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prettyfastcars · 2 months

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triggered | Mob!Lando

Summary: The two of you had broken up just weeks ago, and it was mainly his fault. But no matter how hard he tried to win you back, you never gave him the opportunity to. Lando hadn’t heard from you or seen you at all in those weeks. And when he did finally catch a glimpse of you, it almost made his heart stop. He hoped he’d find you at a club, or walking down the city streets. He didn’t expect to find a suggestive photograph of you on another man’s phone. And that triggered his anger and jealousy in a way that nothing ever had before.

Themes: exes-to-lovers, jealous!lando, smut, cam girl!reader, lowkey toxic ex!lando, degrading kink, brief aftercare, mild gun play, mild daddy kink

All he saw was pure red.

Earlier this evening, Lando walked into one of the clubs he owned in this city to hopefully drink enough to forget all about the torturous day he’d had. It seemed like ever since the two of you broke up, he had only been having bad days. Mainly because half the time he was busy thinking about you and his brain wasn’t functioning well.

So tonight, after a long day and the longest week ever, he just wanted some drinks and some peace. But of course, life had to torture him some more.

Lando was lounging in one of the couches in the VIP area, constantly having to turn down all the girls who wanted his attention. He barely even saw their faces, they all seemed blurry and since they weren’t you, he didn’t care. So there he was, chilling when he heard a group of men nearby, over on the next couch, laughing and ‘ooh’ ing while looking down at one of their friends’ phone.

As much as he wanted to have them kicked out for their loud, annoying voices, he couldn’t because they were some of the regulars. The group was here almost every weekend. And part of him was also curious to know what had their attention like that. So he listened intently as the guys proceeded to make vulgar comments on pictures that a woman sent one of them apparently. The club was loud, but he was close enough to be able to hear part of their conversation.

“So did you like, ask for this?” One of them asked.

Then the one on whose phone the video was sent, he assumed, answered, “She’s like a cam girl who also does like a private chat thing if you send her enough money. So I requested pictures and she sent these.”

The men laughed, slapping the guy who received the video on the back like he was a hero.

Another asked, “So what’s her name?”

“I don’t know. She always wears hot bunny costumes and she...”

The rest of what he said did even register in Lando’s brain. He totally froze on the couch for a second there.

Bunny costumes? Surely not…

Lando knew of your past as a cam girl. You used to be quite a successful one too. But you stopped when you and Lando started dating about a year ago. Not because he wanted you to, but because you didn’t need the extra money anymore since Lando spoiled you rotten.

His heart raced faster than the cars he liked to drive when he realised how many bunny costumes you owned. It was your go to Halloween costume each year. Plus during your cam girl days, you were known for them.

It can’t be you, right? You wouldn’t… right? Not when he couldn’t even breathe right whenever he thought about how you had ‘broken up’ with him.

He felt hot and cold at the same time, and something, like a twisted gut feeling told him something wasn’t right. So Lando quietly signalled one of his guards over and asked him to bring him that phone that was currently being passed around within that group of men, and also asked him to kick that whole group out.

Within a minute or two, the group was gone and that damn phone was in his hand. And Lando lost it for a moment. All he saw was red, his heartbeats echoed in his ears, his hands shook. He had never felt this level of rage before.

On the screen was a picture of a woman, scantily dressed. Black fishnets, black bodysuit, black bunny ears, black high knee socks. He tightened his grip around the phone so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if the screen cracked. The woman’s face was turned away, but Lando would recognise that body anywhere. A body he had touched, tasted, fucked too many times to count.

It was you. And the red neon sign behind you only served as more proof that this picture was taken in your bedroom. A bedroom he was in just weeks ago, arguing with you before you two broke up.

He was breathing heavily as if he’d run a marathon. He checked the date and time of the picture and turned out you had sent it that evening itself, and that only fueled whatever murderous rage had taken over him.

Lando pocketed the stranger’s phone, and pulled out his own and called you. Of course you didn’t pick up and that only pissed him off even more.

Within the next minute, Lando was out of the club, in his car and speeding towards your penthouse. He could barely think straight. He could barely function, it was a miracle he was still able to drive properly.

His heart raced as he surpassed the speed limit like the law meant nothing to him. It rarely ever did but right now, all he cared about was finding you and fuck, he didn’t even know what the fuck to say to you. But he would remind you that you still belonged to him.

He knew it would only piss him off even more but he pulled out that guy’s phone again, and with a few taps he found that damn picture again. He kept an eye on the mostly empty road as he swiped left and right to see if there were more pictures.

There were a couple more. Same outfit, different angles. Always with your face hidden. Lando nearly threw the phone out the window but he knew he’d need it when he would confront you. So he tossed the phone aside, and punched his steering wheel instead. He hoped the pain would maybe take his focus away from the rage he felt, but he barely even felt the punch.

He was shaking by the time he reached your penthouse. His entire being focused on only getting to your floor and knocking on your door. He barely even remembered if he had parked his car in the right spot.

He took deep breaths in the elevator, trying to talk himself out of breaking down your front door the moment he got to it. It was late at night, so even if he did break down the door your neighbours would surely hear it and come investigate.

And for what he had planned for you, he didn’t want an audience. Fuck, he was barely able to think straight after finding a picture of you in another man’s phone. He was certain he would commit heinous crimes if ever someone saw you half naked like that in real life.

He banged loudly on your door. He could hear nothing but silence on the other end. But he knew you’d be home. Since less than an hour ago you sent pictures to a random man.

He called out. “Open up, babygirl.” Lando growled, banging both of his fists onto the wooden door. The sound was loud enough that he could hear it echoing inside the spacious penthouse. He waited to hear something, and he did. Some kind of movement from the other side of the door, but the door remained locked. He yelled louder, “I will break down this door if I have to, baby. Is that what you want? Want me to cause a scene?”

Apparently you didn’t because the moment those words left his mouth, he heard a familiar click. The door unlocked, but remained shut. He would’ve smirked and felt triumphant if it wasn’t for the fiery anger inside him which tried to claw its way out.

Lando opened the door, rushed inside and slammed it shut behind him. At that point, he didn’t care who heard the commotion he caused. The moment his eyes met yours, he stopped giving a fuck about anything else.

You stood near the entrance. Back against the wall like it would protect you from him. And what pissed him off even more was that you were still wearing that damn costume, minus the bunny ears, from the picture. Something in him snapped as he nearly pounced on you like an actual predator in the wild.

Grabbing you by the neck, he pinned you to the wall. Ignoring your pleas, he pulled out that guy’s phone, found that damn picture and shoved it in your face.

“Care to explain what the fuck this is?!” He snarled, squeezing your throat just a little.

You didn’t have to look at the screen to know what he had found. You didn’t know what kind of twisted invisible string this was, that even after breaking up brought Lando back into your life. Like this no less. You’d been ignoring him for weeks, but somehow he found his way to you now.

“That is none of your business.” You said, causing him to tighten his grip around your neck. Still, you whispered, “What I do is none of your problems anymore. We’re–”

Lando cut you off by throwing the phone to the ground with enough force that it broke and bounced off the floor and hit the front door. Then he leaned closer to you, his eyes quickly scanning your barely dressed body.

Your body reacted the same way it did back when you were together. All Lando ever had to do was give you those bedroom eyes and you’d be dragging him to bed no matter the time of day.

His other hand reached into his pocket and he pulled out the shiny gun he always carried. It had his name engraved on it and everything. He used to let you play with back when–

Your thoughts came to an immediate halt when he carefully pressed the cold barrel of the gun to your parted lips, his eyes staring into yours. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little scared of him at that moment. After all, he hadn’t earned the reputation he had for nothing.

“Keep talking, come on.” He whispered, dangerously calm now. “Tell me more about how you’re not my problem anymore.”

He scoffed when you shivered, trailing the barrel of the gun down your body. Leaving your lips, down your chin, down in between your breasts. The almost see-through bodysuit didn’t leave much to the imagination and it both pissed him off and turned him on. He dragged the gun across your stomach, and further down until he pressed the barrel in between your legs, making you whimper like an actual bunny.

He rubbed it in between your legs briefly before dragging it back up your body. “You wanted to be a slutty, little bunny so bad, didn’t you?” He cooed in that voice that sent shivers all over your body. “Go on then, run and hide. Hide as best you can.” He tapped the barrel of the gun on your lower lip a couple of times before saying, “And when I find you, I will remind you exactly who you belong to.”

With that he pulled away, took a few steps back and gave you room to run. It was cruel, whatever game he was playing. But it was messing with your head, turning you on.

Seeing you weren’t moving, he added, “I’ll count till ten. Better get moving, little bunny.”

You ran, hearing him count in the background as your heart raced. The penthouse was spacious, with many nooks and corners to hide in. Like the wine cellar for instance. But Lando knew each and everyone of those hiding spots. He was the one who gifted you the penthouse after all. Besides, no matter how well you hid he would end up finding you anyway.

Still, you ran deep into your walk-in closet and hid behind your thich coats. Crouched down in a corner, you waited to hear if he was coming. His voice reached you before he did.

“I’m coming to find you.” Followed by a deep, scary chuckle. “And when I do, I show you exactly what happens to bad little bunnies who misbehave.”

Time felt like it went by in slow motion as you listened intently for his footsteps. You heard it approaching. Then you heard your bedroom door opening and shutting.

“You’re so predictable,” He sounded disappointed. Yet his voice made you clench your thighs together all the same.

And you were too busy trying to process how your body was reacting to the fear, the sound of his voice, the anticipation of what was to come, that you didn’t hear him enter the closet.

“I know you’re in here,” He called out in a voice that was so calm it made your heart pound even harder. “I can hear you trembling behind those coats, babygirl.”

Shit.

You barely processed it all when his hand reached in and grabbed you by the arm, dragging you out of your pathetic hiding spot.

“Lando, please–,”

He cut you off by glaring at you and said, “On your knees.”

You quickly sank down to your knees in front of him, looking up to find a wild hunger in those pretty eyes of his.

He spoke up again. “Now come on, we both know what that pretty mouth is good at. Show me.” He grabbed you by the back of your neck. “You wanted so desperately to be a little slut, right? Sending pictures to random men, huh? Come on then, make it good for me like a slut would.”

His words put you under a spell. Your hands reached up to undo his belt, unzip his trousers and lower his underwear to free his erected cock.

“Come on, little bunny.” He hissed, watching you as you wrapped your hands around his cock and placed your mouth on him, your tongue slowly circling his tip.

Lando pushed himself deeper into your mouth. “Take all of me. This is all you’re good for, isn’t it bunny?” He threw his head back and let out a strained moan. “All you’re good for is sucking daddy’s cock…”

You kept your eyes on his handsome face as you sucked on his cock. Lips parted and gasping as he tilted his head back. He looked every bit the powerful man he was. He groaned as he took over, pushing deeper into your mouth, fucking it like he owned it.

“This is all you needed, isn’t it you little brat?” He taunted, as you gagged a little, taking him perfectly. “You wanted attention that bad, huh?” He hissed, fucking your mouth harder until your jaws hurt. “Isn’t that why you broke up with me? Because according to you I didn’t give you enough attention?” He thought back to that night you two ‘broke up’.

That menacing tone of his made you squirm and it only added to the dampness which was forming in between your legs.

He quickened the pace at which he moved in and out of your mouth. “All the trips, the cars, the penthouse, that beach house you threw a bratty fit for, all the shit I bought you. None of it was enough for your attention-seeking, bratty self, was it? Hmm?” When you didn’t respond, you earned yourself a smack on your cheek. “You still had to go look for more from another man, is that it?”

You glared at him upon hearing the insinuation in his words.

“Did you think anyone else could treat you like I do? Did you think another man would spoil you like I do?” His stare intensified when you dragged your tongue lazily over the slit on his tip, tasting some of his come and moaning as you did. Smirking, and just to push your buttons he asked, “Did you suck him off like this too?”

That did it. You pulled away, snarling at him, “Fuck you!”

You stood up fast, shoving at his chest. But he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer, his eyes focusing on your swollen lips. “So you cheat, and then you have the audacity to–,”

You cut him off by raising your voice and saying firmly, “I didn’t cheat! We broke up, remember?”

“And you are mine!” He hissed. “Remember that?”

Before you answered, his mouth was on yours. His kiss was rough and it hurt in the best way. Lando pulled away for a brief moment, squeezed your cheeks so you couldn’t close your mouth. Glaring at you, he spat in your mouth before kissing you again.

It was hot. And messy. And you were too lost in him to think straight, so much that you didn’t realise he was dragging you towards your bed until he pushed you down on it.

Then he pointed at the red neon sign above your bed with a lethal look in his eyes. “This is where you took the picture, isn’t it?” His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, “Like a needy little slut.”

You were quiet. Your brain was too foggy with lust to function.

“Why’d you do it?” He asked, sliding his rough hands up and down your parted thighs. You spread them even more the moment he touched you and he smirked when he noticed it. “Was it for money?” He taunted, knowing full well he’d put enough money in your account for it to last a lifetime.

All you did was whimper as he crawled on top of you, looking down at you like he couldn’t decide what to do with you. He knelt in between your legs, his hands toyed with the thin material of your body suit, his fingers tracing the outline of it along your inner thighs, then he abruptly tore it, the fabric giving in to his strong hands.

His fingers tore at the fishnets as well, now exposing your wet folds to his dangerous stare. He touched you mindlessly, sliding his fingers up and down your slit, spreading your wetness around.

“You’re not gonna show off this body from now on, you hear me?”

“Now you have a problem with it?” You couldn’t help but scoff. “Isn’t that how we met?”

That earned you a slap on the thigh. You yelped in pain before glaring at him.

“Yeah we did. And now you’re mine so no one gets to see you like–,”

“But we broke up.”

Lando hated being cut off. But what he hated more than that was when you argued over stupid shit like this. “Say that bullshit again. I dare you.”

You gulped at the sound of his voice. Cold, bitter, threatening. He was getting on your nerves, and perhaps that’s why you whispered sassily, “We broke up.”

And that did it. His hand pinned you down on the bed by wrapping around your neck to keep you in place, while his other hand wrapped around his cock. Pumping it once, twice while holding your stare.

You could cry that’s how badly you needed him inside you. Lando wasted no time sliding inside of you. Giving you no time to even think, he moved in and out of you in a way that had you crying out loud.

He held your stare as he fucked you hard and fast, barely giving you time to breathe right. He leaned in again, whispering against the corner of your open mouth, “We broke up, huh? You think we’re done, babygirl? Is that why your pussy is strangling my cock?”

You could feel your face getting hotter as your walls clenched around him over and over again, as he sped up and pounded into you. You felt all of him stretching you out, filling you up, moving rapidly in and out of you until he was all you could focus on.

“Is this what you wanted, little bunny?” He whispered, pounding into you relentlessly as he bent down to bite your lower lip and tug on it. “Is this enough attention, baby?”

You moaned at how perfect his warm body felt on top of yours, his weight pressing down on you. He couldn’t even bother to get you properly undressed, but something about being so dishevelled as he fucked you, fishnets torn, bodysuit in tatters, it only made it hotter.

His slight stubble tickled your skin as he kissed your face and bit on your lip. Your legs trembled as his thrusts, relentless and unbearably good. The pressure around your lower body was familiar, tight and hot.

Lando looked at you as you tightened around his cock. He smirked, looking down to where his cock disappeared into you each time he thrust in. “See?” He whispered, “You’re all mine again. Only mine.” The possessiveness in his voice only made you clench around him again.

His hand squeezed your throat, making you moan even louder. “My dirty little slut. Look at you, all cock drunk.” He scoffed, giving you yet another messy kiss. “Are you gonna be good from now on? When you want something, you open that slutty little mouth and ask me for it, you understand? Be it attention, money, or some cock to fill you up.” He growled. “You come to me!”

You whimpered, unable to say anything because of how good he felt sliding in and out of you. Fuck, you had missed this. So much. You whined again when his hand let go of your throat, fingers trailing down your squirming body until his fingers found your clit, toying with it while he pounded into you mercilessly.

“Are you gonna be good from now on?” He stared deep into your eyes as he spoke. “You’re mine, and you’re damn lucky that guy didn’t touch you otherwise I would’ve fucking killed him.” He spoke in a fit of rage again, fueled by his lust.

“Please…” You whimpered, squirming and unable to hold back anymore. You needed to come so bad, you could feel your eyes tearing up. Your thoughts were a mess.

Lando leaned in to kiss your exposed shoulder while he fucked you. “Answer me first.” He whispered, his warm breath tickling your ear. “Are you going to fucking behave or not?”

“I will!” You squealed when he bit down on your shoulder.

“Good girl.”

And you couldn’t hold back anymore. You came undone all around him. Moaning and back arching off the bed as you came hard around his cock, tightening around him even harder than earlier.

Lando kept pounding into you as your orgasm washed over you, your walls squeezing him violently. Your body trembling under him. “That’s it, babygirl. Come for me.”

You could hear the untamed hunger in his deep, growly voice. He groaned until he came undone as well. You whined and whimpered as you felt him filling you up, his thrusts slowing down, his cum dripping down your thighs.

—

You didn’t remember when he cleaned you up and changed you into your favourite onesie before getting in bed with you. All you remember is waking up at some point during the night, cuddled up with him, safe and warm in his arms.

Lando was awake still, his fingers lazily tracing shapes over your back. You cleared your throat awkwardly and waited for him to say something.

“Why'd you do it?” He asked.

You were silent for a moment. Then answered, “I thought it was time I move on and earn my own money.”

“Your own money.” Lando scoffed. “You have money.”

“It's yours. I'm not gonna use your money when I'm not with you.” A pause. “I've started looking for an apartment, I'll move–,”

He cut you off by twisting his body, and yours, so you laid on your sides facing each other. Even in the dark you could feel the intensity of his stare. He grabbed your chin roughly and spoke in that low, menacing voice. “You are gonna stop with this nonsense.”

“But–”

“Shut the fuck up, baby. Don't piss me off.”

You frowned but kept quiet for a few moments. Having him be this close to you reminded you of how addicting he could be. His handsome face. His pretty eyes. His touch. The way he couldn’t help but order you around. He was infuriating. But he made your heart flutter.

“So,” You mumbled, “Now what?”

Lando let go of your chin and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you into him. He ignored your question, and instead asked, “Are you in pain?”

You quickly assessed your body and replied, “Just a little sore. That bite on my shoulder hurts though. It's gonna leave behind a mark.” You wrapped an arm around his lean waist too.

“Good.” He said arrogantly. “It'll remind you that you belong to me.”

#lando norris x reader #mob!lando #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris #lando norris smut #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

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pellucid-constellations · 9 days

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If It All Fell (8)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: Angst, pining, injury

a/n: I appreciate thoughts and reactions more than you know!!! <333 Italics indicate flashbacks.

Series Masterlist (all parts ♡)

The next two weeks were interesting.

In the first few days after the accident—the ones filled with confusion and incorrect suspicions—you had spent most of your time alone or sleeping. Mor visited your bedroom every morning to share limited information about your past, but there was no routine beyond that. Everyone tiptoed around you, too afraid to set off the timebomb they assumed was your mind.

But Helion had disputed that assumption.

You were allowed to know who you were, to become the person you had been.

So, a routine began to form.

Breakfast early in the morning, usually with a random assortment of the inner circle. Mor was always present, keeping up with her responsibility of telling you about yourself. Cassian joined more often than not—an early riser, he deemed himself. Azriel made it when he could. He was always busy in the morning. Doing… something, everyone told you.

Rhysand would join you after the meal, whisking you away for an hour or two to work on the powers you still could not call upon. He would have a different objective in mind every day and it was your job to parse out what it was.

You failed.

Obviously.

He started bringing in random Velaris citizens instead, but you still felt nothing. It was nice to see the smiling strangers; they were all kind to you, all apparently knowing who you were. The vagueness surrounding them leveled the playing field more. They didn’t know your whole life story and you weren’t supposed to know theirs.

“You’ve explained it to me before,” Rhysand had said. “It’s a vibration, sometimes a light or a color. You see it around them, feel it. You understand a deep part within them that they don’t even know they’re revealing.”

Well, there was never any light or vibration or color. You could never tell that the fae were lying or that Rhysand was planning something big for his anniversary with his mate. None of this otherworldly intuition that the Night Court seemed to value so highly. It was all just stagnant.

After spending some time failing with Rhys, you got to explore Velaris. You had insisted that you didn’t need a chaperone, and your family believed you—for a time. You had three whole days of walking around the city alone before that privilege was revoked.

Granted, it was your fault that it was revoked, but that was neither here nor there.

It hadn’t been your plan to get lost, just as it hadn’t been your plan to get caught up in a street brawl over a cart of potatoes. But when you weren’t at the designated meeting spot for Cassian to bring you back up the house, and when he found you with a bleeding nose an hour later, what you meant to do didn’t matter.

“Y/n?” you heard a voice shout, heavy footsteps shaking the ground beneath you. “Shit—y/n, look at me, you okay?”

Warm hands enveloped your shaking ones, drawing them back and catching sight of the red staining your fingerprints. It was Cassian, you realized, with his broad wings cloaking you in their shadow. The General’s expression hardened when he took in your face.

