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#rip my heart out and then try to jam it back in
prince-peachie · 5 months
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“Something in the orange tells me we’re not done”
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strangersmunsons · 3 months
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Eddie, My Love! eddie munson x reader // valentine's day special series Day 9 Prompt: Gift Giving 🧸 ~ 1,500 words you and Eddie exchange presents.
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“Okay,” Eddie plops down next to you on the floor with a huff. “You wanna open ‘em now, or wait til we get back from dinner?”
“Now,” you reply giddily, besotted and full of happiness. He smirks at you, one dark eyebrow raised in amusement at your moony expression.
“Damn, sweetheart, I’d say you’re more excited about the presents than you are about me.”
You swat at his arm playfully, shaking your head. “I’m excited to give you a gift, dummy, I don’t care about getting one.”
“Uh-huh,” he says facetiously, eyes wide. “Sure you are.”
You merely roll your eyes in response, lips turning up in an indulgent smile. Eddie’s lovely, and you really like him, and there’s a small, tender corner of your heart that’s nudging you further and further towards something bigger, although you’re not quite ready to acknowledge it yet. 
Still, it’s there, and during certain moments will make itself known, like when he drops you off at your front door and gives you that last chaste kiss goodnight. This kiss, of course, comes at the end of a much longer series of much heavier kisses that are stolen in Eddie’s van, as it idles on the curb a block away from your house, out of sight from your parents’ prying eyes. But it’s that final peck that gets you, the feel of his full lips ghosting over yours as he whispers, “‘Night, angel.” The little smile he gives you as he pulls away, doe-eyes locked onto yours in a soft gaze, and you’re left wanting, but he leaves promising.
He always turns back to look at you when he walks away.
“Do you wanna go first, or should I?” Eddie leans back against the couch, crossing his legs, arm thrown over one cushion. He tugs casually at the deliberately-ripped collar of his black t-shirt, the picture of ease. 
“Open yours first,” you tell him, reaching out to play with one of the curly tendrils draped over his shoulder. “Please,” you add sweetly. 
He chuckles. “Well, since you asked so politely…” 
Eddie loops one ringed finger through the handles of the shiny gift bag you brought for him, dragging it across the rug towards himself. It’s funny, the sight of Eddie in his dark clothing and chains, holding the dainty pink bag, which is overflowing with sprays of delicate, glitter-specked tissue paper. But he’s unphased by the pretty thing, excitement glinting in those dark irises as he eyes up his present. 
“Hmmm…what could this be?”
His expression becomes comically quizzical, face creasing in a squint. Instead of tearing into it the way you expected him to, he holds the bag up next to his ear and gives it a shake. 
“Nice try, Sherlock. But it’s a soft gift.”
“No hints! I can figure it out.”
He grins at you teasingly, palpating the bag with his hands, trying to get a feel for what’s inside. You can’t help laughing at his antics.
“Just open it!”
Eddie’s cheeks dimple, and he bites his bottom lip through his smile, a look that makes your stomach flutter. He relents, and starts pulling the layers of tissue out of the bag, tossing them carelessly on the floor behind him. You make a mental note to pick them up and fold them neatly away later. 
Once the top layer of paper is gone, Eddie peers inside the bag curiously. His brows furrow in confusion for a moment, and then he understands. His eyes light up and he jams a hand down inside, triumphantly yanking his gift out. 
“You learned how to do it!” he hollers.
You bow your head modestly, and say nothing. You’ve spent the past few months secretly teaching yourself to crochet — he knows it’s something you’ve long been interested in trying, and you finally felt inspired to take it up when you realized that your Eddie does not own a single piece of outerwear, save for his leather jacket, and an old parka that he only wears when it’s so cold that he’d actually “rather look like a dweeb than freeze.”
The handmade scarf is tightly-stitched, soft, and deep red in color. Eddie holds it in his hands as though it was spun from gold.
“I love it,” he says, and without missing a beat, immediately wraps it around his neck, and tosses one tasseled-end over his shoulder dramatically. “Thank you, baby.”
“It’s a little wobbly at the ends,” you admit apologetically, “and I had a hard time with the first row, so it looks a bit —”
He cuts you off with a kiss, cupping your cheek gently in his palm, thumb rubbing reassuring circles over your cheekbone. “It’s perfect,” he states firmly.
You fall silent, willing yourself not to verbalize the stream of worry that threatens to spill out. Instead, you manage, “Is the color alright?”
“I love the color,” he reassures you.
“I thought maybe it would look nice with all your black.”
“It definitely will! Shit, I’m gonna look so stylish. I have an original, one-of-a-kind garment right here,” he brags, running his hands over the length of the scarf luxuriously. His movements slow, and he looks at you intensely, face becoming serious. “You…I can’t believe you really made this for me.”
You cock your head to the side, puzzled. “What do you mean?”
Eddie seems at a loss for words, opening his mouth to speak, and then closing it again. Finally, he says quietly, “That’s a lot of time. And effort.”
You scoot closer to him, so the side of your body is pressed against his, and wrap your arm around his waist. Resting your chin atop of his shoulder, you nuzzle his cheek, nose brushing against his soft skin. “Worth every second. I’ll make you a hat, and mittens, too,” you whisper.
“I’m holding you to that,” he whispers back, eyes warm and wet-looking, closing the gap between yourselves with another kiss. He sighs through parted lips, cupping the back of your head, feeling almost-dizzy with affection. He manages to pull back, before he loses himself completely in you — something far, far too easy to do, easier with you than it’s ever been with anybody else. Once, that might have terrified him. But as he stares into your sweet face, he thinks that he’s never been so sure of anything in his life.
He’ll follow you anywhere, he’s sure. If you let him.
“Open yours now,” he murmurs. “Before I have to carry you to the bed back there.”
A tingle runs up your spine at those words, heat blooming in your cheeks. But you do as he says, and pull the gift from Eddie towards you.
It’s a flat, rectangular package, covered in red wrapping paper. It’s a suspiciously neat-looking wrap job for Eddie’s hands; you suspect Wayne might’ve helped him with this bit. You feel a swell of affection for the Munson men at the thought of it, and smile as you take the gift into your lap.
Deciding not to mimic Eddie’s dramatic unboxing, you instead carefully run a finger underneath the seam of the paper, peeling off the Scotch-taped flap. The wrappings come away easily, then, and you unravel it to the sight of a wooden picture frame’s backing board. Intrigued, you flip it over to the correct side.
Behind the glass, there’s a line drawing of a vase of flowers in black ink, simple but with the scratchy details of an erratic hand. Gentle dabs of soft-looking watercolor paints incorporate pops of color into the pretty blooms, and there’s a satin ribbon hot-glued to the frame, so it can be hung on the wall, over a nail or a hook.
You gaze at the drawing in awe; you’d recognize that style anywhere.
“Guess we both went the homemade route this year, huh?” Eddie asks, sounding uncertain. 
When your eyes flit back to him he looks a little embarrassed, his cheeks sweetly pink, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “You always tell me how much you like my doodles, the stuff I draw for D and D,” he explains. “So I thought…maybe I could make something specially for you.”
“Oh.” You feel like you could cry. “It’s beautiful.” 
“You really think so?” he asks shyly. 
“Yes! I love it, Teddy,” both of you visibly softening at the utterance of his pet name. You take one of his hands, kiss his palm. “Thank you.”
“Pretty flowers for my pretty girl,” he says, squeezing your hand. “I picked some wildflowers in the woods over there for a reference. I’ll give you those, too.”
Something clicks into place; some hidden piece inside of you righting itself, and you wonder at the feeling, not even having realized that anything was awry until this very moment. 
“I love you, Eddie.”
It’s blurted out, without thinking — immediately, you bring a hand up to your lips, eyes wide. “I — I’m sorry, I —”
“Don’t be sorry,” Eddie breathes, inching even closer. “Don’t ever be sorry for telling me that.”
His lips at your ear. “I love you too, dummy.”
You fall together in a heap on the floor.
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thank you for reading!! xoxo Valentine's Day Special Masterlist
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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 months
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Of All The Places to Meet
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Summary: When the reader gets into a bad accident, she doesn’t expect to meet her true mate at the same time...
Pairing: Alpha/Firefighter!Dean x Omega!reader
Word Count: 2,500ish
Warnings: language, car accident, major injury
A/N: Enjoy!
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“She’s fucking jammed in there good. We need to cut her out.” You blinked open your eyes slowly, very aware of how…off the world seemed. Your head was killing you, that was for sure. Something about the fact you were upside down in your car told you that had something to do with it.
Lazily you turned your head at the scent of vanilla and tobacco, humming at the pleasant smell in the otherwise metallic and burnt rubber scented air. Beside you, crawled in your passenger window on his back, laying on top of your roof was a pair of gorgeous green eyes staring back.
“She’s awake!” called the man, his attention on you the whole time. “Hey, sweetheart. You were in an accident. I’m gonna get you out of here.”
“Smell pretty,” you murmured, fighting off the urge to pass out again. “I’m gonna…”
“Miss. Miss, try to-”
Dean’s POV
“Fuck, she’s out cold again,” I said. I could see where her door was pinned against her left side. It’d be a miracle if she hadn’t shattered her hip or femur. My stomach churned once more, hands gripping the center console that was partially cracked and pushed forward. 
This was not how this was supposed to happen. You don’t meet your true mate in a goddamn car wreck when she’s critically injured. You just don’t.
And now there was another problem.
Alpha’s were notoriously protective of their mates, especially true mates. That instinct skyrocketed when they were injured, even something as small as a cut thumb.
Seeing, smelling, my true mate when she was broken and battered and hurt out of her mind?
Yeah, there was no way I was going to be able to physically get away from this little omega.
“Winchester! Let the medic get in there and we’ll work on getting the driver's door off,” called Benny. My gut said to stay but I also knew she needed someone more qualified than me to attend to her at this moment. Reluctantly, I climbed out and ran around to the outside of the car, a few guys already working on ripping the metal apart.
“She’s got the neck brace on!” called the EMT. “We’re ready for whenever she’s loose.”
Twenty minutes later we finally had the door off, a backboard slipped underneath her and she was being pulled out of the vehicle.
The EMT’s packed her up and somehow she wasn’t bleeding out. There was always the chance for internal injuries though. I wandered over to the back of the ambulance, climbing into the back much to the displeasure of the two EMT’s.
“What the hell are you doing Dean?” said Benny. I chucked my helmet at him, Benny barely catching it. “De-“
“She’s my true mate. I can’t…I need to go.” He sighed but nodded. 
“Let him ride with you. I’ll pick him up at county later. Dean?” I nodded as they started to close the doors. “Listen to the doctors and stay out of their way. That’s how you can keep her safe.”
I nodded as they shut the doors, my focus going to the woman strapped to the stretcher. She looked so broken, covered in blood and scrapes.
I squeezed her hand, a gentle twitch of her finger in my palm. 
“You’ll be okay, Omega. I promise.”
Reader’s POV
You blinked open your eyes slowly, grateful this time you were right side up. The bed was soft and warm even if your body felt achy. A buzz was thrumming through your veins as you looked down, the drugs in your system keeping you calm as you took in the sight. 
Your entire left leg was bruised. Literally every spec of skin was bruised. 
And then you saw the monstrous contraption encasing it, pins holding your thigh in place. Beeping rang through the room as your heart rate shot up, eyes fixated on your wiggling toes.
“Okay. Okay, I can still walk,” you breathed out, inhaling deeply. “Hopefully.”
A wave of exhaustion hit as the door opened, an Alpha!nurse walking inside. “Well good evening Y/N! How are we feeling?”
“Shitty.” You frowned and closed your eyes again.
“Do you remember what happened?” he asked, checking the monitors and then bending your arms. 
“Uh. I was driving on the highway and then I woke up here,” you said, nose twitching. “Something smelled pretty.”
He just hummed and checked your leg that wasn’t secure, offering you a smile. “I’m going to check a few things and then I’ll bring the doctor in.”
An hour later you were laying back in bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to wrap your head around everything the doctor had said. Intensive physical therapy would be needed for months and even then your leg may never be a hundred percent again. You had a concussion and wouldn’t be able to drive a car for six months most likely. You’d need to take a leave of absence from work. Although that one might not be that bad actually considering how stressful it’d been lately.
On top of all that, apparently there was some creeper Alpha firefighter hanging out in the waiting area. 
Waiting for you.
Because your day hadn’t been unsettling enough as it was.
Before long you were fast asleep, hoping that tomorrow you’d wake up and find out this was just a nightmare.
“Good morning Y/N!” said your nurse, Alfie. You twitched your eye, not deterring his chipper mood one bit. “Feeling any better today?”
“We’re going to have problems if you’re always this bubbly when I wake up, Alfie,” you grumbled, sighing as pain shot up your leg. “If you could just do me a favor and cut off my leg, that’d be appreciated.”
“Oh, don’t be drastic, Y/N. I know the doctor wants to wean you off the pain medicine as soon as possible but it shouldn’t be that bad.”
“Did he shatter his femur yesterday? No? When he does he can talk to me about taking away my pain meds,” you said, hitting the button for morphine but nothing coming out. “Alfie. I need something.”
“The doctor gave strict orders to have you on only over the counter-”
“It fucking hurts!” you shouted, surprised at how agitated you were. Normally you were always kind and polite to strangers. But this? You were in pain and you didn’t have the patience to be a socially acceptable human being today.
Alfie looked sympathetic but his reply was cut off when a man with disheveled hair and dirty clothes came barging in the room. Strike that. The creeper Alpha firefighter that was stalking you outside was suddenly barging in the room.
“What are you doing to her?” he spat out, venom in every word. You could hear him audibly growl as he stalked over to Alfie, the poor Alpha shrinking back like he was an Omega cornered in a dark alley.
“Hey! Get out of…” you paused when you caught his scent. The heart rate monitor beeped dangerously fast, both of them turning to you. The scary Alpha firefighter suddenly made you calm, his scent giving off clear signals.
Relax Omega. You’re safe and protected.
“You can’t be in here,” said Alfie as he got his wits back. He grabbed the firefighter, shrieking when the man growled so loud it sounded like he’d gone feral. 
“Alfie’s right,” you said, pain filling your heart as you breathed deeply. You had no idea who this Alpha was but you knew his instincts were in overdrive. “You’re filthy and this is an ICU. Go home and clean yourself up. Come back this afternoon and we’ll talk then. That’s an order, Alpha.”
“Yes, omega,” he said softly, nodding once. “Are you okay?”
“Later, Alpha.” He apologized briefly to Alfie before leaving, Alfie relaxing when his scent went with him. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I don’t know how you got him to believe you like that. He was this close to snapping.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s my true mate.” Alfie raised his eyebrow and cocked his head.
“We can do a blood test. And make him take one too before we let him back in. On second thought, that’s absolutely happening.”
You raised a hand, wincing as pain pulsated through your leg. “Tell him I asked him to please take the test so he doesn’t take it out on the staff. Please.”
“Will do.” He paused as he exited the room. “I’ll talk to the doctor about your pain meds, see if we can make the steps down not so drastic.”
“Thanks Alfie.”
You were tired when you woke up after lunch and physical therapy. So much so you could barely open your eyes. You wouldn’t think you could be all that physical with a damn broken femur but after they moved and worked you to the point of shouting, you’d changed your mind quickly.
A large, calloused hand stroked your cheek, wiping away a stray tear that fell. The air smelled sweet, like pine and vanilla. “Omega. How can I help the pain?”
“You being here helps,” you murmured, his long fingers brushing away more tears. You squeezed your eyes when pain ripped through you. “They say I don’t need the morphine but I only can sleep today when I’m exhausted from the pain. I don’t know how I’m supposed to get through this.”
“With me, Omega. I’ll talk to the doctors. You were injured only a day ago. They must  have missed something if it hurts so badly.” He bent down and kissed your temple, your eyes fluttering open. “Please don’t worry. I’ll be here for you every step of the way.”
You stared up into his green eyes, surprised to find him smiling at you. “Why are you so handsome?”
“Makes up for my lack of singing ability,” he chuckled. He brushed your hair behind your ear, his scent coming off in powerful waves to soothe you. “I’m sorry for scaring you earlier. I know you don’t quite know me but I was one of the responders to your accident and when I scented you…my instincts went a little crazy.”
“It’s alright,” you whispered, a flash of pain rising up again. “Can you find the doctor?”
“Yes Omega,” he murmured. “Try to rest.” He got up from the nearby seat and hummed. “I’m Dean.”
“Y/N,” you said, shutting your eyes once more.
“I’ll make it better Y/N. I promise.”
Two Weeks Later
“Hey,” said Dean when he entered your hospital room. “I heard you’re getting discharged today.”
You grumbled from bed, wearing one of his fire station hoodies. He pulled the curtains open, smiling wide as you tugged the hood up. 
“Aren’t you excited to be getting out of here?” He had a point. You were happy to be leaving, with some pain medication too. But your leg was still incredibly fucked and you couldn’t go back to your apartment. Not when it was on the third floor. Dean luckily lived in a ranch style but you hated imposing on him.
“I wish I didn’t have to move in with you.” His smile fell as you groaned. “I meant like this. Because I’m hurt and can’t be alone. I wish we could be like a normal pair of mates.”
“Hey,” he said. He sat on the edge of the bed by my good leg, lightly stroking over the bonding gland in my neck. “We are normal. We just need to practice a bit more patience than other true mates.”
“You mean how I can’t have sex for months until my leg is healed. It’s going to drive both of us crazy to wait.”
“We can bond, just without the knotting. We’re already scent bonded and as long as we don’t stay away from each other for too long-“
“You mean an hour tops? You’re stuck by my side for the next three months minimum. I might not walk correctly again. I might always-“
He put his hand over your mouth, annoyance rising in your veins. 
“I’m your Alpha, even if you don’t bear my mark yet. I never want to hear you say you think I’m stuck with you. Being with you is the only thing I could ever want. We will figure this out and I will not mate you until you are fully recovered. Am I clear, Omega?”
The use of your title from his lips sent fuzzy, calming feelings throughout your body, your head nodding without thinking. Large fingers gently stroked your cheek, a soft hum escaping him.
“Are you ready to go home with me?” 
“Okay, Alpha. You can take me home.”
“You all set?” asked Dean later that evening. You were in bed, leg propped up on some pillows. Dean had spent the day with you, helping you get discharged and set up his house so it was a bit more friendly for you to get around in. 
“As good as I can be,” you said, watching him disappear into the closet, returning in a fire station shirt and a pair of skinny black joggers. “You have work?”
He chuckled and shook his head. “No, no. Just getting comfy for the night. I can order us some food. I’m sure you’re starving.”
“A little,” you said, Dean sitting beside you, urging you to curl into his side. “Thank you for helping me that day. The accident.”
“It’s my job, sweetheart,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “I’m just happy you’re still here. You got lucky.”
“Hell of a way to meet your mate.” He hummed, quietly stroking your bare arm with the tips of his fingers. “I’m really glad I’m not doing this on my own.”
“You’ll never be on your own ever again, Omega. I promise.”
“I know, Alpha. My leg might never heal the same way but at least I got one good thing out of this situation.” He smiled, brushing your hair behind your ear. “This comfy ass bed.”
He rolled his eyes with a smirk, kissing the top of your head before he got up. “Alright. With that, I’m off to go be your manly Alpha and hunt down some food for us.”
“You mean order takeout?” you teased. He tossed a pillow at you, laughing lightly.
“For that I’m ordering pineapple on the pizza.” You dropped your jaw, Dean laughing a bit harder, his scent the calmest you’d ever smelled it. “I’m kidding. I’m not deranged.”
“Good cause true mates or not, that is not happening,” you said. 
“Glad we can agree on it,” he said. “What about a supreme?”
“Now we’re talking,” you said. He left the room with a nod, returning a few minutes later with a soft smile. “What?”
“Nothing. Just really glad to finally have found you. It’s…easy with you.”
You knew what he meant, patting the spot next to you. He returned to your side with a smile, pulling you to rest against his chest. His scent filled the air, a relaxed cozy feeling settling in your bones.
“Yes, yes it is Alpha,” you said, taking a deep inhale, exhaling slowly. “It absolutely is.”
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thefreakandthehair · 4 months
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(don't bother) calling me when you're sober | rating: m | wc: 1.5k
content warnings: future fic, parental alcoholism ("falling off the wagon"), past parental neglect, minor character death (i've committed wayne crimes i'm so sorry but it's not shown, just mentioned), emotional hurt/comfort, ends on a happy, hopeful note despite the tags
“My dad called.” 
Eddie walks into the room, pinched eyebrows and flared nostrils lit up by the multicolored Christmas lights they string on the tree every year, one hand balled into a fist. The reaction  wouldn’t surprise Steve so much if this happened years ago, when Al Munson was still living in the bottom of a bottle of Jack, but now? 
It’s been eighteen years since he’d gotten sober, nineteen years since his last stint at Hawkins County, and fifteen years since making a genuine attempt to right the wrongs of Eddie’s childhood and build a relationship with his son. 
Fifteen years after Eddie let him in, let him try, let him earn Eddie’s trust. 
Fifteen years is a long time and to see Eddie so vitriolic in the doorway of their apartment’s living room— hands shaking, body shaking— Steve knows something must’ve gone wrong. 
“What happened?” Steve asks, standing from the couch and meeting Eddie where he stands, holding the hand not curled tightly around itself. 
“He’s drunk. He called, and he was drunk.” 
