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#these companies are getting over on people who don’t know any better or care enough
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Hear me out. Chauffeur takes the vees out in one of their sports cars and someone on the road challenges them to a race.
What are the reactions from each of the vees?
Drag Racing
PolyVees x GN!Reader
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TW:Valentino and the mentions of some NSFW
A/N:YES YES- MORE CHAUFFEUR READER
Let me preface this with you know better than to listen to some demons who think they are better than the Vee’s but also..you know every back road and fastest route around Pentagram City. It’s like you have a digital map in your head, also it’s very easy to remember when traffic gets heavy.
Stick with me here cause I know nothing about sports cars or anything of the like and I’m not going into specifics cause I’m too stupid for that shit. But- all three have different tastes in cars, especially personal cars.
Vox likes the new high tech sports cars while he can appreciate the looks of old cars. I feel like he likes Lamborghini’s mostly. He has many of his signature colors, but if he wants more privacy (especially if he gets overwhelmed) I’m thinking he has an Audi.
Valentino Most definitely likes the classics but can appreciate the modern versions. He mostly does have classic cars like the cars made by the Morgan Motor company. It has that old classic look that he absolutely eats up all the time. But he does have a few Ferraris’ all of them having some sort of his signature colors to it. He doesn’t let ANYONE except you drive his cars cause he knows while it’s your job- that you do take care of them and if something comes up they are immediately fixed by the best people.
Velvette is a Mercedes-Benz girlie, she has the least amount of cars out of the three. She can appreciate the look of it and loves how the roof can collapse (if that's the word Idk). She can also appreciate BMW's. She's not a hater (yes she is..shhh).
ANYWAYS BACK TO THE PLOT-
You were driving the Vee’s around one day and a demon drove up next to the car, their vehicle tricked out to well..hell and back. Sadly for you, you had your window rolled down so you were able to hear all the curses and name calling before the taunts started. You looked over to the Overlord next to you, wondering what to do cause this person would not shut the fuck up. 
They all have different reactions from this but either way, they find it so fucking hot that you can easily beat someone’s ass in a race without having to gloat about it. Also the way your eyes lock in on what you're doing and how your jaw locks? If you weren’t kicking someone’s ass in the race all three would probably jump your bones.
If you're with Vox he’ll most likely tell you to ignore them which you do easily unless he’s in a mood. Then he lets you race the idiots trying to one up him, he’s not scared. He has more confidence in you winning than he does in himself. 
Valentino…is a different breed. He will allow you to race against someone and he will gloat about it, but the only rule is it can’t be in one of the Morgan cars cause he will actually fucking kill you if you race in that car, those are his relaxation around Pentagram City cars. The Ferrari's? He couldn’t give a shit about, don’t be afraid to mow people down if they get in the way too. He has his hand on your thigh the whole time as well.
Velvette  does care but if she’s annoyed enough by the person she will look at you and give you the go ahead, she will livestream the whole time too. Just don’t hit anyone or anything cause she will throw a huge fucking fit, that’s her car.
Once you win the race? Oh boy, get out a gloat for a bit cause the others surely will. Even if you didn’t demand money, they will. Most likely Valentino will kill them or destroy their car.
Vox will pull you in and tell you how he didn’t have any doubts about you losing. 
Valentino will more than likely use this as a way to get you to sleep with him or he will try to put moves on you the whole ride back to the tower.
Velvette is gonna be kissing up on your face and leaving lipstick stains all over your face and then going online to tell everyone how you were the best.
A/N: IF YOU WANT MORE PLEASE LET ME KNOW
Tag List: @aboyscriminalrecord, Come get some food bestie-
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dodorimo · 3 days
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WIP Wednesday Saturday
Stripper!Tav x Raphael
Just a piece of something that's been in my drafts since forever
· · ──────  ❊  ────── · ·
People who don’t know any better think her strength lies in the art of seduction, but she believes it’s in the way she can read people at first glance. Whether it was the twitching of a finger or a sharp intake of breath, no sign was small enough to escape her trained eyes.
The man sitting at the front-row table would rather be anywhere else. Glancing at his watch discreetly, eyes glazed over with boredom. Tav has seen plenty of men like this come and go. Men who were pressured into coming to their club by their peers, out of a sense of obligation or just to keep up appearances, there’s no way of knowing for certain.
He’s handsome, in a timeless, elegant way. The kind you see in black-and-white movies. Chestnut-brown hair slicked back, sharp cheekbones and a mouth that promised to curl into the most sinful of smiles. In his late forties or fifties.
Two other men sit at his table, both younger and more enthusiastic, if the way their eyes almost pop out of their sockets as they look at her is anything to go by. She doesn’t spare them a second glance.
Of course, Tav knows she’s being partial. In her experience, older men are more likely to keep their hands to themselves and leave generous tips.
A part of her resents the fact that he isn't looking at her, craves his undivided attention. But then again, her show has just started.
“That girl looks like a good lay,” says one of the men in the front row, loud enough for her to hear even over the blaring music.
“The one with the awful dye job?”
Excuse her…? Her hair color is as natural as it can get, thank you very much.
“Nah, that one is a real blond.”
“I’ll only believe if I see it for myself,” the man says as his eyes run down her body in a way that leaves little doubt as to his meaning.
Fuck her this, fuck her that. Enough of these two jerks. She heard worse and with much more color. If her handsome stranger kept such rude company around him, maybe she isn’t so keen on getting to know him after all.
She often pictures someone while she dances—a prince from a faraway land, a movie star, a stern-looking madam. It gave her performance an extra edge, made it just a little more captivating. This time, however, she doesn’t need to superimpose her imagination on a poor bystander, she locks eyes with her mysterious stranger and gives everything she has.
It doesn't take long for her to lose herself in the carnal energy of the place, in the heavy beat of the music, in the pungent smell of smoke and sweat, until everything around her is a blur. It reminds her why she does this, why she dances.
The music stops and she slides down the pole, body aching and sweaty, a satisfied smile on her face. The men stare at her, lust written in their gazes, but she only cares about one set of eyes. At the front-row table, her handsome stranger is looking straight at her.
Not just looking at her. Devouring her is a better way of putting it, as if she were a fresh-from-the-oven—and entirely too irresistible—canapé being served at his table. She was right earlier: he does look good when he smiles. Although she had underestimated the wolfish nature of it, the way his eyes sparkled with newfound interest.
The moment is short-lived. A small crowd has gathered at the edge of the stage, pulling her from her musings. Her audience expects her to put on a show and she doesn’t intend to disappoint.
Her lacy garters are overflowing with cash by the time she’s done, some falling to the floor where she stands.
A flash of brown hair. Her heart beats faster.
“You were magnificent, my dear. Truly a sight to behold.” Lorroakan, one of her regulars, blocks her view of the crowd. Tav looks past him, but the seats at the front-row table are empty. “You must let me show you my full appreciation later.”
There is little to be said about the man, other than the fact that being around him was an exercise in endurance. Forcing a smile, Tav crawls to him on all fours on the stage. Lorroakan may be an insufferable bastard, but he had money to burn.
The fabric of her jeans shorts grazes the cold floor as she arches her back to be at eye level with him. Her outfit today is that of a naughty country girl, with a sleeveless white shirt wrapped around her midriff and stockings that went up to her knees. A little too plain for her tastes, but she knows better than to say no to Shadowheart (the flush that took over the woman’s face when she put on the outfit more than made up for her troubles, though).
“I’ll take your appreciation in the form of your tips.” Holding the ginger’s gaze, she splays her palms over her breasts and squeezes them together.
It is almost comical, the way he automatically reaches into his pockets and places the money in her cleavage, like a toy that was put to work, his eyes wide open and mouth ajar.
What happens next is a little more unclear. Lorroakan goes back to his seat—or is pushed, he doesn’t seem to have noticed either way—and someone else takes his spot.
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luce-speaks · 21 hours
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kliff and the friends
last minute submission for day two of @fe-aspec-week 2024!! this one is a little thrown together because i had an idea at the last minute but! here goes!!
Kliff has never been particularly fond of other people.
He used to think he just got unlucky, stuck in a tiny village where no one understood the concept of personal space. He dreamed of the day he’d escape them, get out, go anywhere but here, and meet people who were actually decent.
Then he started going to school in the next town over, and with each new person he met, that dream died in front of him. Each and every one of them—over-familiar like Gray, clumsy like Tobin, naive like Alm, or disgustingly romantic like Faye. He hated it. He came back to Ram Village with a disappointed letter from his teacher and a new will to tolerate these idiots so he could safely ignore the rest. He might not fit in, but at least they know him well enough to leave him alone while he’s reading.
The war comes on suddenly, like a storm rolling in overnight, and things change. Kliff learns what fire spells can do to a human being, and Gray stops joking about hitting Tobin with his sword, and Faye picks up a lance for the first time, insisting she’ll do whatever it takes to protect her friends. Tolerable acquaintances become battle-allies, people you can trust to have your back. People who could die beside you, any day. There’s no room out here for petty bickering, but sometimes it also feels like there’s no room to get attached. When the war is over, Kliff thinks, they’ll go their separate ways. He probably won’t even miss them.
Tobin flags him down at camp one day. “Hey, Kliff!”
He rolls his eyes. “Tobin. I thought you knew not to interrupt me while I’m studying.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. But I have questions about magic! That counts as study time, right?”
Now Kliff is intrigued, though he refuses to give Tobin the satisfaction. “Since when do you care about magic? I thought it was too complicated for you.”
Tobin settles beside him, keeping a safe distance, but not bothering to ask whether he minds the company. “Well, I don’t really get it. But I want to learn. You know—for the war.”
He sighs. “I don’t know what Alm or Gray did this time, but you’re better with a bow than you’re ever going to be with magic. Focus on getting better at that.”
“Healing magic,” Tobin corrects. “I want to learn healing.”
“What? Why?”
“C’mon, seriously? I’m worried about you guys! I want us to go back to Ram when this is all over—all of us, together. Even if we’re not all planning to stay.”
“…All right, then. I can try to teach you.” Kliff grins. “Though I wouldn’t count on your ability to learn it.”
Faye catches him off guard in the middle of an overcrowded mess hall. She’s saying something, but he can’t understand her over the din of too many hungry soldiers. Eventually, she gives up and beckons to the door.
Kliff follows her, plate in hand, out to the cool night air. “What was that for?”
She shrugs. “You looked like you wanted to go outside.”
“I—” He pauses. Mess hall never used to bother him more than any other time around camp, but now that they’ve been getting more recruits, it has been getting louder and louder. He’s never liked loud noises, either. “I guess I did.”
Faye walks a little farther away from the tent, towards the woods. He follows her, and they settle together at the forest’s edge—still in earshot of the camp, but safely away from the clamor of the mess hall.
“I miss Ram,” Faye says quietly, after they’ve been eating for a bit. “Seeing this many people in one place reminds me how far we are from home.”
Kliff snorts. “It just reminds me of school. They always crammed too many people into the common areas for lunch.”
“So you didn’t like leaving then, either?”
“I liked going to school,” he answers. “I didn’t like the people there.”
“What kind of people do you like?”
He thinks on this. “The quiet kind.”
Faye smiles and nods. They eat the rest of their meal in silence.
Gray looks out for him during fights.
At first he’s convinced Gray is just showing off, jumping in dramatically and kicking down a mage in mid-chant before they can fire another spell at Kliff. But then it happens a second time, and a third time, and Kliff is more than certain that it’s intentional.
“You don’t have to do that, you know,” Kliff says, the next time Gray takes a blow for him.
“Do what?” Gray asks. “Look super cool while I’m saving the day?”
Kliff regrets that Gray is too focused on the battle to see him roll his eyes. “Protect me. I can look out for myself.”
“Oh, that? I’m just practicing for next time one of the girls needs saving.” Gray pauses to skewer another incoming mage. “Gotta keep my skills sharp and all that!”
“Gray, I’m serious. Can you stop joking around?” Kliff fires off another spell, stopping an approaching cavalier in their tracks. Now there are no more distractions—Gray will have to talk to him.
Gray turns to face him. “Look, I know you can take it, okay? But that’s not your job. If you’re up in the front lines taking hits, you won’t have the energy to cast your spells. So you do your job, and I’ll do mine, yeah?”
He sighs. “Fine.”
“Great! Now how about a ‘thank you’ for saving your ass?”
“In your dreams.”
Alm brings him a book from town.
“Here,” he says, unloading it off a pile of rations and weapons. “They had this on sale at one of the booths. I thought you might get some use out of it.”
Kliff inspects it. It’s a neatly-bound red tome, with gold embossing on the front. It looks well-used, but it’s holding together nevertheless. He flips it open, skimming the table of contents, and frowns.
“I hate to break it to you, but this is a book on magical theory. It’s not going to teach me anything I don’t already know about battle casting.”
Alm looks a little offended. “I know,” he says. “I just figured you would like it. You liked learning about magic at school, didn’t you?”
“I did, but—” He frowns again, turning the book over anxiously in his hands. “We’re in the middle of a war. Did you spend army funds on this?”
“Don’t worry, I spent my own money on it. No funds wasted.”
“But—” Kliff stammers. “Why? What’s the point? What do you get out of this?”
Alm sighs. “It’s just a gift. We may be at war, but we’re still people. I want you guys to be happy—at least, when we’re not having to kill people.”
“Oh,” Kliff says. “Uh. Thanks.”
Alm smiles, bright as ever. “Any time.”
The war continues, and Kliff keeps dreaming about the places he’ll go once he’s free to travel as he pleases. He’s not sure what kind of people he’ll meet out there, but—he thinks—if they’re anything like the ones he met in Ram Village, he hasn’t got anything to worry about. Other people may be unpleasant—clumsy, naive, romantic, and over-familiar—but they’re still worth knowing, every once in a while.
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tariah23 · 3 months
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I knew there was gonna be someone jumping on that CR post and going on about how “I’ve done the math and have concluded that $100 isn’t even that bad for an annual service fee-“
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nightprompts · 1 year
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&. 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬.
( this is basically just a very self indulgent list of various fluff, angst, and suggestive themed dialogue sentence starters. )
❛ i could keep you safe. they’re all afraid of me. ❜
❛ i’m trying to fix your hair, so hold still. ❜
❛ your heart is beating so fast right now. ❜
❛ promise me you’ll still be here when i wake up. ❜
❛ you’re not as bad as everyone says you are. ❜
❛ i thought you’d like some company. ❜ 
❛ clean yourself up. you're getting blood all over the place. ❜
❛ here, give this a try and tell me what you think. ❜
❛ you can kiss me, you know. ❜
❛ come back to bed. ❜
❛ you look good like this. ❜
❛ working together again, it’s just like old times. ❜
❛ how is it you always know what i need, huh? ❜
❛ you’re lucky you got away with only a scratch. ❜ 
❛ i can’t imagine losing someone like that. i’m sorry. ❜
❛ you know you can always talk to me. ❜
❛ the only one who gets to kill you, is me. ❜
❛ so, what do i owe this pleasure? ❜
❛ ah, so you aren’t heartless after all. ❜
❛ may i have this dance? ❜ 
❛ it’s okay, you can touch me. i won't break. ❜
❛ enemies make the best lovers, you know. ❜
❛ hold still. this might sting a little. ❜
❛ we can't keep doing this. ❜ 
❛ you look like you've got something to say. ❜
❛ just relax and let me take care of you. ❜
❛ thought you’d be lighter without all that blood. ❜
❛ i had it under control. you didn’t need to do that. ❜
❛ everything looks so beautiful from up here. ❜
❛ you treat all your ladies like this? ❜
❛ well? how do i look? ❜
❛ can’t sleep? ❜
❛ do you mind if i smoke? ❜
❛ i’m scared of ending up alone. ❜
❛ i don’t think i’ve ever seen you smile. ❜
❛ how long has it been since you've slept? ❜
❛ you are losing my interest, and that’s very dangerous. ❜
❛ i’d suffer hell if you’d tell me what you’d do to me tonight. ❜
❛ you look really pretty right now. ❜
❛ i’ve never cared for anyone the way i care for you. ❜
❛ i’m not wearing any underwear. thought you’d like to know. ❜
❛ just a few more stitches and you’ll be as good as new. ❜
❛ i’d say we make a pretty good team. ❜
❛ i want you to forget this ever happened. ❜
❛ i'm here for business — not pleasure. ❜
❛ if i didn't know any better, i'd say you were jealous. ❜
❛ you'd look better down on your knees. ❜
❛ fine, keep acting like you hate me. ❜
❛ kiss me again. ❜
❛ are you asking me out on a date? ❜
❛ just sit there and look pretty and let me handle this. ❜
❛ you okay? caught you staring off into space again. ❜
❛ well, i do feel better now that you're here. ❜
❛ i'm not drunk enough for this. ❜ 
❛ why is it whenever we see each other, you’re covered in blood? ❜
❛ i was wrong about you. ❜ 
❛ the first time i met you, i had no idea you'd mean this much. ❜
❛ you gonna be a good girl / boy for me? ❜
❛ i’m not afraid of you. ❜
❛ books mean more to me than people anyway. ❜
❛ i just wanted to say thank you for protecting me. ❜
❛ how about a kiss goodnight? ❜
❛ i don’t have time for distractions right now. ❜
❛ you shouldn’t be out here by yourself. ❜ 
❛ if i have to think about one more thing today, my head will explode. ❜
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thatanimeramenchick · 2 months
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Yandere Vox x Secretary Reader Part One
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No one asked for this, but whatever. Bite me. I’ll get to the asks, I swear
3,516 words
Part Two - Part Three
–-
The last thing you wanted was to draw attention to yourself. In a place like hell, where the worst of society sunk together and only somehow seemed to get worse, it was a good idea to not catch other people’s eyes. If their eyes were on you, it was almost never for a good reason.
