other than your girlfriend. More specifically, her hands.
Left the apartment? Your hand was linked with Jenna’s.
Out to eat with friends? Hands were still linked together, settled beneath the table and out of sight.
Lazy day, maybe watching television together or lying in bed? Nothing changes.
Even at the end of the night, when the two of you are cuddled up in bed, awaiting sleep to take you both, your back is to her front and her arms are wrapped around you. That was the same position the two of you found yourselves in every night you were together, because neither of you liked unnecessary change.
Jenna preferred holding you before quickly falling asleep, and you preferred being held by the one you loved most while trying your hardest to stay awake in her warm embrace. It was because, unbeknownst to her, you would wait until she was asleep to engage in a small act of love.
When you would hear the faint snores that she would produce once in dreamland, you would move her hand that sat on your waist to hold them. You’d press light kisses to each finger as a symbol of your love for her, even if she wasn’t conscious.
You were always the first to awaken, and a burst of energy would radiate within you. A form of energy that only existed when Jenna was around. If she was off filming in a different country, you’d just sulk in bed for over an hour after waking up, counting the days until she returned to you before ultimately getting up in a mood.
A part of the energy you’d feel every morning consisted of wiggling your way out of your girlfriend’s grip and pressing a light kiss to her forehead before making her favorite breakfast, turning into housewife mode, and serving it to her in bed. You would not even have to wake her up; she could smell the hints of her favorite breakfast dish, accompanied by small cups of water and orange juice, from the closed bedroom door and all the way down the hallway.
She deserved more than you could ever give her, but you tried your best, and she loved that aspect of you.
“Good morning, my love,” is what you would say each morning when you walked into the room, food in hand, and watched Jenna rub her eyes. You’d set the food down on the nightstand next to her and crawl up to peck her forehead in the same spot you had when first awakening, followed by a kiss on the lips that Jenna would sleepily reciprocate.
She adored every routine the two of you had unintentionally set in place. It made her feel like your relationship was calm and organized, and it gave her a sense of relief she had once desperately searched for.
The periods the two of you had together were short, as movie role upon movie role stacked their way into Jenna’s calendar, but you made her forget about the upcoming stress she’d feel. You were there with her in the moment, and you were the only thing keeping her from breaking down due to the negativity of social media and her perfectionism, which was her mortal enemy at times.
You’d shamelessly cry whenever you said goodbye to her at the airport, because why feel shame over bidding farewell to the one you loved most for what felt like the thousandth time? Because of her continuous schedule, you’d sometimes not see her for months upon months, once going a whole year without seeing her because she had filmed two movies back-to-back. You’d always force yourself to remember the last action you’d give her—a kiss to the palm of her hand—and it gave you a sense of security knowing, despite the distance, you were still hers at the end of the day.
And just like you always did, you’d catch Jenna in your arms when she’d return from filming, feeling a growing wet patch imbed into your shoulder from her tears. You’d hold her tight at that moment, and you’d press a kiss to her palm once the two of you calmed down, in the same exact spot you had kissed her when she left you.
When you were together, you couldn’t go a day without kissing her, and you’d die if you went a whole day without even a brush of your fingers. Holding each other, whether hands or bodies, was a key part of your relationship, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
☟ ☟ ☟
taglist: @grandpatrolnut @annalestern @yara124 @daryldixonsw1fe @alexkolax @red1culous @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @idkwimdtbh
#crazyoffher#jenna ortega#jenna ortega x reader#wednesday addams#celebrity x reader#jenna ortega x fem!reader#wattpad#jenna marie ortega#vada cavell#phoebe atwell#lorraine day#lesbian
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The Fall from the Heavens (17)
[ dark • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]
[ warnings: angst, swearing, violence ]
[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]
The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.
Characters & Series Moodboard
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Next chapters: Masterlist
_____
Although she feared that her father and mother would hate her, although she suffered at the thought of losing her unborn sister, the day after they returned to King's Landing was the most beautiful day of her life.
After their nightly honest and painful conversation, at last they both shook off the burdens they had carried on their shoulders for so many years, confessing their regrets and thoughts to each other.
After this, there was some kind of change in her husband, as if he had expected this conversation to destroy everything once and for all, to turn them away from each other, when in fact the complete opposite had happened.
It helped.
When he took her on the table that afternoon, when she felt his thirsty, tender touch on her body, she thought that at last things were as they should be.