Steve’s chest pulls tight, his heart racing. What does someone say to that? What can someone say to assuage that kind of deep anger, pain, and betrayal? His thoughts are scattered as they try to make sense of what Eddie just said, and he’s even more grateful now that Ronnie wanted a sleepover with Aunt Robin tonight. 
“Eddie, fuck. I’m so— ” Before he can finish his thought, Eddie leans back against the doorframe, ripping his hand out of Steve’s and tangling his fingers in his hair, tugging. 
“How could he? How fucking could he?!” Eddie bellows, eyes squeezed shut. “He knew! He knew that if he ever did this again, I’d be done. For good. For forever. And he did it anyways! After eighteen fucking years!” 
His eyes fly open and Steve stands still and nods him on. There are just no words to fix this, and trying for the sake of filling the silence has never served him well.
“He did it anyway! Two days before fucking Christmas, a week before the anniversary of—” He chokes and cuts himself off. 
He knows what Eddie was going to say. A week before the anniversary of Wayne’s death. It’s been on his mind, too, of course. On his mind and in their conversations over breakfast with eccentric mugs of coffee, over the tangled lights that Wayne could always figure out. The year hasn’t been the kindest to them, particularly Eddie, and Steve wants to protect Eddie as much as he can from whatever he can. 
But he can’t shield him from this. Al Munson skips to the top of his shitlist.
“That son of a bitch!” Eddie rams his fist sideways against the door jam, leaving a sharp, red mark along his pinky. “He promised, and I believed him. Why the fuck did I believe him, Steve?”
Steve takes a step closer and grabs both of Eddie’s hands, carefully soothing the angry mark. “It’s been almost twenty years, babe. Trusting him with so much time invested makes sense. Hell, I did, too.” 
“I’m— I’m in my 30s, hurt and angry about the same shit I was hurt and angry about as a fucking kid. All the nights I slept in the backseat of the car because he blew his money at the bar, all the car accidents and court appearances and jail time, all the mornings I missed school because he didn’t know what fucking day it was,” Eddie rants, stopping to take a breath before picking back up, Steve’s own heart cracking and raging the more he speaks. 
“And every time he’d get sober, he’d always promise. He’d promise it would be the last time, and it never was. Not once could he choose his fucking son and I didn’t understand it then, but now that we have Ronnie, I understand it even less. If I was sick enough to walk away from her, I’d walk my happy ass to the nearest fucking rehab. I get that it’s a disease, I get it, I get it, I get it. But I can’t— I can’t do it again. Not this time. Eighteen years just down the fucking drain because of his company’s holiday party? How can I ever believe him again? Or trust him again?” 
Eddie’s voice grows raspier, breath shallow and quick, eyes watery. “Every time this happened when I was a kid, I always had Wayne. He’s the only person who really got it, y’know? The only one who lived it with me and now, I don’t even have him. My dad’s drunk, slurring his way through who fucking knows what on the phone, and no one else can fully understand the magnitude of what that feels like for me.” 
He squeezes his eyes shut again and drops forward toward Steve, forehead on his shoulder and arms loosely hung around Steve’s waist. Steve still doesn’t have words that bandage this up, but he knows how to show his husband love in other ways. Ways that, over the years, have become a language all their own. Steve pulls him in tight, one hand near his waist, the other cradling the back of his head. Fingers slide carefully beneath the hem of Eddie’s tee-shirt and rub little, repetitive circles into the small of Eddie’s back while he cards his other hand through Eddie’s hair, scratching his scalp and holding him to his chest to feel the rhythm of Steve’s own heartbeat until his breath returns to a steady pace. 
It’s only then that Steve speaks. 
“I don’t know what to say, Ed. It’s fucked up, and if you want to me like, hit him with my car, you know I’m game.” Steve feels Eddie laugh— just a few puffs of air through his nose but it’s a laugh all the same. “But I’m here, and we’re gonna figure it out, okay? Whatever you decide to do, we’ll do it together.”
Eddie nods and lets himself be led to the couch, Steve tucking Eddie into his side and pulling the afghan up over them. 
“I never want to be what Al was to me to our daughter,” Eddie whispers, not looking away from the tree. 
“Well, you’re ahead of the game, because she’s already older than you were when he started hitting the bottle hard. And I know there’s the genetic piece to it that everyone talks about, but nurture counts for a lot of who we become, too. Shit, I owe Joyce Byers a huge thank you for being more of a parent to me than my own were because she’s probably the reason I didn’t turn out like Dick Harrington. Ronnie’s never going to have an Al Munson in her life, because you weren’t raised by Al Munson. That’s not whose legacy you’re passing down. You’re passing down love, not pain.” Steve presses a soft kiss to Eddie’s temple and feels his whole body sag into him. 
“Yeah. Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Eddie’s voice is quiet now, a far cry from his earlier venomous edge. 
Silence nestles onto the couch with them, a comfortable addition, as they watch the basketball game Steve had on before Eddie told him about the phone call. Watch is a loose description, actually. They're more just looking at a moving, flashing screen. 
“My hand really hurts, by the way,” Eddie announces, holding up the hand he’d used to punch the doorjam. “That was fucking dumb.”
“Maybe a little bit, but I get it,” Steve untucks a hand from beneath the blanket and outstretches his palm. “Lemme see?”
Eddie plops his hand into Steve’s and Steve takes a look, mentally working down the check list he’s memorized from his decade plus of EMT work. No obvious breaks, nothing looks crooked, Eddie’s able to move each finger and flex his hand without severe pain. 
“If anything, it’s just gonna be bruised tomorrow. But I’ll fix it,” Steve grins and lifts Eddie’s fist to his lips, carefully kissing each knuckle and paying a little extra attention to the pinky that delivered most of the blow. 
“I’m so in love with you, Steve.” Eddie rests his temple on Steve’s shoulder. “You know that, right?” 
“I know,” Steve agrees, chest fluttering despite the circumstances. “And I’m in love with you, too. You know that, right?”
Eddie snuggles in and wraps Steve up, full koala, as though he’s trying to get as close as possible without actually cracking Steve open and climbing inside of him. 
“Definitely.”
The next morning, Aunt Robin brings Ronnie home and together, they decorate the gingerbread cookies that only vaguely look like people but are good enough to pass for a seven year old. Halfway through, Eddie’s cell phone rings and the caller I.D. reads Al. Steve watches, worried that Eddie’s going to answer in the middle of their decorating. That he’ll forget Ronnie’s having the time of her life, and that in his righteous indignation, Eddie will leave the table to go fight and argue.
There’s so much to be said, and Steve wouldn’t blame him, but he breathes a sigh of relief when Eddie simply declines the call and sets about pouring more edible glitter onto his design with a smile down at their daughter. 
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tiredmamaissy · 1 year
Text
Forgive Me
🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞
Part II
Characters: jake sully x na’vi reader x neteyam sully
Warnings: pure filth, dark/mean dom jake, hurt/soft dom nete, public sex, rough sex, profanity, squirting
Word Count: 3k [i swore to myself that i was gonna make this short smh]
Author's Note: this is fucked up but writing this had my heart racing, so it is what it is. i love you nete, i'm sorry.
Tags: @b-ritney , you better stop what you're doing because it's out loool (ty for the reblog btw) @jakexneytiri baby hope you enjoy plus everyone who wanted it to be a lil longer
based on this and this
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"Take me here." you blurt out, frustration so pent up you couldn’t help it.
"What?" Neteyam breathes, wide eyes watching you back up against the tree.
"Just take me right here. I - I can’t wait any longer" you huff quietly, eagerly untying the knot on your loincloth.
Neteyam looks around, scanning the forest to see if anyone is nearby to witness you stripping. He catches sight of his father, far in the distance sharpening his hunting knife.
"Are you fucking crazy?" he whispers harshly, grabbing your hand that’s so desperately trying to rip your soaked loincloth off you. “My father is right there!”
"So? I need you now." you pant, pulling him in by the arm.
"So? So? So I can’t fuck you here” he leans in to rasp the words, pulling you away from the tree into his chest.
"Fuck. Neteyam. Maybe I should go and ask your father to fuck me since you’re so concerned about him." you hiss, peering up into his eyes.
Neteyam grabs your other wrist, binding them both together in one hand, hard enough to bruise your silken skin. He pushes you back against the scaly tree, pinning your hands above your head. He’s inches away from your face, panting hot air into your face.
"What the fuck did you just say?" he mutters, shoving his knee in between your legs, applying pressure to your needy little cunt.
You can’t help but giggle, pleased with yourself that you know exactly how to get what you want, when you want.
"Haah... I said" you pant, "I said, maybe I should get your dad to fuc-"
Neteyam yanks you towards him once more, spinning you around to shove your face against the tree. He tugs down his loincloth just enough for his painfully rock hard cock to slap right between your wet pussy lips.
"This is what you want?" he thrusts between your folds a few times before lining his cockhead up with your dripping entrance. "Hm? Then take it." he pants into the shell of your ear, slamming his cock inside you. "Take every fucking inch of it." he groans lowly, staying deep inside your cunt - jabbing his swollen cockhead into your cervix.
"F-fuck!" You cry out, walls of your heat clamping around him, trying so desperately to stretch out enough for his fat cock.
A hand flies up to cup your mouth. "Shush, you desperate little thing. Wanting me to fuck you in broad daylight, right in front of my fucking father. Yeah?" he grunts quietly, setting a merciless pace right off the bat.
Your muffled, filthy cries and whimpers only rile him up more, making him pound into your slippery, tight cunt.
Fuck, does it feel good.
"Mmmph! Mmm!" You moan, thrashing your head to get out of his grip.
"Fuck. Don't fight me, baby. I thought you wanted this?" he growls lowly, digging his fingers into your cheeks, "Hush up and take it."
You're so fucking close, you just need him to go a little deeper... a little harder. You arch your back, trying to angle his cockhead to jam right into your sweet spot, all on your own. But all he's doing is teasing you, brushing against it ever so slightly.
It's driving you crazy.
"Look at you squirming around, trying to make yourself cum." he thrusts right into your sweet spot. "Yeah, I know exactly where it is. But, oh sweetheart. You'll have to fucking earn it, won't you?" he pants, plunging two fingers into your mouth.
This how he likes to play. He'll act all sweet, and considerate, and the moment you do something - say something to piss him off he's quick to put you in your fucking place. Then he'll tease, and tease you, taking joy in watching you squirm around as you try to make him fuck you out right. Making you beg him to fuck you faster - harder, all so you can cover his cock with your cum.
Fuck. You couldn't take it anymore.
"Fuck me harder!" you squeal, biting down onto his fingers.
"Sst!" he yanks his fingers out your mouth, "Shut it. You're so fucking needy. So fucking noisy." he growls deeply, manhandling your hips to drill his cock deep inside you.
"That’s no way to talk to a lady. Thought I taught ya better than that, son" Jake interrupts, arms crossed over his chest, leg propped up on a large tree stump.
"Shit. I - I" Neteyam stutters, frozen - cock still buried deep inside you.
You hide your flushed face into your arms, mortified that the Olo'eyktan has caught you two in the act - in public at that.
"Oh, sweetheart. Is my boy not treating ya right?" he clicks his tongue, trying to have a good luck at your face.
"Sir, I - I can explain." Neteyam starts pulling out of you, making you whimper quietly.
"No - no. Go ahead, son. Let's see if you've learned anything that I've been tryna drill into that goddamn head of yours." Jake snaps, taking a seat on the tree stump, gesturing for him to continue.
Was his father really telling him to fuck you? In front of him? The thought of the Olo'eyktan watching you get fucked out only made the blood pump in your veins harder, making you even more flushed... even more aroused. You'd never admit it, but you'd always had a thing for his father. Who wouldn't? A warrior with that much power and strength. Your thighs rubbed together at the mere thought, just as Neteyam slides back inside of you.
Fuck, are we really doing it? You look behind you, shock plastered on your face.
"'m sorry, love." Neteyam whispers in your ear as he pumps his cock in and out of you. He couldn't disobey his fathers orders - he would never dare.
He thrusts into you languidly, keeping his hands frozen on your hips, gaze locked onto anything but the spectator - the judge. You're afraid to make a peep, covering your own mouth as he gently grazes past the swell of your g-spot. Perhaps it was the audience, but Neteyam seemed to have stage fright. He went from pinning you against the tree, plunging two fingers in your mouth and pounding sweet squelching noises out your pussy to - well, this.
"Go on boy. Fuck her like you were before. No need to hold back 'cause of your old man." Jake chuckles, eyes fixated on your bouncing breasts.
Neteyam's hips pick up speed, rutting into you a little faster - a little harder. Little moans make their way up your throat and you try your best to hold them in, squeezing your eyes shut and biting your bottom lip.
Thrust. Right into your sweet spot.
"Oh f-fuck!" your eyes pop open, looking the Olo'eyktan directly in the face as you let loose a strained moan. Neteyam's covers your mouth once more, not wanting anyone else but him to hear your pathetic, filthy, little noises. You can't help but rub your thighs together, arching your back so that he can tickle that sensitive spot deep in your cunt again - all while you stare into his father's eyes.
Jake props his elbows on his knees, face resting in his hand as he holds eye contact with you. It's as if he were asking you for permission to fuck you properly - to fuck you how a real warrior should. You stare at Jake, teardrops crashing onto Neteyam's hand that cups your mouth, silently telling him 'please' as you squirm around trying to make yourself cum. Your eyes fall to the bulge between his legs, earning you a little sly smirk from his father.
Shit. What am I doing? Your eyes flutter before tearing away from the sight of his clothed, growing cock.
"Hands off her mouth, boy. What the hell are you thinking? You tryna suffocate the poor girl?" Jake waves his hand at his son as he gets up, an expression of dissatisfaction smothered on his face.
"Sorry, sir." Neteyam breathes, hand falling back to your hip.
He walks slowly over to you and leans into your face, inches away from your lips. "Are you feeling good, babygirl?" he asks huskily, his predatory eyes boring into yours.
"I - I, uh. Y-yes" you squeak, feeling a little embarrassed.
"Doesn't seem that way, sweetheart. You've been squirming around tryna make yourself cum." he whispers, inching his mouth closer and closer to your ear. "I can help you with that." he whispers before pulling back to look into your eyes once more.
Your eyes frantically search his, brows pinched together and mouth slightly parted - an expression of desperation. You wanted to cum so badly. You wanted him to make you cum so badly. But you didn't want to admit it. You couldn't admit it, not with Neteyam here - with Neteyam still inside you like this. You bat your eyes a few times, breath becoming raggedy. Jake smiles, taking this as your way of saying 'fuck me, please'.
"Alright." Jake stands, huffing out a sigh as if he were about to do some charity work. "Looks like I'm gonna have to show ya. Move out the way." he orders.
Neteyam grinds his teeth, hard enough he may actually chip one. He looks at his father, then down to you with defeat in his eyes. He knew he didn't have a choice here, but that didn't take away the feelings pulsing through his veins, the green flame of envy in his chest - the blood bubbling in his heart. Reluctantly, he pulls out of you and steps back, eyes locked onto his feet.
"N-nete?" you whine quietly, eyes bulging from the sight of his father taking his position behind you.
"Sorry, love." he mutters, retreating to the tree stump.
You watch as Jake quickly shifts his loincloth to the side, unsheathing his massive cock. If your eyes could pop out of your head anymore, they would. You stare at his hung cock in awe, covered in blue prominent stripes with a thick mushroomy head. He's easily a few inches bigger than Neteyam. You gulp down a wad of spit, quickly turning to face the tree once again, squeezing your eyes as you prepare yourself to be ripped into two.
"Easy. I'll take my time with you, sweet thing." he whispers low in your ear.
He clears his throat. "First." he projects his voice, "you need to get her into a comfortable position. If you wanna pin her against a tree, you gotta have her facing ya." he spins you around, bringing you face to face with him.
"Then, you gotta put her leg around ya. Like this." he huffs, hoisting one leg around his hip. "Feel okay, sweetheart?"
"Mm-mhm." you mumble, feeling something thick press between the folds of your pussy.
"Good. See, boy?" Jake raises his brows, "then, you enter her. Slowly. You can't just ram it in."
You look over at Neteyam, elbows on his knees as he hangs his head low, peering up at you through his brows. He's visibly fighting the urge to lash out at his father, or was it... the urge to cry? It's hard to tell. But the more his eyes water, is the more difficult it becomes to keep looking Neteyam in the eye.
But you can't look away.
You feel Jake's bottom lip brush against your ear. "Ready?" he whispers, rubbing his tip against your entrance - lubricating it with your thick slick. You nod slightly, still staring at Neteyam, who watches as your eyes widen, brows pinch and jaw drops when his father slowly slides himself inside of you.
Your hand flies to your open mouth, hoping to muffle your tiny, strained whimpers as his cock stretches you out.
"No need to be quiet with me, babygirl." Jake whispers, rubbing your thigh that's holding tightly onto his hip. "Lemme know if you need a minute, okay?"
Allowing your hand to fall from your mouth, you pant "o-okay. I need... a minute."
"Alright. You're okay." he hums, waiting patiently for you to adjust to his sheer size. "See, son? Their comfort comes first."
Neteyam lets out a silent sigh, closing his eyes and furrowing his brows. The sight crushed his heart.
Jake feels your walls relax around his cock - your body's way of telling you it's ready to be fucked once more. All he does is quirk his brows, silently asking you if you're ready for him to fuck you good - fuck you right. Another hasty nod grants him permission.
"Now watch, boy." he commands, angling his hips from the get-go, prodding his mushroomy head right against your sweet spot. "It's about the angle of your hips. Got it? So when you... thrust ...fuck 'em... thrust ... they can't help but moan your-"
"Ugh fuck, Jake! Sorry, I - I mean... sir." you whimper.
"...name." he smiles, "It's alright sweetie, you can call me Jake."
Neteyam can no longer look, not even at you. He hated seeing your face screw with pleasure, all from his own father's thrusts. He hangs his head low, listening to your broken whimpers and whines that you tried so desperately to keep to a minimum. You couldn't help it though, your cunt is squeezing so tightly around his cock it made it hard to deny how good he's making you feel.
"And when you feel 'em clenching around you? that's when you fuck right..." he shifts his pelvis once more, angling his cockhead right into your sweet spot, "...here."
"Holyy shit!" you let loose a high pitched, lengthy whimper.
He chuckles breathily. "and that's when you pick up your speed, boy." Jake begins pounding into you, fucking the air right out of your lungs.
It's like a fire had been set in your lower back, pooling towards your pelvis to set your nerves on fire with it. You try your hardest not to cum, doing everything in you not to succumb to his insistent, relentless thrusts. But you couldn't help it - oh fuck, it was the best pounding you've gotten in your entire existence. Your pussy walls can't help but clamp around him, just as you feel his hand slide down to your clit.
"Oh, and son? Don't forget to give some love to this little nub here." he gives your clit one, quick swipe with his fingers, sending you over the edge.
"Fuck! Cumming!" you cry out suddenly, head slumping into Jake's chest as your cunt flutters helplessly around his cock.
"There we go. You're alright, sweetie." Jake holds onto you closely, waiting for you to come down from your high. "See that, boy?" Jake raises his voice, looking over at Neteyam. He's got his head buried in his hands now, ears flattened and shoulders slumped. Jake scoffs at the sight. "Not looking, I see. That's why nothing gets through that thick head of yours." he huffs, growing more and more pissed off.
"This boy ever make you squirt, sweetheart?" he hums, carrying you over to the large tree stump.
You're too fucked out to answer. Cock still buried deep inside you, every step he takes feels like a jolt of electricity surging though your spine. Little mewls part your lips, as you try your best to cling on to him for dear life.
"Ah. You're not gonna answer me either?" he clicks his tongue in disappointment, suddenly pulling out of you. "I'll take that as a no. Such a shame." he shakes his head, plopping you down on the ground right at Neteyam's feet. He yanks you up on all fours, hung cock pressing firmly between your folds once more.
"Watch me this time, Neteyam. I won't repeat myself again, boy." Jake scolds him, lining up his tip with your entrance.
You look up, to be met with watery, rage filled eyes, tears silently rolling down his cheeks. "Oh, Nete. D-don't cry." you hiccup, climbing up on his knees, face inches away from his. "I - I'm sorry, my love." you apologize, but not for being so loud and getting yourself into this position, [lol] but for how good a cock that isn't his is making you feel.
His eyes flutter in response, blinking out a few tears that were blurring his vision of you. He feels you grip onto his knees, digging your nails into them as Jake sinks his cock slowly inside of you once more. You grit your teeth, much like he is his, and struggle to hide in your expressions just how good his father is making you feel.
"I - I love you nete." it slips out just as jakes mushroomy head kisses your poor, bruised cervix. "'m s-so sorry"
Jake's only getting more pissed off with the two of you. "Yeah? You're gonna be sayin' you love me by the time 'm done with ya, sweet little thing." Jake groans in your ear, slamming into you so hard he winds you.
"Ahh haah, ngh f-fuck, Nete!” you stare into his teary eyes as you reach out for him, “Please f-forgive me” you pant, stars blurring your vision. Neteyam's dead silent, closing his eyes once more, feeling your little dainty fingers grip him tightly.
"Quiet." Jake spits, getting upset that you're moaning his son's name instead of his.
It was quite silly, really. Jake had Neytiri, and you were his son's mate yet he had the strongest urge to make you his little bitch. To fuck you so hard he'd ruin you for any other man - even if it's his son. Once again, he feels the quick, brief flutter of your pussy walls around him, right before they clench around his cock.
"Look. Look at her, son. Look at how her body responds to me when I fuck into her like this." Jake growls, slamming into you so hard that you’re swollen lips brush against Neteyam's. "This is how a real warrior is supposed to fuck, got it?"