“What happened?” he asked, voice low, comfort combatting fury. “Where have you been? We have about 10 people looking for you, sweetheart.”

You grimaced—both at the pain in your nose and the notion of your family scouring the streets of Velaris. “I’m so, so sorry, Cassian. I got turned around and then I was in this alley and there was a boy—”

“Hey!” Defeat washed through you at the sound of another voice in the alley, all hopes for a peaceful return home washed away. “Is your girlfriend over there gonna pay for the product I lost?”

The Illyrian before you paused, body going still at the accusatory tone. Cassian’s jaw clenched and he turned, keeping you well behind him. You still caught a glimpse of the scene from between his legs, and the merchant—to his credit—had the mind to stop his taunting.

And to look afraid.

Really, truly afraid.

“You did this to her?” Cassian growled, fists clenching at his sides.

The merchant swallowed. “You’re—and she’s…”

“Did you. Do this. To her?” Cassian asked again, words broken up by malice.

A beat of pressing silence, only whispers of the street meeting your ears. The merchant took several, shaky steps back, but the movement damned him. His hands swayed with his backtracking feet, and red glistened on his knuckles.

Cassian’s wings flared at the sight. It only took a small uptick of his brow for the smaller man to fall to the floor in a plea.

“Please, please don’t kill me! I didn’t know who she was. Don’t turn me over to the Shadowsinger, I won’t make it! I have a family to care for—a wife! I was only trying to protect my crops and she butted in. I didn’t want to hurt her!”

The General hooked his chin over his shoulder and sent you a questioning gaze, one you were sheepish to answer. With a harrowing breath, you revealed, “There was a little boy stealing potatoes. He was going to hit him. I stepped in the way.”

A tug at your chest had you gasping as Cassian turned back around. The feeling had been persistent the moment you got lost, increasing after you’d been implicated in the merchant’s conflict. It pulled and pulled, a desperate winding around your ribs that you didn’t know how to relieve.

It had to have been fear. Or stress.

Cassian eyed the man crumpled to the floor. “Is the boy okay?” he asked, the question meant for you but directed across the alley.

“Yes,” you confirmed, pressing your hand to the blood running down your chin. “He ran away.”

Cassian grunted, sent a harsh warning to the man, and then crouched back down to your place on the ground, shaking his head in frustration. “Let’s get you home.” And then he grumbled, “I might get my ass kicked but…”

Cassian had not gotten his ass kicked when you got home, but many other things happened. Mor just about cried in relief, her arms thrown around your neck followed by a string of commands to never do such a thing again. Rhys rubbed at his jaw as tension lifted from the House. He also had a command—that you wouldn’t be traveling alone anymore.

And Azriel… Azriel looked like he would vomit, his shadows flitting angrily around him before bridging a path to you. He had cleaned the blood from your face, eyes haunted by misplaced grief, and pure guilt replaced all else in your myriad of emotions.

You agreed an escort would be better.

Azriel volunteered. Every day.

And so you got to know Azriel.

Mor had described him as reserved, not one to offer the intimacy of touch or personal information so readily. That was not your experience with the Shadowsinger.

Fleeting touches had become commonplace between the two of you, whether it was his hands or his wings or the brush of his thigh as you sat by the Sidra. You weren’t sure if he was doing it consciously, but you welcomed the familiarity. You found he did it most when he wasn’t paying attention—when he was deep into a story about your past or listening to your opinions intently.

He was open, sharing pieces of himself you didn’t have to pry to receive. He told you about his mother, about his scars, about how he overcame them. He shared with you how important you were to him many, many times, slipping it into conversations so causally. A thread connected the pieces of his life, and you, it appeared, made up the spool.

He did not speak of his mate, despite being prompted.

A sadness came over him at any mention of her, one so achingly melancholy that you told yourself you wouldn’t ask again.

He loved her deeply, but something had happened there.

You tried not to get too close. This was friendship, a deep familial love that he relied on. That you seemed to have relied on for so many years.

And Azriel was hurt. Even if he and his mate were no longer intertwined by their bond, he didn’t need the onslaught of emotions his amnesiac friend was suddenly overcome with.

Because you were—overcome by emotions for him.

It was wrong.

You wished you had the context to separate those feelings. If you understood your history—if you had memories beyond the few weeks of sweet stories and brushes of his fingers along your hair—maybe you wouldn't be feeling this way. Maybe your heart wouldn’t beat painfully against your ribs each time he entered the room… each time his eyes met yours as if he could feel your admiration for him within his own chest.

You wouldn’t be feeling this way, surely. Because no one had told you that you should be.

You only had the recounts of your friends, and the three of them had made no insinuations about you and Azriel.

You wished you could meet the rest of the inner circle.

There had been plans to, but then you came home with blood on your face and a disorientation in your eyes and that was suddenly off the table.

After your time exploring Velaris, you read.

Mor would pile your favorite books beside you in the small reading room you had come to love and rave about how great of an opportunity this was for you.

“You would kill to be able to read these for the first time again,” she’d laugh. “So have at it!”

Reading felt easy.

Books did not pressure you to remember things you weren’t able to.

You could see it all in their eyes, the way your family clung to each of your words for even a hint of reminiscence. They’d make a joke and hold their breath, desperate for the laugh that should be bubbling out of you. But you never got it, never making the connections that they did.

Azriel was the only one who’d catch the shame you felt at your lack of deliverance. Although he was the one with the most torture in his expression, he was also the one with the most understanding. He’d lean his head down and whisper what you needed to know in your ear, and then you’d giggle—for show—and hope would return to the room.

But nothing had returned to you.

You were still a shell.

“What do you think?”

Cassian’s question blanketed the table, forks halting their movements atop plates. Breakfast had just begun and you were dressed for a morning in Velaris at the theater, this time with Cassian.

“Are you sure that’s the best idea?” Mor questioned, eyeing the General beneath a raised brow.

“Were you there last week when I brought her home all bloody? I think it’s a great idea. Rhys agrees.”

“And Az?”

Cassian continued his breakfast, reaching for his drink. “Cassian—”

And so you found yourself steps away from the roof of the House of Wind—no longer in the comfortable daywear you’d been sporting—squinting into the morning sun. Leathers fitted for your body were laced up at your back and waist, stretching with a groan as you reached up to block the light from your eyes. Although the pain in your head had subsided to practically nonexistence, it often flared up in brightness or in times of stress.

Like when you stood atop a mountain and stared into the sun. Or got punched in the nose by a potato merchant.

“This is where I go while you go galavanting around the city,” Cassian chimed in, a grin evident in his words.

“Charming,” you muttered, still adjusting to the jarring assault of the sun.

The sound of grunts and clashing metal oriented you quicker, and as your eyesight settled you were met with the image of Azriel. He was bare-chested, leathers donning his legs as he pressed further and further forward, the knife you always saw at his hips hacking away at the metal dummy before him.

He moved so quickly that it was difficult to track him, one swipe after another, so carefully skilled and practiced. Sweat beaded down his tattooed skin. His wings rippled and spread in time with his footwork.

He was mesmerizing, a force of nature only halting as his shadows wound around his ear, whispering. Azriel whipped around, sheathing his knife at his side and staring out beyond the training ring with a narrowed gaze. He spotted you instantly, without looking near or around—a magnetic force.

Until he wasn’t looking at you, instead glowering in Cassian’s direction. “What are you doing, brother?” he bit out. The back of his hand made a quick pass along his forehead.

Cassian didn’t look the slightest bit sheepish, ushering you to the outskirts of the ring. “She’s going to train. Now that we know she won’t break at the slightest thing.”

Hazel eyes slid back to you, a softness overcoming them as you quickly averted your gaze from the broadness of his chest. You were not ogling him.

You bit into your cheek to stave off the embarrassment.

“I thought we agreed—”

“Az, come on. It’s been a couple of weeks now. We need to get her back in the swing of things.”

A crack of defeat edged its way onto the Shadowsinger’s face.

What had they agreed on? To wait it out? To treat you like glass until you were their version of yourself again? Something ugly licked up into your chest, something raw.

For a moment—just one—you stood on the sidelines and felt pathetic. While the two Illyrians stared at each other, a silent conversation between eyes, you let yourself feel like an outsider. They had had discussions about you, but not really about you. About the you that they loved—the one with memories and reciprocation.

“Will you be careful?” Azriel’s even voice snapped you out of the spiral you had initiated. His expression was uneasy, a hand pressed to his chest. “And tell us if you need to stop? If your head—”

“My head has been completely fine for a while now,” you assured, hands coming up to grasp the rungs of the training ring. “Promise.”

Azriel pressed his lips into a line but motioned you in with a nod of his head.

Despite the conflict still raging within your mind, you smiled at Cassian, the two of you letting out a small cheer and high-fiving before the General lifted you by your hips and past the rungs. You regained your footing and stood before the spymaster, meeting his level gaze with your own.

“Alright, sweetheart,” Cassian began, a loud clap resonating behind you. “Muscle memory is going to play a big role here, but I don’t want to risk you getting hurt, so you’re just with this guy for now.” He patted the shoulder of the dummy Azriel had been practicing with.

You scoffed, dropping your hands to hang by your thighs. “What? I still have the same muscle tone from before and last I checked my face was beaten in by a real person, not a chunk of metal.”

“And that will not happen again,” Azriel cut it. “Ever. But especially not when you’re… in this state.”

You ignored the unsettling remark. “Okay, well I think sparring one of you would be more effective in the prevention of that, don’t you?”

“Cassian and I could hurt you.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“We can’t guarantee—”

“I trust you,” you interrupted, your view of Azriel partially obstructed by the shadows that wound up your body. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me. Let me do this, Az.”

The male before you faltered, his eyes darting quickly between yours. His chest, gleaming in the sunlight, rose and fell with strenuous effort. A clench of his jaw. Another pass of silence.

“Okay,” he nodded, gaze roving over your features. “Okay, y/n. Get warmed up and we can spar.”

You warmed up with Cassian, stretching and relishing in the feel of your body moving. He went over a few basic maneuvers with you, and you tried your hardest to pay close attention to how his feet slid around the ring.

It was a rather hard task, seeing as Azriel had continued his blade work on the dummy. Still shirtless.

After the General was satisfied with your progress, he passed you off to his brother. The Shadowsinger’s posture had softened a hair from when you first entered the ring, his wings coiled back and his shadows creating uneven shapes along the floor. He kept his hands by his sides, his feet relaxed—not a fighting stance in the slightest.

“Come on,” you teased, cocking your head to the side. “You have to at least try, Az.”

“I did not spar with you often before your memories were lost,” he admitted. “I do not enjoy the thought of hurting you.”

Guilt immediately flooded you. You hadn’t even thought about what this would be like for him, too caught up in your own strife. Your stance dropped, the fists at your chin loosening and falling.

“Oh, Azriel, I’m sorry. I can have Cassian—”

“No.” He dragged his left foot back. A ghost of a fighting position. “Only me.”

You took a painful breath in.

He didn’t move, allowing you to lead.

You shook your hands out and then your body moved of its own accord.

You swiped at his legs first, unsurprised when he leaped back with practiced grace. The two of you fell into a dance of drawn arms and calculated shifts and you were almost unnerved by how your body moved without you willing it to.

Cassian had said that muscle memory would play a role.

It seemed to be the only thing driving you.

You went for his knees, but in a way that maneuvered past his wings.

You used his shadows as cover, taking advantage of their familiarity with you and cloaking yourself in their mist.

Azriel swung a halfhearted punch at your shoulder and you bypassed the motion, grabbing his wrist and twisting at his back.

It felt right. Your actions were not your own but they were ingrained in your being.

This was your body.

Something that remained unchanged.

In your newfound joy, you missed the open palm Azriel carefully directed at your chest. The impact caught you off guard, stealing your breath from your lungs as you were pushed to the ground. As your back hit the floor, another shocking burst of air was ripped from you.

You laid frozen for a moment before a shadow cast over your body, the sun no longer beating down on your skin. Through the ringing in your ears, Azriel’s voice flowed through.

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have—y/n, take a breath.” A scarred hand rubbed along your clavicle. “Breathe. You’re okay. Breathe.”

A startling gasp of oxygen entered your lungs. You were fine, completely unharmed, only shocked and disoriented. Azriel bowed his head as you continued to circulate the air into your body, and it was then that you saw it.

A chain hung between you, dangling from his neck and brushing against your chin. It swayed back and forth, a grounding point as you blinked back the tears lining your eyes. The ring glinted in the sun, rubbing against the golden chain, looking as if it did not belong there.

Azriel tracked your gaze as he raised his head, looking down at the object of your attention. He sat back on his ankles and the diamond followed him, resting close to his chest.

You raised yourself to your elbows. “Who’s—” You coughed. Azriel winced. “Is that yours?”

A stupid question, but you couldn’t stop yourself from asking. A guarded look passed over the Shadowsinger’s face and you regretted it instantly. He reached up and clutched the necklace in a closed fist.

“No,” he responded. “Are you okay?”

He didn’t release the ring.

“I’m okay,” you confirmed. “I’m not hurt. It just knocked the wind out of me.”

Azriel nodded. A grim line formed between his brows.

“Hey! She alright?” Cassian called. He had moved clear across the roof when you began to spar with Azriel, mentioning something about inventory or knives or something you hadn’t paid attention to. You had been too focused on the warmth you felt from being so close to Azriel’s skin.

The sound of Cassian’s voice did nothing to break the hold Azriel’s eyes had on you.

Another beat of silence passed.

The wind blew a strand of his hair across his forehead.

“I—”

“I have a mission. I was supposed to meet with Rhys before midday.” He spoke the words apologetically but his hand shook when it lowered to his knee.

The sun was already past the high point in the sky. It was no longer midday.

“Okay,” you whispered. “I want to thank you for—”

“Don’t thank me. Please, just—Be careful. I have to go.”

A quiet collection of parting words fell from your lips and Aziel twitched, looking as if he would move forward but thinking better of it.

But you had thoughts too, and they worked against Azriel’s

You raised to your knees and brushed the hair on his forehead back, a small smile gracing your face, trying so hard to melt some of the tension that had grown between you. Azriel’s breath caught as you moved, but you only doubled down, softly dragging your nails along his scalp.

He shuddered, eyes falling shut for a brief, unguarded moment.

His shadows consumed him.

Azriel was gone.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel x female!reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #azriel angst #acotar #acotar fanfiction #fanfic

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wildestdreamsblog · 1 year

Text

In All Lifetimes: Prologue

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Summary: In which you have loved them across all seven lifetimes, and stopped at eighth. And in every lifetime, they loved you just as intense. Yet each lifetime their love became darker and darker.

Or in which you stopped loving them on the eight lifetime- only to wake up at the very first lifetime where their love hadn’t turned dark yet.

Warnings: Poly relationship, yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Murder intention, Violence, Mention of death, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: I have always wanted to try writing for all of them. Do tell me your thoughts and enjoy!

“Please! Stop it, Namjoon. P-please!”

You were screaming as tears were falling down your face, willing the tall man in front of you to listen. But it seemed like you had already lost him to the darkness. You looked at your side and met Hoseok’s cold eyes, but even he seemed to have lost his own sun. He looked at you without any emotion. It was apparent that he wouldn’t help you.

“Jin? Please, please. Please stop him, hmm? Please help,” you begged him with tearful eyes, clutching the front of his shirt. If anyone had any chance to stop Namjoon, it was Seokjin. But the tall and beautiful man only looked down at your hands clutching his shirt with indifference before meeting your desperate eyes. He slowly shook his head, merely content on watching the scene unfold in front of him.

“He deserves it, my queen,” he softly said, his eyes brimming with hatred.

You were shaking your head even before he finished, “He doesn’t! He was only helping me. It wasn’t his fault-“

“He dared take you away from us,” a quiet voice sounded from your side. Yoongi was nonchalantly leaning against the wall, his stance relaxed. But it didn’t fool you. His shoulders were tensed as he let Namjoon unleashed hell. Lazily, he shifted his eyes to you. “No one can take you away from us.”

Not even you.

You flinched when you heard the man screaming from extreme pain. You looked behind you to see the golden maknae crying in Taehyung’s arms. The man had his arm around Jungkook’s shaking shoulders in comfort, yet his cold, dark eyes remained on you.

“Look what you did to Jungkook, noona,” his deep voice resounded over the screams of the man. “You made our maknae cry. That’s not nice, is it?”

“T-Taehyung. Please. Please help me stop this madness. Pl-“

“No, that’s not nice,” he continued as though he didn’t hear you, answering his own question as though all the screaming didn’t bother him. “You thought you could leave us. That man poisoned your mind, my queen. We need to teach him a lesson, right, Kookie?”

The crying man suddenly looked up, his red eyes focused on you. His lips were shaking as he looked at the love of their lives. You.

“H-he needs to learn, hyung. He needs to be punished. He took her away from us!”

You flinched from the sudden volume of his voice. You knew he wouldn’t help. No one could. When it came to you, their minds were closed off. To them, it was you or no one at all. To them, you were all that mattered in this world.

And their love was suffocating. Didn’t they know you left because of them? Because you couldn’t love the people they became? That you never loved them like they wanted to in the first place?

That you loved them, but never in that way.

“It wasn’t his fault! I begged him to help me leave-“

“No. You would never willingly leave us, our queen. That’s not even a possibility,” Namjoon suddenly joined the conversation as though he wasn’t torturing an actual human. You didn’t even look at him.

He was the worst of them all.

“It’s fine, noona,” Jimin suddenly said, touching your stiff shoulder softly before leaning down to look at you. “It’ll be over soon and we can all go home, okay? Just wait a little longer, okay?”

Namjoon might be the worst of them all, but Jimin was the one who refused to even entertain the thought of you not loving them. He was the most dangerous with his angelic smile and innocent form. No one would even think of the way his mind was filled with dark thoughts. And even now, he was smiling so sweetly at you.

“Our queen is tired,” Namjoon shook his head in regret before slowly lifting the gun to the man. “I shall end this now.”

No. No no no no.

And before you knew it, you were running to the man. You weren’t thinking. All you wanted was for this madness to stop, for this hell to vanish. All of a sudden, there were silence. Or maybe, it wasn’t silence but everyone’s shock. Your tears fell as you felt the piercing shot of pain in your chest.

And then you fell to the ground.

And the last thing you saw was Namjoon and the others kneeling beside your dying body. They were crying. They were screaming. You felt the warm blood seeping out of you in rapid succession. You knew this was the end.

Good, you thought. Finally you could escape them.

The last thing you saw was Namjoon’s handsome face looking down at you with tears in his eyes.

The last thing you felt were their tears as they fell to your skin.

The last thing you thought was that you never had to see them again.

The first thing you saw when you opened your eyes were seven men leaning down to look at your laid out form. You blinked slowly, your eyes focused on the man closest to you who was looking at you with overwhelming worry and love.

Kim Namjoon.

And then memories came rushing back to you. He killed you. They all had a hand to it.

They killed you, but he was the one who pulled the trigger.

And before you knew it, you were screaming as you attempted to scoot farther from them. The huge and comfortable bed made it possible to distance yourself from the confused men, all of who were waiting for you to wake up.

“M-my queen,” Namjoon called for you, confusion apparent in his face. “What’s wrong?”

You turned to look at all of them, your eyes shifting from their nervous forms. Didn’t you die? Did they save you just in time? Did you fail to escape them?

But then, you really looked at them and this time, you noticed the traditional clothing they were all wearing. You noticed the room you were in. You looked down and noticed that you, too, were wearing a traditional clothing.

“Noona-“

“Don’t come near me!” You warned Jimin as he called you, his eyes weary and nervous. They all jumped from your anxious words and the way you delivered it. What the fuck was happening? Was this a dream?

You needed to leave.

You needed to leave or else you would really faint, You got off the bed, never turning your back on the equally confused men. Slowly, you inched to the door, warning them with your eyes not to follow you when you heard the door sliding.

“My daughter! You’re awake!”

You turned to look at the man-only to see your father smiling at you. And he too was wearing a Korean traditional clothes.

“F-father?” Your brows furrowed as you took him in. His hair was in a dignified braid, his beard long similar to the old times. He looked as though he was a rich man from the ancient times.

Was your mind playing tricks on you? Was this your own personal hell? Were the men confusing you even further?

You felt your father’s arms surrounded you as he took you in. You never thought you would be able to hug him again, never thought that you would see him again.

“I am so glad you’re awake now, little one.”

The thing was, your father died when you were seven. So who was this man?

You turned to look at the men behind you. And this time, they didn’t have the darkness gleaming in their eyes. No. This time, they looked at you without any hint of obsessiveness in their eyes. They looked at you as though they weren’t in love with you. All of them…except Kim Namjoon.

And you just knew, they weren’t the same people you escape from.

Holy shit, who were they?

Where were you?