And then he smiled, lightly and sincerely for the first time since she had seen him years later.
Although they waited in dread for an answer from Dragonstone, this period was also a time of hope for them; the prospect of a peaceful resolution despite the approach of his grandfather and mother filled them with a reasonable calm that allowed them to take a breath.
They did everything they could.
No matter what she thought of her usurper uncle, he, unlike their grandfather, had imposed fair conditions on her mother, ones that she could in fact agree to.
The next day, like every morning, her husband was training in the courtyard with Criston Cole. Although she had been reluctant to poke her nose out of her chamber for the past few days, she now felt better and, encouraged by the beautiful cloudless sky lit by the sun, decided to go outside.
At this hour, as usual, the Red Keep seemed unusually quiet and peaceful to her, with only the guards and servants walking hurriedly past her, trying to keep up with their duties without even noticing her.
She smiled involuntarily when she heard the loud clang of steel and spotted them in the distance walking under the cloisters, just as she had then, as a child, watched her uncle duel. She thought with some kind of pride, watching the sure, swift slashes of his sword, that only Daemon could now match him in hand-to-hand combat.
She felt a pleasant satisfaction at the sight of her uncle pushing against Ser Criston, leaving no one under any illusion as to who was dominating the duel.
Cole knew that her husband had taken it out on him for what he had done to her and forced him to give in every time.
She lifted her chin higher, sighing contentedly as the blade of his sword pressed against his neck, Cole raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.
Her uncle turned the hilt of his sword in his hand and lowered it, a dangerous grin full of mockery and satisfaction on his lips; he stopped in mid-motion, his eye spotting her in the distance, seeming not to recognise her at first. He blinked, watching her from afar.
Encouraged by his attention, she walked down the stone steps into the courtyard, squinting, blinded from the sun; her husband stabbed his sword into the ground, coming towards her with a lazy step.
"What is it?" He asked uncertainly, his face expressing concern and surprise, his eye wide open, as if he could not believe she had left her chamber of her own accord.
"I have always enjoyed watching you duel. Does my husband deny me that pleasure?" She asked softly; she saw his Adam's apple wave as he swallowed hard, his lips parted slightly.
"Tis not my desire." He hummed, and she felt a pleasant shiver run along her spine at his words.
She felt as if they were children again.
There was something wonderful about it, something joyful, something that made her feel a renewed desire to live.
She trembled when he tentatively raised his hand, when his fingers touched her cheek, when his thumb ran over her jawline, his eye watching her thoughtfully.
When he leaned in, when he pressed his warm lips to hers in a soft, wet kiss she felt a wonderful heat in her lower abdomen, her heart sang with pleasure, her fingers touched his wrist.
He pulled away from her, looking at her with misty gaze; she could smell his sweat, hear his quiet murmur of contentment as she stroked his cheek with her palm, when her lips placed a soft, butterfly kiss on the tip of his nose.
She knew that Criston Cole, the guards, the servants could see this and it delighted her most.
Though distrustful at first, she agreed after her husband's persuasion to accept an invitation from her uncle to dine with him and Helaena in his chamber.
She felt that in doing so, Aegon was creating a faction inside the faction, showing his mother and grandfather that the fate of what was about to happen no longer lay in their hands.
Although she believed that Alicent did in fact want to protect her children, she did not trust their grandfather and knew that Aegon had no love for him either.
As it turned out, his invitation had a double bottom.
"Furious Borros Baratheon is on his way to King's Landing with his daughter, whom he expects and agrees you should marry. I fear he will regard your secret marriage as invalid and demand that you fulfil your vows." Said her uncle, putting himself a bit of roast from the tray, handing it to his sister-wife, who looked at her uncertainly.
She felt her heart begin to pound like mad, terrified, and looked out of the corner of her eye at her husband, his lips pressed into a thin line.
"It's out of the question." He said coolly, and she felt instant relief at the thought that he hadn't changed his mind.
That he wouldn't betray her.
"I am aware of that, however, the matter is delicate and complicated. I have decided, on the advice of my wife, to simplify it. Today you will marry in the presence of the Septon."
She and her husband looked at each other in shock; the loud conversations of servants and guards could be heard from behind the open window. Aegon took a deep sip of wine from his cup, putting it down on the table with a loud clink of steel.