"I love you. I do. I-I really do love you. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so- oh fuck!" you let loose a high-pitched squeal, clawing at his hand.
Neteyam's eyes pop open. He can’t bring himself to answer because he’s too busy watching your face screw into that same filthy face you make right before you cum. And oh boy, did that make his heart throb.
Jake gives you one hard thrust, right into that fucked out little sweet spot of yours, making you shake uncontrollably as you gush all over your legs, making a pool of your own cum at Neteyam's feet.
"Got it, boy?!" Jake shouts, thrusting into you a final time, slumping you over into Neteyam's lap before pulling out of you roughly.
"Yes sir…" he grimaces, watching your lifeless body collapse into his lap.
"Good. See to this mess." Jake spits as he quickly fixes his loincloth, leaving you behind for Neteyam to clean up.
-
totally forgot my taglist: also lemme know if you're tagged and don't wanna be <3
Tags:@jakexneytiri @sweethoneycn @deadgirl02 @keijis-wifey @pandorxx @swiftielivvie @teyamfangirl @avatar-lover @sooebear @vanillawhale @bxnnywriting @athenachu @trashboat-the-raccoon @avaixe @qweq-6802 @rodeosayu @girlpostingsposts @erinloversworld @agelsully @zetey @raaaaainn  @eywascall @yawneneteyam @weirdomcu @pandxrastars @eichenhouseproperty @camgod78 @kibiscribbles @bedofpearls @kurtsworld096 @audrinawf @otukirey @deexdeez @c78r @bby-bo @neteyamsmate4life @wheniseeyouigogonutz @sullymenrhot @jakescumdump @erenjaegerwifee @eywaheardyou @saturnheartz @lovekeeho @afro-hispwriter @lovemyavatar @rainbowsocks @eddiesluvt @etherialblackrose @sleepilysworld @fezandashgirlfriend @kahlowy @babyymeme @lovekeeho @ilove444sworld @kaixiio @becksimagination @ameliestsblog @theycallmesia @boooogieman @fanboyluvr @boohoobaby @that-one-lightskin @st-cass @jakesully-sbabygirl @urfavgirlmakenna @zaddyskye69 @doggyteam2028 @iikatsukii @netemoon @onmyknees4loak @1-800-not-simping @khamaniix
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mintmatcha · 5 months
Text
cw: implied mental illness/substance abuse references
Denki jams his tongue into his cheek as he types, folding his gum in half before popping it between his teeth. The action is repeated: squish, snap, squish, snap-- unmuted by his open mouth. The waves and all their static do nothing to cover the sound of it; the sand was abandoned long before sunset, but the ocean is never quiet.
Suddenly, Denki sits up, looking to you as if he just remembered you exist.
"Shit, you hate that sound, don't you?" He swallows hard and you know the piece of gum is gone, "My bad."
"It's okay."
"I'm just really trying to quit smoking."
"I know."
He stares at you for a long while, then sighs. He drags his finger through the sand, peeling away layers of dry to reveal the darker, wet below. Weight has filled out his cheeks and middle in ways that you know he hates, but it looks so much healthier than he's even been.
"Everyone hated when I smelled like cigarettes apparently," Denki says, trying to laugh, "It sucks that no one told me that I stunk all the time."
Everyone is code for the girl he keeps texting, one one that lights his screen up with pretty pink hearts and messages that make his eyes glimmer. She texts again, a soft yet unrelenting force.
"I liked it." The horizon is dotted with lights, blinking against the surf. They follow their own pattern, blinking arrhythmically with each other against the surf, "It just smelled like you to me."
"Do you..." Denki rubs the back of his neck, "I dunno, do you really miss all that?"
All that includes too much. The peaks, the lows. Before his medications were balanced and before he quit partying, when neither of you had any control over your lives.
"No," you say, and you mean it, "But I miss knowing things about you."
"You know me." Denki's phone buzzes again, "I'm still me."
"I know."
"I'm still your Kaminari."
"I know."
He isn't. He no longer stops for a pack of cigarettes and a row of Hi-Chew every night. He no longer responds to your texts or reaches out first. It's been months since he last passed out on your bathroom floor, months since he asked you if you were alright.
His hair is shorter than he's ever liked it.
A horn goes off in the distance: a ship rolling into port.
"I don't know what to do with you," Denki sighs, "Did you not want me to get better? Because it feels like you didn't want me to."
He waits only a second for you before sighing again.
"Why did you ask me to come here?"
Because you missed him. Because you need a friend. Because you've always come when he's called.
All you even wanted was for him to be okay.
"I just didn't think getting better would mean I'd lose you."
"You didn't-" His phone goes off again, humming and buzzing harder. He scrambles to pick it up, pushing on to his feet. "Fuck, I really gotta take this."
"It's fine."
"I'll be right back."
"It's fine."
He answers and calls her baby with all the warmth and welcome he used to have for you. She's the one he goes to when the waters are calm and life is easy. You are the port in a storm, the one holding an umbrella until the rain passes.
You leave your sneakers there and walk the shore, the lace foam clinging to your socks and salt licking at your jeans. After fifteen minutes, he calls you once. You wait for a text or second try, but it doesn't come.
When you cry, it's from the bottom of the gut, ripping up like bile. The sound is swallowed by the sea.
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bluegalaxygirl · 6 months
Text
Loyalty Test (Zolu X reader)
I got a request for this and thought i might have a go, i'v changed it up a bit so i hope thats ok. Zoro X Luffy X Reader, Poly relationship, established relationship, reader is GN.
Plot: Your sister isn't convinced that Zoro and Luffy wont be loyal to you so sets them up to be flirted with while she makes you watch form a back room.
Warning: Bad language, suggestive content and angst.
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The bar your sister runs is jam packed with people and the straw hat crew all having fun with Music, dancing, drinking and food. It's the first time your sister has met your boyfriends and your crew, but she seemed happy for you, oh how wrong you were. "This is so good" Luffy smiles digging onto the massive plate of food in the middle of the round table your sitting at, at the moment it was just Luffy, you Zoro, Chopper and Usopp either drinking or eating while the others were off doing other things. "Hay don't hog it all" Usopp yells at the Captain who just ignores him and keeps eating making you laugh a little leaning closer into Zoro who has his arm around your shoulders while drinking a big mug of beer "You know how Luffy is Usopp, there's no stopping him" You chime in earning a big grin from the Captain before he offers you some meat he just took a bite out of "You should try it, it's so good... not as good as Sanji's cooking though" The Captain laughs watching as you lean forward and take a bit ripping the meat off the bone with ease and enjoying the flavor "Wow that is good" Your comment was interrupted by Luffy's lips on the corner of your mouth lightly licking to get the left over meat off your face before pulling away. Heat raises too your cheeks only to hear Zoro laugh behind you "After all this time you still get flustered" The swordsman pulls you back into him his chest against your back as he lays his head on your shoulder only for you to pout in response.
Your sister has been watching form the side lines waiting for the perfect moment to drag you away, she loves you with all her heart, but she's not convinced the two pirates will be loyal to you or each other, so she set up snail cameras and audio to capture what she has set up for the two boys. The moment came perfectly, Zoro was done with his drink, and she knew he would get up in a few minutes to get another, so she head over placing a hand on your shoulder with a smile "Hay sorry to interrupt but i was hoping to have your help in the back" Looking up at your sister you nod going to stand only for Zoro to keep hold of you "Zo, please let go" You sigh turning to face the man "Don't i get a goodbye kiss?" He asks, his cheeks slightly red form all the drinking "I'll only be gone for a few minutes... but ok" You playfully roll your eyes before leaning in cupping his cheeks and placing your lips on his, it was short but it seemed to satisfy him letting you go so you can finally stand "What about me?" Luffy wipes his mouth of food looking up at you with pout "Of course my Captain" You bend down placing your lips on his feeling him lean into it while his hand rubs your hip lightly. After pulling away your sister grabs your arm and pulls you along to the back room behind the bar "So what do you need help with?" you ask but get no response until your in the back room and the door is closed.
Confused you look around the back room full of stock items along with stacked spare tables and chairs but what really caught your eye was a screen with two chairs in front along with a Snail projector in the middle "I know your going to be mad but i set up a loyalty test" Your eyes widen as you turn to face your sister who locks the door before walking over to you "I don't want you getting hurt and i don't trust them" Your shock turns into anger but you grit your teeth not wanting to yell "What the Hell? They wouldn't cheat and this is so stupid" You go to walk away, but she grabs your arm and pulls you over to the chairs "Please just sit and watch, you could be right but you also could be wrong, plus i won't get the money back" Sitting down you glare at your sister now even madder that she spent money on this but before you can say anything else she turns on the projector showing two different cameras, one facing the bar and one facing the table you were just at. "The hell sis?" you didn't know what else to say, all of this seemed so unreal. "I got two different people, a boy and a girl, they'll both approach the two when there alone, and we'll see what happens. so please just stay and watch" Your sister explains grabbing your hand to stop you form getting up and leaving "Fine, I'll stay but only to prove you wrong".
Zoro stands up from the tables and pats his Captains head before leaving "I'm gonna get another drink" the green haired man calls out before heading to the bar and sitting on the Bar stool ordering another beer. High heals approach him from behind before taking the seat next to him, she's beautiful, long flowing hair, curvy waist and a tight red dress but Zoro's focus is on the Drink that just got passed to him. "I haven't seen you here before" Her voice was sweet along with her smile but the Swordsman only glanced at her before taking a gulp of his beer "I'm Emily" she holds her hand out for him to shack but Zoro just looks at her hand then to her not saying a word "I think i know you, Roronoa Zoro, the pirate hunter turned Pirate, very impressive, your more handsome than your wanted poster" She giggles pulling her hand away but leaning forward a bit showing a little more of her cleavage only for the Swordsman to look at the bar and take a drink "Your not a marine or a bounty hunter so what do you want?" Zoro finally speaks making the woman next to him giggle and run her fingers over his arm leaning closer to his ear "Your very attractive, i'm sure a man like you knows how to treat a girl" she whispers batting her eyelashes at him but the Swordsman stands looking down at her "I have two partners, I'm not interested" The girl stands stepping a little closer, her chest almost touching his "They don't have to know" She whispers but her flirtatious smile soon turns into shock when Zoro uses his thumb to slightly unsheathe one of his swords "I said, I'm not interested Lady... now back off" His words where like venom, getting the hint the lady gulps and steps back before walking away a look of fear in her eyes.
A small laugh leaves your lips as you sit with your arms crossed watching your sisters shocked face "Told you so... also i think your gonna have to pay for that girl therapy" Your sister turns to you with a slight glare, she really didn't expect the swordsman to pass up on that girl, but now it was Luffy's turn, and she had a feeling his naive attitude would get him to do something he shouldn't. Turning back to the screen a man walks up to Luffy with a plate of meat, Chopper and Usopp had just left to do something so right now the Captain was all alone with an empty plate in the middle while licking his lips. "Hay, you still hungry? We have left overs in the back and thought you might want it" The young man smiles, he was handsome with slicked back hair and a tight white shirt with black pants showing his abs and large biceps off "Hell yea" Luffy smile grabbing the plate of meat off the man who sits next to him. The man takes a piece of meat on a bone earning a confused look from the captain "Let me help you" The young man smiles holding the meat out to Luffy who goes to grab it only for it to be pulled away "I meant let me feed you, come on can't let a cutie like you get his hands dirty" The man flashes a flirtatious smile, Luffy stares at him for a minute before laughing and grabbing the meat off the man holding it in his hands "Your funny" The captain calms down enough to eat the meat pulling it off the bone and putting the now empty plate down. The young man stares in shock not able to comprehend what just happened but soon snaps out of it going back to being flirty.
"Impressive" The mans words gets Luffy's attention who looks over at him with a smile "Thank you" The man leans in closer placing his hand on Luffy's thigh "Maybe you could show me what else you can do with that mouth of yours? How about we get out of here... just the two of us" The man whispers never breaking eye contact with the Captain, things suddenly sink in for Luffy now realizing what is actually going on. With a smile Luffy removes the mans hand from his thigh and scoots away a little "Sorry but i have two partners." Luffy looks over at the Bar spotting Zoro right away but the man places his hand back on Luffy's thigh "He's not looking, he won't notice" The man leans closer but Luffy stands adjusting his hat keeping a smile on his face "Thanks for the food" The Captain simply says before walking off and over to Zoro hugging the swordsman form behind. Zoro jumps a little thinking the girls back but relaxes once he hears Luffy's laugh, the swordsman smiles and turns in his seat letting the Captain sit on his lap "That guys weird" Luffy sates making Zoro raise and eyebrow and look over at the table but no one is there "What guy? He bothering you?" The swordsman scowls turning to Luffy and putting a hand around his waist "He offered me food which was nice, but then he started flirting with me, even when i said no... but he's gone so don't worry" Luffy wraps his arms around Zoro's neck and leans in kissing the swordsman before placing his head on Zoro's shoulder.
That was the one of the many things you love about Luffy, he's open and honest, yes he can be childish and naive at times, but he's not stupid at all. "Happy now?" You ask looking over at your Sister who sighs "I'm sorry but let's wait... i want to see if things change when they swap" Your sister crosses her arms over her chest still not convinced making you groan and stand up only for her hand to grab your arm "I'm putting a stop to this, they won't cheat. Why are you so connived they will cheat?" finally snapping at your sister she takes a step back but forces herself to keep a tight hold on your arm "I don't want you to get hurt" Rolling your eyes at her you yank your arm away forcing her to let go "Bullshit, there's no way thats just it. No one goes to this length just because of that. Tell me" Your sister sits as you step closer towering over her "I don't trust them. Not only are you in a Open relationship but their pirates. Zoro's a chick magnet and probably has no idea when a girl is flirting with him and Luffy is naive he'd probably go off with someone without thinking twice. I wanted you to see it the way i do. Yes they said no this time but maybe Zoro doesn't like girls as much as he likes boys and Vise versa for Luffy." She rambles but soon stops herself seeing the hurt on your face.
Your voice is clam and clear as you talk even with the tears welling up in your eyes "First it's not a Open relationship, it's a poly relationship we love each other equity, and we all agreed to it. Second i'm a pirate too but i don't see why that has anything to do with this and Third... You've known them for a day, i've known them for years and i'm not going to let anyone treat them like this not even family" You wipe away a tear that falls before turning your back on her and walking to the door only stopping once you unlock it "I'm very disappointed in you" You give her one last look before leaving closing the door behind you and stepping out into the bar "We're leaving now" You state walking over to Zoro and Luffy who are still sitting at the bar "What's wrong?" Zoro asks looking you over before Luffy jumps off his lap and cups your face "Are you crying?" The captain asks only for you to move his hands off his face and start walking to the door "I said where leaving, come on" You call out pushing the doors open, the two boys look at each other before running after you. Walking down the street, the only light being the street lamps and the cold night air hitting your skin, everything made it hard for you to keep it together "Baby, hay stop" Zoro runs up to you and grabs your arms stopping in front of you now seeing the tears rolling down your cheeks "What's wrong? What happened?" Luffy asks wiping the tears off your cheeks "I just want to go back to the Sunny. please" You can't help the tears that fall "Come on" Zoro sighs wrapping his arm around your waist and walking back to the ship with Luffy holding your hand leading the way.
It took you a while to clam down, you felt so hurt by your sister but you were so proud of your boys for dealing with the situation. Sitting on your shared bed, Luffy held you close to his side, his arm around your shoulders with your head close to his neck while Zoro sat in front of the two of you. You told them everything even how proud you were of them but also how you felt guilty for letting it happen, you just wanted your sister to see what you see but having her still not convinced after everything she saw really hurt. "That bitch" Zoro growls his hand gripping the bed sheet as he looked down at his crossed legs, not only did she set them up, but she was going to do it again. "I'm sorry" You whisper but feel Luffy's lips press against your forehead "It's ok, you didn't set it up and you proved her wrong. You know we would never do that to each other, i love you two so much" The wide smile on his face makes you smile back leaning up to kiss his cheek "I know you two would never do that but i'm still sorry i let it happen" Zoro leans forward and runs his hand up and down your leg getting you to look at him "It's fine, it's her loss anyway, not only did she waste money on this, but she also hurt you." The swordsman moves closer taking your hand with a serious look "Can i be honest babe?" You nod even though there's now a deep pit in your stomach. Luffy raises an eyebrow at the swordsman not knowing what could be so serious "I think she wanted us to cheat... I think she wanted to be right. I could be wrong but iv seen the way she looks at us three, you may not see it because she's your sister but i see jealousy and anger."
It hurts to hear it but Zoro's very observant and wouldn't lie to hurt you, he's not that kind of man "You think she wanted us to break up?" Luffy asks trying to think back to this morning when they first met your sister, she seemed so nice. "I-I don't think" you try to say but a part of you knows he's right, maybe she was jealous, but she's your sister and you love her, you would never do this to her so why would she do it to you. "Sorry, i know it's not something you want to hear but its just my opinion, it doesn't mean its true" Zoro states seeing your conflicting emotions, he leans in and places a light kiss on the side of your lips seeming to bring you out of your own head "I love you two" You smile looking at the two boys just feeling the need to say those simple words but it makes Luffy smile wide leaning down and crashing his lips onto yours. Wrapping your arms around his neck you lean into it more feeling his arm go around your waist as the other pulls Zoro in who lets a small smile show as you two pull away "I love you guy too" The captain leans over kissing Zoro on the lips who gladly returns it, running his hand through Luffy's black hair and under his straw hat. Luffy soon pulls away licking his lips "You taste of beer" The Captain laughs earning a snicker off the Swordsman "Yea well you taste of meat.... I love it though" Zoro shoots back before turning to you placing his hand on your cheek "I love both of you" The swordsman leans over but your quicker crashing your lips onto his running a hand through his green hair as your lips move with his.
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velvet-paradox · 8 months
Text
Ache
Fandom: Call of Duty Pairing: König x Female reader Summary: You get a concussion and poor König is beside himself and the 141 are trying their best to get you to remember. Length: LONG; I am so NOT sorry btw ;) Warnings: NSFW 18 + ONLY, strong language, explicit content, reader has a little freak out, flashbacks, sad boy König, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, detailed smut. Tagging: @synnersaint @isikforyourthoughts @stuckimaginationuniverse @howaboutlunch @pookie90 @undeadfreak47 @pokerfaceftw @dracofxckingluciusmalfoy @panty-h03 @0151imagayone
p.s. I used Google translate for the words below Bis später = see you later Bitte = please Verdammte Scheiße = holy shit
ENJOY!!!
König is worried. Fidgeting in this sterile room, everything is so white and so clean, not a speck of dust on any surface, tidy desks and stiff furniture that begs to be sat on or it'll turn into stone. He paced the room, heavy boots pounding mopped up linoleum.
His gear is still stained, hadn't bothered to wash off the combat. There wasn't any time. He had to get that EVAC out to your location as soon as possible, he'd have to apologize to driver when he found him. He was in a rush and overwhelmed with panic, he didn't truly mean to knock the woman down trying to get you into the back of the van.
But you were in danger, hurt, unconscious.
Those sorry motherfuckers had harmed his precious girl, the only one to make him smile, to make him genuinely laugh. You took him as is, all broken pieces and shattered dreams. You'd fight his demons if you could, you told him so night after night, stroking his head against your chest or stomach.
You were his grounding point. The calm to his storm.
Therefor he couldn't risk you being in this state, a flashbang had knocked you all to the ground, deafening ringing, chaos and bloodshed soon to follow. König didn't realize until the damage was done and the smoke had cleared that you were crumpled against the South wall, completely out with a trickle of blood leaking from your ear.
He made some sort of animal-like sound, it didn't even register that he'd never made that sort of noise before until he reached you, crushing and grabbing your vest to sit you up. Your head was limp like a cloth doll, König was graceful in holding you steady, checking your vitals and manually opening your eyes.
"Come in Actual! I need an EVAC immediately!"
You looked so small in that hospital bed, fragile. Foreign.
He knew you as a hellcat, fiery and hot to the touch. Ready to fight or fuck at any given chance. This version of you made him nervous. Scared him. And Colonel König does not get scared.
He checked his watch again, the rhythm of the monitors you were hooked up to only agitated him further, so that meant more pacing, more worrying his bottom lip that tasted of blood. Skin chewed up raw.
König leaned on the end of your bed making it creak under his weight. He could punch through a wall right about now, gnaw on the fucking plaster, rip off door jams and spit out nuts and bolts. Under his watch this had happened and he would never forgive himself. His eyes watered briefly before he pushed off the bedframe, your head wrapped gauze, shrapnel had made little scratches across your forehead and cheek.
Please be okay my darling girl… I can't much anymore…
König stirred awake, he'd picked up and moved the heavy chair from the window to your bedside, crossing his arms and resting his cheek on them as he watched you sleep. Your steady breathing had matched the heart monitor, smooth and calm and that's what had lulled him to sleep.
His back would fucking kill later but he wasn't too bothered. He'd do anything for you.
You made a weird face and groaned, shifting your shoulders before blinking yourself awake.
König's tank had never been so full with relief. He straightened himself up, touching your hand without the IV in it. "Oh thank God mein liebe; I was so worried. How are you feeling?"
His eyes danced over your face as you wet your lips.
"Like shit. Did I get hit by a fucking truck or what?" Your voice cracked and König was quick to jump up and fill a paper cup that was childlike in his shaking hands. He helped you to take small sips.