So when you decided to start working, it made sense you would do something quiet and in the background like data filing for a large media company. While there were many more unsavory jobs that paid more, you wanted to avoid the obvious and dangerous crime life of hell as much as possible in your daily life. You had had enough of being unwillingly tied up in that kind of stuff when you were alive. You might as well spend your eternity in some type of peace, or at least as much as someone in hell can get.
So, you made sure you were presentable as you walked into Voxtekk on your first day to work, dressed simple business attire and keeping a quiet demeanor.
“There you are!” said who you presumed was your new boss, a short man with glasses and a blue hair dye, “Was wondering if you were going to show up!”
“Sorry,” you said, “The traffic was bad.”
“Well, you better get used to leaving early,” he said, “Traffic is always a bitch in this part of Pentagram City.”
He continued to speak as he led you to the elevator.
“So, I’ve been told you have a lot of experience with this sort of thing on earth,” he said.
“Yes, I did library work while I was alive,” you said.
And some smuggling. Especially with weapons.
You didn’t think it would be necessary to tell him that though. The job had come in handy though by giving you a knack for remembering where things were.
“Good, good,” he said, “I expect you’ll be able to figure out how to do this on your own then.”
He led you to a room that was filled with file drawers as well as a large computer off to the side.
“There’s thousands, if not millions, of files in here, both physically and digitally. It’ll be your responsibility to make sure that everything new brought in gets put in its proper place, as well as that anything that is requested can be easily found,” he said, “As the biggest media company in hell, it’s important that we know at all times where every piece of information or media can be located.”
It was overwhelming, like the world’s largest and most complicated library. It made your head spin a little looking at it all, but you always liked a challenge.
“You think you can handle it?” he asked.
You nod with some confidence, though you don’t quite feel it. This was going to take some getting used to.
“I hope for both our sakes you’re right,” he said, “Last filer I hired couldn’t tell left from right and Vox fried me to a crisp. Took me a good week before I was able to regenerate properly.”
Crap, that sounded bad. Note to self, don’t let that happen to you.
“I think I’ll be all right,” you said.
---
It was a bit overwhelming the first few weeks. You were competent enough to keep things in order though. Your experience was paying off, and you weren’t hearing any complaints or news about any assistants getting fried, so you supposed you were doing your job well enough.
Within two months of starting your job, you finally met the rumored big man himself. He had come in one day, visibly in a bad mood as he walked over to your desk, a man trailing behind him.
“I don’t know why I even pay you morons,” he said, “I have to hear important information secondhand from fucking Valentino because you can’t be bothered to keep up with what’s happening in hell.”
“Look, sir, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to not tell you,” he said, “I just didn’t think you’d care.”
Vox had stormed over to your desk.
“So you KNEW and thought it would be a good idea to just not tell me at all?” he said.
“T-that’s not it! I just-”
Vox held up a hand to interrupt him before turning to you.
“I want the file we have in here on Alastor,” he said, a static buzz of irritation on the last word, “Now.”
“Of course, sir,” you said.
You hurried over to the file cabinet and quickly located it.
“See, not everyone around here is as useless as you are,” Vox said to his other employee.
You saw the hapless employee mutter something under his breath out of the corner of your eye, and before you knew it a chain had appeared and Vox yanked him closer.
“What was that?” he said
“N-nothing, sir!” said the now visibly sweating employee.
A shock went through the poor guy before Vox released him.
“Useless,” he said, “You know what? I think you need some time learning exactly who is in charge around here.”
Vox pointed a clawed finger at you.
“You,” he said, “It’s your lucky day, kid. You wanna promotion?”
“Um… yes?” you said.
“Great. Samuel, have fun in janitorial work for the next decade,” he said, “You’re being replaced. What’s your name?”
“F/N,” you said.
“Hope you have customer service experience as well as filing,” he said, “You’re moving up to my office. Need someone with a functioning brain to run the front desk. Pack up!”
You hesitated for a minute before grabbing the stuff under your desk. You figured the last thing you wanted to do was piss this guy off more than he already looked.
---
Despite him being in such a bad mood that first day, you soon found that most of the time Vox was relatively calm, at least compared to what you heard about the other employers in this building. While he at times could get pretty irritated with things, especially if a certain never-to-be-named demon was brought up by an idiot intern, he rarely took it out on you. He usually took the daily bothers of running the company in stride.
Besides that, running a front desk of an office wasn’t too different than running the front desk at the library. You didn’t have to do near as much organizing in terms of files, but you still did spend a lot of time making sure that everything in Vox’s life was organized from his meetings to when he had lunch.
He didn’t talk much with you outside of work related stuff, which is why you were so surprised when you found out what he was doing one day.
It was a nice enough morning, at least as much as a nice morning can be in hell. You took a sip of your coffee briefly as you stretched and looked out your office window. While you missed the blue sky of earth, the red sky of hell had its own sort of charm you supposed. You glanced down, looking at the people walking back and forth, small as ants. Running around willy nilly. Someone was moving into the building that afternoon, a common occurrence here, as you had heard talk that Valentino liked to keep his employees in close quarters. Seems like they had a similar taste in furniture to your own. Almost frighteningly so.
Except… wait. Was that your sofa? And your dresser? Your bookshelves? You lowered your coffee to the windowsill as you squinted down at your entire catalog of furniture being moved into the building. Something wasn’t right.
You knocked on your boss’s door and entered in a bit of a rush as you heard him say to come in.
“Vox, what on earth is going on?” you asked, trying not to sound panicked.
“F/N, that could be ten different things. I need you to be more specific,” he asked, his tone nonchalant as he didn’t even look up from his phone.
“I just saw what I’m pretty sure was all my belongings being moved into the building,” you said.
“Oh yes, that. Well, I had wanted to surprise you, but I guess it’s too late for that,” he said, somewhat absently, “I hate that you have to take such a long commute to the other side of town. And I know all the apartments there are so run down, I figured I’d just move you into the studio like a lot of our other valued staff.”
What? While it was true your apartment was kind of rinky dinky, it was yours. And you liked the privacy and soft solitude it offered after work. Besides, you didn’t like the idea of your boss just moving you willy nilly without your permission. Still, you didn’t want to show him you were upset.
“Vox, you don’t have to do this,” you said, “I’m ok with where I’m at. I don’t want to trouble you.”
“It’s no trouble at all. Think of it as a courtesy as my secretary,” he said.
You could feel your entire face tighten as you got more frustrated. Some of it was probably starting to show, despite your best efforts.
“I never asked for this though,” you said, trying to tread carefully, “and I like my old apartment. I… I don’t really want this...”
“But you do want this,” he said, finally looking up at you, “You want to be in a nicer apartment, closer to work, safer, don’t you? You always want to be here.”
That… You supposed that was true. Something about his tone soothed you, sent a pleasant lull through your skull and made your body relax as he looked in your eyes. Your protests now seemed a bit foolish and childish. In all honesty, you supposed it just made sense that you move in to the studio. Everything you needed was here, truly, why would you want to live away from here? You did want a nicer apartment without the stressful commute.
“O-ok,” you said, a small uncomfortable feeling of doubt still in your stomach, “Yeah. That’s true. I do want to be here more… closer to the office...”
He smiled at that and walked over to you. He placed an arm around you, guiding you back to your own office.
“Of course you do! And besides I already had them move everything here, so why don’t you just go back to work, and they’ll have finished moving everything in by the time your shift is done,” Vox said, “I guarantee once you’ve had time to think it through you’ll be glad we did it.”
“If you say so,” you said.
As he walked you back to your desk, he continued his calming chatter.
“That’s a good girl. You and I both have a lot of work today, anyway, so I think we can agree that you should just focus on that for now,” he said as he nudged over to your desk.
You sat down and turned to the planner on your desk as you heard your boss walk into his personal office and closed the door. You just stare blankly for a good minute, feeling a little light, like you were on Zoloft before shaking your head back and forth. Might as well just go back to work. You could think more about this later.
---
It had been happening so slowly. One day, week, month at a time, Vox was implementing himself into your life inch by inch, despite the fact that the two of you weren’t bound on paper. He had moved you into the building, where you knew that you were almost constantly on camera. He kept you so loaded down with work you barely had a social life anymore, with no time to hang out with friends or date. The pay was ok, you supposed, but it felt minuscule compared to the amount of work he was expecting you to do on a daily basis.
And then there was the… weirder things that had been happening. Whenever you tried to talk to him, he had a way of getting you to forget about whatever it was you were upset about, at least for a little while. But it would always come back eventually, and as you thought about it more, it irritating you that he was dismissing your concerns.
You hadn’t really noticed it until he had gone on vacation for a week with the other Vees. You had been quite busy with work, but without him there to calm you down whenever your “concerns” came up, you realized that maybe you had let your priorities get a little askew. You needed a career change.
So, perhaps against your better judgment, a few days after he had returned, you had left a two weeks notice on his desk before he came in. It only took about fifteen minutes after he came in for him to summon you to his office.
“F/N? What is this?” he asked, holding out the letter.
“It’s my resignation,” you said, trying to sound steady and confident.
“I’m sorry… your what?” he said
“I-I regret to inform you that I will be moving out and relocating to the Doomsday Sector in two weeks,” you said, “I appreciate all that you’ve done here for me as I worked here, but I am making a career change.”
He looked baffled for a second, like he couldn’t believe what you were saying before chuckling a little.
“No, you’re not,” he said, “You don’t want to leave he-”
“Stop!” you yelled out with more force than you intended.
As soon as he had started speaking that familiar fuzzy feeling had entered your mind, and you had closed your eyes, shaking your head. You didn’t want him talking you out of this.
“I-I’m sorry,” you said, as you reopened your eyes, but didn’t really look at him, “But I don’t want to talk about this.”
It was awkwardly silent for a minute.
“Is it a pay thing?” he finally asked, “Because that can be adjusted. You do good work. I certainly wouldn’t mind paying you more.”
“It’s not a pay thing,” you said, “It’s not anything. I-I don’t want to talk about this, so I’m going to go-”
“You’re not leaving!” he said, slamming his fist on his desk.
You jumped, a little surprised at his reaction. While you knew he wouldn’t be thrilled, you hadn’t expected him to be so volatile. He was always so calm and collected that this kind of reaction to something so minuscule confused you.
“Vox, I know you like my work, but I think you’re overreacting a little bit,” you said.
“Overreacting?” he said, looking pissed, “Overreacting?!”
He grasped at the air, a look of surprise entering his face when no chain appeared. You look at him bewildered. Had he really just tried to…?
“Vox, we don’t have a contract?” you said, “Did you forget that?”
Had he really gotten so comfy with you that he thought that you were another one of his little pets? To hell with the two week notice, you were going today.
“I think I should go back to work,” you said.
He didn’t say anything as you went back to your desk. You finished filing information extra fast that day, doing a bit of a sloppy job. As soon as it was noon, you left for what appeared to be a lunch break, but you had decided was actually going to be your escape.
This situation was getting uncomfortable. You hurried to your room and haphazardly threw clothes and necessities into your suitcase. Anything you left behind on accident you would just have to replace. On a final note, you shoved your wallet into your back pocket and walked over to the door.
Except it didn’t open. The nob didn’t even turn when you yanked on it. You tried it a few times, to no avail.
“Dammit,” you murmured under your breath, and you pounded your fist on the door.
You were about ready to start kicking it when you heard a burst of static behind you. You turned to see your boss coming in through the camera system. While it had always been an eerie feature to your arrangements, it was a million more times so to see Vox using it to his full advantage.
“What the hell is going on?” you asked.
“I should be the one asking that,” he said, “Just where do you think you’re going?”
“None of your damn business!” you said, “I don’t know what security you have on this door, but you better take it off now or-”
“Or?” he asked.
Now it was your turn to look tense as he gave you a self-satisfied smirk. You could feel your face flushing in a quiet rage as he spoke. Though you were hiding them behind your back, you could feel your fists clenching, as well as the shape of you mouth hardening.
“Vox, you are being ridiculous! We don’t even have a contract! I’m not bound to you, so you can’t keep me here,” you said.
He cocked his head at you, raising an eyebrow, “Oh really now?”
Something about the nonchalance in his tone only pissed you off more.
“Yes, really!” you yelled, “I’m not staying here. I’m leaving whether you want me to or not.”
“And just how do you expect to do that?” asked Vox, “Jump out the window? I mean you could splatter yourself on the ground, but it’d be a bit rude considering I’ll have to send some unlucky interns to scrape you off the pavement and put you back in your room until you regenerate.”
You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath in and clenching and unclenching your hands with an unnecessary amount of force. You tried to calm your voice down.
“Vox, I understand that you like the work I do for you, but you’re being ridiculous,” you said.
“You think this about work?” he said, “F/N, don’t act stupid. I can get a new secretary anytime I want, ten secretaries. You and I both know that’s not what this is about.”
You looked at him confused. It wasn’t?
“For someone who is so smart with data, you are being so unbelievably slow right now.”
He advanced on you, causing you to shrink against the frame of the door as he leaned over you. He pushed you against the wall and gripped your chin in his hand, forcing you to look him in the eye. It all happened in a flash, too fast to register, and before you could realize it, he was pulling you into a rough kiss.
It wasn’t what you had expected, though it wasn’t as if you had thought a lot about what kissing your boss would feel like. On the rare occasions when you had wondered about it, you had assumed kissing Vox would be like kissing the screen of a laptop. Apparently though, he had a literal working mouth as you could clearly tell from the sensation of his tongue and even teeth connecting with your own. Your chin ached in his firm grip, which could have been more tender if it didn’t feel like he was keeping you from turning your face away. You tried to do so, but he didn’t even seem to notice it, he was so preoccupied.
He held you like this for a good two or three minutes, his saliva coating your mouth. Though it was barely there, you could feel a slight buzz to it, as if some of his electricity was in his fluids. He finally released you though, some of his spit getting on your lips as he removed himself. A sigh filled the air as your lips parted.
“Even better than I thought it would be,” he murmured
He shifted a bit and was leaning in for another kiss when you kicked him in the shins.
“Ow!” he said, releasing you and giving you time to dart away.
You had moved in a burst to the other side of the room, glaring at him with what you hoped was resentment. There was also something else though. A feeling of deep rooted anxiety and fear was stirring in full force, despite the fact that over the past few months you had been pushing it down as much as possible. You hoped he couldn’t see the weakness in you.
Whether he did or not though, you could tell he was visibly pissed for a minute. He finally got his features under control, but as he spoke his tone held all of the avarice that had left his face.
“Whatever,” he said, “Contract or not, you’re still mine, and you’re not going anywhere until you accept that. Throw a tantrum if you want to, but you’re stuck here.”
You watched as he went back into the camera system as easily as he had come. You curled up on the floor, burying your face in your arms.
770 notes · View notes
a-dauntless-daffodil · 2 months
Note
Lute sees Vaggie's wings have grown back and tries take them again. She grabs them to pull them off, but her hands burn right through her gloves. Sp, Lute tries to cut them off with her sword, but the blade shatters the second it hits the feathers. That's the power of love, bitch!
this could be either so dramatic or so fucking funny so i'd love to imagine it being Both
(fuck this turned out looooooong XD)
Emily: "Good news!”
Charlie: "YAY!"
Vaggie: "How good can it be, if we had to come all the way to stupid heaven to hear it?
Charlie: "Vaggie, c'mon- We could REALLY use some good news!"