#bts fic #ot7 x you #ot7 x reader #bangtan ot7 #kim seokjin fic #kim namjoon #kim namjoon fic #jung hoseok fic #min yoongi fic #kim taehyung foc #jeon jungkook fic #yandere bts #bts smut

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morbific-or-felicific · 2 months

Text

-PÂRO Featuring Wriothesley

Meaning: The feeling that no matter what you do is always somehow wrong—that any attempt to make your way comfortably through the world will only end up crossing some invisible taboo

Word Count: 1.7k~

Description: After accidentally breaking a few laws while at lunch with your boyfriend, he has to ‘punish’ you for your crimes

Edited by: @pretty-princess-peach @tortellini-bandit

You paced around Wriothesley’s office, trying to stay calm. Today hadn’t gone even remotely as you had intended. You were supposed to be having a completely normal lunch with your boyfriend. Unfortunately, however, you had somehow managed to end up in the fortress of meropide… well, in Wriothesley’s office, anyway.

You really hadn’t meant to do anything wrong, but despite that, you had still broken several laws while on your date. Although, it really wasn’t your fault that your fork had caused one of the carrots in your salad to shoot onto the ground, resulting in you getting a littering charge, and how could they blame you for bumping into the table and causing your boyfriend's drink to spill in your lap, which was apparently contact with alcohol while underage (Seriously? You were 20!).

And were they really allowed to call it “evading arrest” when you refused to go with Wriothesley to the fortress?

Despite your refusal, Wriothesley had taken you (read: carried you over his shoulder) to his office in the fortress, and he left you there while he talked to the chief justice about your punishment. Now you were stuck waiting for your boyfriend to return and tell you if you would have to go to jail or not.

Finally, you heard the metal doors creak open after heavy steps came up the staircase. Your boyfriend walked behind his desk and sat down, rubbing his eyes.

“So?”

“‘So?’”

“Do I have to go to jail…?”

“Oh, that.” He smiled gently. “No, but… you do need some kind of punishment. Neuvilette said that community service might be a good idea, but he didn’t give a definitive punishment.”

“But I didn’t do anything wrong!”

He sighed, shaking his head.

“You still broke laws, but it is up to me to determine your punishment, since this wasn’t an official trial.”

You stood there for a moment, waiting for him to say more.

“So, what will you decide…?”

He leaned back in his chair and raised his eyebrows at you.

“What do you think you deserve?”

You thought for a second. Should you just say something like community service or just a small fine? Or would he think that’s not enough? You contemplated what you should say, but before you got a chance to say anything, Wriothesley spoke.

“I think you deserve to be handcuffed and punished for being a bad girl. What do you think, princess?”

You blushed. Was he really going to punish you like that…? For this? There’s no way this was a legal recourse. You weren’t going to complain if that’s how things worked out, but you were still confused.

“Is that legal?”

He let out a light laugh.

“Do you really care?”

You smiled at him.

“I guess not.”

Wriothesley smiled back at you, but there was something in his eyes that made you nervous. He had punished you before, and you knew that you were right to be concerned, but it still disquieted you.

“Strip.”

You did as he asked. You slipped out of your dress and took off your underwear.

“Come here. Now.”

Wriothesley slid his chair back as you walked over to stand in front of your boyfriend. He looked you up and down, drawing his eyes over your beautiful body. He stood up and grabbed his handcuffs from his belt before sliding them onto your wrists.

“Get on your knees.”

Wriothesley sat back down in his chair with his legs open so you could settle between them. He took off his belt and undid his pants before pulling out his cock.

“Suck.”

You felt the urge to disobey him bubble up inside of you. You smiled up at him and simply stated, “No.”

He returned your smile once again.

“‘No?’”

His voice holds a menacing lilt.

“No.”

He sighed.

“Five, four, three.” You felt a sense of unease in your stomach, and you began to question your resolve. It was hard to be firm in your brattiness when he used that voice. “Two, one, zero.”

He didn’t say another word as he roughly grabbed your hair in one hand and forcibly opened your mouth with the other. He pushed his cock into your mouth and brought you down until you reached the base. You spluttered and gagged as you tried to get used to his cock in your throat, your jaw already hurting from how thick the Duke was.

He pulled you up and down his cock, letting out deep groans as he did so. You wiggled around, trying to slip out of your handcuffs, but you were completely at Wriothesley’s mercy.

After a minute or two of your boyfriend fucking your throat, you had a bright idea. You could use your teeth! Seconds after you slid your teeth against his cock, he was pulling you off and leaning down to look you in the eye, still gripping your hair tightly.

The look in his eyes sent a chill down your spine. You had made a big mistake.

“Do that again and see what happens, princess.”

You felt your resistance dissipate after those words. You were already being punished, and you didn’t want to make it worse.

“I’m sorry, your grace.”

Wriothesley smiled softly at your submission. You relaxed your body and opened your mouth. He pushed his cock back down your throat, keeping a firm grip on your hair, far preferring to set the pace himself rather than have you do it. This was a punishment, after all. You did your best to breathe through your nose and relax your throat as your boyfriend used your mouth like a toy.

Your throat felt so perfect around Wriothesley’s cock. He was finally about to cum, but before he did, he pulled out of your mouth so he could cum on your face, rather than down your throat. Bad girls don’t get his cum.

You instinctively closed your eyes and stuck out your tongue before his cum landed on your face. You licked up what landed near your mouth, but with your hands stuck behind your back, you were forced to leave the rest.

Wriothesley took a moment to breathe before standing up and dragging you up with him. He turned you so that you were facing away from him, and he pushed you down on his desk. He stood back, admiring your bent body before grabbing his belt where he left it on his desk. He folded his belt and stood back slightly before bringing it down hard on your ass.

You fought the urge to stay silent and began to count the strikes, just like his grace had taught you. One, two, three, four, five.

“Six!”

You braced yourself for another hit, but it never came. You felt his hand gently run over the marks he had made, and you couldn’t help but wince at the discomfort. Wriothesley removed his hand from your ass and ran a finger up your slit.

“You’re so wet. Do you want me to fuck you?”

“Yes! Please.”

A choked scream escaped your lips when another hit came from your boyfriend’s belt.

“Please, what?”

“Please, your grace!”

“Better.”

You felt the tip of Wriothesley’s cock at your entrance and almost protested at the lack of prep, but before you could, he was pushing inside of you. Tears were forming in your eyes from how much his cock was stretching you out. Fuck, he’s thick.

He bottomed out inside of you, pausing to let you somewhat adjust to his size. How sweet of him.

When he could no longer restrain himself, he started fucking you hard and deep. You felt like you had ascended to heaven after enduring hell. He filled you up so perfectly, turning your mind blank and holding your hips in a bruising grip as he worked towards his end.

“You’re fucking perfect, taking me so good.”

He couldn’t help but let out a deep moan at the feeling of you tightening around him.

“Feels so good! Thank you, your grace!”

A breathy laugh escaped his lips, and he began fucking you faster, needing you more. You were so perfect for him, taking your punishment without protest, and then taking his cock. Was it really necessary to tell you that you hadn’t actually broken any laws, and that he had used your ignorance of Fontaine’s complicated legal system to orchestrate a night of fun for the two of you? He did have to have a meeting with Neuvilette, so it wasn’t a complete lie, but still.

You were losing yourself slowly to the overwhelming pleasure and could barely form words at this point. You tried to tell Wriothesley that you wanted to be closer to him but all that came out was gibberish. The only thing that he was able to make out was “closer”, and fuck, he wanted to be closer to you too.

He wrapped a hand around the front of your throat and pulled you up until you could feel the fabric and the cold clasps of his vest against your bare back. His lips found your neck, and he kissed up towards your lips until, eventually, you were kissing. His lips moved against yours passionately as he continued to fuck you.

“I’m gonna cum! Please, need to so bad!”

Wriothesley smiled at how good you were being, even asking permission to cum.

“Go ahead, princess.”

You let yourself be consumed by the pleasure and tip over the edge. You saw stars as Wriothesley fucked you through your orgasm. As you came down from your high, Wriothesley continued his harsh rhythm, and you could do nothing but whine from the overstimulation. He always lasted longer than you, and you were almost always overstimulated by the time he was finished.

Finally, you felt his rhythm begin to falter, and finally, you felt him fill you up with his cum. The two of you stayed connected, placing gentle kisses on each other's lips as you wound down from the experience.

“How are you feeling?”

“Tired.”

You just wanted to lay down in bed and sleep after such an intense experience. If it weren’t for Wriothesley’s arms around you, you were certain that you would be laying flat on his desk.

“Let’s go home.”

The Duke undid your handcuffs and placed them back on his belt before doing up his own pants and helping you get dressed. Then, he scooped you up and began to carry you home.

Tag List: @lilia-sspouse @but-a-peach @stannazuna @izzalovesdilfs @lordbugs @randomlycockroach @licensedsimp @leena-shi @cesimaaa @welpthisisfine @dainself-when-playable @fic-rebloga @bubblyxdolly @wanderin-stories @iwysbellez @k4ze3e @kenmabfasf @vvyeislazzy @nerdiel-has-no-braincells @hopeless-smvt @bloomingheartz @crazydreamcat @kazumiku @str4wb3rizz @kyon-cherri @ravereina @ashrodisiac

morbific-or-felicific.

#mae’s daily paper☕️*•̊ⴰ✧#mae.melts🧊*•̊ⴰ✧#wriothesley.❣︎•*✧ ̊ⴰ #this might not be my best but it’s finally edited so here <3 #afab reader #female reader #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x you #wriothesley x y/n #wriothesley smut #genshin x y/n #genshin x you #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin wriothesley

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kelppsstuff · 3 months

Note

Hi!

I was just wondering if it’d be possible for you to do like a pick your ending for the Adam cheating fic?

Seriously, your poll hurt me to choose between them.

“HOW LONG.”

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | ALT ENDING

Masterlist

Warnings: mentions of cheating!

Taglist: @dustsofangels @leathesimp @michelleszn @pinkiee @strangerthings36 @sashaphantomhive @ladyninggs @dak-ots @adamsfavoritesinner

Okay so yes I can and shall be doing this! I’ll have an alt ending of Lucifer getting the girl. I’m doing and “ALT” instead of choose your own cause Adam did win the poll! However I hope you enjoy! 💛 THIS IS ADAMS ENDING!

—

Court went absolutely terrible. Adam had basically trashed the whole idea. Adam also had a huge influence on the court.

I felt truly sorry for Charlie, and Emily. I had thought Sera told Emily, but apparently not. Let’s just say, the whole session could have gone better.

“I’m so sorry Charlie.” We were back in the heaven hotel. We had a few more hours before we had to leave. “It’s okay, not your fault.” Her smile was shaky. “Do you think I could have some time alone?” I smiled gently at her. “Of course darling, get some rest.” I closed the door and looked up to see Lucifer. He looked conflicted, confused, and concerned. The three C’s.

“I knew I shouldn’t have set up this meeting. They crushed her!” We walked back into our own hotel room. “She’s a strong girl Luce. She’ll be okay. I promise.” And she will be. Eventually.

Lucifer smiled at me, but the it faltered. The conflict-ion coming back into his face.

“I saw Lilith.” I nodded my head and gestured for him to continue. “I-I don’t know anymore. I like you.” He sat down on the bed putting his face in his hands. “Like really really like you.” I sat on the floor in front of him. Moving his hands away to look at his crimson eyes. “I like you too.”

His eyes squeeze shut almost as if his next words hurt him to say. “But I made a vow. That no matter what she and I would always have one another.” Even if those words did hurt him, I was positive it hurt me more.

“Your going back to her.” A tear fell down my face. Lucifer opened his eyes again and brushed the said tear aside with his smooth hand.

“What kind of man would I be if I didn’t keep my word to her? What kind of example would I be telling my daughter?” My heart was hurting.m but I understood even if it did hurt.

“Do you love her.” My voice breaking. I never even met her and yet it felt like she took away all the ones I loved. “Yes.” Fuck.

“Do you love me?” Another tear fell. This time instead of his hand brushing it away it was his lips.

“Yes.” He whispered just above my cheek, his breath fanning over my skin. Fucking Christ.

“I’ll love you.” I said, my words full of truth. Even if we hadn’t known each other for a long time.

“I’ll always long for you, but I’ll always miss my wife.” He looked so tired, so torn, so broken.

I brought his lips to mine, my lipstick once again staining his lips. “I love you. So I’ll let you go.” Perhaps in another universe. Perhaps another timeline. We would have been together.

“Thank you.”

“For?”

“Being you. I couldn’t ask nor want anymore fro you. Your fill me full with content like no other.”

His words done it’s job, it had comforted me.

—

Lilith went back to hell with Lucifer and me and him would share conversations, but we drew a line we never crossed.

Over time Adam started to show up a lot more around me. I had also made him call off the extermination. He always was asking for me to come home every time. This most recently time had finally worked out in his favor.

—

“I miss you.” Adam said looking up at my roof in the hotel. “I’m sure you do.” He had only said it a million times. He got up and turned my body away from the window, making me look at him.

“Every breath I take without you is filled with poison. Every drink I sip burns my throat as if it’s lava. You food I eat I feel like chocking to death.” Be brushed my forehead with his own. “I have tasted the most delicious divine fruit of all in a place that was paradise, but even that felt like hell because I didn’t have you.” I went to speak but he pushed a finger to my lips, dishing me. “I never asked for Lilith. Or Eve. And yet both left me. I never felt good enough, not once because of it. That’s why I did that horrid thing. But I was too good for them. The only thing I’m not good enough for is your love, and your being.”

“If I forgive you, you’d do it again.” I tried to explain but he shook his head as if my words were ludicrous. “That’s we’re your wrong, I shall worship the air you breath, devote my entire existence to you and only you. And if I have to rip my heart on and give it to you on a silver platter then so be it, because I love you more than any apple, and garden, and heaven, hell, world. I love you more than anything ever even thought of.”

Tears fell down from my eyes. “One more chance, that’s it.”

—

You didn’t fully trust him but over the years he did as he said and devoted himself to you and only you.

Adam knew you deserved a better man than him, so he became one.

—

AHHHHH DONE! I’m going to do an ALT ENDING! So if you wanted Lucifer it will be out shortly I promise. Also sorry if this was short.

I’m trying to upload at least three things on my upload days! So others should be out today as well so check it out if you’d like!

Taglist

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #masterlist #adam hazbin hotel #adam is actually hilarious #adam x reader #x reader #hazbin lucifer #lucifer #lucifer x reader

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dilemmaontwolegs · 10 months

Note

Oof that Daniel and his best friend's wife hit the spot for me. I know it has a happy ending but if by any chance you'll come up with ideas for pt. 2, I'll be there reading it

NOT A REQUEST (you already have enough of those)

His Best Man || DR3 {2}

Summary: Two months later you uncover another lie James told you. (Just a little thought I had and decided to share) Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, pregnancy, smut WC: 2.1k F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Daniel’s Reaction

Song: Bless the Broken Road by Rascal Flatts

“Did you lie to me?” Your broken voice was hoarse as you sat crumpled on the cold stone tiles in Daniel's bathroom. A thousand thoughts raced through your head so fast you couldn’t cling to one long enough to make sense of what was happening.

“You woke me up for this shit?” James growled and you heard a soft feminine voice asking him who was on the phone, but it no longer hurt.

Your hands trembled as you reached for the impossible that was somehow staring you in the face. “The appointment I missed…did you lie?”

The silence dragged on for too long to be honest and you shook your head roughly, displacing the tears that clung to your bottom lashes.

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” he admitted in a quiet murmur. “It was easier to believe it was your fault.”

“You’re a rotten bastard.”

“How did you find out?” You could picture the confusion as he sat up in bed and heard the lamp click on. “Unless…”

You hung up the phone before he could voice the connection he had made and dropped it at your side to pull your knees to your chest. That was how Daniel found you when he crashed into the room with his phone barely hanging from his fingertips, a look of dismay on his unusually somber face. He hadn’t even changed out of his fireproofs after finishing free practice on the famous Monaco street track.

“You said you couldn’t have kids.” The accusation and hurt was clear in his tone as he sank down the wall opposite you, his eyes unable to look away from the tests scattered at your feet.

You too stared at what you thought was a miracle only to find out that it too was a lie. “I got caught in traffic on the way to the appointment at the doctors. James said that his tests came back fine but mine were the problem. That’s when our relationship changed, when he started to pull away. I thought it was because of me!”

Daniel dragged his eyes away from the pink plus signs and narrowed them at you. “Why didn’t you double check?”

The back of your head thumped against the vanity but you didn’t feel anything as you screwed your eyes shut against the sight of his distrust. “He was my husband, I thought I could trust him. I don’t need you reminding me what a fucking mistake that was!”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I’m just a little shocked, okay. Fuck. A baby?”

You peeked out of your lashes to see him reaching for one of the tests, holding it up to the light despite the lines being clear as day. “Apparently so.”

He picked up the other two and blinked a few times as he waited for the punchline to come, but it never did. “Should we get hitched?”

“Wow, Danny, just wow,” you muttered as you pulled yourself up from the floor and massaged your leg that had gone numb from sitting for so long.

He leapt to his feet and caught you by the hips before you could leave the bathroom, but after a split second he moved his hands higher to your waist. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I’m not going to marry you because I’m pregnant, this isn’t the 1920’s, and my divorce isn’t even finalised.” You unlatched his arms from your body and stepped into the bedroom that overlooked Monte Carlo, grabbing your suitcase from under the bed to begin packing your clothes.

“What are you doing? You don’t have to go.” There was a hint of desperation in his voice as he fought the urge to drag your suitcase away from your hands. “Stay, please.”

“You didn’t ask for this and I had long given up on the idea, so I think we could both do with some time to think. You should be focusing on your race this weekend.”

Unable to resist any longer, he stepped between you and the suitcase and placed his hands on your shoulders as he bent his knees so he could look you in the eyes. “I may not have asked for it but I’m not some fucking bogan, I’m not going to let you go through this alone. I’ll be right by your side.”

“Don’t,” you whispered as you looked away from the sincerity in his eyes. “Don’t make promises on a whim. You might mean it now but…”

Daniel didn’t let you break eye contact for long as he followed your gaze, a small smile playing at his lips. “When have you known me to change my mind, love?”

His smile grew at the pause as you mentally ran through all the years of knowing him unable to find an example. You couldn’t count the number of times James had changed his mind, but Daniel? He had none.

Your answer was reserved and nearly silent but somehow he heard and his hands slipped down your body before cupping your ass and picking you up. His laugh warmed your neck as he buried his face in the crook while you wrapped your legs around his waist.

“I never thought about having kids,” he admitted as he kissed your racing pulse. “It’s kind of exciting.”

You looked around the high end apartment and lingered on the balcony that opened out off the bedroom that was 15 floors off the ground. “It’s kind of terrifying. There is some serious baby-proofing needed to raise one here.”

Daniel chuckled and shook his head as he laid you gently down on the bed and continued his soft kisses across your body. “Then pick a house, baby, any house. Whatever you want, we’ll make it ours.”

“Just slow down a minute,” you panted as he brush the strap of your dress aside and sealed his lips over the swell of your breast.

“But I want you,” he groaned as he propped himself up on his knees between your legs.

You reached for his race suit hanging at his hips and tugged the zip down further so you could find the hem of the fireproof shirt. “No, not that. I meant the plans and grand gestures. You can definitely continue what you were doing.”

“I like grand gestures,” he said as he helped you to pull the shirt over his head and you saw a sheen of sweat coating his skin from the sprint he had made to get home. “From surprise tattoos to buying a house fit for a family, don’t stop me now.”

“How can I when you talk like that?” You pouted as you remembered your promise to him. “I won’t be able to get your tattoo for a long time.”

Daniel’s short beard rubbed across your shoulder, tickling your skin as he shook his head. “We have more important things to think of now but I’ll get it on you one day, baby.”

Your thoughts turned to everything those important things could be from finding a doctor and midwife to just how insane the whole situation was. Daniel could see you were drifting away as you got lost in your mind and knew one sure way to bring you back to the present.

“Eyes on me, love,” he ordered as he pushed your dress up and hooked his fingers into your panties to slide them down your legs. “Forget about everything except this right here.”

His fingers teased you as he slowly dragged them through your folds, feeling your body respond so quickly to his touch. You squirmed beneath him when he smirked and teased you again, almost but never quite going where you wanted him most.

“Please,” you whined when he missed your clit for a third time.

“Just checking you were still focused on me,” he chuckled. His eyes held yours as he curled two thick digits into your cunt and pressed his thumb to your clit, making your back arch off the bed at the sudden sensations of his ministrations.

“I’m always focused on you,” you moaned, reaching for his race suit to push it down his hips. “Now please fuck me…”

Daniel’s smirk grew as he shoved his boxers down his thighs and nudged yours apart wider. “You’ve been so needy lately, is this the hormones? ‘Cause I could get used to this.” He teased you once more as he fisted his thick cock and stroked the long length before tapping the head on your sensitive clit. “Are you sure you want me to fuck you?” he asked as he pressed himself to your entrance, your body slowly stretching to welcome him before he stopped an inch in.

“Yes! Please, Danny,” you whined, before taking matters into your own hands. You wrapped your legs around his hips and dug your heels into his ass, pushing him forward, and you both moaned as he filled you completely.

“That was naughty,” he chuckled in your ear. “If you want to be in control so badly, here you go.”