"Something like that. Unpredictable flashbangs with do that. Lucky we got out when we did."
"What?" You blinked up at him.
"Flashbangs. You know. Poof!" König made an explosion gesture by his helmet. "Nasty things. Effective, but still very nasty."
"I don't know what that is," you paused then and looked around the room with open eyes, clarity slipping through the cracks as you gripped the cup, brows furrowed. "I don't-- where am I? What am I doing here?"
König touched the top of your bed, concern in his emerald eyes. "My darling Ferret, you were injured in combat. Nothing broken but you were knocked unconcsous, we brought you in as soon as possible. Are you--," König didn't want to hear your answer but he didn't like to mess around the bush. Best to rip off the band-aid. "Do you know me? Do you not recognize me?"
You swallowed as your eyes grew glassy. You shook your head.
"Should I?"
His heart broke.
"It's me. My name is König , I am your commanding officer. You and the boys are-"
"Boys? I have boys? Am I mother?! Whose mother am I?" You screeched and spilled what was left of your water as you tossed off your sheet and began inspecting your stomach.
"No no. Calm down Ferret, you are no ones mother. Yet. I meant the boys of the 141, our company, Captain Price, L.T., Gaz, MacTavish… any o' them ring a bell?"
"No. Oh my God… who am I? König who am I?"
You really started to panic then, crying and kicking off the rest of your blankets, your heartrate was increasing alarming fast. König tried to shush you, calm you down, but it was no use, you just freaked out even more. You gained the attention of the nurses who came bursting into the room, pushing him out of the way as you screamed and tried to pull out the iv.
Chaos. König didn't know what to do and it was all a blur until one of the nurses in burgandy scrubs had grabbed his tac vest, forecefully and dragged him to the door.
"Colonel! Sir! We've got this, you need to leave."
Your shouts of protest were terrifying as you writhed on the bed in confusion and pain. There were too many of them, like ants swarming a downed enemy.
"Sir! Please, she'll be fine. I need you out. Now," König only frowned but took the steps necessary. "Do it for her."
The door slammed shut in his face then and all he could do was stand there and watch the blinds be slid down.
….
König growled and cursed something fierce all the way back to his dorm room, boots heavy and reminding him that much more that he would be going to bed alone tonight. With a huff he kicked his door closed, stripped off his helmet and hood. Piece by piece, he tore his gear angrily off, missing the laundry basket altogether.
His bed protested his weight as he rubbed at his face, aware that his gloves smeared what was left of his grease paint and gun residue. He hung his head, tapping his boots when he steepled his fingers beneath his chin.
He squinted down and grabbed a foreign object just by the end of his bed. Little by little, maroon in color lace looked so small in his hands.
It was one of your fancy bras.
König chuckled at the sight of it, a little light in his pitch dark tunnel. Without shame and without guilt, he fisted the light material before shoving it to his nose. It still smelled like you after several weeks and he closed his eyes.
"Bis später!" Had come from his mouth, waving off Ghost and Sergeant McTavish. He was grateful to be in his space, with his things, able to recharge after spending damn near all of his energy bank. If he were part machine, which sometimes he felt that way with how hard and focused he worked; there would be a flashing LOW BATTERY sign on his forehead.
He sighed against the door frame, barely ducking underneath it when he looked up at some sudden movement. He balked. You, you slinky attractive little devil had slipped past the guards, slunk into his room and into his bed. Growing voices made the big man struggle to get his whole body inside to block out your own, slamming the door behind him. Gloved hands still on the knob.
"Verdammte Scheiße! What are you doing here?"
"Waiting for you, what does it look like?" You shrugged as carelessly as you pleased. As drained as he was, he always had enough energy for your antics. A bare arm patted the bed next to you, a coy little smile on your face.
"I thought we've talked about this, no? We need to be careful about us." König said as he sat down, taking his gloves off and setting them on the floor by his nightstand.
"I'm tired of being careful, aren't you?" You grabbed his warm fingers, looking up at him.
"Yes but--"
"But what? Whose gonna' stop you? The big bad ex-KorTac boogeyman with the pretty eyes and enough documented kills to make any Narco envious and not to mention that big ol' hog--"
"Shut your face, right now!" König clamped a hand over your mouth, even though he was smiling behind his mask, bashful but a little boosted by your vulgar description. He didn't need to give the base anymore to talk about.
Your wet tongue startled his palm as you laughed, music to his ears as leaned his body against you.
"Oh come on, I'm surprised it even fits. Damn thing is the size of my arm!"
"It is not, stop that." König scolded you, a failed attempt to keep you quiet even though he was enjoying your praise.
"Oh yes it is!" You chuckled and pressed your sheet covered chest against his arm. "You should probably get a weapons clearance slip for that thing!"
"That's it!" König tackled you on the bed, his gear shifting with his weight, pinning you down. You wiggled and laughed beneath him, he silently asked how'd he get to be the one on top of you, making you laugh, smile. Men like him didn't get pretty things like you. He suspected and believed his old KorTac buddies that he'd end up settling for what he thought he deserved. Pocket lint and a sex doll. Not at all the real body of yours, looking at him like he hung the fucking moon and if he you would only keep looking at him like this, make him feel like he swallowed bees, calmed the anger and wolfish tendencies; he just might try it.
König sat back on his haunches. "How long have you been waiting for me?"
His heart stopped with your cheeky answer. "My whole damn life."
….
He dreamt of you that night. Surprised even to himself that he could calm himself down, even after a long and hot shower. He was exhausted. Scrubbing that same dirt and grime, that filth off his skin that stained your own. Maybe it was the emotions of it all, everything cresting, crumbling like bricks in his hands as you couldn't even remember him.
Maybe that's why he cried.
And maybe that's why he slept so good.
He tucked your bra underneath his pillow before he left his room the next morning, safe keeping and all that. He gave the neatly made bed a gentle pat before catching a ride with some very green, very eager-to-please rookies on a golf cart to the hospital.
"Colonel!" He stopped at the distinct voice of Captain Price, he could practically feel the mans' boots on the definitely needed to be replaced tiles beneath his own feet. "Colonel, I'm glad I caught you, old man-"
"I am not old," König squinted at Price's crinkled eyes, lost in a teasing smile. "In fact, you're older by four years, fifteen days and seven hours."
"How do you know that?" John Price paused.
"I read your file." König shrugged. He had a photographic memory, could remember coordinates from a stint in Kosovo, the delicatessen's not far from Vatican City, the look on your face after your first kiss, what color your toenails were that summer on the West Coast with the rest of the 141.
"Very well, lad. I uh just spoke with Y/N's doctors, she's been sedated, had a bit of a rough night last night, so they said. She's awake but nothing seems to spark her memory just yet."
König bit at his lips, he should've been there with you. The thought of you being alone and afraid, scared to death of all those around you being pumped through with who knows what.
"She'll come back to us big man," Price's hand on his arm was warm and the little squeeze he gave him felt genuine. "I know you two are close; just how close I haven't determined but I assume it's a heartfelt one. One that maybe goes a little more than the base and ranks."
"That's none of your business, Captain." König ground his teeth.
"You're right but I should let you know there's a little bet and a rumor going on that it's beyond professional," König straightened his back at that, shifting his weight. "Don't shoot the messanger, but the pot has gotten pretty full and I like winning."
Price chuckled as he walked away, leaving König to think more than just about you.
Your room is quiet expect for the whirling machine hooked up to your hand, your breathing is smooth when he enters, the steady beat of your heartbeat. He knew you were beloved on base and by all the bouquets of flowers, balloons and 'GET WELL SOON FERRET!' cards that surrounded your bed and side tables, he once again felt lucky to even breathe the same air as you, let alone become bedfellows and lovers.
He felt bad he came empty handed.
Until you rolled your head over to see him, a piss-poor attempt to make himself small.
"It's you." Your voice was a little scratchy and he'd hoped it was from a little nap and not from screaming in the middle of the night.
"Hallo mein-- I mean Y/N," your given name sounded strange in his mouth when he cleared his throat and crept a little more into the room. Your eyes never left him. "How are you feeling now? I talked with Price in the hallway."
"It's strange, I know you said the other day that we know each other and when I'm looking at you, like this, I feel like I should," you worried your bottom lip between your teeth, gears working against you as you laid there, eventually staring up at the ceiling. "I feel like I should know who I am and I don't. I should know you, apparently, but I don't. I don't remember anything!" you whined and palmed your glassy eyes, sniffling and huffing and all König could do was worry and reach out to touch your shoulder. "What if I never do? What if I become somebody else?"
"Don't do that, bitte. Please my dear," his gloved hand grasped your wrist and you let him, let him pull down your hands, locking eyes.
"You're taking a page out of my book and you're going to worry yourself sick. You'll come back to us." To me.
He wished and prayed that you would as he stayed with you for a little over an hour before you grew tired and again on his way to the mess hall and once more before bed.
….
"If you get hurt jus' remember lass, this was yer idea to begin wit'!" Johnny said with a grin, wobbling quite a bit on König's shoulders as he reached out to grapple with your hands.
"You know you're a lot heavier than you look." König grumbled through straight teeth, holding on to the Scotsman's' hefty thighs.
The sun was high that day on the Coast, a well needed and earned r&r retreat for the 141.
"Don't tell me you're backing out already, Johnny!" You teased, fitting your fingers through his as you moved on Simon's shoulders in the water opposite of them.
You looked incredible, wet and sandy, smiling as if you didn't just have someone else's blood on your hands three days prior somewhere in Bolivia. You two hadn't even kissed yet, just a lot of sexual tension and flirty exchanges when no one was looking or listening.
"I'm just lettin' you know wee one, I'm not above playing unfairly now."
"We'll see about that, you ready down there L.T.?"
"Ready when you are, kid."
Game on.
The guys joked about never hearing König laugh before, after your successful best two out of three chicken matches in the ocean. He felt insecure about it, covering his already covered mouth from his hood. Ghost and Johnny drank back to back beers while you saddled up next to him with a turkey sandwich and some fruit.
"I like it."
König looked over at you, sitting extra close in the sand as you dug your feet into the sand, a complimentary red on your toes as they swiftly disappeared and you ate a berry.
"Pardon?"
"Your laugh," you said inching closer so your leg touched his. "I like it. You should do it more often."
König scoffed and stole a grape from your plate, tossing it up in the air. "Say something funny then."
"I wanna' kiss you right now."
He choked on his spit and laughed again, to get König off guard was no easy task and yet you were flying through in fucking technicolor.
"Now that is funny."
"Who said I'm joking?"
As you watched your L.T. and Johnny pack up their truck, you had made sure to wave them off and as they turned out of the parking lot, with that same hand you grabbed the front of König's shirt, leaned up as far as those cute toes of yours could tip-toe and kissed him right on the mouth.
….
" 'ow about this one, we're just outside the Museum of Antioquia in Medellín, does this look familiar at all, kid? Anything abou' it? Anything at all?"
"I mean… that's obviously us. It's pretty foggy still honestly… so no."
"Alright no worries, love. How about this one? The Courtauld Gallery, we just had to go according to you to see your favorite painting."
"Am I an art major or something?"
"No. You just appreciate fine works of art I suppose."
König didn't mean to instantly get hard at Ghost's choice of words. He turned his back to you and your visitors, walking, uncomfortably so, towards the window with his hands behind his back.
You had said those same words to him once.
You two had gotten caught in an ice storm and not just any ice storm either, the kind where wherever you're at… that's where you're going be for the foreseeable future. Luckily for the both of you, the safe house had been recently restocked and insulated, thick plastic on the windows ruffled and protested the pounding wind outside. The freezing cold had slithered its icy tentacles through the cracks around the door making the fire you'd built in the little stove flutter and crack.
You only wore your underclothes, tight black thermals under your gear, frost and snow melting off your boots side by side by the front door. You crouched and added a few logs, eyeing him as he came into the living room with two mugs of tea.
He thought you were excited about the warmth from the cups but you had something a lot hotter in mind.
Thermals littered the floor, your whines and cries for more sang beautifully with the crackling fire nearby. You didn't even make it to the bed.
"Oh God König!" you panted against his shoulder as he rutted against you on the floor, creaking under his heavy weight. His cock fit perfectly once he'd gotten you off on his fingers first, it was proper to make you cum first.
He might be a little ruthless and rough around the edges but the man has manners! He rolled his eyes in pure delight when you arched up into his chest, nipples hard and legs trembling, spread enough to fit his frame between them. "You feel so fucking good. I knew you would-- aha just like that baby, fuck!"
Your head thunked against the floor, König was quick to fit one of his hands beneath it, in case it happened again. He had secretly wished it would, if only he could last a little bit longer. Your wet, gummy walls fought and milked his cock like no other, bringing him back in with a soft hug.
"Yeah? You like that huh? I'm practically devouring you, molding you to-o me." König grunted and groaned something in his native tongue before taking a bite out of your neck, loving it as you grabbed at his arms, his shoulders, his thrusting hips when he soothed it over with his gentler kisses.
"I want it. I want you so bad," he shivered at your words, his cock throbbing and threatening to explode so soon. He couldn't help it! He'd been eager for months to just maybe get a smooch from you and yet here you both are, making love on the floor in some safehouse by a fire. "I can't believe you're inside me right now. Why did we wait so long? It's so fucking good."
You whined and moved your legs higher up his waist, your knees digging into his ribs. König grabbed your leg and brought it up further, changing the angle and hitting something deep, so so deep and primal that you literally shouted his name, eyes wild and mouth agape as if you couldn't believe it was real.
Your neck bent to look at where his cock was disappearing, in and out in great, thick thrusts. Words were lost on you as all that came out of your throat was gasps for breath.
"Guess you like that too, yes?"
"YES!"
König barely had time to chuckle at your shouts, begging for more and more, it was all so hot and erotic and when you came he growled your name. He pulled out just in time to cum along the inside of your thighs, tapping the crown of it into his spend, smearing it around.
"Oh baby… you are a fucking work of art."
….
"What about some fresh air, kid? Might do ya' some good, instead o' breathin' in all this medicinal shit." L.T.'s suggestion brought König back to the present, he made a face and adjusted himself before turning around.
Ghost gave him a shrug. It had been five days after all.
"Yeah. Why not? Can't hurt, right?" You agreed. "Will you come with me?"
"She's talkin' to you, big boy." Simon voiced, startling König into a different position.
"Me? You want me to--"
"Will you?"
Simon smiled and left you to get dressed for the outside world since the accident.
König made sure to cover your eyes once you walked out into the sun, you tucked yourself into his side automatically, mumbling that it was too damn bright. He chuckled and kept you close, an arm around your shoulders as you walked the grounds.
"Can I ask you something?" You were picking at your nail beds, a nasty habit you tried to break your Freshman year of college and miserably failed.
"Shoot."
"Are we like… together? Like a couple? Simon and some of the other guys' made it seem like we're close. Like-- really close. Is that like a rumor thing or should I know something that I don't?"
König stopped, his boots kicking up gravel. "It's complicated. I am your commanding officer. Your superior. That would be inappropriate."
"Is it inappropriate or true?" you asked, stuffing your hands into a well worn hoodie. "Or both?"
König sighed, moving closer to you when a group of four young recruits jogged by. "Both."
You pursed your lips and looked around the busy base. The group of recruits that had given him a ride to see you drove by quickly, giving you both a solid but quick salute while a Staff Sergeant barked orders a few yards away.
"Is it serious?"
König cleared his throat and crossed his arms nervously. "The short answer? Yes. The long answer… is also yes."
You smiled brightly and shielded your eyes once more from the sun and from looking up at him. He swore his eyes crossed with how cute you looked, making that squinty face. You seemed content with his answer and started walking again, asking where you two had met.
"Maybe you should ask Soap about all that. Sorry, I mean Sergeant McTavish. Johnny. He sorta' is the reason for us being, well for us being close." König suggested, moving the bottom of his hood out of the way of a thick spoonful of a Rocky Road milkshake just off base.
"Well I'm asking you." You pointed your own spoon at him, apologizing when a few pieces of chocolate flung onto his forearms across the table. "Sorry."
"No worries. I rather like chocolate." König smiled.
"Tell me. Please? It might trigger something useful." You began to pout and oh no you don't, don't you dare tremble that bottom lip of yours. Oh, he could just lunge across this comically small table, break the umbrella above your heads in half and grab you and just kiss you, tell you how much you mean to him, how this limbo bullshit was driving him crazy!
König wasn't a man known for flowery words, motivational speaking and the like but he knew you so it wasn't out of his comfort to explain in detail how you did in fact meet. He talked and talked, milkshakes long gone, fries gone cold but salvaged for a midnight snack.
Once back on base König stopped in the hallway that splits from rank when you grab his hand.
"Can I come with you?"
"Come with me where?"
You swallow and look around the unusually vacant split. "To your room. Maybe it'll help. I mean, if we're together," you hushed and got closer to his side. "Maybe it'll help."
König smiled beneath his hood, wolfish and he knew how sharp his teeth were against the plump flesh of his bottom lip. "Sure. Come on."
….
"These are little… explicit." You chuckle while fidgeting with an old digital camera in his arsenal. The SD card is almost full, he knows this but he can't risk transferring them to another device. He'd stain his career if he got his tablets mixed up and not so safe or savory pictures of you and him together, were to make the rounds. The last thing this place needs is a scandal.
You tilted your head at one, zooming in and then thrusted it at his chest. "This is… are those… zip ties?"
König took the camera and knew exactly which picture you'd landed on. His mouth watered at the memory.
"Ah yes. This is the night you broke me."
"What does that mean?" You asked and sat down next to him on the bed.
A funny little jolt surged through his belly, warming his cheeks and hands as you two looked at the digital screen.
"Um uh well, I was gone on a mission in Copenhagen, it was only supposed to be a two week set up and recon, I could do those in my sleep but there was some miscommunication on their end and long story short I was gone for almost a month," König explained, thoughtfully looking at himself on the screen. "I used the SAT phone to keep in touch. We'd been together a steady two months before deployment and I didn't get a chance to give you a proper goodbye. So I promised you could have me any way you wanted."
"And I wanted to restrain you?"
"You wanted control over the situation. Over me." And you did. "Wow. I didn't think I was the dominant type. Or that a guy like you would allow it."
König barked out laughing, almost dropping it, which would have been devastating, but he managed to fumble it onto the soft mattress below instead. "Oh mein cutie, you are a terror when you get into one of your moods. Trust me. And to be fair; you've done a lot worse."
König was pleased the security officers left him alone for the night, no more nightly checks and lights out for the older man. He'd paid his dues but sometimes some fresh faced recruit would want all their other supervisors to know they'd checked on everyone, including the Colonel himself and Captain Price just a few doors down.
You'd fallen asleep after going over a handful of more photos, some more tasteful then others. Some cute, your smiling face as he slept with his large, scarred back facing you. Candids of König cleaning one of his weapons, examining knives. Holding hands. Your head on his lap. You fast asleep in one of his ratty old shirts. Obscene ones of just how fucked out he made you, gaping and leaking his spend. A few with just his fingers saturated with his cum.
You looked so comfortable and cute all curled up on his covers, hands tucked under your head. He couldn't help himself and mimicked your position as best he could, wincing and apologizing in a low whisper that he was sorry he kicked your knee. You groaned in your sleep and patted his hand.
König didn't remember falling asleep but he was suddenly incredibly warm, hot even, sweating beneath his hood and t-shirt he shifted but felt he couldn't move. He blinked and caught you holding on to him, damn near piggy-backing him. You mumbled something against the back of his head, fingers twitching and grabbing at the thin fabric.
"…König."
He flinched at the way your voice said his name. Hushed and broken, his attempt to turn around and face you failed and you grabbed him tighter. He touched your hands on his arm.
"Y/N it's ok it's me."
"Oh no… where are you? I can't see-" You whined and jerked around behind him. If only you could hear him, see him, feel him try to calm you down from whatever it was you were dreaming out. König was used to fretting and getting himself all worked up into a lather, this time he did manage to roll over, getting up onto an elbow he held both of your hands in just one of his.
"My love, wake up. If you can hear me, wake up, you can wake up now."
Your face pinched and thrashed, your neck craning at a painful angle as if you were possessed until your eyebrows finally released, your fingers unballing and then you opened your eyes. One at a time. Blinking into the inky blackness of the room.
There was just enough light coming the sunlight above König's bed, the angle nice and gentle on your face. You finally looked at him.
He tried his best to soften his eyes, let you know you were safe and in good hands not in the arms of some stranger, which all of the base had been as of late. He let go of your hands when your jugular jerked.
"König."
"Are you okay now?"
"Where am I?" you asked and he cast down his eyes to the rising and falling of your chest. "Am I still dreaming?"
"No. You're awake now. You can pinch me if you'd like."
He waited for your answer before you reached up and cupped his face, touching the masks' edge, circling around one of the eye holes before tearing up. "I believe you, baby."
Oh. Oh. OH!
"Baby…"
You sniffled and König wanted to pinch himself, make sure he wasn't the one dreaming that you'd come back to him. "I missed you."
"Oh mein liebe, you have no idea how much I've missed you." König surged and gathered you up into his arms, hooking his whole arm between your legs to bring you as close to his chest as humanly possible. He smelled your hair, rubbed his clothed cheek against yours. His hands under your shirt.
"How long was I out?"
Your voice was so light and innocent, sitting on his bed with the covers around your shoulders. He'd fixed you some tea, not the exact way Simon had taught him but close enough.
"Almost a week."
You frowned again and König couldn't help but take your hands in his, assuring you it was alright, that you were in the clear and should definitely seek the med staffs' guidance.