"The King and Queen will witness your wedding. The Septon will write a proper marriage act, which he will sign under threat of losing his head. This will officially settle the matter and enrage Borros Baratheon, but it will also surprise him. I will then offer him a seat on the Small Council for his son and financial compensation, which you, my brother, will cover from your annual income."
Said her uncle; she heard her husband turn in his chair beside her with a loud creak of wood and nod, swallowing hard, playing with his cup in his hand.
She glanced up at Aegon and frowned as she saw their eyes meet; she lowered her gaze immediately, thinking with disapproval that although part of her abhorred him, it was only because of him that there was any hope for her and his brother.
"Do you love him?" She heard his impassive, calm voice, saw Helaena and her husband move uneasily in their seats.
"− Aegon −"
"I am not speaking to you." He replied coldly to his brother, looking at her, stretched out comfortably in his chair.
She looked at him in disbelief and swallowed loudly, feeling her lower lip begin to tremble, tears of pain gathering in the corners of her eyes at his question.
Gods.
"I stayed here for him. I gave myself to him." She muttered regretfully; Helaena quickly grabbed her hand lying on the table, squeezing it in her own.
"My brother has been calling you a little whore all these years. He used to say: she surely fucks with her guards like her pathetic mother." He said softly, cocking his head, curious about her reaction. She noticed out of the corner of her eye that her husband had covered his face with his hand, devastated, his sister cast him a quick, sharp look full of regret.
She involuntarily chuckled at his words, feeling the pleasant evening breeze flowing in through the open windows envelop her heated cheeks.
"I am aware of it. He shared those very thoughts with me the very first evening when we spoke to each other years later." She sneered; Aegon burst out laughing loudly, placing a hand on his stomach, shaking his head in disbelief.
"Indeed, it sounds like something my younger brother would do."
After her uncle shared the details of his plan and informed them of the location of their clandestine meeting, they returned to their chambers to prepare. Her husband escorted her to the door, tense; she could feel that what had been said filled him with anxiety.
"Do you still wish to do this?" He asked in a hoarse voice, as if he thought what he had thought of her over the years and what she had learned might have influenced her decision.
"And has anything changed, uncle?" She answered question for question; she saw that he threw her an impatient look in which relief lurked at the same time.
"No."
"Then you have your answer."
As promised, Helaena brought her one of her rich gowns; being a prisoner in King's Landing, she only had a few of her garments, as the rest of them were left in Dragonstone. Her aunt helped her comb her hair, forming a bun from some of the curls at the nape of her head, surrounded by braids, letting the rest flow freely down her back.
The gown she'd brought her was gold, with open, exposed shoulders and wide sleeves slit at elbow height, its cut perfectly emphasising her pleasing figure. Looking at herself in the mirror, watching as she put pins with gold pearls into her hair, she thought that this was not how she had imagined her wedding day, but she felt happiness nevertheless.
She knew that this time it would look the way it should.
Her aunt had put a plain grey cloak over her shoulders and placed a hood over her head, hiding her attire that might arouse suspicion. Looking straight into her eyes, she thought with warmth in her heart, squeezing her hand in her own, that during this time she had been watching over her, being there for her during the hardest moments of her life.
"I am grateful to you for everything you have done for me. I wish your husband would give you what you deserve." She muttered, stroking her skin with her thumb, wanting to show her in any way that she also wanted her happiness. Helaena stroked her shoulders, turning her head, her gaze dreamy and calm, her lips curved in a gentle smile.
"He is the father of my children." She said softly, folding her hands on her womb, looking somewhere far away thoughtfully. "And it is only the fate of our children that matters."
They left her chamber together, not speaking to each other, heading ahead along the corridor; just as they suspected, they came across guards who wanted to know where the princess was taking the prisoner.
"To the King, as ordered by him."
"Queen Alicent has commanded that she not leave her chamber after dark."
"I am the Queen, Ser."
The guard swallowed loudly, looking at his companion, and then nodded, letting them pass.
Helaena grasped her hand, turning suddenly, leading her down a steep staircase into an underground lit only by barely smouldering torches.
It was rare for anyone to go down there, judging by the smell she concluded it was a former larder. She shuddered as she heard a rat run past her feet and swallowed loudly, wondering how Aegon had found this place and what he was doing here.