He caged you in his arms and rolled onto his back so you were on top. Tucking his arms behind his head, he winked and made himself comfortable. “Go on, baby, take what you need.”

Planting your hands on his chest, you accepted the invitation with the roll of your hips as your eyes fluttered shut.

“He really is a cunt,” Daniel sighed as he lay beside you, his phone on silent after all notifications he had received overnight. The sun was beginning to leak through the gaps in the curtain and your eyes were weary from the lack of sleep. It worried you to know Danny was going to be driving in a few short hours when he hadn’t rested for long enough.

After James called Daniel to taunt him over the news that you were pregnant, and that as the father he wasn’t even the first to know, the asshole had then told every news outlet globally it seemed. He hadn’t stopped there though, he had spread the news on every social media platform he had, ensuring there would be no privacy for either of you.

“That was your friend,” you pointed out, only to earn an unamused side glance.

“That was your husband.”

“That was uncalled for.”

“Very.” Daniel rubbed his eyes and groaned as he stretched his arms out before pulling you into his embrace. “But it was also the truth. We can’t change our pasts, baby.”

He grabbed his phone from the night stand and avoided the apps with growing numbers of notifications in the corners. He barely had to look to find Spotify as his thumb hit the icon purely on muscle memory.

“No, please, it’s too early for country,” you groaned as you saw him selecting a playlist and song.

“Nobody can tell a story like a good ol’ country song, Roo. It’s like they can somehow bottle up everything I’m feeling and say it for me. Just listen,” he said softly as he hit play. The apartment came to life with the speakers that were built into the ceiling, the sound wholly encompassing as you curled into his arms and listened to what he wanted to say.

I set out on a narrow way many years ago. Hoping I would find true love along the broken road. But I got lost a time or two, wiped my brow and kept pushing through. I couldn't see how every sign pointed straight to you.

Daniel hummed along to the tune, his eyes closed as he rested his head against the cushions and you watched it rock gently side to side. He was always at peace when he listened to the genre and even with the chaos he had woken to he was able to let it saturate his soul and calm him. So you nestled in closer to rest your head on his chest and let his heartbeat join the chorus.

Every long lost dream led me to where you are. Others who broke my heart, they were like Northern stars, pointing me on my way into your loving arms. This much I know is true, that God blessed the broken road that led me straight to you.

Daniel’s lips pressed to your forehead softly and you felt them whispering along as tears stung your eyes, “God blessed the broken road that led me straight to you.”

I think about the years I spent just passin' through. I'd like to have the time I lost and give it back to you. But you just smile and take my hand, you've been there, you understand. It's all part of a grander plan that is coming true.

“You’re breaking my heart, cowboy,” you whispered as you idly traced the line of hair down his navel.

He smiled as he wiped away the dampness on your cheeks before his large hands cradled your face. “Then let me fix it.”

Request: Daniel’s reaction

Tagging: @moonvr @copper-boom @yunnie-f1 @ophcelia @lightsoutletsgo @alwaysclassyeagle @neiich @omgsuperstarg @starwarssavy23 @fdl305 @faeb1tch42069 @sweetestrose569 @pleasantducktimetravel @zendayabelova @dr3lover @writerscurse @christianpulisic10 @alexisquinnlee-bc @purplephantomwolf @belennasif @ryiamarie @mickslover @tyna-19 @destourtereaux @sunf1ower16 @octaviareina @laneyspaulding19 @booknerd2004-blog @mimimarvelingmarvel @chonkybonky @jpg3 @bangtanxberm @ohthemisssery @eviethetheatrefreak @kimi240302 @formula1mount @storyteller-le @dakotali @daddyslittlevillain @elijahslover @formulas-bitch @faithm120601 @ynbutbetter @allabouthappiness @simpingcorner @chasing-liberosis @jspitwall @sociallyinepludi @ru-kru

#daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 smut #f1 rpf #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic

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neonghostlights · 9 months

Text

Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Actress!Reader (best friends to lovers-slow burn)

★ Series Summary: It’s the ‘90s in LA and you and your best friend Eddie have both made it big. The following is a series of Interviews, News Reports and One Shots showing you and Eddie’s story throughout the years.

★ Chapter Summary: We've got a flashback. It’s prom season. You rescue Eddie. And something happens that will never be spoken of again.

★ Warnings: Reader wears makeup, a dress, and heels. Bullying. Sad Eddie. Jealousy. Unrequited crush. This is the first time Eddie breaks our hearts. 18+ only.

★ Wordcount: 3.5k

Series Masterlist

Chapter Five: The Prom Incident

May 1985

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Eddie asked as he slammed on the brakes. The tires squealed as the van lurched to a sudden stop. You flew forward in your seat, thankful for the seatbelt you were wearing. Your palms smacked against the dashboard.

Eddie stared at you, mouth wide and brows lifted high on his forehead in shock. You hadn’t expected the news to slip out. But apparently Gareth likes to gossip and he runs to Eddie with any news he gets.

Especially if it pertains to you.

“Eddie, pull the hell over or wait until we get home. We’re in the middle of the damn road,” you snapped, pissed off and embarrassed from his reaction. You wanted to tell him, of course, but after the fact. Not like this.

Eddie let off the brakes, van picking up speed again as he drove down the back road. You were thankful there were no cars behind you when he did that. Tire marks in the road now proof of his reaction.

He drove the rest of the way to the trailer park in silence, not even speaking when he put it in park and climbed out. He slung his backpack over his shoulder and marched inside the trailer. You followed silently, you wished you were brave enough to run but he would just follow you to your trailer for the conversation instead and you knew your grandma would be listening to every word. You loved her but she was so nosey. Maybe she could play mediator, you knew she would take your side and tell Eddie to get over himself in the most loving way possible.

Eddie didn’t speak until you were both sitting in his bedroom. You sat on the bed and fiddled with your fingers awkwardly. Eddie sat in the chair in front of the desk, plucking at his guitar. He wasn’t really playing any music, seemingly lost in thought as he sat with furrowed brows.

You had enough of his silence. You knew he was doing it on purpose to make you break and it was working. “Are we gonna talk about it or are you going to mope all evening?” You finally asked.

Eddie sighed, setting the guitar to the side in favor of messing with his rings.

“Thought you didn’t care about prom,” he finally said.

“I don’t- I mean I didn't. Not before,” you stuttered out.

“Before what? Before Chase Clarkes asked you?” He snapped.

In reality, you had always cared about prom a little bit. You had been saving money all school year by babysitting Will Byers or by helping clean Mrs. White’s house when she had a hard time keeping up with it. Going to prom wasn’t always a sure thing for you, always a fantasy that seemed out of reach. But you got asked out of the blue by Chase who sits beside you in math about a week ago. And you said yes.

Word must have gotten back to Hellfire about it finally.

You didn’t think Eddie was going to react quite like this. It just so happened to be the night he had planned for Hellfire to get together for a massive movie night. He had been planning it for a while and you knew he was excited for it. You just didn’t think he would be this bent out of shape over you missing out. You weren’t even a real member of Hellfire, you just watched them play and helped Eddie with his campaigns. It was more of Eddie’s thing, not yours.

“I can still help make stuff for the movie night,” you offered, trying to soften the blow.

“That’s not what this is about. It’s about the principle.”

“What principle? It’s not my fault you hate prom. It’s not my fault you didn’t go last year but I only get one senior year and I want to go,” you yelled.

Eddie’s face turned red. “Yeah, because I’m such a failure because I can’t pass senior year.”

You sighed, throwing your head back. You shouldn’t have even brought it up. You were a year behind Eddie, making this your first senior year and his second. You were kind of excited that he stayed behind so you could go through senior year with your best friend by your side. But now he was going to have to do senior year again while you were moving on. You hadn’t meant to throw it in his face like that and now the guilt was gnawing at your stomach.

You got up slowly, the springs of his hand me down bed creaking from your movement. You crossed the room and crouched slightly so you could wrap your arms around him as he sat in the chair. He huffed at first, not hugging back until he finally broke and wrapped his arms around you tightly and pressed his face into your neck. He could never stay mad at you for long.

“I’m sorry,” you finally said, muffled by his shirt. You stood finally, your legs burning from your position.

“No. I’m sorry,” Eddie apologized, looking up at you. “I just wanted to have a night with everyone before you graduated. I’m gonna be here again next year without you and I’m just getting sad over it.”

Your heart broke and crumbled at his words. Guilt gnawed at you for deciding to go to prom. You saw Eddie everyday, all day, but he was having a hard time with not graduating again and he needed you. How could you be so selfish?

“You know what,” you said, taking his hand. “I didn’t want to go to prom anyways. I was just being nice,” you lied.

“Really?” He asked, looking hopeful.

“Really,” you nodded with a smile. “I can let him down gently tomorrow. You can help me think of what to say. We can still do movie night.”

“Yes!” He cheered, pumping his fist.

You let out a half-hearted laugh to cover up your disappointment. You thought about the pretty red dress in your closet that cost all of your savings and you would probably never have the chance to wear now.

The next few days were normal. Until they weren’t.

Eddie was missing at lunch, which was unusual for him since he sometimes dealt during that time.

“I can’t believe he canceled the movie night,” Jeff grumbled from across from you, picking at his pizza.

“What do you mean?” You asked, peeling an orange. “It’s back on. I canceled my date with Chase.”

Chase had been reasonably upset that you agreed to go with him then turned him down. You made up an excuse about a family thing that night instead.

“You didn’t hear?” Gareth spoke up. “Jenny Johnson asked Eddie to prom yesterday in gym class.” Gareth leaned in, ready to deal the final blow. “And he said yes.”

Your world spun at the news you were hearing. Jenny Johnson, the pretty cheerleading captain extraordinaire, had convinced Eddie Munson to go to prom. Eddie, who had convinced you to drop your date in favor of spending the night with you just to drop you instead at the first chance he got.

You were going to be sick.

“Are you okay?” Gareth asked, noticing the look on your face.

You stood up so fast that your chair fell behind you. The hard plastic hit the floor hard enough for the other tables around you to go quiet and stare in your direction. You didn’t bother to pick it up.

You fled to the bathroom, feeling stupid and dramatic for your reaction to the news. How could he sit there and preach about wanting to spend time with you just to jump at the chance to spend the night with someone else? He had never done anything like this before. Ever.

It had always been just you and Eddie for as long as you could remember.

You splashed water on your face, letting the cold drops drip down your neck and run into the neckline of your shirt. You stared into the mirror with a blank expression.

Why were you behaving this way? So he lied. He told you to cancel your plans just to make ones of his own. And with a cheerleader? He hated cheerleaders. If he wanted to go to prom so bad why didn’t he just tell you? Why didn’t he just take you himself? You immediately brushed that last thought out of your head. That would be ridiculous.

You went the rest of the day avoiding Eddie and trying to tune out the whispers about Eddie going to prom with Jenny. Some people shot you some pitying looks from strangers in the hall which you weren’t sure why. Eddie having a date didn’t have anything to do with you.

When it was time to go home Eddie was silent in the van. He knew you knew. You could feel the uncertain tension in the air. He waited until he pulled up to the trailer to talk to you.

“You’re mad.” Not a question. It wouldn’t surprise you if he could feel the anger radiating off of you at this point.

“Nope,” you said, short and sweet.

Eddie sighed, tapping his hands against the steering wheel while he stared ahead.

“I didn’t know she was going to ask.”

“It’s fine,” you gritted out, opening the door and climbing out before closing it with a slam.

Eddie followed you to your trailer door.

“You’re not coming over?” He asked.

You shook your head. “I have a headache. I want to go to sleep.”

“You’re lying.”

“So what?” You asked, spinning around to face him. “You lied first. You made me cancel my plans just for you to ditch me. I was really looking forward to going.”

“It’s not a big deal. Just tell him you changed your mind,” Eddie offered, grasping for straws.

“It doesn’t work like that. He already asked someone else,” you said in a forced, bored tone, doing your best not to cry.

Eddie sputtered looking around like an idea might come to him.

You turned back around, climbing up the steps and slamming the door to your trailer behind you. Your grandma looked up from the table where she sat with a cigarette and some sweet tea. She had probably heard all of that. You could expect her to offer her grandmotherly advice later on once she gave you some space.

You locked the door before Eddie could follow, hoping he wouldn’t think to use his copy of the key.

You collapsed into bed with the pillow pulled over your face as you mulled over the fucked up turn of events. You waited for Eddie to come into your room, tap on the window, call the phone or something to let you know he changed his mind and you two were hanging out instead. But he didn’t

He left you alone for the night and you weren’t sure if you were happy and disappointed.

And then he continued to leave you alone for the rest of the week.

You caught rides with your grandma to school. It was almost comical, your grandma driving down the road with Eddie’s van right behind yours. Everytime you looked in the mirror at him you’d see him with a sad look on his face. He wasn’t even doing his usual morning headbanging.

When you got to school you’d get out, and spend the whole day avoiding him.

Lunch was spent with him sending you sad looks from across the room. You decided to sit with some other friends you never usually sat with because you usually spent every lunch with Eddie. They seemed surprised to see you but no one mentioned the elephant in the room.

He sent Gareth or Jeff to try to be peacemakers a few times but you blew them off as nicely as you could. They shouldn’t be involved in it.

It went like that. All week. Until Saturday, the day of prom came around.

Your Grandma did her best to try to cheer you up all day as you moped around the trailer. You had told her what was going on between you and Eddie. Turns out she already knew. Eddie had told Wayne who told your grandma because nothing was ever a secret around here.

She told you to try to talk it out with Eddie but you didn’t want to.

You were currently laying face down in your bed with a song about heartbreak playing on the radio in front of your window.. Prom had started probably an hour ago and you wondered how amazing it was.

You were so sad, angry, and frustrated with the whole situation.

The phone rang twice since you’d been in here. Your grandma was over having dinner with Wayne. She offered for you to come but you refused, not wanting to see anyone with the last name Munson for the rest of your life.

The phone rang again, making you groan into your pillow. You would need to answer now. It could be your grandma calling to check in on you.

You huffed as you pushed yourself out of the bed, trying to get your legs moving quickly to reach the phone in the kitchen.

“Hello?” You said as soon as the phone was pressed to your ear. You flipped through the piles of takeout menus that sat on the counter, trying to decide what you wanted to order.

“Hey. It’s me,” Eddie muttered into the phone, he sounded like he was trying to keep his voice down so no one could hear him.

“Eddie? Why are you calling me? Aren’t you supposed to be at prom?” You asked, looking out the window to see his van wasn’t parked in front of the trailer. You had heard it start up and pull away over an hour ago.

“I need you to come to the school. Please,” he begged. “It was all a joke and I’m hiding in the bathroom. Well, not yet right now I’m at the payphone but the bathroom’s my next stop.”

“What?!” You gasped into the phone. “Wait, why are you planning on hiding in the bathroom?”

“Because they were all laughing at me about how I fell for it and I told them I had another date anyways and I need you to be that date please.”

You pulled the phone off your ear and stared down at it. Part of you wanted to let him suffer and hide in that bathroom before he would eventually have to admit defeat. The other part of you ached for your best friend. He would come rescue you if the situation was reversed.

“I’ll be there in fifteen.”

Your grandma and Wayne almost fell out on the floor when you asked for a ride to the school, dressed in your red dress, heels and make up.

You had decided to go all out, even painting your lips with red lipstick. You had never worn makeup before only buying this specifically for tonight.

You stumbled when you climbed out of your grandma's station wagon. You officially planned to never have to wear heels again for the rest of your life.You spotted the payphone where Eddie must have called you off before scurrying off to the bathroom with his tail between his legs.

The station wagon pulled off with a rumble as you stared up at the entrance to the gym. You could hear the thump of the music and see the lights flashing inside.

You took a deep breath, straightened your back, and then marched through those doors to go rescue Eddie.

Blue and white streamers covered the ceilings. Blue tinted lights made it hard to see but you could make out the movement of bodies on the dancefloor. The prom committee had decided to go with an under the sea theme yet again, recycling the same decorations year after year to save some money.

You found the boy’s bathroom in the hallway just outside the gym. You hesitated, unsure if you could just barge in or not. You raised a tentative fist to the door and knocked three times in rapid succession.

The door creaked open a crack before a hand reached out and grabbed you, pulling you in. You barely had time to register what was happening before you were falling into Eddie, not able to keep your feet planted on the floor in your heels.

“Sorry,” Eddie said in a hushed voice as he kept you standing up. You pulled away to put distance between you. You were still mad at him for the whole situation.

He went to say something but then he paused, eyes going wide as he looked you up and down.

You crossed your arms over your chest, feeling embarrassed by Eddie’s stare. He had never looked at you the way he was looking at you now.

You eyed him too. He had his hair pulled back into a bun and wore a suit that was too loose on his frame. Most likely an outfit that Wayne had pulled out from the back of a closet.

“Are you ready to get out of here?” You asked, pointing a thumb over your shoulder feeling like you may have overdressed.

Eddie cleared his throat, eyes meeting yours again. “I think we should go out there for just one dance. Don’t you think so?”

“Why?” You asked, wobbling slightly on your heels. Eddie reached out and cupped your elbows to keep you steady.

Eddie shrugged, “why not?” before leading you out to the gym with an arm wrapped around you.

The loud pop song that played slowed to a ballad. You stared at Eddie awkwardly, unsure what to do. Eddie wasn’t much of a dancer and you weren’t either. It was shocking that he was willing to do this at all. Maybe he felt bad for the events leading up to this. Maybe this is his way of making it up to you.

Eddie made the first move, pulling you closer with his arms around your waist. You naturally wrapped yours on his shoulders as you started to sway together. You could see Eddie’s so called date and her friends staring from across the gym but you didn’t care.

“Thank you for coming to rescue me”

“You know I always will”

Eddie nodded, still swaying you to the music but slower than the beat like he was distracted by something.

Eddie’s face was close to yours. You don’t know how it got so close but you could feel the warmth of his breath against your cheek and it made the hair on the back of your neck stand up straight. You fought the urge to shiver from the feeling against your skin. Eddie had been close to you like this before, so why was it affecting you so much now?

“You have no clue how much you mean to me,” Eddie whispered, this time you did shiver. You knew he felt it because he squeezed you around the waist tighter.

You turned your head to speak to him, to tell him how much he meant to you too. But when you turned your head, your lips met his instead. You jumped slightly, surprised before you realized he was actually kissing you. His lips moving against yours spurred you on and before you knew it you were kissing him back, using a hand on the back of his head to push him closer to you.

Eddie broke away first staring at you in a way you didn’t understand. You felt flustered, had that been an accident? Had he meant to kiss you? You sputtered, pulling away from him and making him release you from his grip.

“Sorry,” you said, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You weren’t sure what you were sorry for but you needed to fix this. Eddie’s eyes flicked down to watch you wipe his kiss off of your lips and his face dropped a bit. You were sure that you had smeared lipstick all over your face.“We should go.”

Eddie nodded, following you out of the gym.

He was uncharacteristically silent as he started the van and you felt the need to explain yourself, to try to salvage your friendship. The kiss had been an accident, clearly. Something that happens once between friends and is never brought up again.

Eddie didn’t like you like that and it was something that you had come to terms with years ago when you were thirteen and had a raging crush on him. You almost told him, but had read in a magazine that sometimes it was better to keep your crush secret so you wouldn’t ruin your relationship. A world where you weren’t friends with Eddie was the worst thing you could ever imagine.

A little part of you wondered, though. Had something changed and your feelings had finally been reciprocated after all these years? You let the little shred of hope go through your bloodstream and light up your heart with happy emotions.

“That was a mistake,” Eddie finally said, not looking at you. “Are we still friends?”

You felt your heart sink into your gut.

“Yeah. Of course. Still friends.”

And as you rode home with Eddie, you finally let that little crush for him go. Because if you kept feeling this way about him then it was going to kill you.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson au #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie munson series #eddie stranger things #eddie munson angst #rockstar!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #rockstar!eddie munson x you #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie munson x actress!reader #rockstar!eddie munson

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eddies-house · 8 months

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

Smoke Signals

Chapter Three - Two Old Fashioneds

W/C: 5.2K

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

Your first shift at The Bourbon goes less than smoothly and more chaotic. Does the town's hard-ass really have his shit together like he leads everyone to believe?

A/N: guys I'm so excited for this to pick up even more (i want to make them kiss like barbies but all in good time)

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The ins and outs of a bar were something you could have never anticipated and while similar in certain ways to a diner, there was a distinct line that separated the two. A diner had grumpy old men complaining about not getting their coffee soon enough. The bar had grumpy old men slurring their words, groaning about their lives and insisting that a ‘cute lil thing like you’ would fix everything. You had to stop yourself from gagging, plaster a smile on your face, and carry on. Because one complaint and you could be out of a job, only proving that you couldn’t handle the ‘rowdy’ customers as disclosed by the boss, who now that you thought about, hadn’t seen in the last forty minutes.