"A week?! Oh my God. I've been banged before but not like that."
König attempted to stifle his laugh, chuckling harder after you whacked his arm. "Bitte bitte, I surrender."
"You better! I've been M.I.A. and you're making fun of me."
Your pouting face was so damn cute König moved in front of you after bouncing his thumb on your bottom lip, holding out his hand. "I'm not making fun of you honey, it's just the way you said it."
"Yeah yeah, wait 'til you get knocked the fuck out and we'll see whose making fun then, hmm?"
"You would make fun of me?"
"In a heartbeat." Your sneer and banter held no weight and the both of you knew that. You were back to your usual self, a little froggy sur but you knew who you were, who he was, where you were and what was going on.
The head nurse in the med bay was excited to see you up and walking around, coherent and well aware of what had happened. She checked your vitals, looked at your eyes, felt around your cranium for any undiscovered lumps or bruising from being knocked back against that cement wall.
You were cleared.
She sent you off with a note and a stern 'now get some rest!'. König bounced his legs while he waited next to you, recognizing that she was the same nurse who had tossed him out that first night. She winked at him before letting you both leave.
"God I have missed you mein cutie, my little precious thing." König sang into your neck once back in his quarters, he hadn't let his hand slip from your hip since leaving the nurses station. He held you hostage in his lap in his bed, petting your face and rubbing your arms.
"How much?"
"So so much," König cooed at you, shivering from your touch as your arms circled around his neck, you snuck your fingers beneath his hood, toying with the strands of hair you could tug on. "More than I crave a hunt, a kill. Man or beast. Nothing satisfies me more than you do, my love."
"I know I've been out of it but… does that mean--"
"Oh my dear thing. Bitte! You think my mind was elsewhere while you were coasting through life? Nein nein nein, I put my needs behind yours."
"You haven't… so you must be pretty bricked up then?"
König tilted his head at that. "Not you getting medically cleared and ready for a good fucking straight away."
"She said to get some good rest, did she not?" You bit your lip and twisted the hem of his mask. "What better way then to make sure I'm fully rested then that?"
"My love… don't poke the bear."
"Is the bear in hibernation?"
He chuckled at that, letting you lean forward, pressing your foreheads together, breathing each other in. "It's summer time my dear… the bears are out of hiding."
Your eyes burned into his, as coy and cool as you tried to play it, all your intentions were naked and clear. "Are you going to be my bear tonight, König?"
….
Now usually when you were in one of these moods König wouldn't even bat an eyelash, click his teeth or spit at the thought of tossing you around, fisting your hair and making you squeal. In turn you'd leave marks and brusies only he knew were there, hidden beneath his gear. But this was different. You were in a delicate state, though medically cleared he wasn't about to go about fucking you senseless.
No. You needed to be handled gently.
So that's what he did.
Shimmying out of his clothes while you did the same, reaching out for him he went down easily, caging you in. You hummed and lifted the base of his mask, hiding beneath it with him, stealing a few chaste kisses before slipping your tongue into his mouth. König groaned and crushed his body into yours.
"Missed you so much, my love." König straightened up on his arms, looking down at you with heart eyes.
"Show me. Show me how much you missed me, baby. Bears give hugs, don't they?"
König chuckled, his hood swaying with puffs of his laughter. "My little play thing, bitte. Please. I am not a bear."
"Sure you are big guy," you cooed and moved to grab one of his hands, ghosting it over your collar, on the ball of your shoulder, settling it palm side down on your chest. "You're my big bear, aren't you?"
Oh hell… he couldn't say no to that face. With a huff he gave in, he'll admit it later that is did warm his heart that you thought of him that way. A protector. A caregiver. He'd been chosen to take care of you and König didn't agree with failure.
After a few more kisses he rolled away from you, shushing you when you whined with the loss of his body heat and weight. He curled himself behind you, easily hefting you up and over so your back was to his front, being very careful of his genitals. He calculated how far apart your legs should be, fitting them over his thick thighs like butterfly wings, making you jerk at the cool air hitting your wet cunt.
König carefully began to grope over your body, humming with delight when your hips wiggled, your toes digging into the sheets, your hands barely holding onto your tits. He teased you first, getting you warmed up, snickering as your breathing became labored, looking down your body as he played you like a professional musician.
"Please baby, please finger me already," you keened and gasped when he cupped your entire mound, feeling it pulse against his fingers. "I need to feel you."
"Ah ah ah. Already begging, what a needy little thing you are my love. Are my hands on you not enough?" König taunted, moving both of his hands to spread you open. You inhaled sharply, both of you watching as his fingers inched closer and closer to your clit.
"O-o f course but-- oh!"
He switched his tactics and instantly shoved his middle finger inside you, knuckle deep.
"Aww poor thing is fucking tight. Almost like the first time, ja? Been without for a week and already so slick," König peered over your shoulder, throbbing when he saw how hard you grabbed at your chest, playing with your nipples at his advancement. "You're so perfect."
"I'm so empty, please König, mein König."
"Empty you say? One finger is not enough for you? Nein nein you can handle another finger perhaps, maybe… three?"
You rolled your head to the side, looking back at him, an almost pained expression on your beautiful face. "Bitte."
"Oh fuck." Not you speaking his language.
You didn't make a sound when another finger plunged deep into your hole, holding himself back from just outright making a sloppy mess of your pussy, soak his fingers down to the fucking wrist. No no, he was going to treat you with kid gloves. Delicate work. He pulled them out to the second knuckle before twisting them back in, stretching you out.
Only then did you crack and keen, bucking your hips to take them in even deeper, finding that precious little spongy spot that drove you wild.
"Oh fuck yeah."
"That's what my little cub needed, ja? Should I go faster, hmmm? Get you all nice and wet to take my cock."
"Yeah yeah yeah," you nodded franticly, still squeezing and pinching yourself while he finger fucked you. "Get me wet baby, make me cum. Wanna' cum for you."
"You always wanna' cum for me. Wait until the rest of that pretty little head of yours comes all the way back, oh my love, the things you're going to remember, one should be so jealous. But I am afraid mein liebeling you will not be drenching my fingers tonight. Oh no."
"But I--"
"Tut tut little thing, you'll get to cum. That is a promise. But you will be coming on my cock instead, now roll over, ja like that, there we go. Look at you, I didn't have to explain what I meant. See, that memory of yours is coming back faster than we thought!"
König spooned you, cuddling you from behind and lifting your top leg up and over his hip while he told you to stay still, hold tight, to listen to him as he began guiding and sliding the already pre-cum slick crown of his cock between the apex of your thighs, against your sex, popping and nudging up against your swollen bundle of nerves.
You begged. Oh did you beg, he'd barely pushed it in when your arm came flying back, grabbing the back of his head, molding it to the back of your neck. When you pushed back on him König had to shut his eyes, lost in the feeling of sinking into you again. Grateful. Thankful. Pleasure bloomed as your pussy did around his thick cock.
"You're so precious like this, little thing. Mein cutie, mein sweeetness." König cupped your jaw and had you look back at him, dancing his hips into your rear, splitting you open just a little more. You hiccupped a gasp, locking eyes as you moved together as one.
"I needed this, oh shit did I need this. Several days without you was fucking torture verdammt, squeeze down like that again, fucks sake." "Is my big bear getting close?" You joked, your giggles turning into moans and curses as you gripped the back of his hood even tighter.
"Is that what you want? Want me to cum inside you, fill up your little hole?"
"Yes."
"Oh! What a filthy little thing you are, wishing to be filled up. You know my love," König slapped your outer thigh before gripping it tightly, your skin sagging with the weight they held and brought you even closer, his trimmed short and curlys getting wetter by the minute stuck to your rear. "You keep begging for it I just might have to hold you down and breed you. How about that, hmm?"
The noise you made made him whine against your neck.
"Goodness! Is that what you want?"
It took a minute for your voice to catch up to your nodding head, swallowing thickly. "Yes! Oh my God that's so fucking hot."
"You like that idea?"
You bit your lip and smiled so innocently.
You were so pretty all he could think about was breaking you in half. For a man of König's size and weight, he's very nimble and can move faster than you can think. He had you on your front in a few seconds, hoisting up your hips, dragging you back just enough. "If that's what you want… tap me if it is too much, my love. Promise me."
"Yes."
He slapped your ass. "That's not what I said."
"Yes! Yes I promise."
König smiled when you moved your head and hair to the side, then gave him a thumbs up.
Any position he was in with you felt incredible, the sounds you made, the obscenities' you called out, the grunts and tangled English weaved with German on his end were perfect. But there was something about fucking you like this he couldn't handle, he knew he had five, maybe six minutes tops before he'd lose his shit and bust his load.
You were practically sobbing at the pace, a literal face down ass up situation as you couldn't hold your body up any longer. The hard slap of skin on skin, you were panting and gripping the sheets in your hands König thought for a moment you might just tear the damn thing in half. When you turned to look at him over your shoulder he damn near came right then. Eyes glassy, eyelashes wet and clumped together, lips pouty and full.
Of course you had to bit your bottom lip at him looking like a holy hell mess.
König shook his head and swore in German, lurching over your back, his sweat keeping him glued to you as he lifted his hood and sloppily kissed you. You cried out when he did, wailing that you were close, that you going to cum. König clumsily reached below you and started rubbing your clit.
"Faster faster, fuck that's it. Oh my… König. Mein König!" Your body dropped as you came, pulsing your gummy walls around him, he was pretty much using you as fleshlight at that point. Your body loose and limber, pliant and soft in the best way possible.
"That's it baby, are you gonna' cum inside me? Don't waste it." You drunkenly laughed, pushing back when you got your voice back.
"Oh I'm not wasting a damn thing, my love." König pulled you back once more, angling himself with one foot on the bed, fucking into you deeper. You were lucky he was still being careful because the intrusive thought of really giving it to you, harshly, harder and pushing your face into the bed was not an option. Not this time anyway. "You're gonna' be a good girl and take what I give you, ja? You want my load so badly, so fucking badly don't you? We're not wasting a drop, anything-- fuck you're so wet baby… anything leaking is going right back in. Understand?"
"Yes! I want it I want all of it. Don't take it out don't take it out." You whined and without him even asking, your had crossed your wrists behind you back, giving up control, submitting.
König wasn't lying.
He did in fact spill inside you, throbbing rope after rope into your cunt. König hung his head, panting, counting his heartbeat before he eased his way out of your hole. Mesmerized by the sight of a glob or two dripping out he slowly and very, oh so carefully guided back into you. You squirmed, sore for sure as he looked you over.
"Are you alright, my love?"
The thumbs up you gave him was all the assurance he needed. He chuckled lowly, the ache he felt for you, warmed him through as he smoothed a hand down your back.
209 notes · View notes
danikamariewrites · 5 months
Note
Hi I just recently found your blog and can I just say I love your writing so much! I spent most of my day reading your fics.
I saw your combined aesthetics fic and it gave me this idea. I was wondering if you could do a ruhn x reader? With the reader secretly liking heavy metal and rock music but nodoby could tell because she was very shy and sweet? So then one day Ruhn finds out and is surprised and you could maybe go from there?
You don't have to do it it was just something I thought of and thought that you would be a the perfect person to write this.
I’m with the Band
Ruhn x reader
A/n: Thank you anon, you're so sweet! Thank you for reading, I loved writng this it was so cute
Warnings: none
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As you walk to Ruhn’s house from band practice you bop your head to the recording for the new song you rehearsed. Things were going great for you and the girls. You guys had never thought about actually doing gigs, it was just a silly thing Becca started in her garage. It’s been three years of you guys just jamming.
One night Becca’s neighbor knocked on the door. You thought he was going to yell for the music being too loud. It turned out the guy owns the White Raven and wanted to start doing live music on the weekends. The girls agreed and now Illogically Hotter is playing a second gig tomorrow night. You hadn’t told Ruhn yet. Not that you’re ashamed of your girls or your music, you’re just not ready for him to see you perform yet.
Stepping into the house you slip your headphone off your head resting them around your neck. Preparation for tonight’s party was in full swing. Dec was setting up the beer pong table while Tharion and Flynn brought kegs in from the kitchen.
Ruhn skids to a halt in front of you, sporting that wild boyish grin. “Hey baby,” he says happily pulling you into a loving hug. You hug him back tighter burying your face in his chest. “Hey Ru. Missed you.” Ruhn kisses your forehead with a loud smack. “I’m gunna go upstairs and get ready.” He nods at you as you take the stairs two at a time to his room.
Ripping off your sweaty shirt you let out a relived sigh. You went way too hard on the drums tonight. You pull out your oversized Banshee shirt that people always mistake as Ruhn’s along with your ripped jeans. Maybe you will tell Ruhn about your band tonight.
Ruhn plops down on the couch throwing his arm over your shoulder. He’s followed by Hunt, who looks as smug as your boyfriend, Ithan and Flynn who look defeated. Clearly sour at the fact they lost another round of beer pong.
Bryce giggles, “Aww sore losers again?” She teases. Flynn rolls his eyes at her. “You play them and see if you’re laughing after.”
A Banshee song comes on over the speakers. A rarity that the playlist strays from pop or house music unless you get your hands on whoever’s phone is in control. You start bopping your head and humming along, drumming your fingers on your thighs.
Flynn squints at you. “You like this song y/n?” You nod, “Yeah, I’m a big Banshee fan. I love rock, punk, heavy metal, all that stuff.” His jaw drops. You can feel everyone’s eyes on you and retreat into Rhun’s side praying his shadows could swallow you up. “What! I thought you were our resident pop princess.”
You shake your head, a small smile pulling at your lips. “Actually,” you drawl shyly looking up at Ruhn, “you know Becca, Laurel, and Vesper? We have a rock band.” It was Ruhn’s turn to be surprised. You saw hurt briefly flash in his eyes. He quickly recovered, shooting you that boyish grin. The group bombarded you with questions about what instrument you play, how long have you been in a band, and where you’re playing. Ruhn didn’t say a word the whole time. Your heart beat from the anxiety of the love of your life being mad at you.
Hours later you and Ruhn were getting ready for bed in uncomfortable silence. Climbing into bed you let out a sigh. It felt good to finally lay down. Ruhn turns on his side facing you. You try to ignore his gaze that’s burning a hole in the side of your head.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” The hurt in his voice made you wince. Turning to look at Ruhn your heart breaks at the frown on his lips, his usual brilliant blue eyes dim. You reach out to gently stroke his face. “I’m sorry.” You whisper. “I was going to but then I got nervous. Then my mind was telling me you wouldn’t like it, so I don’t know.”
“Baby how could I ever hate anything you do? You’re perfect to me.” You give him a small smile, cuddling into his side. “Thank you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Ruhn hugged you tighter to his chest rubbing your back. “It’s ok baby.”
The next morning you had made the stress inducing decision to invite Ruhn and your friends to see Ilogically Hotter at the White Raven. You spent the afternoon practicing with the girls trying not to worry about Ruhn watching you play drums and sing.
You did have to take a break at one point becuase of how stressed you got. Becca ran you to the bathroom because you thought you were going to vomit. After Becca calmed you down and got food in your stomach you felt better.
Laurel and Vesper were getting pumped when you finally came out of the empty back office the band uses as a dressing room. "Are you ready y/n!" "Yeah!" You shook out your arms then teh rest of your body to dispel your nerves. Taking a deep breath you decide to let go and pretend Ruhn and all your freinds are not in the audience watching you.
Vesper dragged you into the group huddle to do your little chant that she decided was now the pre-show ritual.
No turning back now.
Ruhn was picking at his fingers in anticipation. He decided it would be best to stay at a table on the edge of the crowd so you wouldn't be too nervous seeing him. But he was excited. The energy from the crowd wass electric.
He swore he heard a few people say that they came back to see you guys again. That made Ruhn smile. Gods how could you keep this from him?
Bryce grabbed at his fingers pressing them against the hardwood table. "Stop that." She said sternly, raising a brow at him. "Sorry, I'm just nervous."
"Don't be." Dec said plopping drinks down on the table. "They're going to be great. Y/n is going to be great. And no matter what you'll support her." Ruhn nodded at his friend as the spot lights started to strobe. The rest of the group huddled around the table taking a drink.
Ruhn didn't take his eyes off the stage for a second. He was too enamoured by you. How you whipped your hair around as you bounced around in your sweet. The prince even made sure to listen to your background vocals. It was rare that you sang in front of him so he was going to cherish this moment.
When the hour long set was done Ruhn raced to find you. He needed to tell you how amazing you were or he felt like he was going to explode.
You were happily screaming with the girls over another successful gig when you sensed Ruhn coming. You looked over your shoulder just in time to see him push the curtain back. You gave him a huge smile that he returned as you both ran at each other.
You launched yourself into his open arms and Ruhn spun you around. Putting you down he held your shoulders to jokingly shake you. "Wow, wow, wow! I didn't know you were so talented! All of you." You stare into his bright eyes, twinkling with happiness and admiration. "Really?" "Yes really!" He pulled you into another bone crushing hug leaving a kiss on your sweaty head.
For the first time in a long time you felt truly like yourself. The fact that Ruhn was not only embracing this side of you, but fully supporting you was more than you could ask for.
tags: @callmeblaire
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fictarian · 10 months
Note
Hobie w/ an equally as punk reader? <3 🤘🎸
𝐇𝐢𝐦 <𝟑 . ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ 𝐏𝐭. 𝟔
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ღ Of course! I apologize if there are issues with this fic, because i’m not very familiar with the style despite trying to learn about it 😭 Fun facts and criticism is VERY MUCH appreciated in the comments, so don’t be afraid to comment
ღ Gang we’re like 21 followers away from 100… i’m shivering in boots ‼️‼️ Tysm for following me omg
ღ Here’s a couple headcannons for if Hobie was with a punk partner (relationship goals, shout out to all my punk lovers I aspire to be like you)
ღ Paring: Hobie Brown and a GN! Punk reader 🙏
ღ Previous part can be found here !
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• Whenever the two of you go out together, you always make an effort to go to your local record store. It has become a tradition between you and Hobie to buy two records (preferably of a song that the other hasn’t listened to or knows about) each and gift them to the other at the end of the trip. This helps broaden your guys’ music taste, introduce each other to a new possible favorite band, and just be a bonding experience all together
“The Skids?” You question while looking down at the album in your hands, intrigued by the vibrant colors on the cover. Hobie only nods his head, looking down at the records you had gotten for him. “Mhm, one of my favorites. You’ll like it luv, I promise.”
• No matter what either of you say, you and Hobie are both history nerds. Especially about punk history. So there’s no doubt that whenever you both are on call or are just relaxing in your room in silence, one of you are bound to start a conversation with a history fact. And for the next couple of hours, you’ll both be ranting and exchanging facts to each other
• Since you guys have practically the same style, you often find yourself taking some of Hobie’s jackets, pins, jewelry, etc. Hobie doesn’t mind, in fact, it gets his heart racing whenever he sees you in something that belonged to him at one point (let’s be fr, he isn’t gonna get shit back). So don’t be surprised when you catch him leaning against the doorway to your room, watching you try on one of his leather jackets or ripped jeans with a small smirk and a blush coating his face 🤭
“Y’know, it’s rude to stare” “I just can’t ‘elp it luv, not when something so pretty is right ‘front of me” Hobie cooed, causing you to blush from the tone of his voice. “Whatever…”
• You’re Hobie’s #1 hype person during the concerts he participates in (he doesn’t like consistency, so obviously he switches it up a lot and plays with different bands). This makes him go absolutely WILD. Just seeing you go full on crazy and vibe to the song he’s playing makes him 🥺. Hobie makes it a requirement for you to go to every one of his gigs, which obviously, you don’t mind at all
• You always get a front row view during his concerts, no questions asked. While you’re jamming away to the song his band is performing, Hobie is staring directly at you (somehow managing to not mess up his playing). And when you notice this and finally meet his gaze, the bastard doesn’t even look the least bit shamed or embarrassed. He even sends you a wink, making you the embarrassed one instead
• Hobie dedicates songs to you. Hell, bro will full on WRITE songs for you. He just loves you so much, and wants to show you that in a form that you both bond over constantly every single day. And when Hobie does dedicate a song to you, he makes it very clear to the audience. This makes you want to stomp on him with your platform boots, but it also makes you want to pull him in by the collar of his shirt and kiss him all over his face
“This one is for my arsekicker, _____. Didn’t tell em I was gonna do this before ‘and, since they would ‘ave done just that.” Hobie announced, meeting your sharp glare with a wink and his usual smug smirk. You shook your head, feeling your face burn as the band started to play.
tag list ! @zalayni @luvstarrstruck @jrrantss @pixqlsin @kairiscorner @k4tsu3 @asmobeuses
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hellfire--cult · 11 months
Text
Baring Teeth {Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader} - Ch. 2
Tumblr media
Picture for Banner: pitifulbaby
Chapters: Masterlist (Go here to see list of chapters.)
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Non-Traditional Omegaverse, Slow burn, Modern!AU
Warnings: Ab*se, Violence, Mental Health, Cursing, Smut (mild), treat it as a normal Enemies 2 Lovers book, but the A/B/O dynamic will appear at some point.
Crossposted on: Wattpad & AO3
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Chapter 2
“Sweetheart, you don’t have to go…” Your mother protested, tears running down her face as she looked at how you were stuffing your suitcases. You sniffled, the tears running down your face, even after two months had gone by, after everything turned upside down in your life, in your perfectly organized life.