Emily: "Then you'll love this. I looked into it and, Vaggie, you being abandoned in hell was wrong, not to mention Adam never cleared it with anyone else anyway- so you can come back here to heaven! Isn't that great!"
Charlie: "Oh... thanks Emily, that's..."
Vaggie: "Not happening."
Charlie: "Maybe she could have some time to think about-"
Lute: "No.”
Vaggie: "No."
Lute: “An angel's place is in heaven. Hell is a prison for sinners, demons, and the fallen who reject the very order of creation. If you choose to stay down there, then what does that make you?"
Vaggie: "It's making me fucking happy, for one thing."
Charlie: (whispers) "... a happy day in hell?"
Vaggie: (whispering back) "Every single one."
Charlie: (BEAMS)
Lute: "Then you've made your choice. You're not an angel. You’re not one of us. You're a traitor."
Vaggie: "And it's been better company than I had up here."
Lute: "Think so?” (grins) “Sera, respectfully, hell is rebelling-"
Charlie: "We were PROTECTING ourselves!"
Lute: "-they killed Adam and one of their people is up here acting like he doesn’t still sympathize with murderers and filthy sinners. We can’t risk anyone else getting past heaven’s gates.”
Vaggie: “Like I’d ever want to!”
Lute: “So you wouldn’t lead the charge if your demon bitch said the word and pointed at us?”
Emily: “Lute!”
Charlie: “Vaggie wouldn’t-”
Vaggie: “Charlie never would! That’s what makes her different from assholes like YOU.”
Lute: “You think everyone’s as weak as you are, don’t you? She’s a hellborn princess. She just called violently resisting a sanctioned extermination ‘self defense.’”
Charlie: “YOU WERE KILLING PEOPLE!”
Lute: “Sinners are not people. They had their chance and burned it. And they’re not the only ones.”
Emily: “But they can be redeemed! We’ve seen it happen!”
Lute: “Once.”
Emily: “It doesn’t matter that it was only ‘once’- it matters that it happened and we still don’t understand why. We have a duty to the people of heaven, but if sinners can find their way here then that duty includes them too! And the exterminations were just wrong from the start!”
Lute: “Careful Emily, you’re starting to sound like a traitor too.”
Emily: “If the other choice is sounding like YOU, then-”
Sera: “Enough! Both of you! Emily is not the one on trial here, Lute.”
Lute: “Then listen to the ones that ARE! Sera, listen to them, listen to HER- she’s made her choice. She’s fallen even more than Lucifer Morningstar did-”
Charlie: “Don’t you DARE bring my dad into this!”
Lute: “-and there should be a PRICE for that. We need to take precautions.”
Emily: “Precautions? What does that even mean? She’s locked in hell with everyone else, like Lucifer is, what more can you even do to her?”
Lute: “Same thing I did before. Only this time.” (draws sword) “I know how to make it stick.”
Charlie: “What?”
Vaggie: “….you… bitch.”
Lute: "Traitor's don't need an angel's wings, do they? Traitors don't deserve them."
Charlie: "Well she has them again now anyway so CLEARLY having angel wings doesn’t mean what you think it does!”
Lute: “It means I didn’t use heavenly steel the first time.”
Emily: “You-”
Charlie: “Don’t. Come any closer.”
Emily: “Lute stop! Sera stop her! This isn’t helping anyone!”                        
Sera: “I have only one question.”
Lute: “Ask and get it over with, we all know what the answer is already.”
Sera: “Hush.”
Sera: “Vaggie. Do you reject our offer of a pardon, and the orders of and service to heaven, in favor of remaining hell?”
Vaggie: “…I do.”
Sera: "Understanding that no other angel has ever done so before?”
Vaggie: “They would’ve, if they’d met Charlie.”
Sera: “Then you are guilty of treason.”
Vaggie: “…”
Sera: “Lute. Make it quick.”
Lute: (grinning) “As the seraphim commands.”
Emily: “Wait-”
Charlie: “BACK. OFF.”
Sera: “You are not in hell, miss Morningstar, this is not your domain and you have no power to draw on here. I will honor our former treaty not to spill hell’s royal blood but do NOT test my patience with it. Emily, restrain her.”
Charlie: “NO-”
Emily: “Sera you can’t! This is-!”
Sera: “Fine. Exorcists, hold the hell princess. And Emily, if you cannot obey a command or bear witness to my rulings then leave before I remove you myself.”
Emily: “I… you…”
Lute: “Kneel. Traitor.”
Charlie: “TOUCH HER AND I’LL MOTHERFUCKING KILL YOU”
Vaggie: “Charlie don’t struggle don’t fight them- get those fucking spears out of her face- Emily!”
Emily: “…what…?”
Lute: “I said. KNEEL.”
Charlie: “VAGGIE!”
Vaggie: “Please! Don’t let- AGH- don’t let them hurt her!”
Emily: “I won’t… I.” (grabs Charlie and holds on tight) “I- I have her. Spears down. I, have her restrained.”
Charlie: "FUCK YOU LET GO! LET GO-"
Sera: (relieved) “Thank you.”
Lute: "Let's make you look the part first shall we? Trim this hair out of the way?"
Vaggie: "You're pathetic."
Lute: "I'm not the one chained up and crying on my knees."
Charlie: "PLEASE I can make a deal I can make a new agreement with heaven- Whatever you want! What do you WANT from us!?"
Lute: "I want her to hold still. If she flinches, I might nick that left over eye of hers."
Vaggie: "Fuck. You- Ah!"
Lute: "Whoops. Hope that won't scar."
Sera: "Lute I said to make it quick-"
Lute: "We want to it be clean too don't we. I'm just cut cutting off some loose ends- wouldn't want to miss her wings and MANGLE this, would I."
Emily: “Charlie-”
Charlie: “YOU!”
Lute: "There. Now you look just as pathetic as you did three years ago."
Emily: “Charlie just close your eyes, she’ll be okay-”
Lute: “No she won’t.”
Charlie: “VAGGIE-”
(Slash)
(THUNDR CRACK)
(shatter)
Lute: “AARGH!”
Sera: “…….” (horrified)
Lute: “My hand! My sword-” (rounds on Charlie) “Demon BITCH! WHAT DID YOU DO!?”
Charlie: “Vaggie? Are you..?”
Vaggie: “….fine. I’m. I don’t think it’ll even bruise?”
Emily: (awed) “Your wings broke her sword. They shattered heavenly steel-”
Lute: “DEMON MAGIC!”
Emily: “A miracle.” (releases Charlie)
Charlie: "Vaggie-" (snaps the chains off vaggie and pulls her close)
Sera: “Traitor. How did you regain those wings.”
Vaggie: (huddled in Charlie’s fierce hug) “C- someone told me I had to fight with love, and I thought about Charlie, and they just…”
Lute: “SEE!? They were made in HELL they’re as profane as the love that spawned them-”
Emily: “Then they’re not under heaven’s jurisdiction to take away, are they? They belong to Vaggie. Not to us.”
Lute: “Belong to- she doesn’t DESERVE-”
Emily: “And you don’t deserve to cut them off her apparently.”
Lute: “I-”
Sera: “Lute. QUIET.”
Lute: (seething and bleeding from sword shrapnel) “…”
Sera: “You, fallen. If I bent my power on you, I could very likely burn those wings from existence.”
Charlie: “If you want to start a war with hell that’s a VERY good way of doing it. Sera.”
Sera: "...."
Sera: “…you will no longer be allowed past the gates of heaven. You are here on and forever more bound to the regions of hell, regardless of your wings-”
Vaggie: “Fine by f-fucking me.”
Sera: “-and in time you will lose all your divinity. You will bleed a demon’s blood one day.”
Vaggie: “Good.”
Lute: “If you live that long.”
Charlie: (Unholy SNARL)
Emily: (getting between them) “Can I send them home now? Or are we going to do something else to shame all of heaven in front of our guests?”
Vaggie: (sighing) “I’d love to be home right now…”
Charlie: “We’ll be there in a second.” (hugs her tighter) “I promise.” (kiss her hair) “Want to stretch your wings?”
Vaggie: “…yeah.”
Sera: “No, Emily. I will banish them.”
Charlie: “Okay.” (suddenly glaring) “Ha ha thank you Sera but don’t bother. It’s straight down from here and the prison wards don’t stop anyone from coming IN do they?”
Emily: “Are you sure your wings are okay for flying with, Vaggie?”
Vaggie: “That’s what I wanna find out.”
Charlie: “We’ll be fine. And we won’t be coming back.”
Emily: “I’m sorry.”
Lute: “Like you’d have the chance.”
Sera: “Go. Heaven is no place for either of you.”
Charlie: “Wow really I hadn’t noticed! I mean no one in HELL ever tried mutilating my girlfriend in front of me, but whatever I guess!” (muttering) “Sadistic homophobic pricks.”
Vaggie: “Told you.”
Charlie: “You did. You did tell me. I’m sorry I didn’t-”
Vaggie: “I love that you didn’t listen.”
Charlie: “…okay.” (deep breath) “Okay.”
Vaggie: “Besides, there’s Sir Pentious up here now.”
Charlie: “True. They don’t deserve him.”
Vaggie: “And Emily.”
Charlie: “Hm.” (burns a hole in the clouds beneath them) “Ready to fuck off together for all eternity?”
Vaggie: (weak chuckle) “Yeah, sweetie. Let’s go home.”
- they go home-
Sera: “Emily.”
Emily: "..."
Sera: “I hope you will think hard on what you’ve done and very nearly did today. Please.” (touches Emily’s shoulder) “For your own sake. Please.” (leaves)
Emily: “…she’s never going to forgive me, is she.”
Lute: “Oh shut UP. Sera will forgive you for ANYTHING.”
Emily: “I meant Charlie.”
Lute: (disgusted noise) (throws her broken sword down after them) (stalks off)
Emily: (sits down on the edge of the clouds) (finds one of Vaggie’s loose feathers floating by) (picks it up and twirls it sadly as she stares down at the distant warm glow of hell)
-down in hell-
Angel Dust: "Unholy fuck, Vaggie Tales, what the hell happened to your hair?"
Charlie: "Lute."
Vaggie: "Heaven."
Angel Dust: "Huh. Shit that's a bad enough cut to make a guy rethink the whole redeemin' himself stuff to get up there, y'know?"
Charlie: "I know. Trust me Angel Dust- NOW, I know."
321 notes · View notes
valeriianz · 4 months
Text
Dream is trying to be good. He is out of his house, for starters, attempting to mingle among the crowds. He figures this effort alone is worth at least 10 points on the socialization scale.
He may be wearing black on black as usual, but at least this is his nice pea coat, and his jeans don’t have any rips in them. His hair is even washed (though he hadn’t bothered with a combing, minus 3 points).
It’s New Year’s Eve, he’s standing at one of the few scattered tables around the large space. The bar’s ceiling and walls are lit up in a colorful agglomeration of Christmas lights and twinkling decor, so much that the people around him appear to have pink or blue or orange skin, otherwise the place is dark.
Dream drums his fingers on the tall table’s surface, scanning the crowd and trying not to look too uncomfortable at the DJ’s choice in thumping bass and current rap trends blanketing the ocean of conversation happening all around him.
“Hey, how are you?”
Dream watches as a man walks around him to stand across the table, setting a drink down and smiling in a lazy, drunk way.
Dream just stares.
“Sorry, I saw you standing alone and thought you might want some company.”
The man has to lean forward and yell to be heard over the music and people. Dream is responsive enough to at least lean in as well to catch the stranger’s words.
“I’m fine, thank you.” Dream barely has to raise his voice, thanks to his natural baritone. He’s thankful for that; he hates shouting and to do so just to commit to a conversation would be tribulation.
The man doesn’t seem to catch Dream’s response though, or doesn’t care to. He takes a sip of his drink and tries again, his fingers curling around the pint.
“Can I get you a drink?”
Dream seizes the opportunity to politely turn this man away from him.
“No, thank you. My boyfriend is getting my drink.”
The man’s brows pinch together.
“Where is your boyfriend?”
He says it like it’s a joke. Like he’s caught Dream red-handed. Dream sighs and turns to look at the crowded bar.
“He’s right…” Dream’s eyes desperately scan the scene of chaos at the bar, hoping to find Hob’s familiar head of dark brown hair, his mischievous caramel brown eyes, or even the bomber jacket he wore tonight. But from here, it’s difficult to spot anyone’s face in the crowd. The blinking lights give off strange shadows and everyone is moving, either dancing or stumbling to push through the dense sea of bodies.
He hears a soft laugh from the man across from him and looks over to find him shaking his head, but he’s smiling.
“Look, I don’t mean to come off strong, but someone as gorgeous as you shouldn’t be alone on New Year's Eve.”
Any patience left for this man is immediately snuffed out, like water tossed onto a fire.
“I told you, I’m–”
“Waiting for your boyfriend, uh huh.” He grins with his teeth and Dream barely restrains from throwing his head back in annoyance. 
If there weren’t a threat of getting lost in the crowd, Dream would abandon his station here and go looking for Hob. But he knows it’s better to stay here and wait as he had been, despite the nuisance still attempting to converse with Dream.
He steps around the table to stand next to Dream, who takes a deliberate step sideways away from him.
“What’s your name?”
Dream ignores him, head now permanently angled towards the bar.
“You know,” he starts up again and Dream eyes flutter shut, praying for patience. “The longer you ignore me, the more persistent I’ll become.”
Dream opens his eyes and levels the man, who is definitely drunk, with an unamused look.
“Even if I weren’t already spoken for, this is a terrible way to receive my affections.”
“He speaks!” The man exclaims and laughs. Dream pinches the bridge of his nose and has officially made the decision to lose his mind at the stranger, when he blessedly feels two familiar strong arms wrap around his waist.
“Sorry that took so long,” Hob speaks directly into Dream’s ear, no need to shout with lips tickling his skin. “I got us two drinks each so we don’t have to deal with that again.”
Dream smiles, unaware of how tense he was as his body relaxes against Hob’s– before it sharpens to a smirk at the utterly baffled expression on the strange man’s face.
Hob’s lips trail up the shell of Dream’s ear, his nose nudging in his hairline as he speaks again, his hot breath warming Dream up from the inside and sparking a sudden and intense feeling of surrender in Hob’s possessive hold. 
“Who’s your friend?” And fuck, Dream can hear the control in Hob’s voice. The question is innocent enough, but the way his tone pitches into a growl, low and dangerous, makes Dream’s toes curl. 
“I don’t know,” Dream answers simply, one brow arching at the other man, giving him the decency to turn and walk away on his own before Hob can make a show of animalistic ownership that Dream can practically feel radiating off Hob’s self-control.
Thankfully the stranger leaves, which is just as well, though Dream would have rather liked being ravished with an audience.
He turns to face Hob properly, duly noticing the drinks on the table and slips his arms around Hob’s middle, bringing them flush together in what can only be described as a bear hug.
Dream tucks his face under Hob’s jaw– bending his knees a little– and inhaling deeply, the scent of Hob’s cologne grounding him, and exhaling loudly through his mouth and smiling again at Hob’s deep chuckle that rumbles through his own body.
“You good?” Hob asks into Dream’s hair, placing a kiss there.
“Mm…” Dream hums. “I’m great.”
348 notes · View notes
sweetiepoison · 1 month
Text
Famous Baby (blurb)
The Final Straw
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Warnings: verbal argument, angst, smut (oral receiving and giving, P in V) buckle up bc this is an emotional rollercoaster.”
“You’re so rude!”
“And you’re selfish!”
You scoffed, “Im selfish because I don’t think you need to make a speech?”
“It’s a congratulatory speech.” Auston clarified, “on behalf of the team-“
“The only people that need to make a speech are Justin and Ryan.” You cut him off placing your hands on your hips, “The owners of the company.”
Drew House was turning 5 and Justin’s mom had the idea to put together a party to celebrate the accomplishment. She wanted it to be big and filled with Justin’s friends, family, and the things he loved the most.
So she planned a few different meetings for everyone to get together which unfortunately for you included Auston you flew to LA specifically for this.
“So I can’t make a speech, but you get to sing a song?”
“Do you want us all to sit in silence the whole night?”
“Dj’s have a job for a reason.” Auston crossed his arms over his chest. “And they can play actual good songs.”
On any other day Auston’s jab about your music wouldn’t bother you. You deemed him useless and untalented musically speaking. But today, the comment put you over the edge.
You took a deep breath before calmly responding “Hire whoever you want Auston, I don’t care.”
Your cold tone, took Auston back. He didn’t expect you to switch it up so quickly. And only two outcomes were plausible now. The argument ends here or you were about to go off.