After a moment they emerged from the dark corridor into one of the chambers where she spotted three figures − a man of similar age to their grandfather dressed in modest grey robes tied at the waist with a cord, next to him stood Aegon and her husband. She swallowed loudly seeing his attire.
He wore a dark red tunic with gold ornaments in the shape of writhing dragon heads, she had never seen him in such colours before.
Neither Green nor Black, just like her.
Their marriage was supposed to be beyond division, a symbol of reconciliation.
For some reason she felt distress and anxiety, as if this was indeed her first wedding; her hands trembled as she untied the knots of the cloak she had pulled off with the help of her aunt, her golden gown shining in the firelight. She saw her uncle-husband's pupil narrow at this sight; he swallowed hard, trailing his gaze across her entire figure, tense.
She looked uncertainly at Helaena, and she nodded, so she gathered her courage and moved ahead, this time of her own accord, fully aware of what this entailed by going to marry the man she thought she had lost forever.
She felt the Septon cast an uncertain glance in Aegon's direction; he nodded, ordering him to begin. The man grunted quietly and turned to her husband.
She involuntarily breathed through her mouth as she stepped in front of him, playing with the fingers of her hands in a nervous gesture, looking straight into his eyes.
The expression on his face a mystery to her, his gaze seeming to almost burn her, piercing and dark.
"You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection."
She saw her uncle swallow heavily, turning towards his elder brother, who handed him a golden cloak embroidered in shiny red thread with their family crest. With a sweeping gesture, her uncle placed the cloak over her shoulders; she was unable to look away from his face, hearing in her mind his words spoken in rage to her father.
She is my wife.
Who her father was no longer matters, for she belongs now to my family, for our children will bear my name.
She heard him swallow hard, clearly filled with extreme emotion as much as she was – she sighed as he took her hand in his, lifting it up.
"We stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife: one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder."
Said the Septon tying their entwined hands with a ribbon, thus symbolically uniting them for eternity.
She could not believe that this was really happening.
"In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon one another and say the words." Said the Septon lowly, and they looked at each other, breathing loudly, clutching their fingers tightly.
"Father,
Smith,
Warrior,
Mother,
Maiden,
Crone,
Stranger
I am hers | I am his
and she is mine | and he is mine
from this day, until the end of my days."
They both fell silent, hearing the echo of the words they had spoken spread around them, looking at each other in disbelief.
She could see that his lower lip was trembling, his nostrils twitching in accelerated breath, his eye wide open, red with emotion.
He should say that he was sealing the marriage with his kiss, but it seemed to her that he was unable to get anything out.
He was moved.
This thought, the thought that he really craved this, that he had really waited for her for so many years, hating and desiring her at the same time made warm tears one after another flow down her cheeks; she pressed her lips into a thin line feeling her breasts rise and fall in quick, ragged breaths.
And then he did something she hadn't expected, which was sweeter and more tender to her than any kiss.
He drew her to him, locking her in a desperate, strong embrace of his arms; his fingers dug into her skin hidden beneath the thin material of her gown, cuddling his face into the hollow of her neck.
They were husband and wife.
#aemond fic#aemond fanfiction#aemond targaryen#hotd aemond#prince aemond#prince aemond targaryen#aemond#aemond one eye#aemond x oc#aemond x original female character#aemond x original character#aemond smut#aemond targaryen smut#aemond x female#aemond x niece#canon aemond#hotd smut#ewan mitchell smut#aemond angst#aemond targaryen angst#hotd angst#ewan mitchell angst#aemond fanfic#hotd fanfiction#hotd fanfic#hotd fic#aemond the kinslayer#aemond fandom
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You don't need to worry about the ATSV fandom dying. As someone whose been in the Marvel fandom over ten years - I can assure you this is natural.
The ATSV Fandom Isn't Dead: A brief look into the science of fandoms.
[me standing beside Hobie beaming my thoughts of love and adoration into his head like I'm professor x]
A lot of people are afraid of the ATSV dying - and I don't blame them.
In the era of shows releasing all in one day, or movies coming to streaming almost immediately - it's not hard to say we're in an era were content is consumed at ridiculously rapid rates.
I mean, this time last year Wednesday was breaking records on Netflix. Where's the hype now?
I know you see it too, there's less posts everyday in the Hobie tag, less screenshot breakdowns, etc etc etc.
But I'm here to tell you - The ATSV fandom is doing just fine. Better than fine. All of this is meant to happen.