Not one other server was on staff to at least show you the ropes, it seemed like you were the first one. One of the bartenders, Jett, who had been the one you’d seen working the day before, was unfortunately selected to both train you and run the bar for the most part tonight, no time for a proper introduction before you were thrown into the deep end, only a quick exchange of names. It was a Thursday night but apparently to people in Knife’s Edge that meant the weekend started early. Poor Jett was nineteen years old and the whole bar depended on you two ever since 8:00 PM when you clocked in for your very first shift. It was nauseating having to ask him stupid questions in between attempting to serve tables while he made drink after drink, desperately trying to keep up with each order and delivering them to the right customer, even going as far to step out from behind the bar to tend to some of your tables. You assume he was probably used to it, what with how he did it without hesitation and seemed to have his own little system in place.

It wasn’t your fault, he assured you. It’s just that you happened to pick up your first shift the very night that the kitchen ran out of beef which also happened to be the main ingredient of one of The Bourbon’s only menu items, the famous Shreddar Burger topped with an ungodly amount of cheese and jalapenos. Turns out the customers went wild for it. It didn’t seem appetizing but you weren’t going to argue with the crowd favorite. And now it was being requested left and right, the explanation that the kitchen was currently out but should be back to whipping up another round soon, not enough for their hungry bellies. The best you could offer was a basket of fries until the beef magically showed up, Jett insisting that someone was taking care of it and that the cook would be back to whipping them up as planned sooner than later. You were beginning to lose faith in his promises but proceeded one step at a time regardless.

Just one more task and then the beef will be here and I won’t have to hear another damn grievance over a heartburn-inducing burger.

Yet it seemed to never come to an end, table after table requesting the very same order each time; only for you or Jett to break the news that their precious burger would have to wait and that again, the best you could offer were some fries or chicken wings, neither measuring up to the pedestal they held this burger on.

By around 9:15 PM, out came Eddie from the kitchen, door swinging behind him as sweat dripped from his brow. He was out of breath, chest heaving while he gestured for you and Jett to come over to which you obeyed, zigzagging around tables in a hurry with a tray tucked under your arm, brows pinched together stressfully. A new party of eight had just arrived which prompted you to push three tables together to accompany them, their drink order hadn’t even been taken yet and Eddie seemed to pick the worst time to call an impromptu meeting, in the middle of a never ending rush. Burgerless.

“Beef’s here. Jett, I need you to help with the rest of the boxes so we can get burgers going.” He instructs, the boy immediately following orders and frantically heading through the swinging door at full speed, very aware that he still had the front of house to attend to. “And you, Bambi, change of plans. I need you in the kitchen.”

So much to unpack in just one sentence. The kitchen? Bambi?

“Well–I-I thought I was just a server–”

“I said change of plans, I need you in the kitchen.” Before you could ask further questions, he disappears into the kitchen and for a split second you turn to glance at the full bar awaiting service only to wince and follow him. No one was managing the front and that made your nerves twitch but you suppose the boss knows what he’s doing. At least you hope. Your first hour or so had been a shit show.

Pans clanked against the metal worktop as he shoved them out of the way, clearing the space and igniting the flat top all while not batting an eye at you or caring to further explain. You could just make out the formation of numbers on his lips, no sound coming out, but he was distinctly lip syncing the numbers one through three over and over. It was strange though you didn’t have much time to process it, instead opting to internally lose it over the sheer idea of filling in for another position. You didn’t sign up to be a cook and this was way out of your scope of skills. He deemed you as incapable of being a server and now he was putting the foundation of this place on your shoulders.

“Randy, our cook left.” He begins, oiling up the surface, his focus never faltering. “Don’t know why, don’t know where. All I know is I went to pick up beef and when I came back he was gone.”

Jett scrambles near the back door, hauling boxes of beef into the walkin freezer as your eyes dart between him and Eddie, a certain queasiness forming in your stomach. Eddie continues pulling supplies out and though it's within your rights to demand to return to your original position in the front, you can’t, the words won’t come out.

“So you’re gonna flip burgers, Jett and I will be in and out to help while also holding it down out there.”

“I don’t even know how to ‘flip burgers’!”

It comes out less hostile and more alarmed, your eyes feigning apprehension at the current inconsistency of the place. In any other circumstance you should leave, quit with your dignity intact however that is not an option and you are in no position to be calling any shots; you begged for this job, afterall.

“You don’t know how to flip burgers.” He deadpans.

“I-”

“You ever flipped a pancake?”

It’s not a genuine question, more of a mockery of your simpleminded excuse. His head drops to catch your line of sight that had been previously shooting around the colorless kitchen, saturated in grays and whites that would drive anyone mad.

“That’s not what I meant–” You proclaim, setting your tray on an unoccupied work top.

“Just–cook the meat. Make sure it’s not raw.”

As if that wasn’t the whole point of ‘cooking’ it. This guy must have thought you had mush for brains yet he was the one with a crumbling structure of a business just based on what you’ve experienced in one night. One hour, even. You were starting to miss the senior citizens from the previous evening that appeared to have had a great deal of patience in comparison to the younger crowd that seemed to have more audacity and a shorter attention span.

“But what about–”

“Stop asking questions! Just follow my lead.” He demands, rushing out to the back, the door propped open so he could assist Jett in retrieving the remaining boxes from his truck.

What lead? There was no lead. Only chaos.

You idled next to the grill, shuffling your feet against the grimy tiles beneath you and taking notice of the astonishingly disgusting drain on the floor, coated in some kind of copper-colored grease. At least if Eddie came back in to yell at you for not doing anything, you had the excuse of manning the grill, ensuring his precious bar didn’t burn to the ground though metaphorically, it already was. What else were you supposed to do?

–

You were sure the smell of beef, onions and cheese were going to be crusted into your hair for eternity when all was said and done. Eddie and Jett had been taking turns walking you through the steps of creating this so-called famous burger and after a few mutilated testers, you eventually got the hang of it and it became a game of rinse and repeat. Sometimes an order for a rare cooked burger would come in and you could only hope that you cooked it just enough that it wouldn’t bring on a nasty case of food poisoning to whoever had requested it.

Eddie stood behind you at the fryer, back to you while putting together another batch of fries to store under the heat lamps while you pieced together yet another burger, setting it along the space designated for finished meals along with its corresponding ticket underneath. Eddie dumped some fries onto the plate before swiping it up and delivering it to its table. When he quickly came back in to repeat the same motions, a question lingered in the back of your mind and it only made sense to ask it.

“Why am I on burger duty?” You question, mentally facepalming at the phrasing you chose.

“Come again?” He gives you another chance.

“I-I mean, if I’m brand new, why put me in charge of one of the most important things on the menu? Why don’t you cook and I keep serving?”

It seemed like a valid concern, only your first day and suddenly you’ve moved up to head of the kitchen? Okay, maybe not head of the kitchen but that’s how it felt when thing one and thing two were constantly rotating out and mainly only managing fries and other small bar foods that were simple enough to make in big batches. The grease from it all felt prominent on your skin, and you feared your sweat was going to become one with the vegetable oil.

“Every person out there knows me. And I know them. I know how to butter them up.” He explains, a rogue curl escaping his messy bun in the mayhem of it all as he dumps another large portion of potatoes into the fryer. “You…well, you know.”

It’s uncertain whether that was meant to be an insult or simply him losing his train of thought. Either way, you didn’t read much into it, only nodding hesitantly.

“Don’t worry, we’ll throw you back to the wolves in no time.” Eddie half jokes, exiting the kitchen once again, this time with plates balanced on his forearms and palms, Jett zooming past him to start up another round of wings.

“So, how are you enjoying hell?” He laughs, giving his hands a good scrub down.

“Oh, it’s amazing.” You exaggerate, piling some cheddar cheese high on top of the charred meat, topping it off with jalapenos and a bun, then plating it up with some fries.

“Well, I promise it’s not like this every shift. And contrary to what you may have seen tonight, Eddie’s a good boss. Just kinda cranky but you learn to ignore it.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.” The man in question rushes by, heading for the walk-in freezer, yet again counting in threes, this time using his fingers as well.

–

As promised, you were sent back up to the front once things had slowed down, the bar emptying out aside from a few regulars that had straggled behind. It was a manageable workload between three people, plus Jett was able to offer a little more in depth training behind the bar as well as giving you the official tour of The Bourbon.

There was the main room where all the action was, dimly lit to create a nice ambience littered in knick knacks that decorated the walls, torn band posters covering the ceiling along with some Christmas lights. Of course there was a pool table though you hadn’t witnessed any intense games in your short time here. Jett took the liberty of educating you on the kitchen a little further should anything of tonight’s nature happen again. You learned where everything was kept for their small but cherished menu, where the storage closet containing all the cleaning supplies was as well as the back office which was only reserved for Eddie according to Jett. Lastly, he showed you the dumpsters, in case you happened to be on trash duty and he even gave you strict instructions on how to close them back up so animals wouldn’t rummage.

Now you were back behind the bar, being taught to make the signature drink, an old fashioned containing cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger. You could appreciate it, a bit spicy and a touch smooth, accompanying that burnt wood taste that would get you there fast. It wasn’t a difficult drink to make however, perfecting the presentation was what set you back. You couldn’t simply toss a cherry and an orange twist into the liquor, it had to be done tastefully. Or that’s how Jett explained it, claiming that those were Eddie’s words. The drink was in a way, an art and you couldn’t be sloppy with it, not by The Bourbon’s standards.

A hectic night of becoming a makeshift cook, training as a server, and an intake of so much new information would do a number on anyone and the bags under your eyes clearly showed the physical exhaustion you were experiencing. You didn’t think you ever worked so hard even at the diner back at home during rush hour.

“Little lamb made it through the night.”

Tilting your head up from the cocktail before you momentarily, you’re met with that pair of intimidating but gorgeous eyes, nearly black in the low lighting of the bar. It was interesting, you’d seen many brown eyes in your lifetime but none of them resembled something quite like the universe he held in his, his outlook on things noticeably different from the average person. He had taken a seat at one of the stools on the opposite side of the bar from you, some paperwork laid out in front of him as he began scribbling something down. All you could offer him was the raise of your brow in acknowledgement of his presence, too engaged in perfecting the cherries on the toothpick just right, balancing them on the rim of the glass like a circus act.

“They’re too close together.” Eddie remarks, his gaze glued to the paper he had been marking up, an inventory list you notice at a second glance.

“Hmm?” You might as well have been in your own world, some kind of trance caused by fatigue pulling at your muscles and overworked mind.

“Cherries. They’re unbalanced.”

For a man of such few words, he still seemed to say a lot. The attitude ingrained in his tone never appeared to let up and it felt as if something was either always bugging him or losing his interest. Never content, always sour and sharp-tongued.

“Oh.” You sigh in defeat, as if it were impossible to simply pick up the toothpick resting against the glass and your finger and move the cherries, solving the case of the wobbling toothpick.

Jett emerged next to you after participating in some small talk with a regular at the end of the bar, a grin on his youthful face despite what a shit show the night had been. So far you observed that he was something of an optimist, smiling his way through tough situations. It was refreshing.

“There you go!” He praises, gesturing greatly to the drink you’d just created. Your third try at it.

“Jett, you’re bein’ a shitty example. Leaving your sheep unattended.” Eddie grumbles, sticking a toothpick in his mouth. You’d be lying if you said you wished he’d stop sticking toothpicks in his damn mouth. Well, half-lying. You’d admit he looked good chewing on a tiny piece of wood but he did it far too often.

Wait…sheep? Were you the sheep? Was this a jab at you? You’d just spent the night keeping this place afloat and he was insulting you once again?

“Munson, I’d say I’m doing just fine considering you left us without a fuckin’ cook the whole night.” Jett defends. You want to grimace, knowing this wasn’t the standard when talking to your boss but Eddie seemed unphased while the boy kept grinning at him as he leaned against the bar. “Plus, it seems like this sheep kicked ass on only her first day.” He nudges your shoulder with his, sliding the drink you’d just concocted in front of Eddie. You smiled in appreciation of his kind words.

“I didn’t leave you without a cook. Cook fuckin’ left without telling anyone.” He reasons, immediately throwing half the drink back in one swig.

Please don’t taste shitty, please don’t taste shitty, please don’t taste shitty.

“And I guess you proved not to be as dainty as I thought.” Eddie admits to you, throwing the rest of the drink back. No complaints yet. Only what you could make out to be a compliment.

“So can she stay?” Jett pleads, bottom lip jutted out for emphasis. He seemed to have taken a liking to you but then again, the place was short staffed so maybe he was just desperate to have anyone help out.

Eddie looks up from his list, pen tapping against the bar top with annoyance. There was still no indication whether the old fashioned had been any good or not, seemingly forgotten about amongst the conversation and it was quietly eating at you. The need for validation.

“That’s up to her, kid.”

Both pairs of eyes landed on you, anticipating your answer.

“Well, uh, I dunno.” You shrug. “Was I even any good at making a drink?” Like you had a choice in accepting the job, this is all you had.

“I dunno.” Eddie replies, sliding the glass back over to you. “Try again, let's see.”

“That’s a yes.” Jett chimes in. “Big boy wants a refill.”

“Jett, I will personally give you a swirly.” There’s a glimpse of humor in Eddie’s tone, the smallest you’ve seen within him so far though you refrained from giggling.

“Oh, a swirly? Real mature.” Jett mocks, Eddie quietly snorting a laugh in response.

His smile was cute.

And it may be the first time you’d seen a genuine one from him. He had dimples, deep, deep dimples. It was a wonder why he didn’t put them on display more.

In the midst of the banter, you began whipping up another old fashioned, The Bourbon way. You figured it wouldn’t be your place to insert yourself among the jokes, being the new girl. It was best to keep quiet until you blended in a bit more. Several customers throughout the night had already initiated conversation stating they’d never seen you before and you didn’t need to draw any more attention to yourself than you’d already received.

“Make it a double?” Eddie interrupts your process.

Again you look up to meet those large eyes, practically black holes absorbing any and all light aside from a tiny sparkle you found that survived within them. He was asking and not demanding. He owned the whole damn place and yet he was asking you to make it a double when he could very well just tell you.

“Yeah.” You whisper, unsure of yourself. A double just meant…well, double, right?

So you turn to Jett who was now scrubbing at an especially sticky spot on the bar. He didn’t take any notice in your silent plea much to your regret. You looked like an idiot, pondering over what exactly the measurements should be since today's training didn’t exactly cover what to do should someone ask for a double. At least you knew how to use the entirety of the kitchen though…

“Just another shot.” Eddie instructs, emotionless.

With a nod, you kick right into action, using what you learned and putting it to use while remembering to add an additional shot and not completely overlook it in your uneasiness. You didn’t care to peer up at him once more, uncertain if he was still watching your every move and unsure whether he would reprimand you for making one mistake in crafting his drink. He said nothing so it was safe to assume he had resumed filling out his boring paperwork.

“See, she’s a natural!” Jett applauds upon turning back toward you as you carefully pierce the cherries with a toothpick, balancing them just how Eddie had taught you.

It really wasn’t rocket science and you could feel the humiliation seep into your bones at the thought of him judging you for simply not being able to figure out why they kept falling in before. You were by no means a natural.

“You’re gonna be the new favorite, I can already tell. Everyone’s gonna love ya.” Though Jett’s words are appreciated and far too kind, you can’t help but doubt his confidence in you.

You were used to being a fly on the wall, observing and keeping to yourself among loud personalities. And you were okay with that. Being so removed grants you the ability to perceive everyone else without barely even being perceived yourself. It was flattering, the way Jett talked you up having only known you for a few hours but you knew you were nothing special. He was just being nice and most likely picked up on your anxious undertones.

Eddie remained mute, continuing to scribble away at the paper in front of him as if you and Jett weren’t there. Just as silent, you slid the drink over into his peripheral before occupying your hands with a rag to wipe up any remnants caused by your shaky hands. He only scanned the drink over once before tapping his pen against the counter, three times. Always in threes.

Awaiting his consensus on your bartending, you pretend to pay no mind, as though his opinion is the last thing on earth you would want. Really, it’s all you want. To know if you exceeded at crafting the bar’s signature drink or if you failed so miserably that he wouldn't let you behind the bar again. After all, your official job title would be ‘server’ and server’s didn’t generally make drinks, they served. But this wasn’t a normal bar and it seemed everyone was performing more than one job at a time so if you had to make drinks you might as well be somewhat good at it. And if not, it could render you useless in his perception, seeing as he’d already underestimated you before.

When he finally takes a sip, large hand wrapped around the glass, you refrain from sucking in a breath because although he had already had one, he gulped it down like water. This time it seemed he was performing a quality check.

“Good.” His monotone voice doesn’t convey much other than you’ve at least satisfied him to some extent. But that's it.

Next to you, Jett celebrates again before tending to another customer and then yelling out for the last call. Eddie’s focus doesn’t budge from his work while he sips away at his drink, this time nurturing it rather than greedily throwing it all back.

–

Some time around 12:30 AM Jett had dashed out after the bar received a phone call from his mom complaining that the racoons had stormed their barn and came too close to threatening their chicken coop again. With all patrons now gone and only cleaning and closing left to be done, Eddie dismissed him from work and told him to get a better handle on the raccoon situation seeing as it happened three times in the past month. Jett muttered something about how raccoons are relentless and how they will find a way if they really want to on his way out.

With one last wipe down of the tables and a thorough cleaning of the bar top, all that was left on your mental checklist given to you courtesy of Eddie was making sure behind the bar was organized and pristine for the following day, bottles accounted for, and glasses washed and dried. He was absent for a good thirty minutes but you concluded he was doing his share in the kitchen as you heard the clanging of metal on metal and a few curses every now and then when there was an extra loud crash.

The sudden crackle of a speaker and booming music startles you, a glass nearly slipping out of your grasp at the sound. A harsh metal song blares through the bar, guitar wailing and bass vibrating, causing a few bottles to gently clink against each other on the shelf. Seconds later, Eddie came sauntering out from the back office with a broom in hand and a cigarette hanging from his bottom lip, unlit.

You try to ignore whatever he may be up to but find it impossible not to look up from the glass you were polishing off. His hair was unruly, now out of the confines of a bun and seeming to have only gotten bigger throughout the night and–he wasn’t using the broom for sweeping. Instead, he crawled on top of a freshly cleaned table with his dirty, clunky boots and poked at something in the rafters, tugging it forward. You wanted to be mad that he was stepping on your freshly scrubbed table but you couldn’t help but be curious, pausing your motions to stare and try to predict his next move.

The end of the broom was looped under the handle of a small wooden box and his arm stretched out to open it before pulling some cash out of his pocket and sticking it in the box. Then he closed it back up and shoved it back into place, out of sight. Once he jumped down off the table, he began walking toward the back again, stopping in his tracks when he realized you were standing there watching him the whole time.

A puff of air escapes his lips, his bangs briefly blowing upward before resting back against his forehead. You tear your gaze away, now more interested in cleaning water droplets off of another glass. Your heart pounding, his footsteps only inch closer and closer and yet again, he is on the opposite side of the bar from you, staring you down. It was obvious he had forgotten you were there. The unlit cigarette is plucked from his lips in between his fingers and tucked behind his ear.

“You didn’t see that. If it goes missing, I’ll know it was you.” He speaks so gruffly and low, as if someone might hear despite the place being empty.

Nodding in submission, you can’t bring yourself to catch his fierce gaze.

“Yeah?” Eddie pushes for a verbal response, more intensity to his tone.

“Yes.” You chirp. Like a pathetic little bird.

Satisfied with your answer, he hums, resting the broom against a stool before making his way around the bar, pulling a rag out of his back pocket and assisting you with wiping down the remaining glasses. There had to have been at least a dozen left and by the looks of it, he had finished his tasks and wanted to get out of here. So you worked in silence, side by side.

It felt like an eternity but it must have only been two minutes later when you began to feel antsy. Like you were supposed to initiate a friendly conversion. Some kind of bullshit small talk. And then your better judgment kicks in, telling you ‘better not’ since the man beside you didn’t seem like the small talk type. In all fairness you weren’t either but it felt like you had to constantly conform to certain standards. Then your mouth started running without a second thought because one thought provoked you and now you just had to know.

“So…the bingo night…is that a regular thing?”

A side eye from him may as well have shot daggers directly into you, his movements pausing as he scowled. So you backtracked.

“N-nevermind–”

“Yes.” He answers abruptly, much to your surprise.

“Oh.”

Your voice comes out soft, as if trying not to spook an animal. And for as annoyed as he looks, he’s the one who answered after you attempted to give him an out. He was a very conflicting man, hard to read and mysterious.

“Every Wednesday. The senior home wants its residents to get out every now and then.”

“And…they chose a bar?” A smile tugs at your lips, one that you can’t help.

“What’s wrong with that?”

His face shows offense but his tone holds some kind of amusement, the slightest bit of personality seeping through the cracks and exposing itself to you.

“I just–nothing, it’s just, out of every place they could choose…a bar?” You couldn’t wrap your head around the idea, shaking your head.

“I mean, we’re the only place that offered.”

There’s a genuine kind of hurt behind his words. You’re unable to determine if it was directed toward your question or something else wading through his mind. Or if it was even meant to slip out in any way based on how closed off he was. Your guess was that his sudden projection of an emotion was a slip up and that it was up to you to ignore it otherwise he’d give you an even harder time.