Auston knew this was a fragile moment and how he responded would determine the outcome. He should’ve just silently agreed or even gave into your idea, but he was stubborn and good at self sabotaging.
“You do care.” He pointed out, “If you didn’t you would’ve shut up at the beginning of this discussion and let me be in charge.”
And that was enough for your deep breaths and the counting method your therapist taught you to avoid outbursts to be forgotten.
“You know what Auston, no asked you to be in charge because they know you suck at it.” You’re voice rose with every word, “If you were good at being in charge you would have a winning team, but you don’t.” The venom in your words were no competition for the fury that filled your eyes, “The only reason you are relevant enough to even be sitting here is because Justin loves hockey. It’s not because you encouraged him to build the brand, or supported him every step of the way, or put in money for it to be successful.” You listed off what the others in the room, Justin’s friends and family, had done do ensure his success. “You’ve done nothing, but show up and ruin things, so you can sit down and shut up, because no one here cares about what you think.”
“Is that why you wrote a song about me.” Auston challenged, “because you don’t care about what I think?”
Your mouth went dry and your throat felt like it was beginning to close up. You swallowed thickly, refusing to let the tears that so badly wanted to come out make an appearance. This couldn’t be happening. Despite the release of your new single you told no one who it was about, now Auston just did that for you.
“That’s it. I’m done.” Your chair squeaked as you abruptly stood from it. “Auston, go fuck your self, Scooter, I quite.”
You stormed out of the room the door slamming behind you. The table fell silent following your exit, no one knowing what to say or do.”
“Go get her.” Scooter, Justin’s manager sighed rubbing his face.
“No, we don’t need her, especially if she doesn’t want to be here.” Auston sat back in his chair crossing his arms.
“She was one of the most important people sitting at this table. Scooter paused, “Go. Get. Her.”
“She’s a big girl, she made her choice. And now you want me to chase after her?”
“I don’t care if you have to get down on your knees and beg for her forgiveness, she better be sitting at this table tomorrow.” He finalized standing up himself, the discussion was over.
Auston didn’t follow you immediately, his pride too strong. He waited until the evening when he had no choice but to fix things. There was less than 12 hours until everyone would meet again.
He reluctantly drove to your apartment after getting the address and penthouse number from Hailey.
Auston tapped his hands on his legs waiting for the elevator to arrive at the top floor. He could think of a million things he would rather do than apologize to you, but his friendship meant more than his dislike toward you.
Following your show in Arizona, Auston made it his mission to push down any type of feelings he had for you. The two of you together would be complicated and that was something he couldn’t deal with, not at the start of the season.
Between the time he knocked on the door and you answering, he debated just leaving, but he didn’t have the time to do that once you answered. Auston couldn’t keep his eyes from wondering down your body at the short cotton shorts that hugged your hips and the cropped tank top that dipped down to show cleavage. His thoughts were only interrupted by your voice.
“Can I help you.”
“Ummm yeah,” he stammered forgetting what he had planned to say eyes still focused on the way you leaned against the doorway, one arm holding open the door as the other rested on your hip. “I wanted to apologize.”
“Apologize for what?” You showed no emotion, but didn’t miss the way he had yet to look you in the eyes.
“This afternoon.” Auston finally looked up meeting your eyes with his own. “Saying those things.”
“Yeah, that’s sounds really sincere.”
“Can you please just let me in so we can actually talk?” Auston huffed annoyed that you were holding your ground.
You rolled your eyes but stepped to the side to allow him in. You closed the door and walked past him to the couch in the center of the room. “Okay, start apologizing.”
Auston sighed sitting on the wooden coffee table across from the couch. “Listen, (y/n), I’m sorry for what I said. I was angry and,” he sighed again frustrated at the lack of words coming to mind, “and I’m just really sorry.”
“Wow, that was more pathetic than the first attempt.” You crossed your arms, “but I’m not surprised considering you never apologize for anything. This is probably a lot for you, trying to use words with more than one syllable.”
“You done?”
“No.” You shook your head sitting up straight. “It’s one thing for you to not like me, but embarrassing me like that when you know that song was vulnerable for me, was just mean.”
There was lots of gossip surrounding the song you revealed at your show. Later that night you released the recorded version and the next morning it was everywhere. The discussion about who it could be about was a hot topic, everyone wanted to know, but no one did. Even when your best friends asked who it was about you brushed it off saying it wasn’t about anyone specific it was just a concept you thought of.
“I wasn’t thinking.”
“You never think!” You shouted, “you just say things and do things without thinking about the consequences.”
“I apologized what else do you want from me?” Auston shouted back throwing his arms in the air.
“Nothing.” You stood up and stormed toward the door and holding it open. “Get the fuck out.”
“What the hell is your problem?”
“You. You’re my problem. Now leave.”
“Im not leaving until we figure this out.” Auston responded not looking at you and refusing to stand.
“You don’t get to decide when this conversation is over. You are apologizing to me.”
“Then fucking accept my apology if you want me to leave.”
“No. Your “apology” was terrible.” You put air quotes around the word apology allowing the door to close in the process.
“Then I’m not leaving.”
“Fine, then I’m calling security.” You announced attempting to make your way to the phone on the side table by the couch, but Auston blocked your path.
“Move.” You threatened trying to push past him, but Auston wouldn’t budge.
“Will you just…stop being so fucking difficult?” Auston held onto your arms to try and keep you in place.
“No.” You pulled your arms back with a surprising amount of strength, but Auston got to the phone before you could and threw it across the room.
“What the hell is your problem?” You reiterated his question from earlier.
“You. You’re my problem.” His voice came out strained.
Both of you stood chest to chest breathing heavily. Auston looked down at you, he wanted to walk away but he couldn’t. Watching you so worked up, breathless from arguing and cheeks red. You looked so pretty, and you were standing so close, and he was so turned on. So he didn’t think, he just acted as he leaned down, one hand placed on your neck and kissed you.
You wish you say your initial reaction was to pull away, but it wasn’t. You sank into the kiss like you had been waiting for years for it. Your fingers clasped together around his neck as his free hand found a home on your hip.
You kissed for a long time taking turns opening your mouths wider giving the other person more access, neither of you coming up for air. Auston sat down on the couch, pulling you down with him. You kissed down his neck as you straddled his waist. Auston’s hands rubbed up and down your back under your tank top as you continued working down his neck and back up nipping at his earlobe. He tugged lifting your tank top over your head and tossing it in the corner.
“Fuck.” He groaned noticing that you decided to not wear a bra with it leaving your bare chest in front of him. Auston dipped down to kiss the valley between your breast before taking one of your nipples in his mouth. You moaned at the attention he gave them.
“You drive me crazy.” You whined raking your fingers through his hair.
“The feelings mutual.” He mumbled coming up from your chest and planting a kiss on your lips. You only broke the kiss to remove his shirt and then your hands were back on his body as his lips were back on yours.
“Stand up.” Auston demanded nudging you his knee. You did as told and watched as Auston got down on his knees in front of you without breaking eye contact. He couldn’t help but chuckling thinking back to what Scooter said about getting on his knees to beg for forgiveness. Watching the way your legs clenched looking at him, Auston knew he would get on his knees for you whenever you wanted.
You knew this was all wrong. You hated him and he hated you, but watching him hook his fingers in your panties and sliding them down your legs, that was right.
Auston placed kisses along your inner thighs before he tapped your leg “separate them.”
You couldn’t help the loud moan that escaped your lips as Auston’s tongue met your clit. You latched your fingers back into his hair and attempted to steady yourself. Auston held you firm as he continued to lick and suck like he had been walking in the desert for days and you were his first sip of water.
Your legs only became weaker as you felt him slip two fingers inside of you. They pumped at a rapid pace and you began falling apart around them.
“Aus, I-“ you started but couldn’t finish as you moaned loudly. The combination of his tongue and his fingers had you closing your eyes and seeing stars as you came calling out his name.
“I know, baby, I got you.” He reassured picking you up in his arms. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you to the bedroom. Auston placed you down as he stood at the foot of the bed.
“You out on quite the performance earlier.” You watched as he reached for his belt. “Calling me a bad leader, screaming about how I’ve ruined things.” He slowly removed his belt and unzipped his pants. “And my favorite,” he smirked climbing onto the bed. “Telling me to sit down and shut up.”
Auston leaned back into the pillows and placed clasped his hands together behind his head.
“I’m going to do that now and I want you to suck my dick until I’m whimpering like you just were.” You couldn’t help the way your body reacted to that statement.
“C’mon baby, I know how much you love performing.” He smirked down at you as you crawled between his legs, “put on a show for me.”
You swirled your tongue around his tip before slowly taking more of him into your mouth. You hollowed your cheeks and went down on him until he was touching the back of your throat.
“Keep doing that.” He encouraged as you used your right hand to twist and stroke the part you couldn’t fit. You let your mouth and hand move in a rhythmic motion.
“Just like that.” Auston panted eyes shut tightly.
“Open your eyes.” You moved him out of your mouth to make the request. Auston continued to breathe deeply eyes still shut. “I won’t continue until you open them.” You threatened waiting for him to look down at you.
“Good.” You said satisfied as he looked down. You hummed around him taking him further down your throat. It wasn’t long until Auston was grinding his teeth together to keep himself from finishing.
“I want to be inside of you.” He said pushing gently on your shoulder to stop you. Auston flipped you over so he was back on top. After stroking himself a few times he aligned himself with you.
“Absolutely not.” You grabbed his wrist. “Put a condom on, I don’t know who you’ve stuck that in.”
Auston chuckled reaching into the bedside table, while kissing your neck “it feels better without it.” His breath was hot against your ear and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you rethink.
“I don’t care. I’m not catching something from you, that would make this whole situation even more embarrassing.”
“Oh, baby, there’s nothing embarrassing about how good I’m going to make you feel.” Auston slid the condom on like you asked before thrusting into you. You immediately wrapped your legs around his waist wanting him as deep as possible. Auston dipped down kissing you roughly as he worked his hips into yours.
You two moved in synch, like you’ve done this before. As his hips went down, yours went up to meet in the middle, hitting the perfect angle.
“Tell me you want me.” His request was so soft you almost didn’t hear it.
“I do.” You reassured him, knowing your mind was made up in the living room that this was what you wanted.
“No. I want to hear you say it.” His voice was strained as he rested his face in your neck.
“I want you, Auston.” Your words seemed to encourage him as he picked up the pace.
“You’ve had a funny way of showing you wanted me.”
“Says the guy who called me overrated.”
“Says the girl who called me selfish and arrogant.”
“Says the guy who made me cry and exposed to everyone that I wrote a song about him.
Auston stopped moving his hips for a moment and met your eyes seriously, “you cried?”
“Im sensitive.” You shrugged “Plus I got an awesome song out of it, which is doing really well on the charts. So, ya know….it worked out.”
“Look at me.” Auston grabbed your chin to bring your eyes back to him, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s whatever.” You brushed off the apology with a wave of your hand.
“No, (y/n),” There was something earnest in Auston’s eyes, a mixture of pleading but also reassurance “I’m, so sorry for hurting you like that.”
“I know.” You reassured him placing a hand on his cheek and brushing his hair out of his face gently. He may have been the one apologizing but you wanted to comfort him, reassure him that you truly forgave him, for all of it.
The moment felt intimate, romantic even and that was too much for Auston. It was one thing for him to fuck you, but a whole different thing if you thought it was anything more than that.
If there was one thing you agreed on it was that you both had very busy schedules and that you both were too selfish with your time to commit to something serious. The last thing either of you needed was love.
“Flip over.” He instructed
“Huh?” You looked up at him, and unlike the moment before Auston looked away.
“I want to take you from behind.” Auston watched as a look of hurt crossed your face, but it was only for a moment before you were doing as you were told.
Auston slipped himself into you again and began moving like before. He found the perfect pace again and had you screaming his name within minutes. He gave you a minute before he started back up. He wanted you to cum again. Partly because he wanted to make up for being such an asshole but a bigger part of him wanted to do it out of pride. He wanted you to think about this night when you were alone and touching yourself. And he definitely wanted you to think about it, if you tried being with another guy.
Watching you come undone a second time had Auston quickly following. You didn’t let him pull you back into his chest or hold you close before you were up and going to the bathroom.
“Don’t get too comfortable you definitely aren’t staying the night.” You tossed over your shoulder.
Right before closing the door is when you heard his response, “I didn’t plan on it.”
He made it clear that this was casual. You couldn’t lie to yourself and say that him making you turn around didn’t hurt, but you understood it. Returning from the bathroom, you watched as Auston redressed himself as you did the same.
You walked him back through the living room and to your door.
“We don’t tell anyone about this.”
“About what?” His look of fake confusion only lasted a moment before he was smiling and placing a quick kiss on your lips. “Don’t worry, no one will find out.”
“Goodnight Auston .”
“Goodnight, (y/n).”
117 notes · View notes
hellowoolf · 4 months
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on strawberries and masonry: chapter i
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series summary: you atone for your sins, now, in a jackson garden, learning to care for soft things and yourself. joel miller is a lethal sort of similar, and misery loves company
OR
you live in jackson and meet joel and you’re both damaged little babies and fall in love (but i’m drawing this shit out🫶🫶)
warnings: angst, ANGST👈🏻👈🏻, reader has a violent past but we don’t get graphic about it yet, knives (at present we only use her for gardening), age gap (reader late 20s/early 30s, joel 50s), mention of masturbation (if i left out any, let me know!)
word count: 3.1k
authors note: i would consider myself a mildly experienced writer but this is my first ever fic! kindness is appreciated but so is constructive criticism. i really hope you enjoy🍓
by the way, a big ol thank you to @macfrog @netherfeildren @5oh5 @swiftispunk @bageldaddy (and others), whose fantastic writing gave me the courage to put this story to paper🫶
series masterlist | masterlist
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you don’t remember much about the little fruits, from the time that came before. you were only a child then, 8 when it all crumbled to pieces, and those small sweetnesses aren’t things you’re taught to notice when you’re that young. lemons and airplane engines and the neighbor’s dog; these you remember, what with all the ruckus they made, but berries and peaches were far too soft of creations to make an impression. you suppose to anyone who could see your life in full, it would seem ironic in a tragic sort of way that they were all you cared for now.
you like to ponder these things—torture, really—on your way to the garden in the morning. there’s something about the honesty of jackson air, the clarity of it at daybreak, that make such musings, painful as they are, the only bearable passtime. keeping your hands close to your sides inside your jacket, you let your fingertips brush against the knife stored there. maria had offered you gardening tools, things more fit for the work you did now, but you’d refused; this knife was your father’s once (if you were remembering correctly) and you wouldn’t let it rust over on your nightstand. you like to make use of things, things and people if you’re honest, and trimming plants and flowers and little fruits are no less noble uses for it than what you did before jackson.
the crunch of your boots beneath you whispers up as you trudge along. your house isn’t far from the garden, but ages, it feels, from everything else. you’d gone to the tipsy bison, once, within the first few weeks of moving in, convinced you were young and entitled to normalcy after what they’d collected you from on the outside. the scotch burned your throat in a cliche kind of way, and you suppose you enjoyed that part, but the walk alone in the dark on your way home was enough to keep you from the establishment since. you moved back and forth from your garden, the dining hall, and occasionally tommy’s house when you couldn’t bear the loneliness; these pathways you’d carved out for yourself here are few and stubborn, but you love them because they’re yours. the other young men and women your age in town, most of whom have lived the better part of their lives within these walls, don’t think of you enough to find you as strange as you perhaps are, but their not thinking is a comfort to you. the crunch crunch crunch of your boots on the gravel mumbles in agreement.
“speak of the devil.”
tommy is leaning against the glass of the greenhouse wall with noah when he calls it out to you, grounding you in place. you’d made it all the way to the garden in the time it took for that ugly contemplation, but the both of them are smiling with that back and forth glance only boyishness forgives, and now the morning is real. it’s cold enough that numbness has clawed its way up the bridge of your nose, the frost keeping last night’s snow frozen to the ground. it’s these moments, the arrivals to your garden at dawn, when the day comes to you. you like the both of them, noah and tommy. they make you feel like somebody’s sister. you turn up the ends of your mouth. “all bad things i hope.”
“awful, really,” noah chuckles, tugging on the arm of your jacket to pull you inside with tommy behind you, the both of them still smiling in conspiracy.
you begin to slip your arms out of your coat, laying it carefully against a wall, the wet warmth of the greenhouse rushing you immediately. you’d been heating the inside for a few weeks now, trying to maintain a healthy summer crop output despite the freezing soil, and a few of the sturdier vegetables had steadily been peeking their way up. you plucked a full radish from the dirt last week and nearly wept over it. you look back up at tommy and noah, standing shoulder to shoulder now in the aisle between the planter boxes to block your path forward, humming still with whatever tommy-and-noah-elation they’ve concocted. you tilt your head a little and smile.