Let me put it into perspective.
ATSV released on June 2nd - it's November.
ATSV released a little over six months ago.
For reference: The Avengers (2012) was released on May 4th.
The Avengers DVD wasn't available for purchase until SEPTEMBER 25th - almost SIX months later.
The time that the Hobie fandom has formed and existed - is the same amount of time people had to wait just to see The Avengers again.
Large periods of time where tags only get three posts a day TOPS was nothing to fear. xReaders and fanfics held the fandom over until the next trailer, the next sneak peek or leak.
Prior to the release of streaming, only a little more than ten years ago - it was NATURAL for a fandom to wait six months before even seeing the movie for a second time.
And mind you - streaming didn't exist. If you wanted to see The Avengers again, you had to go out and BUY it. $26.99.
If you wanted to order it online - you'd have to get it shipped to you. Before Disney plus, we watched on BlueRay Discs.
And the fandom was fine and healthy.
If a fandom that doesn't even have a DVD release can keep up content for six months, I think we'll be fine.
But I'll admit - there's still the question:
If the ATSV fandom is 'doing fine' then where is everyone going? Why are the tags getting slower?
The answer is simple:
FANDOM BIOLOGY
I LOVE social sciences and the systems people create and how they work - even unintentionally.
And I have a theory - one about the natural evolution and regeneration of fandom. Hear me out -
When it comes to ATSV:
We are leaving the Analysation Phase, the phase in which content creation is centered around deciphering and breaking down the most recent installment in the fandom.
During this phase usually see art of newer characters, new ships, meta breakdowns, easter egg point-outs.
We were in that phase.
Once the Analysation Phase dies down, usually main content creators may remain. The intermediate or liminal period.
The intermediate is usually when you'll see more x-reader art pop-up, the levels of fanart evening out as artists return to their favorite characters - usually incorporating any new ones they gained from the last installment.
Shitposts usually also become popular around this time, as the shock and weight of the story wear off, and we're more able to joke about the storyline a lot more light-heartedly.
That's why the intermediate point is often see as the passion 'dying out'.
When in fact, it is the fandom getting comfortable. Resting for the next phase.
And after a few months, the next phase comes:
The Speculation Phase:
The Speculation Phase cannot come until the Analysation Phase is over.
During the Analysation Phase the fandom begins to breakdown and digest the writers intentions. They integrate the new character into the story, and the fandom.
As the audience and fandom talk amongst each other, we get more solid ideas of who the characters are, what their motivations might be, and most important of all-
What they might do.
In the Speculation Phase we turn from the last installment - and start looking towards the future.
Let's take Hobie for example.
Looking at the timeline of the Hobie fandom, we can see a progression.
Originally taken as a punk-rockstar and little more, throughout the months the fandom began posting things about punk culture, the 70's, Hobie's motivation in the comics, and how that all correlates to him.
As the fandom analyzed, the collective zeitgeist and understanding of Hobie grew into something a lot more sound, and telling.
We looked at the parellels he provides in the story, and what kind of person he is.
And because if that we have seen a marked improvement in people's contextual understanding of Hobie - as a punk and a hero.
And now that we can understand him - we can predict him.
The same goes for Miguel - over the months, a lot of us have began to question if we know him as well as we think we do , if we really know the kinda person he is -
And if we really know what he's doing to do.
That's where the Speculation Phase comes in.
The Speculation Phase in fandom is when we see some of the most passion - and instead of tapering off overtime, it builds. More and more until the next release.
The Speculation Phase is when the fandom takes the analysis' and from there, they begin to theorize.
Now that we understand, we can begin to predict.
And this is arguably one of the most interesting parts in a fandoms natural ecosystem.
During the Speculation Phase, we can see a number of diverse opinions appear.
As more and more creators begin to gather their understanding, tips from the writers, new released news, and past comic book arcs, we start to see dozens of triguing paths the writers can take us on.
As more news releases, the more hype people get. I mean - imagine how you'll feel when they release the first new poster of Hobie, or Miles? Or when we get to see Miles.G in the trailer?
And with each new poster, or trailer, we're given clues. The theorizes develop more. And the plot thickens.
It's all natural.
So I can understand the fear. Only getting one or two new posts when you visit the Hobie tag can be a bummer. But it's natural and it's GOOD.
Y'all, we need to conserve our energy. We are in the liminal phase. And they never last long.