“Oh.” Again, your soft spoken voice carries itself gently to his ears. “That’s…nice. Really nice.” You say honestly, glancing at him.

For having such tough armor and such offputting behavior, Eddie was pretty. His curls were messy and appeared to be pieced apart by his fingers running through them constantly, leaving them fuzzy and unkempt. But still appealing. And his side profile illuminated by the warm lights was soft but still manly, handsome. He was good looking, there was no denying that. His personality was rather repelling though and good looks could only get you so far, not that he was flaunting how attractive he was and using it to his benefit.

Coming out of your trance, you find that you’re both down to the last few glasses, silence taking over once again. Out of the corner of your eye, you take notice of the way Eddie’s mouth forms numbers again, without sound.

One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three.

All mouthed as he seems to breathe unevenly. You don’t draw any attention to your observation much like earlier when you’d caught him doing the same thing. There were depths to him that you were beginning to feel were unexplored by anyone other than himself. A loneliness detected beneath the surface of his solid and impenetrable armor.

~end~

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drakaripykiros130ac · 4 days

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Apparently, Rhaenyra is “selfish” and “entitled” because she didn’t sit down like a good girl after the vipers who had mentally abused her ever since her mother died, took her throne.

The misogyny is so real in this fandom and it’s highly disturbing for the 21st century.

If a woman fights for something that she is owed, she is “evil” (I thought we were past the caveman mentality).

And yes, Rhaenyra is owed the Iron Throne.

King Viserys named her his heir.

The lords of the Realm bent the knee to her and swore oaths of fealty to her.

Neither Rhaenys (the Queen who Never Was), nor Rhaena (Queen in the West and the East) ever had this much in their favor.

She is selfish because she wants to be given what she was promised?

It wasn’t like she begged Viserys to make her his heir. Viserys made that decision all on his own, and Rhaenyra accepted the responsibility and grew up knowing that she would be the first ruling Queen of Westeros one day. She trained for it too.

She is selfish because she refuses to let Hightowers dictate how the Crown rules the Realm, even though they are not the ruling House?

She is selfish because she needs to protect her own family from a faction of traitorous snakes who were planning to assassinate them all?

Because make no mistake: Rhaenyra and her family would have been murdered by the Greens if she hadn’t gathered her forces and fought back.

Rhaenyra, her husband Daemon, and her two sons, Aegon and Viserys, pose real threats to the Greens. They always would have. The usurper would have had to have them all killed to secure his reign (so much for “the Realm would never support a woman over a man”).

“Entitled” is not a word fit to use for any member of a royal family. You don’t “earn” a crown, you inherit it. That’s what a monarchy is. I don’t think any heirs before Rhaenyra had to fight for the right to inherit their father’s crown.

Why should Rhaenyra have to?

If you answer this question with “Because…” you’re basically a misogynist period.

The Hightowers stole her throne and then expected Rhaenyra to stand her ground and accept it for the “good of the Realm” (as if they care about that).

The Greens drew first blood and started a war which destroyed the Realm just so they could satisfy their thirst for power. If they truly “cared” about the people, they would have let the natural transition of power take place as it had been decided (and the people were more than okay with Rhaenyra being Queen, as proven many times in canon).

And as far as I am concerned, Rhaenyra was far too generous throughout this whole war.

She was willing to forgive Aegon and Helaena for the betrayal (because she knew it was not really their fault), she spared Alicent’s life, she didn’t burn Oldtown to the ground etc. I’m not sure if I would have been able to restrain myself, had it been me.

Show some respect for the Dragon Queen and pray that you never have your inheritance taken from you by a gold digger and her backstabbing family.

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lulublack90 · 2 months

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Prompt 29 - Address

@jegulus-microfic February 29 Word count 918

Previous part First part

The meeting was in an hour, and still, Kreacher hadn’t returned. Regulus was getting worried that the house elf never would.

“Regulus, it is time for us to be leaving.” Walburga was suddenly in front of him. He’d been so lost in his thoughts he hadn’t even heard her approaching. That had been dangerous and foolish.

“Yes, Maman, I’m coming.” Walburga grasped his arm with her claw-like fingers, digging the nails in more than was necessary.

They apparated outside the gates of Malfoy Manor. Regulus followed Walburga, who swept into the grounds as if she owned the place.

“My dear Lady Black,” Voldemort swooped over to address her as soon as she’d entered the drawing room. She held out her hand, and Voldemort lowered his lipless mouth to it, kissing her knuckles. Regulus had to hide his sudden nausea.

“I hope Kreacher is serving you well, My Lord.”

“Yes, though I am afraid the elf blundered at the last moment and didn’t survive the task given to it.” Regulus gulped. Kreacher couldn’t be dead!

“I apologise profusely, My Lord. Kreacher has always been a loyal, diligent servant.” Even Regulus caught the slight tang of fear in his mother’s words. Voldemort peered at Walburga before his strange smile crossed his face.

“I do not blame you, Lady Black. It is hardly your fault that the elf was unable to perform the task I asked of it.” Regulus spotted Evan and Barty and took a step towards them. “Regulus, do not stray. We must greet your cousins.” Walburga hissed at him before he could go any further. Reluctantly, Regulus followed his mother around the room, making small talk with the country’s worst, the entire time worrying about Kreacher.

Once he’d been around the entire congregation, Walburga allowed him to greet his friends while she took part in a side meeting with Lucius and Narcissa.

“Fucking hell Reg, you look like shit.” Barty greeted him.

“Thank you, Bartemius, for your kind words.” He looked around to make sure they weren’t being watched. “Prick,” He smirked at his friend.

“So why’s Lady Twat still here?” Evan asked, keeping his voice low.

“The Dark Lord asked for Kreacher to help with something. He’s dead.” He swallowed, biting back the swell of emotions, fighting to get out.

The meeting took forever to get through. Regulus made careful notes in his mind of the new attacks and raids Voldemort had planned to write in his notebook.

Walburga escorted him home after the meeting ended.

“Well, I suppose I shall have to procure a new servant.” She said, making it seem like an inconvenience. “Shame, Kreacher was useful.” She continued on as if he meant nothing to her, which Regulus supposed was probably true as Walburga Black cared for no one but herself. “I shall be leaving for the country estate in the morning. I expect you to be up and dressed to bid me farewell.”

“Yes, Maman.”

“Goodnight,”

“Goodnight, Maman.”

Regulus waited until he heard her bedroom door close, then raced to his own room. “Kreacher!” He called in his most demanding voice. “Kreacher, come here!” He called, and he called. “Kreacher, I demand that you return to this house!” A sharp crack made him jump as the shivering form of his house elf appeared on the carpet before him.

He gathered the elf into his arms and let the tears drip onto his limp form. He was freezing cold. Regulus grabbed a blanket from his bed, wrapped it around the elf and placed him in front of the fire to warm.

He must have fallen asleep at some point because he woke to his mother screaming his name. He quickly smoothed his robes and hurried to the stairs.

“Finally! Well goodbye. I do not know when I shall return next. I shall send word when I am.” And that was that, no heartfelt words. Regulus was just left alone in that gloomy house.

Kreacher was alert when Regulus returned to his room.

“Sorry, Master Regulus, Kreacher just needs a moment, and he’ll get your breakfast ready.” The elf croaked, followed by a hacking cough.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Kreacher. The only thing I need from you is to tell me where he took you.” The elf started shaking as he turned his huge, round eyes to stare hauntedly at Regulus.

“The Dark Lord took Kreacher to a cave, Master Regulus.” Regulus inhaled. The cave!

He got Kreacher to tell him everything he could, and then he got him to repeat it all again.

He wrapped the elf more firmly in the blankets and told him he was to stay there and recover, and he was to talk to no one and never repeat what they had just discussed. He pulled out his mirror and opened it.

“James! James!” A bleary-eyed James Potter appeared. Squinting into the mirror. “James the cave. He took Kreacher to the cave. I think he hid a Horcrux there. James, I need your help.” He blurted out at high speed. James carefully placed his glasses on his face and blinked the sleep from his eyes.

“Okay, where should I meet you?”

***

They stood beside each other on the rocks, staring into the blackness of the cave entrance on the side of the cliffs. James took his hand as they prepared to enter.

“Ready, love?” Regulus looked up into James’s warm hazel eyes and felt a bravery he’d never felt before as he turned back to the cave.

“Yes.”

To be continued…

Next part

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infernalodie · 1 year

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐩𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 || 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫

“𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭? 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘧𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘜𝘯𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘨𝘰 𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶“

Inspo: Sleep Token - The Appartition

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Fem!reader

Summary: A wound unattended to will fester and take its hold on the person’s body...

Warnings: angst, character death, and faint symptoms of schizophrenia (for plot purposes)

A/N: A fic that I finally finished after weeks of not acknowledging it’s existence and Sleep Token’s album motivating me to finish it.

Words: 1735

Tara couldn’t sleep.

Those eyes, those lips, that voice. It haunted her. It sliced at her eyelids, forcing them open for hours until her imagination took hold. Shifting between false and reality-bending that obscured her senses. If it be whispers in her ear, dark figures crossing her vision, or shivers that ran down her spine like the tips of fingers running over each curve. The motion resembling a snake curling around each curve of her body, wishing to experience each spot for itself.

She couldn’t escape you…

Her high school sweetheart. A wonderful human, who had simply been manipulated and twisted from an early age. Crafted into a deluded girl that trauma clung to like a virus. But Tara still loved you, even with a knife driving into a person she thought you considered a friend. Even with the Ghostface mask on and with the dark robe, she loved you. Regardless of your wrongdoings, she knew it hadn’t been your fault. You had no way of knowing that following your sister as you did would turn out how it did for you.

It’d been two years of dating before Tara finally grew curious as to what you did in your spare time. What had been the act of surprising you, she showed up at your house butchering one of the cheerleaders from your class. Much like others that had been found dead miles away from Woodsboro. And Tara might’ve been just as twisted, but she didn’t say anything. She kept her mouth shut and never spoke a word about it. But she was cautious of being alone with you. Tara didn’t make it apparent, but she wasn’t sure if she would be the next victim of your vicious rampage.

But it was the way you sought approval from Amber that told Tara all she needed to know. The way you made a display of what you did hoping to impress her. It was a dead giveaway to Tara who was too late to stop anything further from happening.

Tara liked to think that she lost you that night. She liked to think that your soul went somewhere better than here.

Yet, she still felt you.

She could still hear you. Parading around in the reveries of her dreams. A fresh wound waiting for the skin to heal over.

It was almost cruel the type of games you played. Then again, it might just be the trauma. The image of you laying on your back, Amber stabbing you in the chest repeatedly as you cried out, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” It was a mantra that played like a broken record in Tara’s head when she went to sleep at night. Seeing you reach out for her, for help, for a saviour.

She missed you…

Every time she reached and every step taken, you seemed farther and farther away. But it felt like every time she acknowledge even the faintest possibility you were there in some spiritual form, you grew louder and made yourself known.

And at some point, Tara was going to snap. She would finally break under the torture you were submitting her to. But tonight, after spending so much time with Sam, Chad, and Mindy, she finally felt the grasp of exhaustion take its hold. Ignoring her sister as she marched into her room and slammed her door shut, collapsing in her bed, lazily peeling articles of clothes and replacing them with something more comfortable; grey sweatpants and a white tank top. And before she knew it, the softness of the blankets and the sinking sensation of her mattress allowed her to shift into dreamland.

“Tara~.” The sing-song tone of a voice called out to her through a sleepy haze that clung to her. “Tara, baby. Are you alright?” Fingers glossed through her hair, a gentle hum of approval vibrating through her chest, lips twisting into a small smile. It became enough to stir her to finally recognize someone to be with her.

In the disorientating filter over his thoughts and vision, her eyes slowly peeled open. Half-lidded, stinging with the need for sleep, she squinted slightly to focus her swaying gaze. Her eyebrows slowly scrunched together. Those familiar lips smiled down at her in slight amusement.

It took a few moments for her mind to catch up to what she was seeing. But when she did, she wasn’t holding back. She screamed, scrambling back and out of her bed. Rubbing her eyes roughly, hoping it was just the craftsmanship of her mind. When she pulled her hands away, she found you standing there anxiously, hands fiddling with one another.

You were here, fully. Not in flickering lights. Not a whisper. Not a shiver along her back.

“Hey, baby,” you whispered nervously. “I know this is unexpected, but I wanted to see you-”

“You aren’t real!” Her yell made you flinch, heart slightly cracking. Tara shook her head, eyes clamping shut in an attempt to force reality back into place. “None of this is real. You’re a fraud. This is all my imagination.”

“Tara-”

“Stop talking!”

“Baby!” You yelled, silencing Tara as her eyes snapped open to stare at you. You lifted your hand, fingers curling and knocking against her headboard. The audible sound of something meeting the wood echoed in the room. “I’m here, with you. Right now. This isn’t some fake fabrication of your mind wanting to torture you for what happened.”

Tara pressed the palms of her hands to her eyes. Her mind fractured the longer she tried to differentiate what was real to fake. But she knew this was fake. You weren’t actually here but in some form of spiritual manifestation in her dreams. That could be the only justification for this.

“Why couldn’t you be here?” Tara trembled, back pressed to the wall. Her eyes were glass that never blinked or flickered away from your smaller figure. Those same beautiful eyes stared up at her with a cheerfulness that she missed seeing every morning at school. Now, she was only allowed to see it in the false acquisition of reality. Her mind conjures up fraudulent beliefs in response to a trauma she would never be able to feel or see again. “Why can’t you be real?”

You tilted your head, smiling softly as you slowly closed the space between the two of you. Just like in the movies, Tara expected your hands to phase through. But when she felt the warmth of smooth palms grasps her arms, she nearly sobbed. Legs wobbling as she stared at your hands, absorbing in the warmth as if your touch was a fire in a snowstorm.

“Why aren’t you real? Why couldn’t you come with us? Why…? Why…” She fell into mantras, melting in your hold as you slid your hands up her arms, past her shoulders, over her neck, and stopping at her cheeks.

It stilled her for a moment, long enough that she could take in your smile. “What I did…it was inexcusable Tara. But that doesn’t mean you should allow me to hold you back.” You pursed your lips, tilting your head, eyes blinking rapidly to remove the tears that hung along the brims. “But I…I wanted to be with you for a little longer. See you, feel you, hear you. I wanted it for as long as I could before I had to go.”

Sniffling, you caressed her cheek and smiled. “But I want you to know I love you. I’ll be waiting for you.”

Tara’s eyes welled up with tears, nose stuffed as she breathed heavily. Forcing her eyes to meet yours, her head tilting to sink into your warmth further. “Can I come with you?” She asked, voice cracking. “Please?” She didn’t want to go another day without your innocence in her life. The clueless look on your face whenever Chad made a dirty-minded joke. The purest emotions when Tara first took your virginity. How you looked up at her, afraid. She missed how you clung to the warmth of her body that night and how it seemed to link the both of you in unexplainable ways.

She didn’t want to let any of it go.

Hearing her plead made your heart shatter, swallowing the lump in your throat. You hated leaving her as you did. The way it went was traumatizing for not only her but for yourself. Seeing Amber hurt you as she did, not a day went by that you wished you hadn’t listened to her. You could be living with Tara in New York and going forth with a life you envisioned with her. Which only made it harder for you to deny her.

“You know you can’t, baby.” Tara’s face twisted, head bowing as you held her cheeks. “But-“ You placed your index finger under her chin, forcing her brown orbs to connect with yours. “-I’m always going to be near. I’ll just be…a little more quiet for you.”

Tara couldn’t comprehend how you could smile through those words. How even the faints tremble of your lips didn’t sway the light in your eyes. To be fair, she never understood it even when you were alive. But that’s why she fell in love with you in the first place. You never decided to put yourself first when it came to her or your guys’ friends. You kept a caring and warm glaze in your eyes that anyone would underneath. She just didn’t want to let it go.

“And even when you feel like everything is falling around you. I’m always going to be here.” You pressed your hand to her chest, fingers slightly curling into the fabric. An immense heat radiated from the touch and filled Tara’s body. “I’m always going to love you, Tara. No matter what happens, I’ll be waiting here for you.”

Tara shook her head, watching you step away. “Just let me come with you-!” When she took the first step, the floor gave out. The wind whistled past her, hollowing her senses until she gasped, shooting up from her bed.

“Tara! Hey, hey, hey! You’re okay. Breathe.” Sam’s voice was acknowledged, but Tara couldn’t stop her chest from rapidly falling and rising. Choked breaths restrained and cut in half. Tears began to break through the wall she had placed months ago, leaving her a weeping mess in her sister's arms.

Why couldn’t you be real?

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acourtofinkandpapyrus · 7 months

Text

A Flower With Petals of Flame: Part four (Eris x Reader)

Warnings: Mentions of trauma, not descriptive.

Part Three

Part five

Tag list: Open

Rhysand STILL hasn't shown up to Y/N's annoyance, but she's keeping herself busy by helping Tamlin out, who may, (Or may not?) be changing for the better.

I chuckled as Tamlin grumbled about hating the way the paint smelled.

“Would you rather have unpainted walls?” I teased, and he shot me a half grin.

“I really do appreciate you helping out Y/N. I never would have imagined that this place could ever look… normal again.”

I shrugged. “I was bored, and anyway, you need to work on getting your people back.” I said, a bit of a smile on my face.

The more I worked, the less I thought about why my brother hadn’t come yet, or what he would be like when he did.

“I really mean it, Thank you.” He said, his eyes glittering with the life that had come back into them some time in my stay here.

He walked out, and I paused my painting for a moment.

Eris had said Elain had a vision of the dead coming back to life, as I had. There were three of us. The only problem is that they have no idea who we are.

Apparently, Tamlin didn’t know any of this because he had stopped going to the gatherings of the high lords.

One of which was coming up in the next few weeks.

If Rhysand didn’t show up by then…

Well whatever happens is his own damn fault.

“I got the paint!” Lucian said, dragging in a new bucket.

I grinned at the green stains on his overalls, and the way his hair fell in front of his face. He looked boyish in a way.

Just for kicks, I flicked a little paint his way, not too worried about getting it on the protected floor.

He scoffed, grinning and looking up at me through red lashes with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“No-” I warned with a grin before he dunked his hand in his bucket, flinging paint all over me.

I laughed, and we kept flinging paint on eachother, darting away, until I had a brilliant idea.

I grabbed my bucket and threw the contents at him. He winnowed out of the way, and I let out a laugh-

Until I saw the other red haired male that was now dripping with paint.

Eris gaped at the green paint now covering his suit, looking up at me for an explanation.

I tried to hold back my laughter, letting out a single snort.

He started to grin, his eyes narrowing. “Oh, you’re going to pay for that pet.”

I let out a single screech as I turned, running down the halls with Eris in hot pursuit. I managed to make it out to the garden, careful not to trample the newly planted rose bushes.

A minute later, he caught me, tackling my body to the ground, getting me covered in paint as he did so.

I turned around to see Eris’s body on top of mine, caging me in as he grinned down at me, happy and playful.

“I missed this.” I whispered, letting out a giggle.

His smile shifted into something softer. “I missed you.”

I blushed heavily, and he made to get off of me, plopping down right next to me, sitting cross legged.

Sitting with him, I nudged him with my shoulder. “So, how’s life been treating you?” I asked softly, knowing what type of things he had gone through before.

He shrugged, his smile dropping. “The same. I mean, my fathers still around. If anything, he’s gotten worse.”

He looks down at me, wiping his paint covered hand on the grass before pushing some loose strands of hair from my face. “What about you? What’s being dead like?”

I pause, stiffening up a bit.

Eris and I had always told eachother everything, and I mean everything.

“It’s a… You know how you told me everyone knew about Velaris now?” I asked, and he nodded, listening intently. “It’s like that. Not one can know what it is or isn’t, otherwise the Asteri might find it and…” I paused, not sure how to continue.

“What are Asteri?” Eris asked, and I smiled, knowing he was helping me out.

“They look like us, but they eat dead souls, and keep them from going to the afterlife intact. They aren’t gone after the Asteri get to them, but it sometimes feels like they might as well be.”

He nodded, and I could see the gears churning in his head. “Well, if they interfere with the dead so much, is it possible that’s why you’re here?”

I latched my hands into the grass, trying not to think on the horrible memories that started to surface. “If it had been the Asteri, they wouldn’t have sent me here, they would have brought me to them.”

He tilted his head in question, his orange eyes sparkling in the setting sun, his lips slightly parted in worry.

But I couldn’t talk about this one. Not yet.

“I knew them for a time. Not nice people.” I sum up, looking away.

He bit his lip, and I wondered what he was thinking about.

I didn’t have to wonder for long.

“Do you still have your wings?” He asked, and I couldn’t help but flinch back a bit.

I had learned the hard way that if your wings are cut off in your life, you would not have them in the life after.

Or apparently if you were brought back to life.

I shook my head silently, and I could see the look in his eye, he had some sort of idea.

Tired, and knowing I had to get the rest of the paint done before I could really rest, I forced myself to my feet, heading off back into The Manor.