“are you gonna make me guess? or can you just tell me?”
they confer with a nod and a jostle side to side, tommy turning back to you. “there’s a strawberry.”
your tongue unsticks from the roof of your mouth as something golden and beautiful unfolds inside of you. “there isn’t,” you counter. noah turns himself sideways so you can walk through the aisle to the end of the left planter box and you rush there (you’re rarely frantic, nowadays, but you allow this sort of thing for your little fruits).
maria had placed you here in the garden as a safeguard. she thought you dangerous (and you were, at least back when you met her), so she put you to work where your hands could do good and be far from people. it helped, you guessed, that the greenhouse is made of glass; she could keep an eye on you this way. and oh, how you’d resisted it, the softness of a gardener’s job. in the end, though, the black and grime of life left as residue on your palms felt like forgiveness, and you’d taken quickly to thinking yourself a botanist.
by the time you arrive at the end of the left planter box, on your knees like a worshiper at a pew, you’re eye level with the little poetry of red and green parting the soil you’d scooped by hand last month. tommy and noah, you feel, are behind you as your shadow casts itself over the soil, and you almost have to pull the thing out just to bear this feeling. there’s a strawberry. and you actually say it out loud, softer than anything but wild, still, and staring at the child of plant and earth you’d nursed to color. noah and tommy drop to your sides, and you notice then that the three of you are crying, and you laugh and laugh over the little thing like madness and sweetness and pride.
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the euphoria of your strawberry lasts you well into the late afternoon. tommy and noah had left you to bask in the glory of it to continue with construction on a little post office right off the main road, and you worked the morning with your thumbs in the dirt, slicing browning leaves off the budding plants with as much gentleness as you could muster. you look down at your knife, cradled close in the cup of your palm, to finger out the soil packed through the engraving along the handle. a last name meant nothing anymore, what with your loneliness and the end of the world, but still the slopes of it peer up at you; you watched your father make the engraving, you think, though the actual memory of it is lost to time.
by the time you reach the beets at the end of the right planter box, a commotion has stirred outside. men’s voices ring and rumble from the main road, and the bass of it hums under your knees on the ground. a great bark of tommy reaches you clearly, even tucked away as your greenhouse is, and curiosity consumes you enough to resign from your garden for the day. these days you are quiet, and reserved, sometimes frightening because you like how it feels, but still curious, always curious, and so you curl yourself back into your jacket to join whatever audience has congregated by the front gates.
he is beautiful in a holy sort of way, whoever he is. you come upon tommy wrapped up in a great big stranger, a horse and a young girl behind him, and the slopes of his nose bend the waning sunlight off into a ribbon of a beam. jesus, when was the last time you’d looked at someone this way? tommy pulls back from him, glassy eyed and awestruck, looking around at those who’d crowded the scene almost incredulously, but you stare still at his stranger, who is so broad and so timid and so clearly unused to his own timidness that you can’t pull your eyes away. he meets your gaze for a moment, as he sweeps his own across the crowd, and looks at you with about as much detachment as he does the rest of this spectatorship. but oh god, he is so divinely pretty, and so you can forgive his lack of immediate fascination with you.
tommy begins walking his stranger and his stranger’s small companion through the throng, introducing and shaking hands, and as you watch them slowly shuffle towards you, you are struck with the thought that this is tommy’s brother. as he shifts his face along the axis of his shoulders, taking in the town, you see more and more of tommy in the motion of his stranger’s face. you’re sure of it now, as tommy calls your name and shepherds the man in front of you.
“my brother here’as decided to make a grand entrance!” tommy says, slapping a mittened hand across his back. you shake his stranger’s hand and give him your name, hoping your little smile doesn’t give away how awful it felt for him to look this way.
“joel,” he musters (and it really does seem like it takes a mustering), and gives your hand a firm shake before stuffing them back in his pockets. he is disinterested, surely, but afraid, too. it almost hurts you how clear his prevailing apprehension is, and you nearly make to apologize for forcing him to introduce himself. his eyes squint in the golden light cast over jackson.
“i work in the greenhouse, a few blocks from here on the edge of the settlement,” you explain, eyes drifting between joel and his little shadow, who both joel and tommy have yet to introduce. she looks a little feral, and this endears you immediately to her. “welcome in,” you offer, and you do your best to direct this message to her from around joel’s shoulder. her eyes are so big for a thing so ferocious (and you are certain she is) and they widen further at your acknowledgment of her.
“we won’t be here for long,” joel grumbles out and you straighten back up. he says it like you’ve offended him, and you bristle a little. tommy’s beautiful stranger is very guarded, you decide. regardless, the width of him, from left to right, blocks the mountain range behind him, and the patchy scruff along his jaw makes you die a little death.
“alright, well,” you start to back away then, feeling increasingly overwhelmed by his face and his broadness and this little girl who looks and moves like you used to, “you know where to find me,” and you nod a little to tommy before turning and walking away. you lasted all but five seconds in front of him, relishing in how little you were in his shadow cast upon you and loving whatever creature the girl he brought with him was, but all the same he looked too tired and cautious and vicious that it suffocated you. he wouldn’t be here for long, apparently; you’ll likely never see him again. as you step towards your little house, you figure it was worth the meeting, if for nothing else than a face to keep you company in the dark when you’re a woman and alone, and a real image to pair with the descriptions tommy gave of a brother who loved him once.
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for a while, it seemed you really wouldn’t see joel again. you watched, through your greenhouse walls, the great expanse of him ride out with the girl, and you were left with the comfort of knowing how gorgeous you found him and that you would never have to speak with him again. you warded off your own psychoanalysis of your relief at his faraway-ness in the face of your immediate physical attraction to him, and sunk your fingers again in the soil.
but then he had returned. what with how consoled you felt at his leaving, he almost had to; fate was funny this way. but you figure, still, you needn’t disturb yourself with him. you imagined he’d keep to himself with how unspeaking he was when you first met him, and other than crossing his path every once in a while, leaving tommy’s house or marching himself along somewhere or other, you were right.
you think of him at night, though. in the morning you wake up with the shame and hilarity of it, of this lusting over a man you neither know nor want to know, but past midnight in your bed you let your fingers slip over yourself thinking of how small he’d made you feel. the wanting of him strikes you somewhere between your shoulder blades, and you blame it entirely on how long it had been since you shared your bed with anyone. strictly physical, strictly physical. you’d learned again to care for yourself these years in jackson, and you’d wrought kinship from tommy and noah without realizing it, but in all you attend mostly to flora, and in this you are protected. yes, joel keeps to himself as you surmised he would, but you avoid him, too; to want him in this way, all hands and hips and somewhere within you, is harmless, you determine, so long as he stays tommy’s stranger. he could never be anything or anyone to you.
it’s six weeks or so of joel’s continued disinterest in you, and your insistent avoidance of him (barring the way you touched yourself at night to his face), before a knock at your door past sunset brings you out of bed. people rarely appear at your doorstep, though you imagine it’s noah dropping off seeds found on patrol, or tommy with a similar sort of package, or even ellie, joel’s little creature, who’d spoken all but five words to you about your garden, but all the same materialized rather often there to see the colors of your little fruits. but when maria blinks back at you when you open the door, any semblance of a greeting dies in the back of your throat.
“can i come in?” maria asks, although she’s already leaning her shoulder towards the gap between your body and the doorway. you step aside to let her through. it occurs to you that maria has never visited you in your home before, not in your five years in jackson, and when she turns back to you, back pressed against your kitchen counter, it’s clear she’s just had the same thought. the way she crosses her arms over her chest, the authority of it and the terror, too, beckons you toward her from your place at the threshold.
“is everything okay?” you sigh out as you prop your hip against the adjacent table top. she is inspecting you, but smiles.
“yeah, yeah.” one of you sniffs. you shift your weight. “i came to see what you thought of joel.”
you almost laugh then, really laugh. “i don’t think anything of joel.”
she rolls this answer around behind her teeth. “mhm,” and then this time with finality, “mhm”.
you inspect her, now. “you don’t want him here.” it isn’t a question.
maria hums. “tommy wants him here.”
“that isn’t what i said.”
she purses her lips a moment. “yeah, i know.”
and you’re making the moment torturous for her, you’re certain, because you know why she’s come to you, why she’s standing in your kitchen like the elected leader she is, while something awful, something almost like alarm, leaks from the back of her neck onto your floorboards. you’d come to jackson a wild thing and she’d tamed you, and now you lived as a dirt woman who sunk her dagger into earth and green and life more permanent than humanity. she is proud of this, you think. and joel came as much of the same, with red hands that opened dripping, and maria needs him watched now the same way she watched you through your garden’s glass. you sigh again.
“what do you want me to do, maria? anything i’d say to tommy would be infinitely more effective from you.”
maria nods. “i don’t want you to say anything to tommy. i can live with joel in jackson. but he’s insisting on patrol, and i don’t know who else to put with him.”
your jaw seizes, and the heat of anger spreads itself along your neck and around your ears. you remember when you’d pleaded so kindly, crouching to make yourself smaller, hands collapsed together, begging to be useful, to be put outside, to protect jackson like it was yours. maria was as honest with you then as she is now, and she’d cited your instability (the reality of which is neither here nor there) to keep you off the rounds. you’d told tommy maria envisioned your actions before jackson as far more unforgivable than they were, though you knew that was a lie before you opened your mouth to say it. “patrol?”
she looks so solemnly at you you think you might die right there between your kitchen and the staircase. “yeah. i want you to be his patrol partner. i’m not looking to send him out there with a gun strapped to his back with one of the other gu-”
“and why does it have to be me?” and you’re really angry, now. for your unyielding quiet in this jackson existence you’d sewn together and the little strawberry you’d grown from nothing, still, still, you were at most and at least a violence. “why can’t you assign someone else?”
maria has this answer constructed already, it seems, for how fast she releases it, “because you’ll kill him.”
“noah would, if he had to. and leila. i can think of at least fi-”
“i’m not saying you would kill him. i’m saying you could.”
and suddenly you were again a wasp or spider, poisonous and unthinking, and the weight of the killing you did before jackson, which you had halfway successfully ignored to piece yourself into something good, perched its chin on the crown of your head. your father’s knife, laying up next to your bed after what was now years of tending to vegetables and stalks and leaves, howled with laughter, and it carried down the stairs to you like wind in summer, leadened and screaming and satisfied.
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i hope you enjoyed this first part! like i said in my authors note, this is my first time writing a piece like this and certainly my first time posting it, so kindness is much appreciated, as is constructive criticism. part 2 coming (hopefully) soon🍓
update: chapter ii!!
297 notes · View notes
hellfire--cult · 3 months
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Edit of Eddie: pitifulbaby
Chapters: Masterlist (Go here to see list of chapters, plotline and general warnings.)
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Non-Traditional Omegaverse, Slow burn, Modern!AU, Mechanic!Eddie
⚠️This chapter contains: Angst, fear of loneliness, family desires, mentions of nausea, slight insinuation of depression
wc: 7.3k
A/N: Sorry for taking so long! We're slowly arriving to the tension bbies.
Anyways, Enjoy! ❤️ And don't forget to always support me by hitting the reblog button or leave a comment!
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CHAPTER 14
It’s been… excruciating.
The past two weeks you spent them locked up and you have asked to work remotely at home. Your boss of course insisted that you need the time off, that she completely understood your position, and your emotions always come first.
You told her about Billy.
You told her how Billy was not in favor of Same-sex marriage, and adoption. He wasn’t in favor of Betas being able to be single parents either. If that information were to get out, the company would be targeted as unethical, and that’s not at all Liana’s principles. The company is completely in favor of the people’s wants and needs.
You really didn’t want to rat Billy out, because this meant that his opportunities would be lost, and it wasn’t done so you could spite him for his personal views. You just couldn’t keep working with someone who is against what your friends want, what your friends ambition to have. Jonathan and Steve want children of their own, and if the laws don’t let that happen, they will never have the family they strive for.
So Liana immediately called Ralph to look for another publishing company. 
At first, he was crazed, yelling at her through the phone until she finally told him she knew about Billy’s facade about the same-sex marriage riots. Ralph was silent on the other end of the phone, and in three days, the contract was done with, and the company had nothing to do anymore with Billy Hargrove.
Now you, it’s a different story. You’ve been miserable. You could feel him everywhere, remembering him on your bed, laughing with each other, smiling like idiots as you told stories about one another’s lives. How he would cook for you and sometimes spoil you with gifts even if you told him you didn’t need any of it.
You wished you hadn’t noticed certain things that didn’t sit right with you. How he acted with your friends at first, how he would scrunch up his nose when you told him things you liked and he didn’t. How jealous you found out he was when he met Eddie. How you fought sometimes for very stupid things, like him not looking after his mess, or not caring about your thoughts about his friends and still dragging you to hang out with them.
So you stayed in. You couldn’t even go to work because you couldn’t look at that stupid closet for a good while. The closet that started it all. You know you have to move on from this, but it’s not easy, not after what you’ve been through before. It’s hard enough to trust someone into your life that way, imagine being vulnerable and let yourself fall in love with them.
You’re glad those feelings didn’t reach Billy. The bomb exploded, a little anticipated thankfully.
You have also neglected the group, telling them you needed time to cool off, to let it all sink before trying to go to their house, or them coming over because you just wouldn’t be yourself, and you would put the whole group down with your mood. The last thing you want and need is to also feel like a nuisance with your friends.
So, better keep it to yourself. You will get through with it alone, like you always have, with everything. There’s no need to bother others with this, not with the mood you have been handling for the past few days. You didn’t talk with anyone, Robin, Nancy, Eddie, Jonathan… No one, not even a tik tok or meme. 
It was food, work, sleep, repeat. A shower here and there, and you knew it was wrong but it’s just your head playing a bad pass on you. You had been afraid of falling again, of it going wrong, but you thought it might be different, you really thought it would– Only for it to come crashing down as fast as it started.
How can you even begin to think that there is a chance everything will be fine later on? Will you ever find a destined one? If there is any at all? And with the laws, as they still are, your dream of a family is just– 
Your phone rang, taking your mind away from your thoughts. You didn’t notice you were staring blankly at the TV screen. You didn’t even know what was on, nor you didn’t care. You grabbed your phone to see Robin calling you, making you sigh. You slid the answer button on the touchscreen and put the phone in your ear.
“Robs–”
“I’m not getting a no for an answer. Get ready, get dressed, we’re arriving in twenty.” You straightened up in alarm, eyes widening in surprise. 
“What the fuck are you talking about, who is coming?” You were angry now because you didn’t agree to anything, you weren’t even asked to hang out, much less come to your house. 
“Steve, Eddie, and I. The rest had to do stuff, so we are heading over.” Your breathing caught in your throat as you looked around your spotless house. You needed to keep your mind occupied so you cleaned every surface possible. Still, you never agreed–
“N–”
“I said I wasn’t taking a no for an answer.” And just like that, the line clicked. You groaned loudly in anger as you paced around the living room, tossing the phone towards your couch. You love Robin. You love Robin. You love Robin.
But fuck, you wanted to kill her right now.
And bringing Steve and Eddie along? For fuck sake. You looked down at your clothes and then at your room. You could easily not open the door for them. You can easily drive them off like that because they wouldn’t stay outside more than five minutes if you don’t answer. Yeah, you can definitely do that…
“Ugh!” You grunted into the nothingness as you rushed into your room to throw on the first things that were decent. A pair of jeans and a black long-sleeved turtleneck will do. You combed your hair as best as you could, throwing on some mascara and eyeliner to not look like a corpse. You looked into the mirror and you winced as you barely recognized yourself.
You definitely looked as if a truck ran over you. The bags under your eyes, the tired overall look on your face. You sighed as you scanned your face with your hands and then you looked at your hands. They looked dehydrated, and your nails needed some caring that’s for sure. 
Did you really not take care of yourself the past two weeks? 
You didn’t even notice how dejected you looked. You didn’t even care of looking into a mirror, and now that you do you barely recognize who the woman is in the reflection. Fuck did this hit you bad… You grabbed your concealer and tapped a bit under your eyes, trying to conceal the purple hues under them, wincing when it didn’t do much.
Did you even have food for them? Drinks? Shit… Should you order some pizza? You rushed out towards your kitchen and opened your fridge to see there were two beers, some soda, water… Okay, not much but there are beverages. You closed the fridge to look into your cupboards, wincing when no snacks could be found. 