With the news of the voice actors back in the studio, and a cliff-hanger like we have - I can assure you, it's only a matter of time before we begin to see the theories, the trailer breakdowns, the people guessing what Miguel might do, or exactly how much tech Hobie is hiding.
And when that time comes we need to be READY. I can already feel it on the horizon.
I really wonder what they'll do with all that left over Hobie concept art.
Plus with explosion of Hobie approval, I wonder if they'll add him in even more. Hobie fan-service anyone?
Hmmm...
But chill y'all, we're on the right track -
-------------------------------------
If you read this far, as always THANK YOU SO MUCH!! And as a token of my appreciation, I hand you this Hobie. Hold him gently please
Bye 💗
#no proofread ever ever EVER#spiderman#atsv#spider man#marvel#across the spiderverse#hobie brown#spider punk#spiderpunk#Miles morales#miguel o'hara#miguel ohara#peter parker
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kinktober 2023 -> day 14
age difference - ukai keishin x reader
word count: 2,406
kinktober masterlist
The bell above the door dinged as you entered Sakanoshita Mart, your ears immediately being filled with the soft retail music that has always played in the store. Your nose twitched with the smell of cigarette smoke, an old familiarity to the scent that you had come to associate with a certain man. Said man was sitting behind the counter, feet pulled up and crossed on the desk before him, ruffling through what looked like a sports magazine, and the same old cigarette dangling lazily from his lips.
He briefly glanced up as the door chimed, before looking down at the magazine again. Seconds later his head shot up again, eyes wide this time, staring at you with his mouth dropping open, using a hand to pluck away the stick between his lips before it fell to the ground.
“Hi.” You smiled, still standing just inside the door, suddenly feeling shy after seeing his reaction. You had told yourself over and over that you would be confident when you met him again, that you would finally answer his sarcastic quips instead of just giggling silently at them like you used to. You weren’t the same as you were back in high school. And you needed to show him that.
Your little crush on Ukai Keishin was an age old story, starting from your third year in high school. You had been managing Kurasuno’s volleyball club when Takeda sensei brought Coach Ukai in, announcing that he would be taking the role his grandfather once held. You had sucked in a breath as you gazed at the man, taking in his casual orange hoodie and sweatpants, hair pulled back with a headband and the laziest little eye roll you had ever seen.
You were enamored.
That had been the start of your little schoolgirl crush, spending most of your time during practice staring at the man while he barked orders at the team. You had barely interacted that year, apart from volleyball related matters you needed answers to. You were unbelievably shy, and equally quiet. It had never bothered you, considering that you were surrounded by people who were larger than life and more than happy to take over the room. The year had been spent daydreaming about the Coach and taking in every little detail about him that you could.
That was three years ago.
Miyagi had not changed upon your return from college. It was no Tokyo, of course, where you had spent the last three years, the city that changed you as a person, but there was still that quiet charm to Miyagi that Tokyo just couldn’t emulate, a deep understanding of nature that you had missed during college.
That, and Tokyo could never quite replicate the man who had periodically haunted your dreams since you graduated high school.
You thought of him every now and then, maybe once a week you would wonder what he was up to. You knew from old friends like Daichi that he was still coaching for Karasuno, and the thought made you happy. He had found purpose with your team and he had carried on that legacy.
You wondered if the new managers thought of him like you did in your day. You wouldn’t be surprised.
You watched him now as he pulled his legs off the counter and sat up straight, watched as he traced his eyes down your figure. It made your breath hitch, and you tried not to smirk.
You hadn’t just gained confidence in the last three years. Tokyo had been really good for your body too. And you knew what this sundress made you look like. There was a reason you had put it on today.
“Hi.” Ukai finally breathed in reply, after what seemed like an eternity. You smiled and stepped closer to the counter, hands meeting the surface softly when you reached him. You watched him squash the cigarette into an ashtray and throw the magazine next to it carelessly, giving you his full attention.
“Didn’t know you were back in Miyagi.” He began, smiling up at you as he leaned against his arms on the counter.
You shrugged. “There’s no place like home.”
You immediately cringed at your reply. Ugh, so corny. This is not how you wanted things to go today. You were supposed to act sexy and alluring. To pull him in.
He chuckled a bit, resting his chin on the palm of his hand. His eyes never left you, only occasionally dipping down to look at your chest. You could tell he was trying to be subtle, but Ukai Keishin didn’t have one subtle bone in his body. The thought made you laugh internally.