He was quick to follow, and to lighten the mood, I spoke with a teasing tone, “Hey, at least you don’t have to worry about getting your clothes dirty while you paint now.”

He arched his brow. “I’m painting?”

I grinned, giving him the round puppy dog eyes, “I mean, don’t you want to help me?”

He groaned, even though he was smiling. “How could I ever say no to you?”

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shy-urban-hobbit · 8 months

Text

Jaskier and Lambert learn they have more in common than first thought.

CW historical abuse, child abuse, beating.

Jaskier silently ground his teeth in agitation as Lambert kicked off again, saying something about the little Lordling not liking hard work when Jaskier collapsed at one of the long tables after spending the couple of hours before dinner helping them repair one of the walls (typically, the three Wolves hadn’t even broken a sweat). People underestimated how thick a skin you needed as a Bard, but even Jaskier could only take so much and Lambert was relentless. Geralt had imparted the usual, trite advice of ‘ignore him and he’ll get bored’. Unfortunately, whilst Jaskier may have succeeded in keeping his mouth shut in the name of civility, his emotions were doing all the talking for him and the scent of Jaskier’s hurt and annoyance only seemed to spur Lambert on. If the sneer on his face was any indication, he could tell the Bard was nearing the end of his tether.

“Give it a rest Lambert.” Eskel growled warningly, “It’s been four days. If Jaskier’s not had enough of your shit by now, the rest of us have.”

“Not my fault. Maybe next time Geralt should bring somebody who didn’t have such a spoilt, cushy upbringing.”

And there went the remnants of Jaskier’s self control. He stood up quickly enough to tip the bench, turning to Lambert with a snarl of his own. The Wolf smirked in return at having finally gotten a reaction.

“Let me show you how cushy I had it.” Jaskier scoffed. Before any of the others could react, he turned his back and lifted his shirt. The tension in the room switched from uncomfortable to stifling as the Witchers took in the sight of the Bard’s bare back. Raised scars from both whip and belt crisscrossed his flesh, some of them showing the outline of a buckle.

“My father wasn’t a very nice person.” Jaskier said dryly, “First time he took his belt to me was because I was laughing too much. I was six.”

Geralt felt a wall of ice slam into his gut as he thought back on all the times he’d told Jaskier to shut up, manhandled him. That time he’d actually punched him....

Jaskier lowered his shirt, “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I’ll be in my ivory tower.”

“Jaskier-“

“Don’t. Just...don’t.”

As soon as Jaskier was out of sight, Eskel rounded on the youngest Wolf, “You never learn. You always have to take shit too far.” He snarled.

“How was I to know?” Lambert bit back, “Geralt, you’re the one who’s been travelling with him for years. Why the fuck didn’t you say anything?”

“I... didn’t know.” Geralt said truthfully. All things considered, it was rare he saw the bard shirtless and when he did, Jaskier always made sure to stay facing Geralt. Even here at Kaer Morhen he was always the first one in and the last one out of the hot springs, “He never put his back to me.”

“And that didn’t seem strange to you?”

“Not turning your back is one of the first things they drilled into us here, so no.”

“Oh, for fucks sake.”

Jaskier sat at the top of one of the more stable towers, swinging his feet idly in the open air below him and occasionally swigging from the half bottle of wine he’d retrieved from his room on the way up.

He was half aware of someone sitting next to him, spite and petulance making him continue to stare ahead rather than turn to see who.

They sat in silence for a few minutes before his mystery companion spoke up.

“My old man was always careful not to leave any lasting marks. Nothing that couldn’t be explained away by our own clumsiness.” Lambert said, taking a swig of his own bottle.

“Hmm, mine was determined to make sure the lessons stuck. Apparently I was a slow learner.”

“He still living?”

Jaskier shook his head, “Died not long before I met Geralt. Yours?”

“Died decades ago, probably. I swear, if I knew where he was buried - if he was buried. It’d be more than he deserved - I’d go and piss on his grave.”

“I actually did that. It’s not as gratifying as you’d think.”

That startled a laugh out of Lambert, Jaskier giving a small chuckle back.

“To arsehole Sires.” Lambert said with mock solemnity, holding his bottle out to Jaskier.

“May they enjoy eternity in the deepest pits of Hell.” Jaskier replied with equal gravity, knocking his own against Lambert’s in a toast.

They sat drinking and watching the sun disappear behind the mountain tops, each of them lost in their own memories. When the night time chill started to descend, Lambert silently offered a now slightly tipsy Jaskier a hand up. Jaskier wordlessly accepted.

#the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #witcher lambert #lambert #witcher jaskier #jaskier #whump #whump writing

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little-engineer-who-cant · 25 days

Text

Jason has an identity crisis, tries to fuck his way out of all his feelings and fails miserably.

Part 1 of Sirens Scream Names Forgotten by Tomorrow, Laid to Rest in Infinity

(also posted under cut)

“Be kind to the jaded souls, the ones with jagged edges and bones weary and crumbling. Be gentle with them not because you may break them to pieces with one wrong touch, not because you may cut yourself on their serrated fingers, but because the world has never known to be gentle with them. Because they have never known to be gentle with themselves.”

- don’t you think they’ve suffered enough? (j.p.)

It’s easy to slip away from that warehouse in the chaos of his own trap springing, leaving the hero and his newest child soldier with nothing but his laughter ringing in their ears. For all of Batman’s tech, his strength, his mind, there’s no way for a living and breathing man to track a phantom that doesn’t want to be found. Dead men tell no tales and all that.

(Oh, but you do.)

That part hadn’t been planned, but he’s more than a little smug about handling it as smoothly as he did. Even unprepared, there was just too much that he knew about Bruce and wasn’t that just unsettling to old Batsie?

(You wanted him to know you, didn’t you? Wanted him to see past the mask.)

(Shut up, it’s not time.)

A wrench like Bruce had a certain amount of unpredictability, that was true. Humans usually did. But to fucking show up personally for a seemingly small potatoes villain like him and not just send that little shit of a replacement Robin like he’d been anticipating… you’ve changed your game a bit, huh old man? No, he’s apparently now made just enough of a name for himself that the Bat himself wanted to talk. At least the talking part hadn't changed. Same as always, it was about the smokescreen, the show. The act of making Bruce feel better about himself, like he had tried to deescalate the situation but any violence that resulted was always someone else’s fault. Never his. They all forced his hand, you see?

(Like you’re trying to now.)

What a fucking joke , like the old man would ever say something worth hearing. Trying to be reasonable, through heavy handed threats of grievous bodily harm, how the fuck did I ever go along with that? Being a child was only so much of an excuse. He’d been old enough then to understand the words that were being thrown about, he’d just been too caught up in being the Robin to Batman that he hadn’t cared about the meanings like he does now. Being on the receiving end makes him look more closely at this warped funhouse mirror that’s become his… life? Unlife?

Whatever. The specifics of his… situation … are too complicated to parse through his feelings on those right now. Not when all he wants to do is take his now warm and living fist and slam it into Bruce’s face for having the fucking nerve to bring another child into this, like Jason meant nothing. Just the first body in a God knows how long of a line of them to come. Some kind of demented conga line of dead birds; maybe he’s more like the Joker than he wants to think he is and that thought makes him snort a bitter huff of amusement under his breath then grimace at the ache in his ribs.

(He’s a vampire bat, maybe, they feed on birds.)

(Fuck.)

That’s a whole other can of worms that he is not looking into right now. Bad enough his carcass was replaced so easily. Even worse if it was planned.

If he goes down that line of thought, he might light this whole city on fire and leave Bruce screaming in the ashes, bleeding out from a thousand cuts.

No, no, no, he’s got a plan already and that’s bleeding this city dry and watching Bruce try to desperately revive its picked over cadaver the way he never tried to revive Jason’s before he gives the old shit the mercy of a bullet-

(Maybe you’re the vampire.)

-just because that’s justice . And that’s all the Batman’s after, right? All he’s ever been after, if all the lines he fed to his Robins-

(His food-)

-could be believed.

(Chewed you up and spit you in the ground, he’ll do it again and again-)

His fist raps the alley wall a few times, enough to sting and drive back the looming cloud that threatens to swirl around and become a living typhoon. There’ll be blood under his gloves from how tight he’s clenched his fist, splitting open old wounds, but that’s fine. What’s blood loss going to do? Kill him? He’s no stranger to handling a bruise or a hundred, that’s par for the course in his life now. Has been for years. A couple cracked ribs and some bloody knuckles are not going to slow him down.

No, what really fucking stings is whatever is left in that cavity inside his chest, the hole that he used to think was patched when Bruce brought him into that huge house, when Alfred smiled and snuck him cookies.

(That was the fucking dream, wasn’t it? Warm house, warm food, then you get the shit beat out of you to go fight crime.)

Turnabout is fair play and all that nonsense.

The side of his fist finds that same brick wall but he doesn’t smash into it, just rests his gloved knuckles against the abrasive surface. No use breaking his hand for a momentary fit of rage, it won’t help anything and he needs to keep his head on straight. There’s a plan here and he hasn’t gotten this far by losing his cool. It’s just a grounding point that he presses against, one that won’t crumble no matter how hard he shoves. It’s exactly what he needs because God knows there isn’t a person he can take this out on-

(Yes there is.)

(Shut up.)

But his body turns towards his magnetic north anyways and he doesn’t stop it. It was a token protest anyways. Truth will out and all that bullshit. Well, Batman didn’t get the truth tonight but someone else will. Someone else will look this horrid amalgamation in the eye and either run or treat him just as gingerly as Talia did. Like the weapon he’d spent so long honing himself to be, the monster he’d welcomed into that place that-

That still hurts. It still hurts, in that cavity inside. The part he never thought had a chance in hell of crawling out of that hole and back into his sad sack of a meat suit. Jason Todd went into the ground a whole boy, the Red Hood emerged a warped reimagining of that little corpse, grown strong and tough and-

(And you failed.)

One day, he’d finish that fucking clown. One day, he’d dig the bastard a pit to Hell next to what used to be Jason Todd’s grave, but first, he had a bigger score to settle. In the end, in the here and now, this wasn’t about the Joker or even about Jason fucking dying. It was about Tim goddamn Drake.

Because what had changed, really? What changed? Nothing. He’s died and come back, he’s been buried and dug himself out with his fucking belt buckle and nothing changed. Not even Robin changed. Tim Drake is just another child following Bruce, spouting his words, punching the people Bruce points at and all of them, both of us, were just replacements for Dick who was a replacement for the family Bruce lost. And none of them ever lived up to it, I died trying to be that and still failed to do that right-

It’s as easy as breathing, though that’s a little painful right now, slipping up the wire-frame fire escape in the darkness. Never change, Gotham, never change. A last sweeping look over the city confirms that he’s alone. Or as alone as a log ever gets in a stacked fire pit, waiting for a match to drop. Or maybe this city’s already smoldering and he’s trying to frantically pour water on it.

(If water is gasoline maybe. Then you’d be God.)

(Shut. Up.)

His ribs ache as he slips into her apartment through a once locking window, confident no one is following him, not even the little shit in a stolen suit who’d tried so hard to get the drop on him. But the kid is just that, still a kid. Jason’s been in the game for a long time, not even Bruce knows how far his reach in Gotham goes now. This isn’t Batman’s city anymore, it’s Red Hood’s. It’s his. Bruce may fight crime, but Jason grew up embedded in it. He knows it in a way Bruce and his silver spoon never will, no matter how he studies its occupants. Because he isn’t one of them like Jason is. To a grown gutter urchin, these streets are home, their busted lights a balm to his soul, the screams of brakes and people alike a familiar lullaby. Even the muted throbbing in his face is familiar, almost a comfort of home. It’s certainly not the worst hit he’s ever taken, even discounting the obvious comparison.

Her bedroom is empty like he knew it would be. It’s Friday, she doesn’t work tomorrow and it’s not even that late. Barely past eleven. Really, he’s impressed with himself, taking an early night off. His ribs will hurt like a bitch tomorrow and his cheek might be fractured from the stupid kid’s pretty solid punch before he split, but the mask did it’s job, taking most of what might have otherwise knocked him down. And he’d left the Bat and his replacement-

(God damn you, did I ever mean anything to you besides being the means to your end?)

-frazzled and afraid. A few more steps in this grand plan and the truth would come out, the web he’d been weaving around The World’s Greatest Detective would close and there would be no way out. Either Bruce would pull the trigger, or Jason would. If you pull it old man, it might not stick. Is that what you want?

At this point he doesn’t know who he’s talking to, his imaginary Bruce or himself.

Where is she? He needs a distraction from these swirling thoughts, a way out of the growing labyrinth in his head. She’s always been that since he found her, a light in the dark, a soothing balm over an open wound. She’s not part of this world, with its shrouds and lies and agendas, she’s just a girl living her life and unfortunate enough to have found the devil on her doorstep.

Crazy enough to have let him in, despite all the warning signs.

The whisper soft humming from the dark abyss beyond the doorway echoes in his ears like a siren song, alerting him to her location and he smiles under the mask. Drawing him into her embrace again, the only comfort he had that didn’t come from watching the life leave someone’s eyes. The only warmth he felt that didn’t involve him being elbow deep in someone’s chest cavity to feel it, didn’t need a slit artery or have a-

(bomb as my pyre, feeling flesh melt, unable to move, unable to scream-)

-match burning down to his fingertips just to feel something other than apathy and bone melting rage.

He watches her from the doorway, silent and shadowed. There’s no moon tonight, no star bright enough to turn on him and expose his presence or even grace him with a shadow of his own. No streetlights. She’s an office worker, not a millionaire, so she’s not in the part of the city where they keep replacing those when they inevitably get shot out. But the shirt she’s wearing is light grey, mine, she’s wearing my… Jason’s shirt, and the walking shell of Jason Todd isn’t the one who watches it float around the room like a ghost, flickering at the hem in time with the movement of her legs, the back vanishing and reappearing in time with the swinging of her loose braid.

Blue light washes over her face, staining her lips as she clicks on the kettle. It takes every ounce of his considerable self control not to stalk over, not to press his fingers, mouth, entire being against those lips to make sure they’re warm with life and breath, not washed out and cold like a corpse. He’s seen too many, he’s made even more-

(you’ve been one too, don’t you remember what it was like trying to move those stiff limbs? It took you hours to feel again, trapped in that box-)

-and if there is one certainty in life it’s that if she keeps welcoming into her sanctuary, she’ll be another one to add to the list of his sins. His hands aren’t clean and she isn’t safe. This was a mistake, he should not have come here, he should have done what he usually does. Rampage around another supervillain or five for old times sake. Grit his teeth and put his shoulder back to the grindstone to burrow his way deeper into Gotham’s underworld, chiseling away at the Batman’s iron grip until he replaces it with his titanium one instead. But no, he’s an idiot . So, he’s here, in her apartment in the dead of night, uninvited.

Jason Todd, the shy and uncomfortable man she met at a fun little nightclub, is not watching her.

The Red Hood, Gotham’s latest war dog, is.

(Is he?)

Sometimes, he wonders if there’s a difference anymore but it doesn’t matter right now. Not when they both want her. Because they’re both me but who the fuck is that anymore? Jason’s dead, the Red Hood is Joker’s, what am I?

She notices him, of course she does. She’s too perceptive not too. Sometimes, he wonders what happened to make her that way, wants to ask about the small, oddly scattered scars like knife wounds-

(too similar to yours)

-that dot her body, but she doesn’t ask about his disappearances, his odd hours, the blood and death that have burrowed so deep into him that they’re practically lovers, so he keeps his mouth shut. Her secrets are her own, God knows he has plenty. Whatever has happened to her, it’s tuned her into the smallest shifts in her carefully created atmosphere, her protective bubble, her sanctuary. She notices him and there’s no telling what gave him away. The ragged breathing behind his mask, the soft creak of leather when his fists clenched, some other presence that he can feel clinging to him like a second skin and dripping from his lips like blood as he pants-

It’s a phantom, given life by his every exhale, moving in a disjointed and phony copy of his own limbs, but it’s his and his alone. Rage made manifest, always closer on nights like these, ones where the acrid scents of smoke and gunpowder and iron cling to him even after a shower, like it's an expensive cologne and he wonders how she hasn’t guessed the truth. Or maybe she has. She’s smart, too smart, too perceptive not to.

(Then why doesn’t she run from me?)

Robin would have been good for her to find. Even an older, jaded, more independent Robin like Dick would have been better. But no, she’d picked the worst possible one, the skeletal remains of a bird too young to fly before it was launched from the nest to fall, to struggle, to die. There was no feasible way she could have known, sidling up to him and flashing him that smile, ignoring every warning sign with the single minded determination of a self-destructive spiral, but shouldn’t she have seen? Seen the blood under his fingernails-

(they’re clean, you wear gloves)

-seen the fangs in his mouth-

(they’re normal teeth)

-heard the growl in his voice that screamed run, run, run-

(Why didn’t you run?)

No, she’d looked into the lion’s mouth and smiled without fear, run delicate fingers through his mane, put her number in his phone and yanked him into her addictive embrace. She should have found Robin and maybe she’d find that little brat one day but right now she has a nightmare made flesh in her kitchen.

His hand flexes, wrapped around the butt of the gun holstered on his thigh like it’s a child’s comfort toy, not a deadly mechanism of destruction that he could so easily turn on her. Never, I never will . If a bullet kills her, it won’t be his, even if it’s because of him the trigger is pulled. Small comforts. The other fist clenches harder at the bitter thought, like the pressure will stop him from doing something even stupider than standing here. Like he can stop himself from reaching out, a demon to an angel, falling further over his abyss of damnation to reach her divine light.

So she notices. So she turns, so she sees. Sees him, towering in the shadows like he wants to melt into them. Sees the red covering his jaw and mouth and nose and cheeks, the black covering his eyes, the hood above all that. Sees the kevlar, the weapons, the gloves, the rage pulsing from his skin like a living being. Sees the truth of the man she’s been letting into her life and into her bed, a reaper come to take his due, coming here was a mistake-

He sees the truth on her face, the flicker of comprehension and complex emotion that cannot be anything but fear . Hears it, in the way her breath catches on an inhale that sounds like a gunshot between them, her to him, echoing over the actual gunshots outside. This was a mistake, you’ve fucked up-

Then, she’s slowly stepping toward him, like he’s an animal she’s trying not to spook. You’ve fucked up, Todd . This nice, kind, normal girl who was somehow able to see whatever shell of Jason was left under all of his Red Hood bravado, now being confronted with the truth that they are one in the same and something else entirely and fuck, he’s just fucked this whole thing up, isn’t that what you wanted? You knew she would never be safe-

If she runs, he won’t blame her even one bit. He’ll let her go, even though she threatens his whole plan because she knows now. But the memories of her fingers twisted with his as she dragged Jason Todd along a park path, joy in her eyes and laughter on her lips even when he stumbled… He’ll let her go. His hands are weapons that Bruce shaped long ago, people always choose to avoid him instead of crossing his path but she’s headstrong in her lack of fear. He’s a man to her, nothing more, and even if she runs from the devil, he’ll let her escape this one time just for that kindness.

She doesn’t run.

She also doesn’t take his hand.

She doesn’t touch him at all.

No, Anna kneels in front of him, eyes not wavering from his face even as her mouth is level with his groin. Jason doesn’t dare breathe, what the fuck is she doing and she doesn’t break eye contact as she opens her mouth and presses a filthy kiss to the front of his pants, tongue dragging up his inseam to mouth at his belt buckle as she looks up at him and blinks once, a question.

There’s a breathless beat where she stares up at him and Jason does his best to play off his surprise as stretching the moment like he’s considering her offer, like he wouldn’t die a thousand deaths to take her up on it.

(She didn’t run. Take what you can get.)

The syrup slow moment passes as he follows her desire into whatever abyss this is. This is why he came here, to forget. And it’s so, so easy to forget when she’s smiling at him.

Anything else can come later.

—

He wakes up the next morning sore . Both from the strain of fighting those who he doesn’t want to fucking think about right now and the intensity of his worst, or maybe smartest, spur of the moment decision that followed.

“Shit,” he breathes, watching his breath puff out in the chilly air. Her heat isn’t working again, fucking cheap-ass landlord . He rolls onto his back, flinging an arm over his eyes to stop the assault of the full daytime outside, taking a deep breath.

Last night was a line that he crossed at full fucking sprint, he should not have come here in full Red Hood costume after a confrontation with Batman and his replacement-

Jason takes a slow, calming breath. Rage and panic won’t help anything, it’ll just cloud his judgment. And he’s already clouded enough because he came here last night instead of running to ground in a safe house like he absolutely should have . It doesn’t matter that he lost any potential of a tail, that he was clear of trackers, he had promised himself that first night that he would not get Anna mixed up in this. She’s a good, nice girl and has no business being close to him but he’s fucking pathetic and she cares about him and he’s drawn to her sweetness like a moth to flame. Knowing it’s going to burn him but doing it anyway.