You groaned as you leaned against the sink. It’s not your fault, is it? You weren’t expecting them, so it’s not your issue if there are no snacks or things to satisfy their hunger. Yeah, it’s not. You never said yes. You let out a sigh out of your lips as you talked out loud.
“Alexa. Play whatever 80’s playlist there is.” 
And the sound of Michael Bolton’s ‘How Am I supposed to live without you?’ came on. You cursed at the sky and you really thought you were cursed. You rushed to your phone to see how long it’s been since Robin called you. Fifteen minutes, shit, they are–
And the doorbell rang.
Five minutes early.
You groaned with a sigh, taking a deep breath in as you looked at the front door. Were you ready to face your friends? Were you ready for them to see you like this? They have all messaged you in order to talk to them, to hang out, to even try to do a video call with them, but you always declined.
Even Eddie tried. He sent you a bunch of memes in order to try to cheer you up, but you never opened them. You just didn’t feel like laughing at all. He had messaged you as well, telling you that he would go to your apartment without your invitation, but he never dared to do so. It seems all of them got tired of you pushing them away. 
You walked towards the door and took a deep breath in as you unlocked the door, slowly opening it to reveal your three friends with a bunch of snacks, sweet and salty, and drinks in their hands. They stopped whispering to one another and turned to look at you and you noticed how Robin’s eyebrows twitched as you crossed your arms over your chest, a glare in your eyes. They were silent as you glared at the group for simply crashing without your consent until–
“You look like shit.”
Your eyes snapped towards Eddie and he had a cheeky smile on his face. You flipped him off as you walked backward to let them in. You heard a giggle coming from Robin and then their steps coming inside your apartment. 
Steve closed the door behind him and headed to the fridge to put the beers inside, already taking four out. Robin put the snacks on the counters looking around to see your house completely spotless and she sighed. She knew that whenever you were anxious or nervous you cleaned in order to keep yourself distracted.
Eddie though, Eddie was looking all around. It was the first time he came to your apartment, and it was very spacious, but his was even more. You didn’t notice when you came by to his workplace, but he lives above the shop. You enter his home through stairs that are on the back, going up towards the second floor. His was more of a loft-looking apartment, those that have brick walls and industrial stuff.
Your house was more modern-like, a little minimalistic but with plants all around. You were very fond of succulents since there are a bunch at the top of your fridge. His eyes then went towards your bookshelf, walking towards it to start inspecting your books.
“So, what are you doing here?” Your voice was angry, yet there was a certain feeling, emotion, that told them you didn’t dislike their intrusion. Robin shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest, Steve coming to stand next to her with the same stance.
“You expect us to just wait for you to talk to us? That can happen in a fucking month, and we are not gonna wait that long.” At those words, you couldn’t help but be mad.
“People need their own healing time, and you are invading it.” Your voice was cold, imperative even, and Steve’s head snapped towards Robin worriedly. Your best friend stood her ground as she stared at you, shaking her head.
“I wouldn’t invade it if you at least talked to us. I wouldn’t invade it if you at least came to work instead of working remotely, which by the way, fuck you for making me interact with other people!”
You wanted to laugh at your best friend’s exaggeration, but you had to focus on the fact you were angry at the invasion. You rolled your eyes at her and you walked to rest your hip against the headrest of your couch.
“You are still invading it without my conse–”
“Holy shit, you have Fifty Shades of Grey.”
Everyone’s eyes turned to the dark-haired metalhead that was still holding onto the bag of candies in his hand as he inspected your bookshelf. You raised your eyebrow at him, wondering what the hell he was going on about.
“So?” You asked him and he turned to look at you, holding the first book in his hand.
“Seriously? There is better erotica out there sweetheart.” You felt heat on your cheeks at the comment, it’s not like it was your go-to in the book genre… But the bookshelf is indeed filled with smut–
“Hang on, does Eddie Munson read Erotica?” You said mockingly and you heard Steve let out a snort of his, covering his mouth with his hand. Eddie turned to put the book back and a smirk was plastered on his face as he looked at you once more.
“Knowledge is in any form sweetheart.” More heat, that’s for sure. You felt it all over your fingertips even, and you shrugged it off with a roll of your shoulders. He turned to go over to the counter to finally place the candies there. He took a beer from the four that Steve had previously taken out and opened it. 
“Look, I know you don’t want us here, but we really can’t turn our heads and pretend you’re not okay.” Steve finally talked as he grabbed a beer and handed it to you. You could see the doubt in his eyes, the guilt of just barging in as they liked, and you could hear the slight apology behind his words.
You know that the rest would probably be here if they didn’t have work or other plans. You knew that. You gulped the lump in your throat that was already forming there because you had cried enough the first few days and you promised yourself you wouldn’t cry anymore. You were putting on a strong attitude even if you really didn’t feel like being that strong or confident.
You raised your hand towards Steve’s and grabbed the beer from his grip. It was a sign of acceptance that they were already here, and they wouldn’t go away any time soon. You opened your beer as you heard Steve opening his. You looked at Robin who was looking at you with sadness in her eyes and you sighed, shaking your head.
“I’m sorry Robs.”
Your best friend immediately rushed to your aid, wrapping her arms around you in order to pull you close. You felt your chest press on you because of the emotions you were suddenly washed over with. You didn’t know you needed an embrace until now, wrapping your arms around Robin made you feel the lump in your throat coming right back up.
You clenched your eyes tightly trying not to let the tears fall as you felt your heart tightening at the hug. You were immersed into your own sadness that you didn’t know how to get out of and probably all you needed were the people inside the room right now. The ones who care enough that they prefer to invade your privacy than to let you fall deeper into a hole.
Eddie was looking at you, inspecting your face as he felt the sadness radiating from you. Why are you holding back from crying? Why do you always try to keep a strong front? He knows what you’ve been through, and he knows it’s not something easy to let go, but they are here now to help you. You weren’t betrayed by your friends like you had in the past. 
His chest felt a little tight as he saw you hugging Robin and he looked at Steve who had the same worried look on his face, but he let a sigh of relief fall from his lips. They have been worried about you for the past two weeks, and even in the short period of knowing you, he had been too.
You pulled away from Robin and she immediately flicked your forehead with her thumb and index finger, making you wince and rub the area she hurt.
“What the fuck was that for!?” You yelled at that and she giggled at you, turning to go grab a beer for herself.
“For being a fucking idiot.” You rolled your eyes at her but a tiny smile spread on your lips as you took another sip of your beer. You looked up from the can, seeing Eddie looking straight at you, and that made your stomach turn slightly at the intense gaze. Your eyes snapped to Steve who grabbed a tube of Pringles and your mouth salivated at seeing they were your favorite flavor, doing grabby hands at it.
Steve chuckled at your reaction and he opened it for you first before handing it over to you. Still, before you could reach it, Eddie immediately snatched it away, putting his beer on the counter in order to stick his hand in and take a handful of chips, throwing them all inside of his mouth, and making you gasp in disbelief.
“You’re eating them all!” You groaned at him and he only sent a smirk your way, and he could see how your eyebrows were slowly knitting together in the middle of your forehead in anger and annoyance. Oh, he missed that face. It’s been a while since he last saw it. 
“You want some?” He pretended to hand the tube to you and you quickly moved your free hand to grab onto it, only for Eddie to snatch it back. “Too slow.”
“Eddie–” Robin was the one that talked now and Eddie looked at her still with a triumphant smirk on his face.
“Yeah?” And suddenly he was pounced over, your legs wrapping around his waist as you did a big jump, one arm wrapped around his shoulders as your other hand reached over to grab the tube of Pringles. He quickly raised his hand up, yelling at the sudden action, almost falling on his ass by the impact.
“Give me the fucking pringles Munson!!!” You yelled loudly and the arm that was around his shoulders immediately gripped onto the low ponytail, pulling on it, making him wince in pain.
“What the fuck Peach!?” He was trying to keep you two balanced as he thrashed all over the apartment while Robin and Steve started laughing hysterically and taking videos of the scene unfolding before their eyes.
“Y-You never EVER mess with her pringles. NEVER!” You wanted to laugh, you really did, but you wanted the fucking pringles that were on this bastard’s extended arm, out of your reach, so you pulled on his ponytail even harder.
His eyes snapped open at the sudden feeling he got, a part of him twitching that really shouldn’t, so he put you down and slammed the tube of chips on your chest.
“Fine, fine! Take your pringles, Jesus H. Christ!” He cursed and you just took the can in your hands and sent a raspberry his way, and the tight feeling he felt before evaporated just like that, a laugh escaping his lips at your childishness. 
You followed with a giggle and Robin raised an eyebrow up as she turned to look at Steve. He was already grinning, looking at her but the two of them didn’t say anything. Nothing needed to be said. They stopped recording the moment as you started stuffing your face with chips and Robin instantly yelled at your greediness.
Steve chuckled as he looked at Eddie, the smile turning into confusion as he saw Eddie looking at you with a puzzled look on his face, yet a smile was on his lips. Steve tilted his head, wanting to talk to his friend only for Robin to almost knock the small table that you left your beer can on before you jumped on Eddie, making him fumble forward to catch the can as quickly as he could.
The apartment was filled with laughter in a matter of seconds, of yelling and curses. The apartment that remained silent for over two weeks was now full of life you didn’t think you missed that much, and now having it, you’re realizing you were wrong. Now you wished the rest of the group were here. You really wanted the whole group together again.
You needed them. You needed these people who showed you time and time that they wouldn’t hurt you, never intentionally, and even accidentally they would ask for forgiveness. Like Eddie did. 
You looked at him as he now recorded Steve and Robin wrestling for a can of pretzels, claiming it was each other’s favorite, and you were just in a trance as you saw how he was laughing, here, in your house… That laugh you saw many times on Instagram stories when Nancy or Steve would post him. That laugh you never thought would ever be near you.
It was a nice feeling. It definitely was.
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You were outside now, smoking a cigarette in the kind of warm weather despite the season. You let the smoke out into the air as you heard the sliding door of your balcony open and you turned your head to see who the visitor was.
“Well, Robin and Steve overdid it with the special Margaritas.” Eddie stated as he sat on the couch next to you, placing a beer on the small table in front next to the… Eddie grabbed the item and showed it to you with an eyebrow raised up. “A Mickey Mouse ashtray?”
You snorted and almost choked on your smoke as you giggled at that and gave him a nod.
“I thought it would be funny.” It was his turn to smile and shake his head as he put the ashtray back on the table, taking out his own pack of cigarettes so he could light one up. You leaned over to grab his beer and take a sip out of it, and he did not comment on that at all.
He never liked it when people touched his food or his drinks. He would always make a snarky comment about them getting their own, but he really didn’t seem to mind it when you took a gulp and put it back in its place for him to take it next. 
He took a deep inhale of the cigarette in his hand and he turned to look at your profile. You looked happy, yet that feeling of holding something back was still present in your features. His eyebrows twitched slightly as he looked away and into the sky.
“You don’t have to act tough all the time, you know?” You were taken out of your thoughts as you turned to look at him with a surprised look on your face. You shook your head at him, feeling your heart falling slowly into your stomach.
“I am not acting tough. I’m just slowly getting over it.” You looked forward once more, taking a drag of your cigarette, trying to hide the twitch that just happened in your eyebrow, but Eddie knew he couldn’t leave until you finally let it all out. You’ve been enduring it all by yourself the past two weeks, there was no need to do that when they were all here.
“Look, I told you I can read people like the palm of my hand, didn’t I?” He said and you surely remember that. You scoffed and looked at him, an eyebrow raised in confusion.
“Yeah, and I’m still wondering if you have a superpower or just a stalker.” He rolled his eyes at your joke and shook his head, taking a sip of his beer and handing the can your way. You took it in your hand and took a gulp as well, putting the can back on the table.
“I am just good at reading people.”
“Right, and I’m–”
“Changing the topic.” 
You closed your mouth and snapped it shut to be completely honest. He was staring at you, his eyes never leaving yours, and you felt an intense heat filling your entire body at the gaze, but it was a shameful heat. A kind of guilty feeling rising up inside of you that you couldn’t quite comprehend. 
“L-Look… how I handle my problems is my own issue. I take me time, I prefer to be alone so I can think–”
“Bad.”
Your eyebrows knitted together in anger as you look at him, putting your cigarette out in the ashtray in front of you both. You were becoming defensive, you knew that, but you don’t know why he is intruding so much in your life when he should just back away.
“I always solved my problems this way! And it’s–”
“That’s a lie.” He wasn’t looking at you, but your face was on fire from anger, from nerves, from an anxious feeling that was building inside your guts.
“Excuse me?” You were going to explode at him, you really were, but then his face turned to look at you after he put the cigarette bud out on the ashtray, and your anger evaporated from your whole body at the frown on his eyebrows.
“You didn’t solve it alone in your past.” 
Your heart was beating inside your chest, wanting to run out of your throat, and you could feel the blood rushing in your ears, and your hands started to become sweaty, extremely so. Your head turned, looking away from him and you wanted to run away because the lump in your throat was forming again. Fuck, it was happening once more.
“Sometimes I did.” That was a lie. That was a horrible lie. You always enjoyed the comfort of people, and the hugs they would give you in your moment of stress, of sadness, of anxiety. You always found stillness and calm when you talked to people about your problems.
Eddie was still looking at you with a saddened look on his face. He has been joking with you all night, trying to make you laugh, trying to make you forget… But he knew that you needed this. He knew it, and he wasn’t going to let you live this alone. If he knew something about life, it was loneliness.
“We are not like them.” His voice was calm but reassuring. You almost choked with those words and you gotta give it to him, he was one smart bastard. Your eyes were starting to burn and you needed to hold it in. You needed to.
“I know.” Was your short response, but Eddie didn’t hold back. He needed you to break.
“Then act like it.”
And that was enough for a tear to finally fall from the edge of your waterline and onto your cheek.
You were never alone in these moments. You always told Camila about your issues at work, about your heartbreaks, about your good moments, about your triumphs and your falls, and she had always been there. Always giving you a shoulder, always telling you that everything would be okay, always giving you advice and opinions on the issues you were going through.
You had someone to talk to, someone that knew you since little, someone that you thought would never, ever, not in a million years hurt you, harm you, or destroy you. 
And what if it were to happen again? What if you were to open up to people that would hurt you later on? People that might rip you apart without hesitation? What if you opened up only for a knife to be stabbed back into your mouth?
It was wrong for you to put them all in the same bag, but could you really blame yourself? Could you blame yourself for how hard it was for you to trust someone entirely? It’s not that you don’t trust them, you just don’t trust the future. You don’t trust that everything will be okay. You don’t trust that everything has a happy ending. You simply don’t trust, so you move on tippy toes in order to not step on glass. 
Robin was not like Camila. You knew that Robin would never do to you what Camila had done… but it wasn’t easy. It wasn’t. You wished it were. You wished you could see into the future to know that nothing changes, to know that you weren’t going to get your heart broken, but that was impossible.
How can someone trust another person as blindly as you trusted the one that hurt you?
“It’s not easy.” Your voice cracked. Fuck, it cracked. You took a sharp breath in, trying to calm down but he broke the dam. He broke it, and you were shaking trying to hold everything in, trying to tape it all back together.
“I know it’s not sweetheart… The last thing we want is to hurt you…” You didn’t miss the ‘we’. You didn’t miss how he included himself in that equation at all. 
And for some reason, your chest filled with warmth at that, but you couldn’t contain the dam anymore. You really couldn’t, and Eddie’s eyes almost widened when more tears slipped down your face, uncontrollably so. The last time he saw you cry he had to hold back, almost painfully, in order to not go after Hargrove to beat his face in. 
He protects his friends. Just like he punched that guy that tried flirting with Jonathan and groped him without consent. Like the girl that said nasty things to Robin at school and he dumped his drink all over her head. Like when he punched Steve’s father square in the face when he went to his house uninvited, only to see his father slapping Steve across the face after Steve came out as Bisexual.
He will always protect them, and now, you are included in that.
“I–” You had to snap your eyes shut as memories with Henry started coming back to your head, mixing up with the ones you have with Billy. You clenched your eyelids together as the memories turned painful with your resolve, with your heart. Eddie’s eyes twitched as he scooted closer to you but not touching you, even if he wanted to wrap his arms around you.
“You can do it, sweetheart.” 
And you finally let that sob out of your throat. That lump that you swallowed many times during the night, the lump of words that needed to be thrown out of your lips but did not have the bravery to do so. And once that sob was out, many more came out after, tears falling even when your eyes were shut.