“How’re you doing?” He asked.
“Good! I’m good. You?”
“Good.”
“Oh, good.”
You visibly did flinch this time, and Keishin snickered before standing up. You blinked in surprise when he leaned over the counter, closer to you.
“Why are you here, Y/N?”
He had never called you by your first name before. You stared at him and how close he was. Merely ten inches or so away. And you couldn’t find your voice to answer his question.
“We’ve never been close.” He continued. “In fact, we barely spoke. You being here now, wearing,” a pause as his eyes skimmed over your figure, “that. There’s a reason for it. Tell me.”
Your heart was beating a mile a minute, nearly shivering when his eyes lingered on your deep neckline. Your face felt hot.
“I think,” you breathed. “I think it’s pretty obvious. Don’t you?”
He hummed before leaning back again, popping the little tension filled bubble you had created. You let out a breath, watching as he rounded the counter. You stayed rock still, ears perking up when you heard a little click, realizing it was the door being locked. Your nerves buzzed with excitement. Was this really happening?
You nearly jumped when his hand skimmed your side, fingers splaying out over the material of your dress. His breath brushed the shell of your ear, and your eyelids fluttered.
“I won’t do anything unless you say so.”
His voice was so low, so gruff, you bit your lip to keep from moaning. You could feel yourself getting wet at the proximity, wanting nothing more than to be closer to him. So you pushed back, your ass brushing his crotch. You sighed when you felt how hard he was, and the thought of it turned you on even more.
Keishin hissed at the contact, hands grabbing your hips tight to hold you in place.
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
Oh fuck. You flushed. You had missed that, truly. You had missed him being authoritative and imposing, ordering around a whole team to do as he wished.
“Ukai-san. Please.” You felt your face burn. “Want you.”
“Want me where?”
You whined, making him chuckle before he finally let your bodies come in contact. His front pressed to your back firmly, until you felt every shift of his muscles. His hands that were previously on your hips began to wander, stopping just below your breasts. His hot breath skimmed over the skin of your neck until goosebumps arose, and you pushed back against him again, this time harder.
“You naughty girl.” He breathed, teeth grazing over your skin before he bit down slightly. You leaned your head the other way to give him more access. “You came here just for this, didn’t you? You wanted to sleep with your old volleyball coach?”
At this point you were desperately grinding back on him, his lips mapping your neck like he was starved for you.
“I don’t see you hesitating.” You replied, loving the push and pull of your bodies, loving how his hips chased after you when you pulled away from him even slightly.
“You think I can resist this?” His hand traveled under the hem of your skirt, brushing your bare thigh. He traced the skin up, up, up until his fingers skimmed the edge of your panties. He dipped a fingertip into the fabric, feeling how soft you were, how warm you were. And wet. You were so wet for him.
“Fuck.” He groaned, pushing your panties aside just enough to slide a finger through your slit. The pad grazed your clit and you moaned loud, eyes closing in relief.
“You think I didn’t notice how much you stared?” He continued. “I knew. Way back then, I knew. See, I thought it was just a little crush. But here you are, three years later, all grown up and spreading your legs for me. Dirty girl. You’ve been wanting me all this time?”
You cried out when he chose that moment to sink a finger inside you, up to the knuckle, curling it immediately to rub your walls. You squirmed in his hold, but he was strong, strong enough to hold you in place and maintain the pace he had set inside you at the same time.
“You’re so tight, baby.” He grunted out, another finger joining the first one. “You done this before?”
“I’m not a virgin!” You bit out, trying to keep your legs from shaking.
Keishin laughed at that. “Sorry, sweets. Did I offend you?”
You wanted to say yes. Wanted to tell him you weren’t some goody-two shoes that he probably always thought you were. You wanted him to know that you wanted this. That you craved it. That the thought of sleeping with someone so much older, someone who had been a (sort of) teacher to you, was such a turn on that it made you drip right down his fingers and across his palm.
The next second, all sensations left you. His fingers and his back disappeared, leaving you cold and empty. Your hands gripped the counter tightly as you watched him round it again, settling lazily into the chair and watching you with half-lidded eyes. You blinked at him in shock.
“You want it bad, right?” He started. “Came all the way here for it. Well, come take it.”