“I have to– I can’t– I can’t stay here. I can’t stay with these memories Ma. I can’t.” You sobbed as you put one of your shirts in your suitcase, followed by a stuffed bunny plushie from your childhood. You didn’t want to leave, you really didn’t, but what choice did you have? It is a small town, everyone knows everything about everyone, and you cannot stand being here another day longer.
“I know, I know, it was hard darling…” Your mother said as she sniffled again, covering her mouth to swallow her sobs and you simply shook your head in disbelief as you closed the suitcase.
“Hard doesn’t even begin to describe it… It doesn’t even compare.” You sat on the bed, your hands over your face to sob into them. The despair you felt inside, the loneliness of it all was ripping you from inside out. You were happy, two months ago, and now you cannot wait to move on, do a restart in your mind and body, forget about everything else, forget about Atlanta and the people in it.
Your mother, your sweet mother, sat next to you, putting a hand on your back, soothing you, or trying to. Your head found her shoulder easily, sobbing there as she held you close to her.
“We’ll always be here if you need us… We’re a call away, and some hours of driving. You don’t have to be afraid of anything my dove.” She caressed your head, gently, her own sobs filling the room, going in the same beat as yours.
—————————————————
You opened your eyes with a gasp, your breathing slightly heavy, as if panting and you felt moisture in your cheeks. You raised your hand up to rub onto your flesh, noticing you had cried in your sleep. Great. Fantastic.
It’s been a year, yet those memories keep coming into your mind. Memories that altered your way of living all together. Memories that hurt you in the deepest of your heart and soul, to the point that your way of being and your way of socializing changed thanks to them.
You got up from your queen sized bed, walking towards the bathroom that was right next to the bedroom. You have a nice, warm and cozy apartment, with one bedroom, a bathroom, and a living room, a kitchen in a separate room. Your job paid well, gladly, so you couldn’t complain about where you were living right now. You missed a house, of course, but at least you were alone with your thoughts here.
Although you didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.
You woke up before your alarm, noticing the sun coming up just now, so you took the chance to shower yourself, humming under the water to some Ed Sheeran. You grew to like him actually, which you didn’t before, not at all. When you first heard his music you found it cheesy, almost too corny for your taste.
Yet here you were, jamming to it months later.
You walked out of your long shower, wearing only your lilac robe around your body. You walked towards your living room, turning the tv on to see the news and figure what time it is.
6:20 AM.
Yep, too early. You looked at the small headline below the forecast one.
Female Betas protest over single motherhood and gay rights.
You sighed at it. You still don’t know why people say Beta nowadays. It’s just male and female, maybe something in between or someone who identifies as nothing at all, but there’s no need for the word Beta anymore. The last Alpha ever heard of was in 1932, and last Omega, 1940.
You wondered how a Female Alpha looked like. It sounds weird, but that’s what it was, a secondary gender. So apart from having a vagina, replacing the clitoris you would have found– You squirmed at the thought. Male Omegas had it the same. You remembered the anatomy book you found in a restricted section at the library of your school, and it showed the anatomy of the Male Omega. His sack was gone, and right below his penis, the slit would form, like a vagina.
You squirmed again. It sounds too surreal. Too much like a fictional book, but it did happen in real life, and it’s weird to even think it did. But, so many things happened in the world that are hard to believe, such as wars, starvation, communism, and so much more. Guess that part of life isn’t so weird if you think about it if you compare it to WWII.
Now, the title of the headline did get your attention. You sign too many contracts to do the fertility treatment, but sadly one of laws commands that it is illegal to start treatment without a spouse or a partner that will undergo the same treatment with you. There are so many single women that want kids without the need to get impregnated by a partner. There is adoption of course, but they think that by making the baby have two parents, the likelihood of it getting abandoned is lower, so adoption always takes a long while, even years.
And also, same sex couples cannot undergo the fertility treatment, because that would mean they would have to be inseminated or have a surrogate. You just thought it was simple homophobia at this point. The child would have two loving parents nonetheless.
You scoffed at the TV, turning it off, heading towards your room to get ready for the day. It’s Tuesday now, and you were wishing that it was the weekend already.
————————————————
“Okay, so maybe put the skirts of Balenciaga on Pages 23 to 25, so that it can jump right into the dresses.” You explained as you started putting the pictures and paragraphs over the lit up table below you, making it look like a page. You examined it once and nodded, liking the overall look of it, and turned to Robin, who was absent minded with her phone. “Robin, are you even listening to me?”
“Oh, shit, yeah sorry.” She put the phone away and looked at the work below her and nodded, grabbing a photo and switching it up with the one below. “There, if you put the green skirt at the top the page will look droopy since the red skirt is at the bottom.” You looked down at the work and nodded.
“Yeah. That does look better.” You looked at her as she started assigning the dress pictures for the next pages. “What’s got you so distracted, Buckley?” You asked with a smile to your face, knowing who she might have been talking to. She blushed immediately and turned to look at you.
“Am I too obvious?” She asked you and you finally let out a giggle, nodding, looking down to start arranging the paragraphs and pictures for the next pages. The magazines were solely for designers and famous people. This wasn’t out for the general public, because the public magazine is arranged by another team entirely. This is basically the catalog for rich people.
“Oh Robin, yes. You are a blushing mess when you look at your phone… I’m guessing Vickie is coming to visit?” You asked her with a wiggle of eyebrows and she nodded, biting her bottom lip.
“Yes, yes she is…” You smiled at your friend, happy for her really. Even if the girl that was coming over was just a friend, Robin has been crushing on her since high school or something. She always tells you that she will confess, that this time will be the one, but she never does. Hopefully your friend gets the courage she needs and goes for it. You have met Vickie, and everytime she’s over because of family business, she visits Robin, so you kind of know that there’s more than just a simple friendship there.
“She better leave town not single Buckley.” You smirk at her, making her throw a ball of paper at your head, a laugh escaping your lips at her flushness. You take out your own cell phone this time, Robin leaning over to look at your screen and groaning loudly when she sees you open up your Instagram chat with Jason Carver.
“You have to be shitting me.” She says out loud, making you look at her with a groan.
“It’s just a dick! It’s been a while…” You excuse yourself slightly and look down at your screen. “Plus, he looks buffed, and cute.” You say with a smile as you look at the time for your date. Friday at 7 PM. He is in town because one of his buddies has a birthday party in Indianapolis, so he was in the city for the week.
“If I even begin to tell you what he has done at school…” You rolled your eyes as you looked back up at Robin.
“That’s the past, this is the present. And the present tells me he is hot, he is built, and he looks like he can make me have a good time!”
“You’re going to regret it though.” Robin responded with a smirk and you squinted at her.
“You’re starting to sound like Munson.” She gave a throaty laugh at you and shook her head.
“For once, I agree with him, it’ll be a disappointment.”
“I bet he won’t.”
———————————————
It was.
It definitely was.
You were walking towards your car after going back to the motel room he got for the week, and you shifted in your legs for the orgasm you could not reach, because the fucker only knew how to shuffle your clit like an amateur dj.
And you cursed to the sky when he pulled his pants down and… Munson was right. He was small, not like a thumb, but smaller than the average. You faked most of your moans, faked an orgasm for the whole action of 7 minutes.
He was a nice dude, nothing like the bully they mentioned, but he was lacking so much in the physical department. Now, you would have to fake a smile, act like you had your shit rocked as you drove towards Robin and Steve’s shared small one story home. You weren’t going to grace them with letting them know they were right. When Robin has been telling you all week how bad that date was gonna go. Steve, Nancy and Argyle backing her up.
Eddie was the worst of them.
You looked at yourself in the rearview mirror, and reapplied your gloss. Your make up was almost untouched because well… That’s really how bad the sex was. You parked, stepping out of the car to walk towards the front door, and you shook yourself first trying to act the least shaken from what transpired tonight, and try to look somewhat satisfied.
You could already hear laughter on the other side, and you knew the door was unlocked for you to step in, so, taking a deep breath in, you opened the door, walking into the living room to see everyone sitting down on the couches and chairs while drinking away, including now, Vickie. They all looked up to see you enter, and you smiled at Robin as she whistled away at your arrival.
“So, how was the dick Dudette?” Argyle smiled as you sat down on the couch, grabbing a beer from the coffee table, opening it to take a sip from it.
“It was nice. You all didn’t give him enough credit, jesus.” You lied with a smirk towards Robin, who rolled her eyes at you. You heard a scoff from your right side, from a person who was sitting on the floor as they rolled up a joint. “Anything to say Munson? I mean, I at least am getting some.”
“Jason Carver is not someone to brag about. Trust us on that.” He licked onto the paper of the joint to seal it closed, and his eyes landed on you. You raised your eyebrows at him, completely unamused and he snorted as if he remembered a joke in his head, making everyone look at him.
“What’s so funny?” Steve asks as he takes a sip of his whiskey while he sat next to Robin.
“Ah, nothing. Just… Bullshit.” He licked the inside of his bottom lip as he looked at you one more time. That sent a shiver down your spine. What is wrong with him?
“Whatever.” You grabbed the pack of cigarettes that were on the coffee table, probably Steve’s, taking one stick out, and the lighter. You grabbed onto your can of beer as well, getting up from the couch to go to the small yard outside in order to smoke. You were feeling watched right now, and not by any of your friends. They couldn’t care less if it went well or not with Jason, because they just didn’t like him at all.
And the shiver followed you all the way outside, as Eddie Munson came out of the house as well, already lighting the joint as he stood next to you. You scrunched up your nose at the smell. You weren’t a person that liked weed that much, because the few times you did try it, you ended up on a bad trip.
“Can you at least move away a bit?” You immediately started, feeling the smoke hit you right in the face as you tried to smoke onto your own cancer stick. He chuckled and didn’t move from his place.
“So… Is it already time for me to say, I told you so?” He suddenly says, making your head snap at him as your heart starts to increase its pace in nerves.
“Told me what, Munson?”
“That it was going to be a disappointment. Which it was, obviously.” You shook your head, taking another drag of your cigarette as you looked at him, now slightly angered. He wasn’t going to sour your mood, not when it was already on the floor thanks to the lack of orgasm in the night.
“Why would I say something like that? I had a good time–”
“Yeah, okay, did you cum?”
“Excuse me?!” You exclaimed, now pissed off and also growing a glowing red on the face because he could see through you, once again. It was just embarrassing to know that he saw through you right after you had sex.
“By your way of acting, I am guessing a flat out No.” He said with a snicker in his lips as he took a hit of his joint.
“I don’t think it’s any of your business what I do intimately or what they do to me for that matter.” You say with venom in your throat and he finally looks at you, a sly smirk in the corner of his lips, and once more, you wanted to burn his face with the first flammable thing you could find.
“I will say it now Sweetheart, so you can save your bullshit story.” He leaned over, close to your face and you were stuck on the ground. You could smell his cologne, followed by something like bonfire, or just a wooden scent. Your eyes were locked in his, as he got closer, but you weren’t going to lose to him. You weren’t going to step back and show fear. No. He noticed, making him smirk again and finally spoke into your face, the hint of weed hitting your nostrils. “I. Told. You. So.”
Your nose flared up in anger, and that was it. His taunting. His insults. His ways of riling you up whenever he had a chance. You were sick. Sick of it. Sick that he could read you like an open book. Sick that he knew what was going on with you without even asking. Sick that he knew how bad you were getting right now, and all he was doing was smiling even wider.
So that was it.
You stepped back, putting the can in front of you and in his face, and all you did was squeeze, hard, and out of nowhere.
His face got drenched, in one second. His arms wide on his sides so it wouldn’t get on his clothes, and he stepped back as well as he spat the beer that got in his mouth. He then wiped his face with the hand that wasn’t holding the joint and glared, as his breath was going through his teeth, as if snarling at you.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You stood your ground as he took a step closer to you, and you shook your head at him, throwing your cigarette to the floor.
“What the fuck is wrong with YOU?! Who the fuck do you think you are, claiming to know about me, or what I think, or what I go through?!” He rolled his eyes as he wiped his face with his sleeve now, throwing the ruined joint to the ground.
“Jesus, you should really go and get off sweetheart, maybe your mood will lighten up if you do.” He snapped back at you, which only angered you even more, turning red all over. He didn’t need to remind you how miserable your night was. Not him.
“Maybe you should mind your own goddamn business for once.” You snapped back and you were ready to jump into his jugular, you just didn’t care anymore. If killing Munson was going to be the end of your career and life, then so be it. You’ll take the risk.
But he was saved when Robin rushed out with Steve, drinks in hand and looking completely wide eyed at the both of you.
“What the fuck is going on–” Robin started, and it was just too quick. It happened so fast you didn’t catch it at first. It was quick how Eddie grabbed onto Robin’s drink, a glass full of rum and coke, and the next second you know it, you are drenched, and the fucking drink even got in your eyes, making you wince in pain and stepping back, holding your face.
“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK MUNSON!” You yelled as the burning didn’t stop in your eyes, but the burning in your chest was so much bigger. It was so much, so much build up going on. So many failed dates. So many failed hook ups. So much failure. And he is constantly reminding you of them.
“Eddie, get the fuck out.” Steve looked at Eddie, who simply rolled his eyes as he still wiped his face from the beer of before and as he was about to answer to Steve, to tell him you had started it all, he tumbled to the ground, a huge weight straddling his chest, compressing on his lungs, almost knocking the air out of him, until he looked up to see your blood shot, red eyes. Be it from the incoming tears, from the burning of the alcohol, from the pure fury you were feeling at the moment, nobody knew, not even yourself.
But as you raised your hands to start slamming them, anywhere you could on his face, or chest, or just anywhere, as you sat on his chest after you tackled him, he was quick to grab your wrists as you both thrashed on the ground. It was childish, snapping like this, but you were just so fed up. And you hated him. You hated him. You fucking hated him.
“Holy shit!” You heard Robin calling out your name, but it was just a buzz, feeling your shoulders being grabbed onto, trying to pull you away but you were just seeing red. Complete red.
“Get the fuck off me!” He yelled, and you could feel a rumble underneath your chest, but you didn’t pay it any mind, you were just being controlled by so many pent up feelings, so many emotions you didn’t know you were even holding, and he cracked your shell open, in two seconds. Your name was now called by someone else, probably Steve.
“What the fuck happened in the two seconds you both came outside?!” He asked as you tried to break free from Eddie’s hold, to land a punch, anything at all, but he sat already pissed off at your aggression, coming face to face with you. His breath was flaring through his nose as the grip in your wrists tightened, his neck a red hue now. You knew he was controlling himself to not do anything to you, and as you were about to spit in his face, you were being pulled away by Robin and Vickie, holding you back.
Jonathan and Steve were getting Eddie up from the floor and he looked at you, venom and resentment in his eyes, and you felt a cold sweat run through your body as you finally talked again, praying your voice didn’t break at all.
“Stay the fuck away from my business Munson! You think you know everything about everyone, but you know jack shit!” At this he fake laughed and his serious tone came afterwards.
“Just because I call you out in your bullshit, doesn’t mean I am interested in any of it. Be fucking sincere for once, because maybe, just maybe darling, that might be the reason your dates fucking fail.” And you froze in place, no longer struggling, the pit in your stomach becoming bigger and bigger at each word he spat out. You felt as a coldness filled your whole body, your brain slowly shutting down, and you didn’t think it could get worse.
“Eddie!” Robin called him out.
But he didn’t stop.
“Have you ever thought that maybe, probably, POSSIBLY, you are the problem?”
Eddie, in most of his life, never regretted his words. He always says what he thinks, without a beat, without really thinking of how the other would feel about it. Nobody cared how he felt in his life, whenever people threw words at him, or what he heard people say about him, so he learnt to simply not care about them either. He said what he thought, whenever he wanted, however he wanted.. He always took pride in the coldness he created, in the acting of being nonchalant to his own words.
But as he saw your brows twitch, your features fall, and he could even see when your eyes moved to a distant place, as if you were no longer with them… He regretted them. He deeply regretted them.
You were just standing there, not really focusing on anyone, not even to the person that said those words that haunt you even in your sweetest dreams. Because, what he said, what he just thought of you, was something you thought about constantly.
What if it was all your fault?
You could hear your name being called, slowly pulling you back to earth, and that’s when you realized you weren’t breathing. You gasped when you came back, looking at Robin who had a shocked look on her face as she held your hand. She was about to ask you something, probably if you were okay, but you simply let go of her and Vickie’s hands, and walked inside the house, calmly.
You didn’t even say goodbye to Argyle, who was waiting on the couch, calling you out, asking if you were alright, but you kept going, towards the front door. You didn’t want to stay there a minute longer. You couldn’t process your thoughts properly, because you could feel it. The vomit. The vile. The knot in the stomach from the pain and the betrayal you suffered.
You had these episodes before, but it happened whenever you got a reminder on a social media app, or if your mother without noticing said something to you about it. You simply shut down, like a machine, your feelings becoming numb, and all you need is some time alone, watch a comfort show, or movie.
You could feel your phone buzzing, but you didn’t care. Not even as you finally reached your apartment complex, not even when you crossed the front door of your house, not even when you took a glass of water, not even before taking a shower.
Only after it, you managed to pull up your messages, and answer to Robin, despite the rest of the gang, except for a particular person, sending you messages as well. Robin might be the only one you could say you trusted enough to let her know you were safe. So you did. You answered to her and simply wrote:
‘I’m home.’
And then, you went to sleep.
—————————————————————
End of chapter 2
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A/N: Please, comment if you desire to be put in the taglist ❤️
taglist: @enam3l
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azsazz · 1 year
Text
Dead by Dawn (Part 11)
Azriel x Cassian x Reader
Summary: Zombie!AU: It’s been a while since the end of the world.
Warnings: Blood, gore, injury, graphic depictions of violence, eventual poly!relationship, slow burn, undead, death, mentions of cannibalism.
Word Count: 5,446
(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10)
Notes: Thank you for being so patient! I'm excited 💙
_________________________________________
Day 193
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
“This absolutely fucking sucks,” Azriel pants. He’s pushing a rotted car from behind, Feyre next to him and Cassian in the front seat, steering. Rust flakes off onto his hands and the copper against the pink flesh reminds him of the burns when they had been fresh. He rips his gaze away, focusing instead on the sweat pouring down his face, the blaring sun beating down on his back. “Who’s idea was this anyway, and why the fuck is Cassian steering?”
Feyre cuts him a glare, and for the first time she chooses not to reply with the snippy retort pressing at the back of her teeth. She can’t anyway, her mouth is too dry.
After getting back on the road at first light, you and your group had run into a small traffic jam of abandoned cars blocking the highway. There was no way to get around the mass of piled up cars, the shoulder of the asphalt too narrow for the van. 
There had been debate about turning around, trying to find another way through the city, but the van was low on gas and you all had decided that you could search for gas to siphon from the cars as you were moving them out of the van's path. 
Cassian swings around in the front seat, ducking his head out of the driver’s door where the window is smashed in, a glower on his face. Sweat beads across his forehead and his hair is damp, pulled back into a fraying knot at the back of his head. “Well, someone has to steer, and my leg still hurts,” he complains, and a part of Azriel wonders just how long he’ll be milking this injury. The other part of him knows that Cassian isn’t lying, because when he’d tried to slip a hand up his thigh while they were on watch together it drew a pained hiss from the other man.
“Hello there,” you call, dragging their attention from where they’re all glaring at each other. It’s hot and everyone is tired, hungry, and dehydrated, so tempers are running hot. With the addition of backbreaking labor and lack of gas, it will be any moment before someone snaps.
You sit comfortably in the front seat of a red convertible, grinning widely at the three, as if seeing your happy attitude could break the tension. Feyre’s lips tighten and you nearly shrink away from her harsh gaze, but you had been helping move the cars out of the way at one point, unlike Cassian.
The sleek vehicle looks as if it might have been in mint condition when the world had all gone to shit, but the leather now peels from the seats, worn from the elements.
Azriel stops pushing the car to wipe a drop of sweat from his brow. If Feyre isn’t going to help him then he’s not doing it alone, especially with someone as big as Cassian in the front seat. He crosses his arms over his chest, panting slightly from the effort and leans his hip against the trunk of the vehicle, trying his best to blink away the exertion he feels. His chest tightens at your grin and the sunglasses perched on your sun-kissed nose.
“Are those mine?”
You shove the glasses up, baring your eyes to him, twinkling and squinting from the sun. His heart kicks in his chest at the sight of the beaming grin on your face. It seems like your talk last night had helped, for you’re acting a little more like yourself today. 
Azriel bites back the twitch of his lips.
“These old things? Hang on, let me check,” you respond coolly, pulling down the visor to check yourself in the mirror. “Oh, yeah. Yup. These are definitely not mine.” You send a sly grin to the golden eyed man before flipping the mirror back into its place. As you do so, the corner of it catches your eye as it snaps back into place and you flinch hard, squawking as you cover the sting with your hand.
The irritated look slides off of Feyre’s face as she bursts into laughter at your clumsiness. “Oh my gods,” she wheezes your name like it’s such a struggle to get out, “That was too perfect!”
Your cheeks blaze as the group chuckles, and thankfully you can blame it on the sun. Looks like your terrible luck streak has followed you across state lines. After taking a look around at the group, the air much happier than it had been when Rhys had pushed you up to them, you find yourself joining in on the laughter as well. You’ve all needed this, a good laugh after a tough time, and the tightness in everyone’s shoulders ebbs away slowly.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m a joke,” you roll your eyes playfully, “Let’s go Rhys.”
“Ugh, I don’t want to do this anymore,” Feyre complains, slumping against the back of the trunk next to Azriel.