He didn’t interrupt your tears, your sobbing, your crying. He didn’t interrupt you even when he thought you were running out of air, he just let you cry without invading your space. He let you finally break down in peace, in a safe place, and he is joyful that you find that safe place with him. He knows you are not being evil to Robin, he just knows how to read people and he knows what they sometimes need to hear.
You knew your face was a mess, your eyes were red, your nose was snotty, but you couldn’t help it. You were letting out feelings that you held in for the past two weeks. Feelings that you pushed to the back of your head because you didn’t even want to think about it, you didn’t even want to say them out loud, but they were a great fear. 
“I–” It was hard to talk, but you needed to do so. You needed to talk, to voice those fears out, to say what you are thinking, to say what you desire and what you are afraid of. Eddie noticed now that you were breathing irregularly, and even if he wanted to leave you alone, he didn’t want you to choke.
“Peach, I need you to calm down, slowly, you are choking on your breaths.” He now pressed a hand on your back, and you felt yourself feel lighter for some reason. Your sobs kept coming out as you took deep breaths in, but he was patient with you, guiding you every time you failed to take a long breath. 
You might have stayed like that for a whole twenty minutes but he never stopped rubbing your back, coaxing you into breathing, but he wasn’t making you stop crying. He wanted you to keep doing that but needed you to breathe properly. 
Your chest started going up and down slower and slower as time passed, a few sobs came out here and there, but the tears never stopped in quantity. They were waterfalls, just coming down and down, but you no longer cared. You didn’t.
And then Eddie finally saw your eyes again as you opened them. They were red, and glossy, your eyebrows were knitted together in the center of your forehead, and he noticed the pain that was being held inside of you. The grip on your back was a little harder now, but he reminded himself that he had to be gentle now, to push his own anger aside.
You looked out in the distance, and your throat was burning from all the sobbing, from all the crying, from holding that lump for so long, but it felt amazing. It felt as if a weight was lifted off your shoulders, of your head, of your body. But the weight in your heart was still there, and the only way to lift it–
“I’m scared…”
And Eddie’s ears perked up.
“What are you scared of?” And you took a deep breath in, and you finally opened your heart.
“All my life… I’ve always wanted kids. One, two… Maybe three.” A small smile appeared on your lips as you talked. “I know it’s cliché, but–”
“It’s not. It’s your dream.” Your eyes found his with surprise in them and he was looking back at you with an intense gaze you never saw from him before. You gave him a small nod and looked back down to your lap to continue.
“When I got together with Henry and when I got married… I was so happy, so excited. I told my mom how I couldn’t wait to start a family. Henry told me he wanted it too, that he always dreamt of being a dad.”
You cleared your throat as you felt another lump coming out thanks to the memories of Henry telling you all about the plans he wanted for his kids. Your mind was off again, lost in thoughts, and Eddie needed to get you out of there.
“He wanted kids like you…” Eddie pushed and you snapped back into conversation again, noticing you had stopped talking.
“Yes… He wanted them… Just not with me, it seems.” 
Eddie’s free hand turned into a tight fist, veins popping out from the strength. He can’t do anything about it, it was your past, it was done with, but the anger wasn’t any less. He really wanted to kill that man. He just wanted to rip his head off. 
“Peach–”
“And… with Billy– When I told him about this… He didn’t back away. He told me he wasn’t ready now, but that the idea didn’t scare him. That he always wanted…” A giggle escaped your lips as you remembered something and Eddie’s eyebrow raised up.
“What?” He was a little worried about your change in emotions, but maybe it was necessary for you.
“He told me he always wanted to name a kid of his, Eustace.” At that Eddie snorted, putting his free hand over his mouth as he shook his head.
“Okay, that is a horrible name. Poor kid.” He laughed and you didn’t hold back the giggle which turned into a sad frown as you tried to keep the sob in your throat. 
“Yeah…” Your eyes drifted down to your lap, and you noticed how you were fiddling with your fingers, trying to keep yourself moving in some way. You felt your stomach in a strange amount of knots, almost making you feel sick. “But now, I’m no longer with him.”
“Peach–”
“What if I never reach that dream of mine Eddie?” You were fully looking at him now, and his eyes almost widened at the fear he saw behind yours. Fresh tears slipped down your eyes as you shook your head at him. “What if it never happens for me?”
Eddie was speechless. He never expected to see you afraid of anything, much less about your own dreams and convictions. He was staring at you as you kept looking at him, letting him finally see the pains and the fears that always plagued your head, finally voicing out what you’ve been afraid of doing for the past weeks, for the past year.
“Sweetheart, I’m sure it will happen, you are young–”
“And what if it doesn’t? What if I get screwed over again and again?” You knew you sounded crazy but the what-ifs always tortured your mind. They were always like little knives trying to dive themselves into your scalp, twisting in order to get to your brain. 
“You don’t know that.” Eddie’s eyebrows pulled together in the center, slowly centering in the problem, realizing that… you had a reason to be scared.
“But what if!? I can’t– I won’t ever have children! And I don’t want to marry someone for the sake of it, I really don’t!” A sob escaped your lips, but you didn’t mind as you kept talking, “I can’t adopt on my own either because this fucking world sucks! Everything just fucking sucks Eddie!” 
And Eddie broke, his arms wrapping around your frame to pull you into him, your bodies twisting in order to face each other, but not uncomfortably. You welcomed the hug, your mind no longer in defense mode. There was no fortress now, the dam was broken, the armor you put on for the past year crumbled completely. 
One of his arms was wrapped on your shoulders to pull you into his chest, while the other stayed over your arm. Your hands went around his waist and found grip on his back, your face squashed in his chest while his chin rested at the top of your head.
And you cried.
And Eddie held you.
And you cried some more.
And Eddie never complained.
And you both had no idea how long you’ve held one another. You didn’t realize either how your cries made Robin and Steve sober up slightly and stand in alert at the door of your balcony while Eddie looked at them with a pained look in his eyes. You didn’t notice when Eddie shook his head towards them so they wouldn’t scare you away, so they wouldn’t stop you from crying.
Why with Eddie? Why did you break with him? How did he even manage to do it? Robin is going to be pissed at you again, and your mind was being evil to you because Robin was far from angry when she saw Eddie hugging you just now. She was relieved. She was relieved that she was hearing you cry.
You felt Eddie’s hand going up and down your arm, trying to calm you down, and your nails were digging into his waist, his hips, his back, trying to put your feet back into the ground, and he didn’t care. The pain that your nails caused him, he knew it couldn’t compare to what you were feeling right now. The fear, the sadness, the hopelessness of never getting what you most desire. 
That is something he knows perfectly well. For he has his own that he doesn’t know if he’ll ever get.
After a while your shoulders stopped shaking, your grip softened, and Eddie knew his shirt was drenched, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Who would have thought the woman he couldn’t stand months ago was now crying onto his chest as if the world was going to end and she had tons of regrets about things she didn’t fulfill. 
You slowly pulled away from him and quickly wiped your face because you knew all your makeup was smudged. You must look like a mess but there was no energy in you to be embarrassed about this. 
But fuck if it didn’t feel good.
You felt lighter than ever. Way lighter than when you were with Billy even. A fear that had settled deep into your stomach and you never voiced it out for him. You sniffled and stared down at your lap, your breaths still coming out like sighs out of your mouth. 
You felt his bent index finger rest below your chin and he raised your head so he could look at your face. Your pupils clashed with his and your stomach did a jump. Just one jumpy knot. Your eyes were puffy already, your lips were still trembling, and you were sniffling nonstop, but Eddie didn’t look disgusted or thrown off. He looked calm, yet you could feel a certain empathy, a certain understanding from how he was looking at you as if he was saying a silent ‘I know how you feel.’
“You’re still young, we all are, and you don’t know what the future holds, so being afraid of it is useless and fruitless.” 
And your eyes were looking into his, and you could see how he was always trying to be strong too, even when he knew what the future held for him and his uncle. You realized that Eddie had it worse than you… because he knew. He knows how it will end, and he is the one telling you to not think about your uncertain future.
“I’m sorry…”
It came out of your lips naturally, feeling selfish again for not realizing sooner how your words might affect him. He only gave you a small smile and with his thumb, he wiped one of your cheeks from the stains of your tears. 
“Nothing to be sorry for Peach. It’s normal to have fears… but you gotta let life give you some surprises, okay?” Eddie replied softly, and you felt calm in his voice, in his touch and you only wanted to rest against his shoulder because tiredness was slowly consuming you. He seemed to notice and he rested his back against the couch and patted his shoulder for you to rest on him. 
You couldn’t bother to feel ashamed, bothered, embarrassed, you needed the cuddle, the snuggle, the touch. You needed to feel warmth again, to feel care from someone towards you, from someone wanting to make you feel better, to console you.
You don’t even remember when you fell asleep.
It wasn’t until the next day that you were in bed, waking up groggily still in the same clothes from yesterday night that you realized you slept the night away and you didn’t even flinch when Eddie or Steve moved you to your bed. 
You groaned as you got up from the bed, feeling your throat as dry as a desert, only to almost fall to the ground when your foot hit something on the floor. You looked down with a gasp to see Robin sleeping with her mouth wide open and the spare futon under her. You contained a giggle as you tiptoed to your desk and got a marker out.
You kneeled down next to your best friend’s head and you slowly drew a mustache at the top of her lip. You smiled at your work of art and straightened up in order to go to your kitchen, only to stop in your tracks when you saw Steve sleeping on your living room couch and then Eddie…
He brought the balcony couch inside to sleep in.
Your features softened at seeing his sleeping face, soft breaths coming out from in between his lips, blocking Steve’s loud snores away. He could have gone home instead of sleeping cramped and uncomfortable on your small couch. He stayed despite that and is sleeping soundly in your living room. 
Your heart gave one thump. Two thumps. Maybe three. 
An hour later you were making some breakfast. You took your time to go down to the street and go to the small market in the corner to get some eggs and milk in order to make some waffles in your waffle maker. You got some syrup and powdered sugar, then blueberries and some bananas. 
It seems the smell of food woke Robin up, as always, and you heard her walking out of the room groggily but with a pleasant voice coming out of her mouth.
“Mmm, that smells so–”
And you turned around just in time as she cracked up in laughter, pointing at Steve’s face. Steve jolted awake, shooting up on the couch with his hair completely disheveled, only to then start laughing as well as he saw Robin’s face.
“What the fuck is that!?”
“Me!? What the fuck is on your face Harrington!?”
“Can the both of you shut the fuck up?” The last voice said in a really gruff tone that if it weren’t for the situation at hand, your knees would have buckled. Steve and Robin turned to look at Eddie only to snort loudly and then laugh even louder than before, making Eddie raise an eyebrow of his.
“Dude, your fucking face–” Steve choked out and then he immediately shut up, face falling. He rushed to get up and run to the mirror that was in a column of your living room. He yelled when he saw that all of his freckles were now connected all over his face and neck, like a constellation of some sort, a few childish stars drawn here and there.
Eddie’s eyes widened when he saw Robin’s mustache and got up as well, rushing to the mirror alongside her to check himself out. He had small horns on his forehead and his eyebrows were filled and put in the shape of an angered frown. He straightened up and your three friends turned to look at you as you started whistling while turning your waffle maker.
“Does anyone want waffles?”
At the lack of response, you slowly turned around to find Eddie already towering over you and you choked on a snort, closing your mouth tightly because he just looked like a cartoon right now.
“You think it’s funny?”
“A little.” At your response, Eddie gave a nod.
“Steve, Robin. Pin her down.”
You ended up having your face drawn on. Your forehead had a small crown at the corner, your cheeks had two hearts and for good measure, Eddie put his own touch to it all and drew a dick in the corner of your mouth.
And you all ate waffles with drawings on your faces.
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End of chapter 14
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princessvisionary101 · 8 months
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💘❤️‍🩹 Nuada x Disowned Human Princess reader who her parents and her sister neglect her.
Part 2 of ?
Summary: Your father wants your older sister to be the perfect queen to the Bethmoora clan. Your sister wants everything to be perfect for her. Your mother never wanted anything much. You however, want to know why your sister’s dream guy, or elf in that matter, wants your attention and your presence to himself.
@meowiemari @ccruzmoon @kitty-chan33 @ozzyynka @helios-dios-del-sol @fictional-hooman @philiasoul @bluebear142077 @personofyou @shiranai-atsune @all—that—jazz @ynskywalker1 @izzyshima @cora-witch @moodyblueberrytree @ajourneytobeweightless @the-lonely-abyss
Part 2 my people! Let’s make this a good one!
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While you two were walking in the hallways of the palace, you wondered if you could find many books about the Bethmoora clan.
Now don’t get it wrong, you didn’t want to learn the Bethmoora clan’s history because of some strategy or something to use against them, but learning more about other beings than just other humans was enough to dream about exploring the outside world.
Ϛ⃘๑•͡ .̫•๑꒜ℒℴѵℯ❤
Seems as though the advisor was a little concerned about what you were thinking. Probably curious instead since it’s been a long while since anyone showed pi Now don’t get it wrong, you didn’t want to learn the Bethmoora clan’s history because of some strategy or something to use against them, but learning more about other beings than just other humans was enough to dream about exploring the outside world. Who could blame him since he is the one who was technically force to guide you somewhere away from the important “royal meeting”.
“So your highness” he started but you hold up your hand quickly. “If you want you can just call me (y/n). Everyone back home usually doesn’t say your highness only for specific reasons.” You said before walking a little faster to catch up to him. “Oh? A may I ask why do you receive disrespectful treatment as though your title does not exist? Surely your parents must be furious about this sort of mishap with the servants I presume?”
You looked down while walking a little slower than usual. He had to slow down a bit to see your frown better.
“No I’m sorry.” You said while looking up at him with a small smile. “The clan may have seem to have good respect to their king and his children, but mine do not serve the same purpose but just to fetch me food and books from the library.”
“Ah I see then.” He stops in front of the library doors and turns to you in a look you can’t recognize. “Then please forgive me if I seem to have been shown to displease you in any way.” “Oh! Not at all!” You said waving yours hands in front of you while trying to choose your words carefully. “You were great help to me and great company as well! Thank you for showing me where the library will be at.” You both bow before he leaves and you went inside the room where still the knowledge you wanted to see can be found.
The library was very quiet and looks to be taken care of just like yours from back home. It seems as though it was used a lot , account of the books piled up on the tables and the many shelves that look almost like you were in a maze. It was messy, but it made you felt at home with the place you leave through the books filled with fantasy, drama, romance and surprises at every corner in every page.
And speaking of surprises in every corner-
“Can I help you human?” A baritone voice said that sounded more of a command then a question. You turned around and spot a elf with long white hair and a frown that makes it obvious you weren’t welcomed here.
“I’m sorry if I’m intruding you sir.” You bowed with your head hung low. You never got over the habit of apologizing to many people who deemed you as a nuisance. You have your sister to thank for that. “My name is Princess y/n and I am here to spend my time here while my family finishes a meeting. I’m very sorry again for intruding.”
You couldn’t tell if he was upset at you or looking at you at all since you still had your head hung low. Maybe he’s wondering what kind of Princess “hung her head low to a elf no less?”
Huh…he thought so too.
“We’ll I’m not allowed to join them while they discuss about important matters, especially with the king of your clan.” You responded, having no trouble sounding more reserved towards the gentleman who didn’t seem to be displeased at your presence nor didn’t seem to want to dismiss you from the library.
“Very well then,” he says sitting down at the chair across from you while you raise your head and see him walk to the table you are occupying and picks up a book from the table, “then I’ll just continue reading from this book while you bid your time reading from the others. I do recommend though that you don’t cause any disturbance that might upset the librarian.”
He states right before glaring at you with a very look of distrust. You can’t seem to read him that well. He doesn’t seem to have any problems with you staying but he also seems to be annoyed with you around. It’s a continual battle of whether to please him by departing and finding a new place to spend you time or just to stay and be quiet. Since technically you don’t know the place well, it shouldn’t hurt to stay quiet and just find a book to read; especially since he seems to already look irritated by just feeling your presence.
“Alright” You responded, “but I do really mean it about me leaving the room if I’m bothering you sir.” you then pick up a random book from the nearest shelf and start to read. He glances up at you before continuing to read his book.
You both end up reading in silence while the sun was shifting from the afternoon to later mid-day. You would occasionally pick a different book when you finished yours and start reading with a small smile upon your face. It seemed like forever ago when you would go to your library and read books that had questions that you wish to know. For example, you were curious about how pirates act nowadays or if there was really a treasure island for pirates to roam and search of.