He leaned back, spreading his legs. Your eyes fell to the massive bulge in his pants as he lit another cigarette, taking a long drag from it.
You didn’t have to be told twice.
You shakily stumbled to where he was, wasting no time in bunching up your dress and swinging a leg over him to straddle his hips. His smirk was sleazy and so sexy, fumbling with the strings on his sweats to pull them down just enough that his cock sprang out, hard as anything and drooling at the tip. You licked your lips.
You threw your head back and moaned in satisfaction when you finally sunk down on him, feeling him hit every spot right as he carved into you. He was bigger than any you’d ever had before. It felt heavenly, and as you watched him moan, eyes trained resolutely on you and cigarette still hanging from his lips, you felt like every dirty, wet dream you had ever had about the man was nothing compared to this.
You rolled your hips, testing the waters with him. His jaw ticked and you knew he was clenching his teeth, hand running over your bare thigh. You reached up to pull the straps of your dress down, lowering the neck until your breasts popped out.
“Oh, Jesus.” Keishin breathed, hand immediately reaching for one and squeezing. You started bouncing on his cock in earnest, loving the drag of him against your walls, but unable to go as deep as you would like, as deep as you knew he could go, unable to scratch that itch deep in your core. You whined.
“Ukai-san,” you bit your lip and gave him a pleading look. He stared at you for a few seconds before grinning, picking you up by the waist and pulling you off him. You stood on shaky legs, letting him manhandle you, turning you around and bending you over the counter, sliding back in immediately afterward like he couldn’t stand to be out of you for even one more second.
You nearly choked as he set a brutal pace, hands immediately scrambling to find purchase, anything to hold on to as he pounded into you. You let out a long, broken moan when he reached deep, deep inside you, toes curling from the sheer satisfaction of it. God, this was leagues above the dirty fantasies you had cooked in your head. Bent over this counter with your coach’s dick inside you. And he was so good, taking only a few thrusts to figure out the perfect angle to make you scream and clench around him, vision bursting with stars at the sensations coursing through your body.
Fingers carded through your hair at the back of your head, pulling hard until you were arching off the counter and making contact with Keishin’s body, his other hand reaching up to pinch your nipple hard. You yelped.
“Look at you,” he moaned, voice lower than you had ever heard it before. “Can’t stop screaming. Slut. Any of your college boys fuck you like this?”
You shook your head as much as his grip would allow, clenching harder around him at his words. You were being entirely honest. In your limited sexual experience, no one had come close to making you feel like this. Whether it was the raw anticipation of it, or if Keishin was really that good, you were already nearing your end. And it had barely been two minutes since he started.
He chuckled, sinking his teeth into your neck. Your eyes rolled up at the feeling. The knot in your stomach was getting tighter and tighter.
“You needed me to make you feel good, huh?” He groaned into your neck. “Little princess wasn’t satisfied. Needed a man to show you how good a cock can feel.”
You screamed as your muscles seized and the knot snapped, your orgasm washing over you in waves. Keishin fucked you through it, cock driving into you at an unforgiving pace. Your breaths were broken and struggling, trying not to completely fall apart as your vision clouded with tears.
Keishin pulled out of you abruptly, turning you around and setting you on the counter. One look at your flushed, sweaty face had him humming in approval, hooking his hands under your knees to pull your legs apart.
“I’m not done with you yet.”
Taglist:
@bxbyyyjocelyn @thisbicc @lazuliquartz @dreamayy @kuroosluthoe @true-form-hoe @akumakitsune21 @cham0mil3-and-h0n3y @samisfunky @universal-s1ut @msbyomimi @dohwaesu @leothesquishy @n0tmykays @tsukiran @reyofsunshinelol @bleach-your-panties @galaneiaeris @leyra-giovanni @erenspersonalwh0re @peachesncats @soapsoftheworld @iwannabecamiloshovel @vintagevict0ria @smithieandy @moonlit-mizukage @snazzyturtles
A/N: For those whose tags arent working, im sorry! I tried and for some reason, your names wont show up in the mentions :( another way of being notified is to turn on my blog notifs for @teamatsumufics . I only reblog my fics there so it serves almost like being in a taglist!
#kinktober#ukai keishin x reader#ukai keishin smut#ukai keishin x you#ukai keishin x y/n#ukai keishin fic#ukai keishin imagines#haikyuu fanfiction#haikyuu imagines
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