“You think you don’t want to do this,” Rhys remarks, “At least you’ve got Az helping you, I have to push (Y/N)’s ass around all by myself!”
“Hey,” you whine, twisting further around in your seat, “You think my ass is big, though?”
Cassian and Feyre roll into another fit of laughter while Rhys shakes his head and looks up at the sky as if asking ‘why me?’
“Cassian’s is the biggest,” he plays along finally, grinning with his best friend who has climbed out of the stuffy front seat to hear the conversation better.
“No doubt,” he chuckles, “But Az’s is the tightest.” 
The three of them cackle, and to you and Feyre it should seem like an inside joke. But the twinge in your chest tells you that there’s something loaded in Cassian’s words, and the nervous flicker of Azriel’s gaze towards you only confirms it.
“Alright, alright,” Azriel says, face trained into that harshly stoic one he’s so fond of wearing. “Back to work, we’re almost done. We’ve been sitting ducks out here for far too long.”
His words sober the rest of your group up and you all seem to check your surroundings, realizing just how off guard you’d all been while you were joking around. The highway seems quiet, but that can all change in the span of a heartbeat.
Rhys braces his hands on the trunk of the convertible, his muscles straining against the fabric of his graphic t-shirt, sticking to his skin with sweat. 
You swear you catch Feyre drooling.
After a few more cars have been moved out of the way, you and Cassian watching with amusement and pretending to be doing an imperative job like steering, you’ve all sufficiently cleared a path for the van to fit through. The line of cars you’ve moved is uneven and Cassian may have crashed some into each other, but overall, you think that you all did a fantastic job.
“Now, to find gas,” Rhys announces, wiping his brow with the bottom of his shirt. The motion shows off some impressive abs. You whistle while Feyre cat calls him playfully in unison. The unpronounced leader of your group rolls his eyes in response, smirking as he flexes a little before letting the fabric drop back down.
“We should split up, it’ll be quicker to check the cars,” Feyre adds. She looks drained from the energy spent pushing the vehicles but her gray gaze is hungry, eating up Rhys as she looks him up and down, unblinking.
Azriel shrugs, still panting a little from the effort of shoving the last big truck out of the way. It was easily almost three times the size of any of the other cars, with its lifted suspension and meaty wheels, complete with a gaudy silver hitch that’s shaped like a ballsack. He had needed both Cassian and Rhys’ help to move the monstrous thing. “Works for me.”
“Cassian, (Y/N), you stay closer to the van,” Rhys tells you, and when you and Cass are on the verge of protesting, Feyre glares at you, shutting the both of you up quickly.
“I’ll take that end,” Azriel points to the far end of the line, where he’d just had help moving the last car. He begins trudging his way up the line, shoving his hands deep into his pockets.
Rhys and Feyre walk with him until they reach a third of the way, where the former drops off to begin his own search for gasoline to siphon. Feyre stays beside Azriel until they hit the second third of the cars, where she begins to look.
The line of cars isn’t that long, maybe twenty vehicles or so, but right now it feels like he has to walk four miles to reach the end. He’s tired beyond belief, even though you’ve had a - for the most part - easy past few days, with the exception of you being taken. Exerting his energy and lack of nutrients, mixing with the bright sun beating down on him, Azriel feels like he could fall asleep right there on the pavement.
The faster you find the gas, the faster you can take a nap.
He begins his search, skipping past the big truck and kicking at its tire on the way. There’s no way that thing even takes the same kind of fuel as the van, and he’s holding a grudge against the thing for being so fucking heavy, moving on to the sedan next to it.
Its gas tank is barren, and so is the one on the next car. He looks down the line at the group as he makes his way, and he wonders if he can climb up on the front of one of these rusted vehicles and sit for a bit while everyone else looks for gas.
While Azriel is thinking of slacking off a bit, he doesn’t notice the nearly disintegrated hand reaching from underneath the car until it latches onto his leg, tripping him. He yelps and goes down hard, twisting around frantically to get a look at the ugly thing dragging itself closer to him.
“Shit,” he hisses, kicking at the zombies face. His foot connects with a sickening crunch, its brittle jaw cracking off and clattering onto the asphalt. It makes his stomach roil but the undead being doesn’t falter, it’s fraying nails biting into the fabric of his pants.
He scrambles for the knife at his belt. He shoves a booted foot at the zombie again, and now he hears someone yelling after him. It’s Feyre, he thinks.
“Azriel, watch out!”
But the warning is too late. Another zombie lunges at him, appearing as if from nowhere. How had he not heard these stupid, clumsy creatures? 
It knocks the knife from his grip and if Azriel didn’t know how braindead these things were he would feel as though it was a well thought out attack.
He’s panicking now, heart facing in his chest. Sweat is getting in his eyes, stinging them and making it hard to see as he struggles against the two zombies, the hot asphalt burning through his clothing. He’s defenseless, up against two undead that are just as hungry as he is, and he doesn’t know if there are more on the way.
Azriel bucks his legs again, ripping them free from the zombies feeble grip. It’s jawless, so it wouldn’t be able to fully bite down on his flesh, but it still poses a massive threat, and the thing is fucking disgusting, he wants it nowhere near him. 
He tries to hold off the other that’s groaning and reaching for his face. His fingers are curled around the zombie's throat and the skin splits, black blood thick and dripping between his fingers. His aching muscles scream in pain from all of the work he’s just done and he doesn’t know how long he can keep it up.
His golden eyes squeeze shut just as Feyre’s scythe plunges through the head of the zom he’s holding up. The thing goes slack in his arms immediately and something drips onto his face, but Azriel seems unconcerned as he shoves the limp body off of him. 
When he opens his eyes he’s met with the sight of Feyre taking the other one down, pulling a few clumps of hair on its head before she cuts cleanly into the spot that severs its head from its neck.
“Are you okay?” she asks through her pants, scanning the area for more.
“Y-yeah,” he lies. His heart is racing and he checks himself over mindlessly, feeling for any signs of bites or scratches that may have occurred. When it’s his third time feeling over himself a hand enters his line of vision and his trembling fingers falter. He looks up, eyes wide.
Feyre is holding a hand out to him.
Feyre saved him.
Feyre hates him.
Or does she?
Azriel takes her hand in his and lets her help pull him to his feet just as Rhys reaches them, Cassian and you close behind, worried looks painted across all of your faces.
You shove the sunglasses up into your hair, eyes flooded with concern for the golden eyed boy. “Oh my gods, Az! Are you okay?”
The gaze that has settled on Cassian’s, eyebrows relaxing with relief, turn to you.
Azriel offers you a forced smile that no one believes. “Yeah, I’m all good.”
“You have to be more careful, Az,” Rhys says, sending him a stern look from where he’s looking over Feyre, wiping her bloody hands on his shirt.
“I know,” Azriel groans, scrubbing at his face. He’s exhausted and just wants to lie down, presumably with Cassian at his side and you on the other, or in his lap like when he’d carried you injured through the woods. “Please tell me one of you found gas.”
Cassian kicks a rock, everyone shaking their heads sadly.
“None of the cars had any gas?” He figured that at least one out of the many that you’d all moved would have a little bit of fuel.
“Shit,” Azriel sighs, “Now what?”
You all stand in a circle, thinking. None of you really want to abandon the van, the only place you’ve felt safe since you’d shacked up with the three men, but no one has thought of a better idea.
Your attention is stolen by the low groan of a zombie. It’s shuffling out of the trees a few yards away, and where there’s one, there are sure to be more. And now that Feyre and Azriel had killed two, you knew it would only be a matter of minutes before more appeared. Everyone stiffens at the flocking undead.
“We should go.” 
No one protests as you all begin to head back to the van. You unsheath your knife and find Cassian doing the same. Feyre’s scythe twitches in her fingers, like she’s itching to go again. Rhys has pulled a pistol from his waistband, and Azriel assesses the path back to the vehicle, twisting his blade in his still shaky hand.
Cassian presses the keys into your hand and you light up at the sight. He’s one pace in front of you, a wall of protection that makes your heart warm at the sentiment. He won’t let you be taken again. 
“Fuck, yes. It’s about time!”
Azriel’s mouth curls in the corner at your amusement, even more so when Feyre mutters under her breath when she sees the way that you’re spinning the keyring around your finger. 
“Oh gods.”
You huff, clutching the keys tightly in your fist as if she’s going to reach out and grab them from you.
“I’m not that bad at driving,” you promise, trying to reassure the men who are all giving you suspicious looks.
“I’m not the one that crashed my driver’s education car,” Feyre makes a face.
“I told you that in confidence,” you hiss and she snorts. “Well, at least I can stay inside of the lines on the road.”
Your companion rolls her eyes and you’re thankful that the three men with you continue watching the undead creatures trailing you because all you’re focused on right now is clearing your name. 
“Yeah, because staying in the lines is so important right now. I’ll surely be more careful, with all of this traffic and all.”
As fun as witnessing you and Feyre go at it is, Azriel climbs into the back of the van, collapsing on the seat after bunching the dirty blanket under his head. He shuts his eyes and breathes out a long sigh, leaving Rhys and Cassian to take care of you and Feyre’s bickering, too exhausted to put in the energy.
“Easy, ladies,” Cassian grins, trying to ease the tension. His hands come down on your shoulders with a squeeze as he guides you away from Feyre to the driver’s side. “There will be all the time in the world for bickering about who’s the best driver when we find a safehouse.”
Feyre responds but you don’t hear it over the rumble of the engine turning over. Cassian slides into the passenger seat and Rhys sits nearest the front, letting you know that everyone’s ready to go, a weary look on his face.
“We might be able to make it to the next town,” you say hopefully, looking at the fuel gauge. There’s just under an eighth of a tank and your stomach turns uneasily. What if there’s nothing else out there and the van goes completely empty? 
“If we see any cars we can jump out and check the tanks for fuel. Hopefully we will find something,” Rhys suggests, before adding, “Let’s get moving before the horde catches up. (Y/N), the gas pedal is the one on the right.”
You scowl, shoving the shifter into drive.
“Should I be holding onto this handle?” Cassian jokes as the car jerks forward.
You cut him a look but the playful smile on his face eases your sour mood. His eyes dart to the back of the van, noticing Azriel’s sleeping form and the way that Rhys and Feyre are tucked in tight, presumably making a plan for where to head to next. Cassian snakes a hand across the leather seats to settle it on your thigh.
You startle at the feeling but he gives you a gentle squeeze and you relax into the seat a little, keeping your eyes straight on the road.
Neither of you mention it.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
You don’t find any gas. In fact, you don’t see a single car on the fifteen mile journey into the next town. 
“We’re doomed,” Feyre groans, eyeing the fuel gauge over your shoulder. The orange line is dipping dangerously low to empty.
“All good things must come to an end eventually,” Cassian says sadly, like he’s about to give the van a proper eulogy. His gaze slides around the interior of the van, taking in all of the scattered belongings, and then each person in turn. His hazel eyes linger on Azriel’s before he straightens in his seat.
The air is thick. Leaving the van behind means leaving safety, a quick getaway, and your home.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Azriel says, a little stern. He refuses to believe that this is the end for the van. “We can check out this town, stay the night in the van, and in the morning we will take it as far as we can. If we still don’t find anything, we reassess or continue on foot.”
Feyre shrugs, “Works for me. I need to start checking towns anyway, look for signs my sisters might’ve left if they’ve had to move.” Her shoulders are tight with the thought of her sisters being in trouble and possibly having to be on the move.
You knew that this was a very real possibility, that you’d run out of gas someday or that something would happen to the gaudy baby pink van. The one piece of solace you could actually find yourself relaxing in, might no longer be an option.
“Maybe we’ll find a nice abandoned house with a tall fence and solar panels,” you sigh, shutting off the engine. 
You can only hope.
Feyre indulges you, nudging you with her elbow, a soft grin on her face. “Oh, and the pantry will be fully stocked. It’ll be filled with ho-hos and twinkies and cereal of all kinds!”
Everyone’s smiling now, taking the chance for one last laugh before things get serious.
“And a soccer net in the backyard!”
“And a pool,” Cassian adds, and you can picture the man laying on a floatie underneath the burning sun.
Your cheeks twinge pink.
“And a movie theater room!”
Everyone’s shouting out suggestions now, giggling and giddy. Azriel smiles, admiring each and every one of his friends in turn. Cassian, with his wide smile and the crinkles by his eyes, making his heart falter in his chest. Feyre, who, up until she’d saved him, had not been his biggest fan. Rhys, whose nose is scrunched with his smile, the long lines of his smile curled up, the dimple in his cheek visible. And finally, you, whose eyes are sparkling. Your laughter is melodic, complimenting Cassian’s lower chortle, the sound reverberating through his bones.
Feyre sighs, relaxing back into her seat, the remnants of her grin still gracing her features. “Oh, man, that would really be something.”
“What are the odds we build it ourselves?” Cassian asks, and everyone turns to look at him. He only shrugs, continuing, “Think about it. Say we find a house with a fence, that’s already at least a little protection. If the house has a pool, that’s even better. Some are probably still in decent shape, and it would be easy to tell if they aren’t.”
As he continues, his plan actually starts to sound feasible.
“We can barricade it for even more protection, bring the van and maybe we’ll find some gas eventually. We scour the neighborhood, and finally, we won’t have to be on the run every single day. And I have all of my seeds,” he says, puffing his chest proudly, “If we have somewhere safe we’d have a steady food supply.”
“And if anything should happen – and I pray that it doesn’t, but I have a little medical experience,” you tack on.
Feyre rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest, pouting. “I chose a really bad time to major in art,” she mumbles.
Everyone turns to Az and Rhys, seeing what they think. They share a glance and Azriel shrugs in response. They can see clearly how tired everyone is, see it in the way your walks become longer, your sleep schedules become later, lethargic and endlessly exhausted. With you and Cassian not back at 100% yet, having a place for everyone to spread out and not be so on top of each other does sound quite nice.
“Alright,” Rhys agrees, and the van erupts into another round of cheers. “But, we have to make a plan, a fool proof one. How are we going to find your sisters, Fey? What is the guard schedule going to be like and who will be leading scouts through towns. I’m talking about exit strategy, rendezvous, how long we wait for each other if something goes wrong. We go over everything, and we don’t let our guard down.”
Everyone nods, agreeing. Az’s shoulders relax a little knowing that everyone will continue to stay conscious.
“Alright,” Rhys says, looking each and every person in the eyes. “That’s what we’re going to do. Gear up, we’ve got some house hunting to do.”
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
“What about that one?”
“No,” Feyre makes a face.
“Why not?”
“I don’t like the shutters.”
Rhys sighs, shaking his head a little. “You’ve vetoed every house we’ve suggested.”
Cassian complains at the exact same time, “Shutters could help keep the zoms away. Extra protection.”
“Well, it’s not my fault all of these houses are ugly,” she defends, clearly grumpy.
You nudge Azriel’s elbow and roll your eyes dramatically at your friend. The corner of his mouth twitches and amusement sparkles his golden eyes. It makes your heart stutter in your chest.
He is truly so beautiful.
“Well, you have your pick of the block, Fey,” you answer, “Which one do you like?”
Everyone watches her look around, turning slowly as she assesses the block. Her gray eyes are sharp, examining every house in her line of vision. Eventually, she sighs, hands on her hips and exclaims, “None of these are screaming ‘best safe house in the world’ to me.”
The entire group seems to groan collectively and Feyre gasps, clutching a hand to her chest. “Excuse me, but I thought we all had a collective dream of what we wanted in a safehouse! Maybe you all should’ve lowered your standards a bit and we wouldn’t be in this mess!”
“C’mon, Fey,” you drape yourself across her back, hooking your chin over her shoulder. “We have to find something so that we can prepare it before nightfall. Please, pick something.”
“Alright,” she sighs, “Let’s go.”
Azriel’s brows furrow as you begin walking again, the slight limp in your step has him silently moving closer, flanking your other side so he can protect you if something happens. You notice his presence and beam up at him. He doesn’t have a chance to respond because you’re already looking at Feyre, who’s asking you something.
It’s another hour before Feyre finally decides on a house. You swear you’ve been up and down this block six times before but you don’t mention it, best not to when everyone is sweating and hungry.
The house is gated, but the lock is broken and the gate swings open easily, letting you all in. 
With Rhys’ help, he and Azriel wrap the fence with the chain you’d stuffed into your bag from the night you’d met them, when you and Feyre were taking cover in the clothing shop. 
“Looks good so far, Feyre,” Azriel compliments, and you think it might be the first time you’ve ever heard them interact quite like this. Since she’s saved him from the two zombies coming after him, he’s been a lot nicer to your companion.
The property is large, and Azriel scans it for any signs of movement. He’s already formulating a schedule in his head, who will take shifts with who and when, walking the property in the morning and maybe a few times throughout the day, at least until they’ve barricaded it better, and then a duo on watch while the rest sleep.
You trek up the small hill that the house is perched on. “Better to be at a high vantage point,” Feyre had said when she’d pointed it out.
“(Y/N), Cass, Fey, do you think you can stand watch out here while Rhys and I take a look inside?” Azriel asks as you all make your way up the stone steps to the large home.
“Sure, I’ll find the house and keep watch,” Feyre mutters in response. “Better not steal the room I want, Shadow.”
And there she is.
“By all means,” Azriel gestures to the door, rolling his eyes at the stupid nickname that seems to be haunting him. “If you want to check the house with Rhys, I’ll stay out here.”
“We’re not helpless, you know,” you say, face scrunched in a pout. Your arms are folded across your chest and you’re leaning heavily on your good foot. You almost look convincing, until Cassian bops you on the nose and you break out into a smile, shoving at him playfully.
“Look alive,” Rhys nods towards the gate where a lone zombie is dragging itself down the street. It hasn’t spotted you yet, and if everyone’s quiet, it won’t. Rhys and Feyre nod at each other and with their weapons poised and ready, Rhys heads for the door.
It’s locked.
“Didn’t see that one coming,” he comments, staring at the door like it should be open for them. Like someone hadn’t been hiding out in this house as the chaos around them took over.
“Let’s try the back,” Feyre suggests. 
It’s golden hour now, and the sun will be dipping down soon. You need to find a way inside without making too much noise because there’s no way you’re making it back to the car by nightfall.
You all move around the house only to see more stairs.
You make a face at your throbbing ankle. “Come open the front door for me. I’m not walking down all those stairs.”
“Yeah, I think I’ll stay here too,” Cassian agrees, winking at you. His leg has been feeling a lot better, but it’s not quite healed up as much as he’d like and all of the walking today has irritated the stitches, leg itching underneath the sweat-soaked bandages.
He’ll need you to change them soon.
Azriel turns to Rhys and Feyre, who both look at each other and shrug. 
“Be back in a minute, then,” Rhys says, taking the lead.
Azriel follows behind you and Cassian, and your chest tightens uncomfortably. You still don't know what is going on between the two of them and you can feel it all bubbling up inside of you now that it’s the three of you alone. Has Cassian just been using you? But he seemed just as eager to kiss you as you were to kiss him. 
It is the end of the world…maybe the two of them aren’t a thing? Not official? Maybe they’re just friends who like to lose themselves in another friend? The thoughts swirling around your head make you dizzy, and you nearly collapse next to Cassian on the stone fence enclosing the front porch. You lift your leg up onto Casisan’s lap, who laughs heartily as you nearly demand for him to rub your aching leg.
“Spoiled,” he murmurs, but his warm hands knead at your tender muscles.
The grip Azriel has around his knife tightens unconsciously at the sight of you both and he turns away so they don’t catch the pinched reaction on his face. 
He’s jealous. Of you, being massaged by Cassian, so effortlessly taking what you want. Of Cassian, because he gets to touch you and receive smiles instead of flinches in return.
It’s like torture, the thirty minutes or so that you’re sitting out front, waiting for Feyre and Rhys to clear the house. You wonder if they were using up this time to finally fuck, the tension between the two of them thicker than that you’re creating between you, Cassain, and Azriel.
You and Cassian seem off in your own world, the large man talking lowly into your ear, and he watches you giggle in response. Or the sneaky poke to your side that made you squirm and squeal. Azriel watches Cassian’s fingers travel further and further up the leg of your pants, and he shifts as the back of his neck grows hot.
Finally, the front door clicks open, revealing Rhys who lets everyone know that the home is clear.
“Anything?” Azriel asks as he passes his friend.
“Nah. Seems like it was abandoned a while ago. No food, but there’s beds,” he explains, and all of a sudden it hits him, just how tired he actually is.
“Yeah?” Azriel knows he sounds hopeful. He must look like it too because Rhys’ gaze on him softens and he places a comforting hand on his shoulder with a nod. He can’t remember the last time he’s actually slept in a bed, it’s been in the back of his van for what seems like forever. The vehicle wasn’t the worst place he’s had to sleep. No, that would be the one time he and his friends slept in a dumpster. He shudders at the memory. This, he thinks, is better than winning the lottery.
“Yeah,” Rhys confirms, violet eyes sparkling. He opens his mouth to say something else but is cut off by your shriek of glee as Feyre hugs you so tightly you both topple to the floor.
“This feels really good, Az. I think we might be able to stay awhile.”
Azriel chews his lip. He hates being the one who always has to think about safety and how badly things might turn out, but if anyone is going to do it, it’s him. He wishes that this is something you can all pull off, staying here, but he doesn’t have that sure feeling in his stomach. 
He doesn’t voice his concern though, everyone is too happy right now.
Instead, he agrees gently. “Yeah, maybe.”