There’s a part of him that knows she’s known something this whole time. He’s subtle but she’s smart. And now he’s blown the whole charade, breaking into her apartment at ass o’clock at night in full Red Hood regalia… god damn it, Todd. One person who cared about whatever’s left of you . It was a mistake, she’ll see that in the light of day. The bravery the dark gave her will fade. She’s a practical woman, she’ll know it’s too dangerous to let him stay.

But he’s a grown ass man who has to face the music he wrote, he can’t wallow in her bed forever. All his clothes, and his fucking mask God damn it all, are strewn in the other rooms. His dick twitches at the memory and he hates himself a little, mind-blowing sex does not make what you did okay, own up to it and face her like a man. So he takes a deep breath, pulls his arm away from his face and looks at the empty side of the bed. She’s probably been up for a while now. Rises with the sun and doesn’t even think of stopping her movements until after it sinks. Maybe she’ll give me a secret for a secret?

But that’s a hypocrite talking. Just because he busted into her apartment and basically handed her his head on a silver platter does not mean she’s going to do the same. And if she came to hide out in Gotham of all places…

If he digs, it won’t be hard to find out. But where will he be then? What good would it do? No, this is fine.

She’s Anna, that’s all that matters.

He’s… someone, but in her bed and in her life, he feels a bit closer to human. Maybe not Jason Todd, maybe never again, but… closer to the dream of it that almost feels like a memory on the good days.

He sighs, then stands up, rubbing a hand over the scruff on his jaw, mumbling to himself about needing to shave, then goes over to ‘his’ drawer in her dresser, the one where she keeps all the clothes she’s stolen from him over the months they’ve been… whatever they are. Whatever you can be when you’ve been lying to her, you bastard. Can’t be a relationship, that’s for fucking sure.

Maybe it can be.

Fed up with his own internal monologue, the very thing he came here to escape, he pulls out a pair of sweatpants and yanks them on, then runs a hand through his hair and looks in the mirror. Tired, he looks tired. Bruises on his ribs and scrapes on his arms, the beginnings of a shiner on one cheekbone from the little prick, a few hickeys scattered along his throat and collarbones. Stop stalling, he glares at his own reflection, then turns on his heel and stalks towards the bedroom door, opening it and stepping into the apartment before he loses what little nerve he has left. The King of Gotham, brought to his knees by a slip of a girl whose smile could melt ice in a snowstorm. Christ, Todd, what’ve you come to?

She’s in the kitchen again, her kettle heating up for morning tea. His heart aches as he leans in the doorway, folding his arms and watching the way his shirt rides up her thighs as she walks, a slight hitch in her step, the way her braid can’t cover all the marks he left on her throat last night, the way she stirs honey into her tea, a sure sign that her throat is raw from- He breathes through his nose to banish the image before he pops a completely inappropriate boner.

Instead he refocuses on how the sunlight catches the colors in her lovely hair, highlighting the lighter brown streaks hidden away in the dark color and showing that it is, in fact, brown and not black. A deep chocolate color that makes him think of syrup or rich, dark wood of expensive furniture that no one wants to ruin. She’s beautiful, humming to herself and smiling as she takes a sip of this still-too-hot tea like she always does, hissing a bit but then making a small noise of satisfaction that it’s just right. Taking the tea bag out and disposing of it, turning around with a bright smile and-

“Hey,” she says, still smiling, eyes still shining and crinkling in the corners in genuine delight, her voice a little raspy, “morning sleepyhead.”

“Morning,” he rumbles out, arms still crossed, waiting for her to tell him to get the hell out before he drags her into his complicated mess of a life-

She holds out a hand, sipping her tea again. “Come’ere.”

He stares at the extended hand, glances over to the open area where her living room is. He sees his Red Hood suit, carefully folded and placed on the coffee table, his mask resting on top. Bold and open in the broad daylight, not hidden away or uncomfortably left untouched. Cared for.

He looks back at her and her open smile, her quiet, understanding eyes, still crinkled at the edges, happy. Slowly, he straightens, unfolds his arms, waits for her hand to draw away, for her to flinch.

She doesn’t. He takes her hand and steps into her sunlight with a smile, with something in his chest that might be the memory of hope.

(Neither of them see their shadows lurking in the corners, looming larger than them, just as entwined. How hers looms over his in the bright rays they bask in, the darkness swallowing the sun. Just as hungry.

He may be the Red Hood, but Silena is a wolf.)

#jason todd #bruce wayne #tim drake #batman #my writing #ao3 link #as this series is rapidly approaching it's conclusion I've now decided to start posting it here too

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wowzah2nd · 28 days

Text

"I'm Glad I Did"

Draco Malfoy x Reader

WordCount: 4k

You and Draco have been married 19 years now, but the start of your relationship did have a bit of downs but eventually you life started to look up as the years went on and you both couldn't be happier.

You and draco have been married for 19 years now, it was rough in the beginning of your relationship, especially being in different houses. Him being in slytherin and you being in hufflepuff. You were a pureblood that was from overseas and moved to hogwarts in your 5th years that was when you first met.

Quick flash back

You were walking down the hall rushing to the library, you woke up a bit later than usual and were running late to meet a friend to help with their homework. As you were running you bumped into someone

Boy: watch where you going

He then got up, as he was getting up you followed him with your eyes till they met him, you stared at them for a long time admiring them till you snapped out of it.

Y/N: oh my goddess i am so so sorry i wasn’t watching were i was going and i didnt mean to run into you

You saying all this while trying to pick up tha books you had ended up you then look up at him again this time he was the one staring at you causing you to panic

Y/N: oh my gosh is there something on my face

You rubbing your face trying to get whatever you thought may be stuck to it, then looking back at him

He then started to blush realising he had been caught staring at you

Boy: n-no i was just looking to see if you needed help

That made you stop panicking, you saw his robes after you bumped, you knew they were green which surprised you even more he would wanna help you

Y/N: you wanna help me?

Boy: Y-yeah it was also my fault i was really looking either

He then knelt in front of you to help pick up you books, you couldn't help but feel a warm feeling in your chest when he help you

You then saw him look up at you causing you to look down and continue picking up your books. Once all your books were picked up you got up and so did he then handing you books back to you.

Y/N: thank you for the help

Boy: no worries it was the least i could do

He was about to walk away before you stopped him

Y/N: HEY, could i get you name you never told me

Boy: you don't know who I am

He said in a confused tone as if i was suppose to know it

Y/N: sorry i'm new here so i don’t know everyone in my year yet,

He then made a face in relation as if the pisces just started to fit together

Boy: no wonder i didn't recognise you, you new duh?

He started to laugh at himself but you decided to stop him since he still hadn’t answer your previous questions

Y/N: you still haven’t told me your name stranger

You giggle at him

Boy: oh right, My name is Malfoy, Draco Malfoy

Y/N: well thank you Draco Malfoy for your help

You then put out you free hand to give him a hand shake

Y/N: My name is Y/N L/N nice to meet you

End flashback

That was the first time you had met him and you both admitted it was both the best days of your life and the most life changing. Over the years you got to know each other more and more and since you were pure blood it was easy to talk to him. Most of the Syltherin didn’t mind you coming around but some did give you looks such as Pansy Parkinsons. You really hated her. She always had something to say to you, even though you were nothing but nice to her.

Your mother always taught you to never let anything get to you and if someone was bullying you to always kill them with kindness. But that never alway ways worked. One particle day really got you and you didn't leave you room the whole day not even for classes which worried draco

Flash back

Draco Pov

Apparently Draco had been looking for you and came all the way to the hufflepuff common room to try and look for you. Even waiting for a hufflepuff near the entrance to get to you since he wasn’t friends with anyone from your house besides you. He stoped a hufflepuff girl and ask about you

Draco: Hey, by any chance do you know Y/N L/N

Girl: Yeah ofc everyone knows her, why?

Draco: i just haven't seen her all day and im getting worried

The girl then made a nervous face, saying that she knew where you were

Draco: w-what happen to her you clearly know

Girl:... she been in her room all day we don’t know what's wrong she won’t talk to anyone from any year and the whole house is worried about her

Draco then made a worried expression what could have happened to you to make you stay in your room all day

Draco: can you please let me in i need to see her and see if she's okay

The girl thought for a moment then decided to let draco in, probably knowing you two were friends. No one would stop talking about the slytherin prince always hanging out with the sweet hufflepuff princess

The girl knocked on the barrel as the password and let draco in, she then let draco up into the girls dormitory and led him to Y/N rooms

Y/N pov

You were laying face down on the bed eye still full of tears, you havent been able to stop crying all day. Usually you didn’t let anything bother you this much but this one particular thing really got you and you were doubting yourself more then ever

As you were crying you hear a know at the door, thinking it was another hufflepuff house mate being worried you tried to shoo them away

Y/N: please go away i said i was fin

The knocking stopped but a voice you recognised surprised you

Draco: Hey, it me i've been worried about you all day can i please come in to see you

You contemplated not letting him in but in the end you decided there was no point fighting it. Anyone could have unlocked your room but everyone was too considerate to try but draco with all the worry you could hear in his voice you knew he’d come in either way

So you got out of bed, made your way to the door, unlocked it then headed back to laying facing away from the door . Draco immediately entered the room and looked around to find you laying in your bed. He made his way towards you and decided to sit down in your bed

Draco: what's got you all down in the dumps love

You always had a weakness for the nickname he gave you

Y/N: nothing you should be worrying about, you can go now

You still won’t look in his direction trying to hide the tears flowing from your eyes, at this point draco was more worried than ever so he decided to get in your personal space. He grabbed you shoulder softly and encouraged you to face him.

And you didn't really didn’t have it in you to fight him off so you turned to face him. ONce he saw the tear in your eye his heart broke and he leaned down towards you and gave you a hug and you gave him a hug back and ended up crying even more.

Draco: What happened to love?

Y/N: you’ll think it’s stupid

You said still crying

Draco: nothing you ever say will be stupid to me

You stayed silent for a bit and draco waited patiently for you to tell him

Y/N: someone came up to me yesterday asking why someone like you would want to hang around me. I tried to defend myself by saying we're friends but then she said no that can’t be it's probably because I'm your pet since I seem to follow you around.

You decided to sit up and sit next to him but you couldn't look him in the eye, scared that maybe you were just a pet to him. There was always a saying that every slytherin had their pet hufflepuff and maybe you weren't friends. Maybe you were just a dumb pet.

Draco then gently held you chin and pulled it to face your face so that you now facing him, the expression he was showing wasn’t one of malice but one of someone who was really worried and cared for you

Draco: Who said this?

Y/N: I dont wanna tell you

Draco: please tell me love who said this to you

You paused for a moment contemplating in the end you told him

Y/N: it was your friend Pansey

Draco got up from where he was sitting and started to pace angrily, you thought he was mad at you so you decided to apologise for telling him, that made him stop pacing and kneeled in front of you

Draco: I'm not mad at you love i could never be mad at you. I'm mad that my own friend called you my pet, you are not my pet. You're not my pet, you my dearest friend.

It made you happy to hear you weren't some pet to him but you were also sad that he only saw you as a friend since if you had to tell the truth you were madly in love with him ever since you first bumped into him. You looked draco in the eye and noticed he was getting a bit nervous and this worried you

Y/N: draco are you okay you look nervous, did io do something

Draco immediately looked back at you

Draco:no no you didn’t…i just don’t know if i should tell you something

You gave out a sigh of relief that you didn’t do anything wrong but you were still worried for draco

Y/N: draco you know you can tell me anything, you worried ill get mad, sad or uncomfortable you'll never make me feel that way so please whatever you gt too tell me get it off your chest

Even though you were worried what he had to say to you, what you said was true you'd always be there for draco no matter what especially how he had been here for you today

Draco took a deep breathe then spoke

Draco: y/n l/n i've been in love with you ever since i first laid eyes on you and i would like for you to be my girlfriend. But if you don't feel the same i will gladly stand by your side as your friend

That left you speechless for a moment then pure joy and happiness just flowed through you body that you flung yourself to draco giving him the most bone crushing hug. You then pulled away and gave him a passionate kiss you've always wished for. You pulled away making eye contact with draco giving him the biggest smile you've ever given. Even bigger when he had given you a puffskein for your birthday

Draco: i'll take that as a yes then

Y/N: 100 times yes i'll be your girlfriend and also i've loved you since that day too draco i really have

You both just sat on the floor looking at each other happily until draco broke the silence

Draco: come on let's head to dinner i think it just started and i dont think you've eaten all day

You couldn’t say anything just out of pure happiness so you nodded, he took your hand lead you out of your room towards the great hall and the whole way there you never let go of his hand and he never made an attempt to stop either. Once you got to the great hall you were about to let go of his hand and head towards the hufflepuff table but before he could he spoke

Draco: Would you wanna come and sit with me?

Even though you've known draco for a year now you've never sat with him feeling you weren’t welcomed by his friend’s so this surprised you

Y/N: Are you sure?

Draco: of course i'm sure, now come on let's get you something to eat

He led yo9u towards the slytherin table which caused most people in the great hall to start looking your way and to whisper to each other especially the slytherin’s. Once you sat down draco started to make your plate which you thought was so sweet since he remembered your favourite food. Once he made you plate he gave it to you so you decided to start eating you noticed he wasn’t so you decided to give him some of your food

Getting some of your favourite food you decided to feed him, and he gladly accepted which made you smile. But the moment was ruined by someone slamming their hand on the table which got yours and draco’s attention

Pansey: What the hell is she doing here?

She looked at draco then turned to you to speak

Pansey: And what are you doing feeding my dracy huh?

You didn't wanna start a fight so you stayed slightly. You were still upset about what she said so you didn't really wanna look at her. Draco seeing that you were getting upset again decided to stand up for you

Draco: pansey what is wrong with you speaking to her like that

Pansey: b-but dra-

Draco: no buts pansy your not allowed to treat her like that, especially now that she’s my girlfriend

Hearing this your turned back to look at draco, you thought you'd have to keep the relationship a secret since draco was always a prideful person but guess you were wrong

Pansey: t-thats a lie why would you be with her a not me a pureblood whos in slytherin

Draco: because pansy she's a sweet,kind, caring person who is considerate for everyone even slytherin’s. And your a cruel and bitter obsessive person who doesn’t understand i will never be with you

At that last sentence pansey started to cry and ran out of the great hall, everyone in the room was left speechless even you but draco wasn’t done

Draco: THIS GOES FOR EVERYONE DON’T YOU DARE HURT MY GIRLFRIEND OR YOUR NEXT

After that he sat back down next to you and all you could do was stare at him, after that day you knew he truly loved you

As the years went on things never got easy especially during the war draco had to be with his parents and you understood that and never got mad at him for it. Even after the war was over people still looked at him as a death eater but you never did and you always told him.

Once the war was over draco found you and asked you to marry him and you said yes. The time apart you spent when he was on the other side broke you and made you realise you couldn't live without him

Married life was amazing. Instead of moving into malfoy manor draco got a cottage in france where you could live in peace, far from people who may still have malice for draco or death eaters who may want revenge. Draco's mother was always supportive of the marriage seeing that you did some good for him but his father never approved of you even though you were pure blood he just saw you as a lowly hufflepuff.

But with Draco's constant love and reassurance it never got to you again and you both lived happily. Draco became a position master and opened a shop in hogsmeade to sell potions to people who are in need and people are always referred to him when they need a potion. As for you you opened a herbologiest and botanist opening a store where you would grow and sell plants. Which worked really well with your husband's store, you were always his go to supplier.

After 8 years of working and marriage you both finally decided to have a child since you were both feeling ready and more than financially stable. 9 months later scorpius malfoy was born he had his father's hair for sure but he had your eyes draco said.

Having scorpius kept you busy meaning you had to hire people for your store which sadden you a little bit since you wouldn't be working as often but you didn't mind if it mean more time with your son. As soon as scorpius was able to walk draco bought him his first broom which you were mad about but you later got over seeing how happy scorpius was.

5 years later you found out you were pregnant again which excited scorpius so much seeing as he always wanted a sibling mainly a little brother but you had to tell him that it might be a sister.

Scorpius: what do you mean he might be a girl, i want a brother not a sister

Y/N: i know you do sweetie but i can’t control if we have a boy or a girl so you have ot wait a see

After hearing we couldn't do anything about the gender he sat in his room sulking for a bit until he heard his father come home. Immediately he forgot all about it.

As the month went by, Scorpius was more open to the idea of a sister but he still wanted a brother. But you a draco didn’t mind as long as the baby was healthy

9 months later a baby girl named Astra Malfoy was born, she also had a malfoy hair which you were not surprised about the gene was just too strong not to come through. As soon as you got the okay to go home you immediately wanted to introduce her to scorpius.

Y/N: Hey, darling do you mind getting scorp so we can introduce him to Astra

Draco: of course love

He gave you a kiss on the forehead before heading upstair to grab scorp, you immediately heard little footsteps running from upstair to the stairs then they stopped right in front of you

Y/N: hey there sweetie ready to meet your baby sister

Scorpius: It's a girl?

Y/N: yeah she is i hope that's okay

You immediately lowered yourself so that scorpius could see Astra and the moment he say her you knew he didn’t mind at all.

19 years after the war

Today scorpius was heading to hogwarts and to say he was excited was an understatement

Scorpius: come on mom were gonna be late

He said as he was pulling you hand trying to make you move quicker

Y/N: we can't go through the wall just yet scorp we have to wait for your father, you know he wants to go through with you

As you both were waiting for Draco and Astra scorps excitement turned into worry

Scorpius: hey mom, do you think ill make any friends

As little sad scorpius thought he wouldn’t make any friends, you knelt down to his height to look him in the eyes as you talk

Y/N: of course you’ll make friends scorp, you the most funny, amazing and fun kid to be around who wouldn’t want to be your friend

At hearing you words he started to smile more but his smile grew even wider when he looked behind you

Draco: what happening here

He said as he put Astra down, even though she was 6 years old she's still a daddy's girl

Y/N: i was just telling our amazing son here that he doesn’t need to worry about not making friends cause he’s so amazing

Draco then looked at scorpius and knelt down to his height

Draco: your mother is right you know any kid would be lucky to be your friend

Scorpius smiled again then gave draco a big hug

Draco: well be better be going through that wall now before we miss your train son

And just like that they got ready with the trolly, scorpius looked scared to go through but draco encouraged him and told him they would do it together and just like that they disappears throught the wall.

Astra looked at the wall amazed

Astra: where did they go mummy

Y/N: they went to platform and 9 ¾ and we should be going too

Astra looked worried too but you told her she would be find and that you'd hold her hand as you went through

Y/N: let's get a running start okay

Astra: okay

So you both decided to run through the wall and once through the nostalgia and wonder hit you once again. Seeing the train once again was magical and it made you nearly tear up

Astra: wow this is amazing mummy, did you get to ride the train too

Y/N: yes i did and so did your father, but let's go find them so we can say bye to your brother

As you were trying to find your husband and son you saw so many familiar faces even though you weren't friends with all of them a lot of them remembered you which was heartwarming to think you made such an impact in their life that they’d remember you.

Walking through the crowds of students and parents saying goodbye you finally found them

Y/N: getting on the train before saying goodbye to your dear mother

Scorpius started to laugh at you silliness

Scorpius: i would never dream of it mum

He then walled up to you giving you a big bone crushing hug and you returned it with a kiss on the head

Scorpius: i already said bye to dad and told him i'll miss him. But i'm gonna really miss you too mum

Y/N: and i'm gonna miss you so much too sweetie we both will, just promise me not to get into too much trouble

Scorpius gave you a mischievous grin telling you that he probably wasn’t going to keep the promise long

Scoprius: of course mum i will

After giving him one last hug and draco giving him one too, Astra decided it was her turn to say bye as well

Astra: im going to miss you

Scrpous: and ill miss you too

Astra started to cry which broke your and draco’s hearts, but scorpius being a good brother that he is comforted her

Scorpius: dont worry Astra i promise to write you every week and ill also be coming back for the holidays so don't cry so much okay

Wiping her tears away she say’s

Astra: do you promise

Scorpius: I promise

After saying goodbye the train's whistle started to sound indicating it was time to get bored, you watched as Scorpius got on the train and found a sit waving to you as the train left. After all the struggles you and draco had you finally had your happily ever after with two beautiful kids

Draco picked up Astra and held your hand indicating to head home

Y/N: do you think he’ll be okay

You say looking at draco

Draco: i think he’ll do heart, he has his mothers kindness and patience as well as his father amazing good looks

At that comment you started to laugh, your daughter was a it confused as to why you were laughing but she smiled at the comment

Astra: why are you laughing mummy, daddy is very handsome

Y/N: i know sweetie, he is but let's not say it to much or else daddy might get a bigger forehead

Draco gave out a fake offended gasp as if saying you really did hurt his feelings but you knew he was being dramatic

Draco: hey you chose to say yes when i asked you to marry me

Y/N: and i'm glad i did

At that you gave him a kiss on the lips which caused Astra to giggle

Astra: you two love each other very much

Draco: yes we do my little star we do

Y/N: and we love you and your brother too

The End

#fluff #romance #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #pregnancy #friends to lovers #love at first sight #x reader #female reader #scorpius malfoy #Astra malfoy #love confessions

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