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
DBD Taglist: @writingsbychlo @kemillyfreitas @5moremin @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @waggel36 @bionic-donut @que-serasera @applepie02 @azrielsbabyg @arcadianmoonlight @pradaxstyles @illyrian-dreamer @secret-ly-here @reiincarnatiion @fuckthatfeeling @shadowsingersmate24 @harrystylesfan2686 @poppyalice2001
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thehallstara · 8 months
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hi hello it's both itch creator day AND my birthday so this is a perfect excuse for me to do a master post of my games and zines!!!
Collabs:
Agami Village: Created with Weiwei Xu as part of last year's HES SUPERFestival, supported by Hand Eye Society and Canadian Council for the Arts. It's a short visual novel about fishing and time loops!
ghost story: A short prototype of a first person murder mystery where you're a ghost trying to solve your own murder. Done as a final project for Code Coven's Intro to Game Making course back in the winter.
(neither of these are purchasable but if you try them and like them you can always send a kofi!!)
Bitsy:
on nights we dream of stars: a semi-autobiographical story about stars. mostly just me figuring out how bitsy works.
on the nature of ghosts: small vignette about ghosts made for the february 2022 bitsy jam.
the end is near: a soliloquy about the end of the world, done for both the july 2022 bitsy jam and crabjam 2022. inspired by s24 for of blaseball but wholly independent to it.
lungs to burn: a short poem game about wildfires, grief, and queer connection done for the may 2023 bitsy jam. featured in indiepocalypse #43
no postage required: a somewhat-sequel to the end is near; or a letter to a lost love. done for the 2023 trans game dev server jam.
Twines:
cards fall where they may: anthology of interactive blaseball stories told through a tarot reading. some of the most impressive css i've done to this day, and i honestly think it's worth checking out just for that.
ablaze with the people you've been: another interactive story, this one a story about edric tosser told in four acts. still worth checking out even if you know jack shit about blaseball imo and still one of my favourite things i've ever made.
run from me or rip me open: the thing that started it all, the first game i ever made. yet another blaseball story; it's a little rough around the edges but it's got heart.
Zines:
Kriah: A personal zine about my experiences with antisemitism over the years. a heavy read but one i would implore gentiles to take a look at regardless.
square roots: made with @tigerquoii for the 2022 blaseball zine jam. a series of conversations.
and that's it!!! all of them (besides the collabs) are pay what you can, forever and always. if you've ever enjoyed something i've made, consider supporting me and my projects! and if you can't, rating and comments are always equally appreciated mwah
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angelkissiies · 1 year
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Ive had this image in my head all week and i need to excorcise it so im writing it here. Feel free to ignore.
I really think Abby should get to rip open a clicker's skull by jamming her hands into that... I have no idea how to describe it... you know that split up their faces where the two halves of their explodey mushroom heads meet... jam both hands in there and rip it apart like whichever Chris splitting that firewood in that MCU movie... where he... does that... I'm vaguely remembering a gif...There's a reason why you write and I send asks on anon and it's not cos I'm articulate.
But yeah, whoever plays Abby in the HBO show should get to do that, as a treat! :)
Also, for us Abby x Reader nerds, just picture it: You think you're fucked, there's a clicker crawling toward you, you lost your weapons somehow (stay with me). You're scrabbling backwards but its faster than you, there's nowhere to go and all you can do is accept your fate. Out of nowhere, Abby jumps on its back, grabs the motherfucker's face as its inches away from yours and pulls it into her chest to rip it apart. Blood everywhere. She's breathing heavy. You can't believe she'd be so stupid to put her hands IN a clicker's FACE. She can't believe you thought she wouldn't try everything to save you. Then you make out. You know?
Exorcism complete
i kinda just threw this out because you seriously inspired me !! i hope this is an okay rendition of your vision !!
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You’d run out of options, dodging behind a half wall to escape the roaming clicker that you’d gotten trapped with. The floor to the room you’d been searching caved in and left you empty-handed, scrambling around in the dark to gain your bearings- though before you’d had the chance to dig your flashlight out of your pack, you heard the telltale clicking noise come from down the hall. It was one bad situation after another, leading you to where you sat now, clutching the only useful thing you could find in the array of items you’d retrieved from the building.
The light from your flashlight bounced off of the ceiling, illuminating your surroundings as you peeked around the corner, seeing the cordyceps ridden being shuffling around the stairwell. So far, it only seemed like it was the one, which sounded easy enough right? Wrong, without a knife you were almost certainly fucked- seeing as their growths served as a king of armor for them. “Goddamn it.” You mouthed, hearing the floorboards above where you sat squeak- catching the clickers attention.
You quickly moved, taking refuge in a small corner, having no place else to go now. The room only had one exit and as you used a hand to cover your mouth, you saw the hypersensitive infected shuffle in- whipping its blinded head around as it made a hellacious screaming noise. It knew, somehow, that something was down here. Its legs drew it further and further into the room until it was just feet away from you. You knew this was it, do or die- and the circumstances had forced your hand to choose the latter- squeezing your eyes shut as you braced yourself for the inevitable lunge.
Abby had made it, just seconds before it was too late- not even thinking to draw her knife as she saw your unmoving figure coward under the clicker. She moved too fast for it to counter her, her heavy boot coming into contact with its knobby kneecap- causing it to fall before her. Her heart was racing, hands jamming inside the monster's mouth- fingers securing on the flattened beds of its teeth as she forced the bones apart- a sickening noise of pain emanating from its mouth as the pieces came apart in her hands. The blood from the kill didn’t phase her, not wasting a second as she threw the pieces of the skull onto the floor, coming to her knees before you. “Baby?” She whispered, rubbing the blood from her hands onto the legs of her cargo pants.
You could barely hear her over the sound of your heartbeat echoing in your ears, only jumping when you felt her calloused fingers brush the hair from your face back. Your eyes darted up, slightly blurry from how tight you’d screwed them shut- arms immediately latching around her shoulders as you launched yourself at the girl. “Fuck, oh god, Abby.” You shuddered, fingers digging into the dark blue of her jacket, burying your face in her neck. “I thought it was over.”
She let out a shaky breath, thinking the same, as she wrapped her arms around your waist- pulling you impossibly close. “I’d never let anything happen to you.” She said matter-of-factly, mind still racing as she took a deep breath- inhaling the sweet scent of your coconut shampoo. It had been a gift, something you only used once in a while due to its scarcity, and she thanked god you decided to use it today- feeling the nerves dwindle as she melted into you. “Would do anything to keep you safe.”
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valkyrayn · 11 months
Text
sleeping with the enemy - chapter two. posted on ao3
Pairing: Marius von Hagen x afab!reader
Words: 1,386
Tags: angst and porn, jealousy, unprotected sex, dirty talk, rough sex, oral sex, blowjob, cum facial, balcony sex, public sex, fingering, supposed to be porn with plot but this one's just porn really
A/N: lawd did this took so long to finish cus of a long writer’s block and everything else. but anyways enjoy the porn. also what do we think of the cliffhanger heehee
also posted on ao3 if you wanna leave comments! 💜
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Nothing is gentle in the way that he fucks you. 
You don’t want him to, anyway. Gentle leads to tenderness, and tenderness leads to some very real emotions that you’re trying to suppress. 
Whatever you have is purely physical—for him to use your body the way he wants to, and for you to receive the pleasure that comes with it. It’s a win for the both of you, in the physical aspect of things at least. 
Emotional? You’ve long decided that what your heart wants does not matter. Besides, the feelings you have are temporary. You only like him when he’s fucking you. On a normal day? You can’t stand him. 
So things are good as it is, and you refuse to jeopardise it—and you know he wouldn’t either. 
Now to the actual down side of this arrangement is how you have not once fucked on an actual bed.
Car, closets, office, public bathrooms—check. But an actual bedroom? The one time you’ve ever gotten close to that was at a countryside inn that you travelled an hour to—only for him to be recognized the second he set foot at the door. 
Sure, he could just pay them to keep it a secret, but from his experience, nobody can be trusted to keep their mouths shut. And neither of you would want to risk that. 
The only person that he could trust with his secrets is his assistant. 
“Watch the door, Vincent.” 
“Yes, Master.”
You only get to briefly look at Vincent before the tall mahogany door shuts behind you as you’re pulled inside the empty ballroom by Marius. 
Balcony? Check.
———
Arms resting on top of the marble railings, your legs begin to tremble as you’re nearing your climax—and that’s when you start praying to the gods above that nobody would look up. 
They would be met with such a pornographic display. 
Your heavy tits exposed to the cold night air, dress bunched around your waist and your torn panties resting around your ankle—with you, bent forward as Marius sinks his stiff cock inside you from behind. 
“Nngh fuck—you’re squeezing me even tighter…is this turning you on…?” His tone changes at the realisation. 
Of course it’s turning you on—his mere presence was enough, but to be fucked like this at the risk of being caught? Turned on would be an understatement. 
His deft fingers are circling your clit in quick motion, in tandem with his rough fucking; dick pumping in and out of your dripping wet cunt. This isn’t his usual fast fucking. You both know how much noise that would make. So he fucks you harder instead.
His hips snap against yours, burying his cock deep into your sex and then pulling out all the way only to thrust back in even deeper, instantly ripping an orgasm out of you. 
Your legs tremble and you fall limp against the railings, thankfully his strong arms are still wrapped around you to keep you from falling onto the floor—or head first 3 floors down.
Marius jams himself inside your clenching pussy as he pulls you taut against his hard body, his hot breath fanning your skin making you tremble with arousal. 
“Do you want them to look up? So they can watch how you’re getting fucked dumb by my cock…?”
You moan.
He’s so obscene. 
He pulls out and rests his cock against your ass, rubbing slowly against your heated skin while his hands start playing with your tits. He rolls your nipple between his fingers while the other is weighing the fullness of your breast with his calloused hand. 
“Mmm jiejie…let them see how much of a slut you are…letting me fuck you out in the open like this.”
He turns you around to face him, pulls you in closer with his arm around your waist then plunged his fingers inside your still quivering sex. He crashes his lips against yours—swallowing your scream as your body involuntarily starts convulsing again from the sudden orgasm. 
Marius pushes his tongue inside your mouth and you reciprocate with the same hunger; pushing your own tongue into his, biting his lower lip and moaning into his mouth. You’re so horny out of your mind and you can’t believe how desperate your body is for him still—even after coming so many times. 
He starts scissoring his fingers inside your cunt, thumb rubbing your sensitive nub and clit roughly until you come undone for the—honestly, you lost count. 
“You’re coming so much…fuck…” He looks down at where his fingers are buried inside you as you gush uncontrollably around him, your release dripping down his arm and down the inside of your thighs. 
“Marius…you—“
“Yes?”
With the little energy you have left, you press your palms against the hard planes of his chest before pushing him back—away from the railings just enough to give you space to kneel down. 
“Your turn.”
What would people think, if they caught you like this? The young handsome CEO of PAX with his ex-attorney—his cock in her mouth with his head thrown back in pleasure and his fingers in her hair. 
Two supposed enemies, caught in a tryst—you can’t even begin to imagine how the rest of the NXX would react to that. 
But you’d like to argue, with that voice in your head, that two people who hate each other can fuck each other. 
It helps that he’s rough with the way that he fucks you—serves as a reminder that you’re only using each other to satiate your animalistic desires. 
So for now, you’ll indulge in the pleasure. 
You hollow your cheeks around him, before swirling your tongue on the head of his cock to taste more of him causing him to tighten his grip around your hair followed by a hiss and a string of ‘fucks’ and ‘oh god’ leaving his mouth. He snaps his hips forward, until his tip touches the back of your throat before pulling out completely to cum all over your face.
“Fuck, you dirty little slut…open your mouth for me…”
You tilt your head with your mouth wide open and tongue jutting out to receive him. He pumps his cock with his hand, sending spurts of his thick load to land on your tongue and cheeks. 
He looks down at you and you maintain eye contact as you lick the cum dripping on your lips before swallowing it. His Adam's apple bobbed at your lewd display before reaching down with his thumb to wipe some more of his cum from your cheek and then pushing it into your hot waiting mouth. 
You eagerly suck onto his fingers, swallowing every drop before wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 
Marius picks you up from the floor and presses your back against the cold concrete wall behind you. After tucking his cock back inside his pants, he begins to work at tidying you up.
“Not sorry about your…” he trails, dangling your torn panties in front of you with a smug smile on his face before you snatch it away from his hand. 
“I’ll buy you some new ones—“
“No.”
He raises an eyebrow at you. You shoot him a glare.
“Just stop tearing it apart. Have some self control.” You say, half joking as you turn away from him.
Immediately, you are pulled back by the wrist, crashing your body against his. “What did you expect after sending me a text like that…” 
Your small hand is pressed against his chest and you can feel the thrum of his heartbeat—faster than usual. 
“You’re telling me you’re here on a date? Where is he now? And why aren’t you asking him to ‘take care of your soaking, wet cunt?’ 
Blush immediately starts blooming on your cheeks at hearing him recite your text to him back to you. 
Texting him after a few glasses of wine was not a good idea.
“Marius…” You exhale, lightly pushing him away to look at him but he pulls you tight against him, burying his face against the crook of your neck—before lightly kissing the mark that he’s left there. 
“You’re mine…” 
You can barely make out his words so you try to push him away again only for him to tighten his arm around you, refusing to let go. 
“Marius—”
“Come home with me tonight.”
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crystalbeetle888 · 2 months
Text
Voyage into the Unknown Pt.2
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Master List
Pt.1 - Pt.2 - Pt.3
The sounds of chanting and singing echo faintly throughout Bilbos’ home, as I drift in and out of sleep. I toss and turn trying to drift off again but to no avail. Groggily, I rise from the soft bed and trot out of the room, heading towards the sounds of chatter. A deep voice sounds from around the corner “- I lost my way, twice. Wouldn't have found it at all had it not been for that mark on the door” Shuffling is heard before Bilbo's voice interrupts “There is no mark on that door, it was painted a week ago!” he exclaims. “There is a mark, I put it there myself” My heart stutters ‘That voice’ I panic ‘He’s the magic chanting guy. What the fuck does he want?” I slink away quietly back to my room, quickly packing my belongings. ‘I can’t stay here’ I think, before creeping back into the hall. Peeking around the corridor and seeing no one there, I make a dash to the next wall. 'Fuck my shoes are by the door' I think to myself not noticing the approaching figure. “Excuse me, Mrs Baggins?” 
“Fuck” I whisper startled, spinning around a short young looking man with a bob cut stands behind me “What do you want?” I ask hastily. He looked down shyly “I just wanted to ask if you had any more bread loaves for our jam?” I look at him dumbfounded. “Did you check the kitchen and pantry?” He shakes his head, eyes lighting up before jogging off. ‘What the fuck?’ I turn back around, two more young men stand across the hall staring at me. One of them is blonde, with two funny braids hanging from his moustache. The other, brunette, with wispy bangs framing his face and deep brown eyes. He stands slightly taller than the blonde man, but both equally as ripped looking. ‘Damn’. I peek into the empty entrance hall and spot my shoes ‘No creepy wizard man, so far, so good’, the two men standing there, still spying on me. Quietly sneaking into the hall I sit on the floor and begin to put my shoes on. The two men follow me curiously into the room, “What are you doing?” I turn and shush them “I’m sneaking out” I whisper. “Why are you sneaking out?” the blonde one asks “Are you being held prisoner?” The brunette asks quietly in concern. I scrunch my face in confusion “What? No. I’m avoiding the wizard” They give each other a look “Why?” they both ask in unison. I huff in frustration “Because he's evil, and he kidnapped me”. Finally putting on my boots I stand up just as another short muscular man enters the room. Regalness and power emanate from him. His long flowing raven hair and steely eyes are intense. ‘Double damn’.
“Fili, Kili-” He stops mid sentence upon seeing me “Who’s this?” He asks suspiciously. “Just leaving” I say walking towards the door, “You’re leaving Y/N?” Bilbo and a tall bearded man walk into the room. ‘Oh my god’ “It’s you! You bastard! You kidnapped me!” I yell angrily pointing my finger at the tall man. He gives me a surprised look “I’m not sure I know what you’re referring to” he says nonchalantly. “Oh fuck right off! You’re the one who brought me to this mediaeval shit show” I snap. The old man strokes his beard in thought “Curious” he mutters to himself. 
“Right okay, I’m down with this, Thank you so much for the hospitality Bilbo, but I’m leaving” I say walking over to him and shaking his hand before pointing at the old man beside him “And you, stay the hell away from me” I turn around finding the short majestic man blocking the door, looking at the old man behind me. I glare at him before stalking over, “I don’t know what you're scheming, but I am leaving, so move out of my way you weird little man” he raises an eyebrow at me with a smug look, “No” he states, crossing his arms across his broad chest. I let out a angry breath “I you don’t fucking-” A light tap hits the back of my head before a wave of intense sleepiness washes over me. I stumble backwards before falling over, a pair of strong arms catch me and the last thing I see is the brunette man's handsome face before falling unconscious. 
The room falls silent as the strange human woman lays asleep in Kilis’ arms. Then Bilbo panics “Oh no, Oh Ms.Y/N” He rushes over. Kili looks over at the wizard “Why did you do that?” He asks, confused. Gandalf hums in thought grasping his magic staff “I just thought my lady could use a rest, to- gather herself” He steps away content with his work. Kili picks the woman up bridal style before looking towards his uncle for guidance. Thorin nods his head towards the other room “Lay her down in front of the fire, let her rest” Kili nods in response and carries the woman into the other room, his brother in tow. Laying her down on the soft pelt carpet the two brothers kneel beside her slumbering form. “She’s got quite the temper on her aye” Fili remarks “She could be part dwarrowdam, especially with her height and all” The woman only stood around half a head taller than Kili, and he was quite tall for a dwarf. Kili scoffs at him “She’s clearly from the race of man, look at her soft face” he says poking her in the cheek “She’s too smooth to be a dwarrow” Fili laughs at his brother, patting him on the shoulder “Well in that case you might not be a dwarf also” He jests. Kili rolls his eyes, slightly hurt by his brother's words “Real funny Fi” he shoves his shoulder back. The two young princes continue to fool around, chatting about the strange woman in front of them, while in the other room Thorin begins questioning Gandalf the Grey. He crosses his arms glaring up at the tall grey clad wizard “Pray tell me Gandalf, why did that woman recognize you?” The older man stutters out a response “Well, I just felt like this quest could benefit from- someone of her skill” Thorin isn’t convinced or impressed at all “And what are her skills? Cursing like a drunkard or dressing indecently?” He growls. Gandalf huffs in frustration, not being able to tell Thorin the entire truth makes convincing him incredibly difficult. “Thorin, you put your trust in me to guide this company. So trust me now, she will be of great use in time” Thorin sighs in defeat “You said we would only need the burglar” he states “What has changed?” Gandalf looks at him grimly “I’ve had a vision, Thorin, one that will end in great loss without her” Thorin nods at the wizard's cryptic message “You cannot share any more can you?” he asks unsatisfied. The wizards face relaxes “No” he smiled mischievously. Thorin shakes his head disappointed with the conclusion of the meeting before wandering off to find Balin, the king's advisor, to inform him of the change of plans.
My head swims as I begin to regain consciousness “How are you feeling Ms?” I open my eyes to the brunette man hovering over my lying form, his dark hair curtaining around my face. “Rat shit, now get out of my face” I grumble, shoving his head away by the face. The blonde man from before laughs at the sight. Sitting up I clutch at my head, feeling sluggish “What the hell happened?” I mutter. “Well, you were threatening our uncle before Gandalf decided to put you to bed” the blonde one responds “Then Gandalf and Thorin argued and now you’re joining the company” The brunette one continues, smiling enthusiastically. I stare at him confused “What  the fuck are you talking about?” I ask. The two men look at one another before they both turn to me “You’re coming with us on an adventure!” The brunette one exclaims. I shake my head slowly “No” I say gently. “No?” he asks, confused. “No” I nod “I don’t want to join you” I whisper. He huffs in amusement “I’m afraid you don’t get a say in the matter Ms”. I glared at him before standing up and marching out the room towards the door “We’ll see about that mate”, ‘I won’t be controlled by some weird short ass men’ I think stubbornly to myself. Walking into the entrance hall I find a large, intimidating, bald man seated in front of the door smoking a pipe. The man notices me but doesn’t move. His hardened stare makes me uncomfortable. I've sparred with many strong, intimidating individuals, but this man seems like someone I don’t want to challenge. ‘Scary bastard’ I shake my head exasperated, before snatching my fallen bag off the floor and marching back to my room in defeat. Before I can make it to the safety of my room I am ambushed by the one, I assumed, who's named Thorin “Not trying to escape again are you?” He blocks my path. I roll my eyes at him “Only you” I mock. He grasps my arm as I try to slip past him “Do not mock me woman, you are only here by Gandalf's will, you have yet to impress me” My mouth opens in shock and I huff at the audacity “Get your hands off me before I slap dick off you, you pig” I quip. Thorin's eye widens and his grip loosens fractionally, giving me just enough room to snatch my arm back. I glare at him up and down “Don’t ever grab me again” I turn sharply and head back to my room, slamming the door shut loudly. I let out a shaky breath. Despite all the training, and teaching, nothing prepares you for real confrontations, for the feeling of being threatened. I do some steady, controlled breathing, allowing the anxiety to wash away. Tired, I slip my bag off by the door and crawl back into bed, hoping that this is all just a terrible dream and tomorrow I will wake back in my cabin, back in my slightly less shitty life.
Master List
Pt.1 - Pt.2 - Pt.3
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