While you were busy reading a plot twist in your book, you failed to sense a pair of eyes watching you from time to time when you scrunch up your nose or when your eyebrows furrow during a chapter of the story.
Once you found a stopping point, you raise your head to see those pair of eyes looking at you from across the table. It freaks you out at first because usually the looks you get are either in disgust or in denial of your heritage of your family. In this case, you couldn’t tell what he was thinking of what he felt about you.
“May I ask why you are staring at me sir?”
He closes his book and lays it on top of the table before he crosses his arm on top of them.
“Why aren’t you with your family in the dining room discussing with the king? Normally, most humans are with him trying to have an alliance with our people, especially princesses who generally aren’t found in a library to waste an hour.”
You looked down embarrassed by his remark targeted to you, well it would sound so, and closed your book so that you can try to focus on this elf man across from the table.
“Well for starters sir, my family have always left me out of their conversations, especially when they go on their outings when they have time to get together. I do try to talk to my maids or the butlers, but most of the time I see their displeasure in talking to me. This led me to see that I don’t fit into anyone’s expectations of a good daughter or a great princess in their eyes.”
You looked at him and was surprised that he seemed to pay attention to your words. How long ago did someone look at you and listened that same way this librarian was?
“And are you ok with the way you are treated? It doesn’t sound like you enjoy feeling ignored or disrespected by others, including your own servants whom you have the control over if I’m correct.”
“Maybe so” You responded with a genuine smile at him, “but I rather someone talk to me or like me not because they have to, but because they desire to do so.”
Before he could respond, a servant walks to him and whispers in his ear in the language you couldn’t understand before seeing that he probably is about to leave you alone. He walks with the other elf, and they start to chatter behind your back. It seemed suspicious since the servant kept glancing at you from time to time and the man would have a small frown every now and then. Their conversation probably isn’t a good one you thought. He comes back and takes the books he had in his arms, and you already notice that it’s a sign that he is about to leave.
“Oh! Are you needed elsewhere sir? I’m sorry to take much of your time if you were supposed to leave soon!” You stand up but he stops you before you did anything else strange.
“It is nothing that you should worry about, but yes, I am needed somewhere. However, my servant also told me that the meeting is done, and you are asked to meet your family at the dining room where the king is at.” He gives his servant the small stacks of books for them to put away before strolling over to you with his hand extended in your direction. You got confused for a bit until he chose to grab your hand and leave a gentle kiss on your palm. You never felt so flustered at the fact that a man, let alone a prince had left the touch of his lips linger on your hand before raising his head at your level.
“I hope you have a wonderful time here in the library and I would like to extend my gratitude for your honesty and kindness.” He then leaves you alone at the table, feeling bewildered at his change of attitude, and you start to wonder if what you said to him made him had a different view towards you. You don’t think about it even when you walk out of the library doors, and you hope that the way he talked to you wouldn’t be the last time someone treated you that way. It has been forever since someone didn’t mind your presence.
You’ll probably come to regret that thought once you realize what you’re really in for.
(Hello! Thank you so much for reading chapter 2 of the disowned princess reader x prince nuada silverlance. Now to keep my message short, I have been busy trying to work but currently I've been fired since I couldn't work full time and now I got time to myself :3 I also just started college, but since I got less homework, I will be trying to make more fanfics on this blog, including trying to finish this series which I come to enjoy.
I thank you all for enjoying the first chapter and I hope that ya'll continue to read and share my fanfic by reblogging it! See all of you soon and have a wonderful day!)
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MDNI
So I promise to write the Isekai pt. 2 next, but i had this idea skittering around the back of my brain and I- I just had to. Anyway. This is smut. Kiddos please leave and come back for the next episode.
cw: Completely gender neutral. Sexual content, descriptions of masturbation, oral (m receiving) and lots of praise.
Hope you enjoy~
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝
Link was a patient man. In every iteration and every universe, it was something that followed him each time— the ability to wait for the sake of a greater sense.To wait as his muscles burned so he could get the best strike. To redo the same puzzles over and over until the dungeon is complete. To learn every small detail about you, even the ones that are irrelevant to most, for even the chance at you loving him even a fraction of how much he adored you.
Loving you was easy. Partly because you made it so easy to be loved that it felt as if it were something inherent to him, written in his soul. Hyrule has walked the span of worlds and yet it was you who he found to be the most precious. Afterall, even among the exceptionality that was Hylia’s heroes, you were an outlier.
For long he waited, passing the time as you grew accustomed to your surroundings and made your place among the chain. The last thing he wanted was to make you uncomfortable. He would sooner relinquish his magic and bleed his soul into a cold earth than force himself upon you. He may have been raised apart from proper society, but he was no monster of his desire. He is better than that creeping urge beneath his ribs.
But that didn’t change that he could feel it flare when your knuckles brushed his when you’d tag long onto his inevitable wanders. He never found it easy to sit still, but teaming with energy and magic from a full heart meant it was all he could do, to wander. You didn’t need to follow as he went to embrace the world’s soft silence. And yet, wordlessly, you’d offer him your company and follow. You made him wonder, If two arms were not enough to grab a hold on life, perhaps four?
It became familiar to feel his heart lurch as you looked upon him with soft, loving eyes when he healed you. You’d mutter the quietest thanks, just for him to hear. A gift that once marked him as tainted or impure was one that you praised.
The people of his homeland were mean, crooked people. If you weren’t exactly like one of them, you had to be purged. He was shunned by most for his magic. He does not fault them for not trusting what they don’t know, but the bitter cold loneliness got to him more than he’d like to admit. It was many years before he learned to accept that his gifts were not faults as he’d been told. The sooner he shut out the cries of unhappy souls, the sooner he could be happy. Still, he thinks of how perfectly you defied their logic.
You were nothing like anyone he’d known. Strong and defiant, taking orders from only those whom you thought to be good leaders. But you knew when to pull back. How to listen and how to care for fragile things that do not care for themselves.
It was a surprise to quite literally no one that he fell. It was also secret to no one how badly he longed. Mainly in part to his own lovesickness, he was always horrible at suppressing his emotions. But he could endure Legend’s incessant teasing if it meant he could stare at you while the sun bathed your face in just the perfect light.
He was utterly hopeless, at your beck and call for any and all orders. In the society he hailed from, such behaviours were disgraceful of a man. But so long spent being a mistake of magic meddling with mortals meant he didn’t care what they branded him as, so long as he was yours.
He was patient.
Enough so he could watch a fondness beyond friendliness grow behind your eyes.
Enough that he could hold hands with you on late night walks.
Enough that eventually, he’d hold your hand as you travelled and lead you by the small of your back whenever you joined him on his rambles. He celebrated each little milestone, giddy despite his efforts to remain calm.
He could readily recall the first time he cradled one of your hands in his, a cold night’s walk as the first snowfall dusted on whichever Hyrule the chain had wandered into. A shiver racked your body, and he couldn’t find the self restraint to stop himself before grabbing both of your hands and cupping them in his own. He brought them to his lips, almost akin to that of prayer and blew hot air onto your chilled skin. The moment passed slowly as his heart fluttered like a fairy within his ribs.
“Let’s get you back to camp to warm up” He’s still surprised he could manage to suppress the tremble of his voice as he kept one of your hands and led you back. He remembers so clearly the look you passed him with wind-flushed cheeks before your eyes darted into the treeline.
It was not much later on that he realised that this one sided love of his was anything but unrequited. Unfortunate that it happened under the circumstances it did, but it was worth it in his eyes. He hopes that even in the situation where you wouldn’t be bleeding beneath him, he’d still recognize the yearning of your heart. It was hard to miss
the fluttering of your heart as his hands glided over the appropriate grounds of your skin. It was harder to miss the way your soul reached out towards him through the bridge of his magic. The sensation was so unexpected that he faltered for a second, the bond weakening. He welcomed you, his world, with open arms.
It was a longer while yet until he kissed you. Even then it was still debatable, as he didn’t initiate. This time, a humid summer evening. A chorus of critters and crickets accompanying his ramble. He’s still rather unsure what it was about fairy culture that made you reach out and cup the curve of his jaw, but he’d be a fool to complain. Especially considering how gently you kissed him afterwards, stopping him from leaning forward and closing the gap to admire his flustered face for a moment. And for that second, he was suspended in time, lost within the raw feeling of being alive. He’s sure he was shaky at first, but he grew a little more confident as you guided his hands to your hips. You did most of the work in hindsight, gently sucking and nipping at his bottom lip. All he’d ever known told him to be ashamed of the whine you pulled out of him as he squirmed beneath you, but the proud smirk you rewarded him with filled his heart with something other than shame… But it certainly burned equally as much.
He couldn’t stop his mind from wandering back to the clearing, no matter how much time had passed or what he tried to distract his thoughts with. Vividly he still feels the sweat clinging to his skin and the pressure on the side of his hips as you shifted to straddle him. Its hard to forget that amount of pure energy and magic rushing through his blood as his heart soared. He just couldn’t keep his thoughts off of you.
Mostly they were innocent: what flowers he could braid to make your crown, what gifts he could adorn you with… things that would make you smile.
But it was those odd nights he couldn’t quite wrangle his mind that he would instead wonder about what would make you keen. What he could do to have you squirming in your seat. Whether or not you’d prefer him be below you or above. Where exactly you’d prefer his hands and lips to explore.
It was now he truly understood the priminality of the mind scape. Things that under any circumstances would have been the former, his mind would skew into the ladder. Sleepy groans as you wake twisted into whines of pleasure as he indulged in drinking down your sweet release from his worship of your sex. Sly calls of his name in teasing being morphed into your beckoning as your hand works his cock.
He tried, hard as he might to shove such indulgences out of his mind. He’d never cross your boundaries.
But is it really crossing boundaries if you’d intentionally slip a hand between his thighs while cuddling?
Is his imagination that far off if you already suck at the sensitive part of his neck?
He did not wish to indulge in being so sacreligious as to deface your divinity. So, he’d resolved to cuddle you to sleep and slip away, as he had tonight. He’d never been particularly too fond about touching himself in any way intimately. It was seen as a sin back home to indulge in pleasure outside its most primal use of breeding. But especially when considering the roads he travelled on were uncharted and dangerous, he never had the time to ever succumb to temptation in the first place.
He fumbled with his pants, eventually freeing his erection that you’d spent the last ten minutes palming. The cold air of the night only served to make him more sensitive, his lungs sucking in the air through his teeth as he rested his head back against the tree he leaned on. Slowly, he loosened his hand from where it was balled up, tightly gripping at the grass beneath him. It was easier, moving his hand to caress the length of his dick, when he imagined it was you. Hylia- how badly he wishes it was you.
He spread his thighs, as if making room for you already as his thumb gently rubs the crown of his cock. He feels his blood pulse as he continues the motion, sending shocks shuddering over the webs that made up his nerves. He slips his hand lower down, groaning as he adds pressure in his grip. The calluses of his hands are rough, contrasting the sensitive skin.
He wishes that you would watch him. Tell him he’s doing it right, kiss the column of his neck and whisper into the shell of his ear how good he’s being.
He wants to be good for you, it’s all he’s ever wanted. Sure, it’s changed now in its deeper meaning— But being a good boyfriend and being a good boy can’t be that different, can they? The thought makes his head swim and go dizzy as his languid strokes turn eager and needy.
He squeezes his eyes shut and blocks out the world to focus on you. Stunning, perfect, intoxicating you. He recalls every raspy whisper telling him how well he’s learning for you, every passing praise he’s collected. He imagined you behind him, working your hand up and down at this painfully stimulating rhythm while telling him you pretty he his as he whines your name.
All it’d take is your order for him to sing your praises and he’s moaning out his begs. His whimpers could be your hymns as he falls to his knees and worships your heat dripping with slick pre-cum. For his offering to you, he’d stay there as your fingers tug at the roots of his hair, letting you cum all over his face as his dick is left neglected. Perhaps if you were truly gracious, you’d let him hump against your leg.
His back arches as he lets out a throaty whine of your name. He sputters and grinds his hips against his hand as ropes of cum spurt from his cock. He pants, his eyes fluttering open as his fuzzy vision works toward refocusing. His blurred senses snap back to normal as a hand cups his jaw and turns his head to the right. Your eyes are half lidded as you scan over his body and the mess he’d made.
“Awe look at you” Your voice purred as your other hand combed through his wavy locks. His swallows thickly as he tries to decipher the expression on your face. What if you hated him? What if he’s too sinful for you? What if you don’t want him anymore? What if- But he finds not an ounce of dismay.
“You sounded so pretty… wailing my name as you came everywhere” His face flushed and his rapid train of thought halted, going to a complete silence.
“I- Hylia- I’m so sorry sunshine-“ He stammered out, only for you shut him up with a kiss, whispering assurances between breaths. He can feel your lips brush past his own as you mumble words of loving adoration. You nip slightly at his bottom lip as your tongue slides into his mouth, exploring his own. One hand finds purchase on his hip bone as the other stays tangled among his hair. He chances your lips as you pull back, tongue darting out to lick his saliva from your lips.
“You look so nice all dazed like this,” You tease as his head spins with you. The hand in his hair slides down to tilt his chin up, exposing his neck.
“Do you mind if I mark you up a bit?” he’d be a fool to ignore the glint in your eye, nothing pure he’s sure of it.
“Fuck- Please” Your thumb presses into his mouth and onto the very tip of his tongue as your lips suckled at the side of his neck. He can’t think of tomorrow’s embarrassment as he tries to hide the marks. His foggy mind can only focus on how amazing your lips feel as they leave bruises and the way his nerves jump when you bite him gently. He tries to beg for more as you lean away, but is stopped by the soft pad of your thumb. He swipes the tip of his tongue across it one last time before it’s removed, much to his dismay.
“Would you like some help?” You ask, bemused as the hand on his hip spread out, your palm flat against the lowest part of his abdomen. He didn’t even notice that he’d gotten hard again. Let alone that he had been arching his back.
“Don't be nervous. I want to make you feel good” Your thumb, still damp with his spit, caressed his cheek with sincerity. Your eyes held nothing but a genuine love. He nodded slowly, eyes wide as they stared back into your own.
“Use your words for me love, I wanna hear you”
“Please- shit m’ so- ah~” His begs were coked from his throat as your hand finally dipped down to fondle his balls. You sunk to right between his thighs, pressing a kiss to the very inside of either one.
“So good of you getting all prepped for me” You cooed, your hands rubbing circles into his thighs and massaging out the tension from being splayed open for so long. You pressed a gentle kiss to the tip of his cock, your tongue licking away the bit of pre-cum that followed. You smiled and licked the underside of his length along his veins all the way back up to the head.
“Mnh- Please”
“Please what, dearest” You knew what you were doing, sucking only when he tried to beg for more, reducing him to moans.
“M- mph~ More!” You grinned as he finally got the word out through choked whines.
“Alright” Finally, you took him into the wet heat of your mouth, flattening your tongue as you took him as deep as you could manage, your hands working what you couldn’t. Only to sink back up to focus on the tip while a rush of cold met his shaft.
“F- Ah~ Please” He cried as he rocked his hips, pleading to be returned to your wet mouth. His hands threaded into your hair as you sank back down. He tried his hardest to stop his hips from sputtering, lest he choke you. But something within his mind snapped as he stood at the precipice of pleasure. His hips bucked into your mouth, relishing in the warmth.
When his mind finally cleared and caught back to consciousness he was back at camp, all cleaned up. He was in fresh clothes and felt no stickiness on his skin. Your hands worked carefully as they carded through his hair, twirling at the untamed and uneven cuts. He groaned as a wave of exhaustion rolled over his bones.
“Sh sh” You eased from behind him. He was cuddled up on your chest, starfished over you.
“I cleaned you up and brought you back. You alright? Water? Snack?” He buried his face into the crook of your neck as he shook his head. This is where he was supposed to be, not waiting about for some sake of superficial love or false marriage. He was supposed to be here, loved in your arms.
“You did so well for me,” You pressed a tender kiss to his temple “I love you so much.”
“I love you too sunshine” He mumbled into your skin as sleep dragged him away.
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youaintnothinbuta · 5 months
Text
“What're ya doing out by yourself at this time, anyway?” — elvis x reader
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Summary: you have to walk home from work late at night and get a bad vibe from a guy who won’t seem to stop following you, you look for anyone who can act like they know you and Elvis himself just so happens to be that person. He walks you home and makes sure you’re safe
Pairing: Elvis Presley x fem!reader
Word count: 809
Warnings: fluff, drabble, probably typos sorry <3
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The chilly Memphis night enveloped you as you exited the bar, clutching your coat tightly against the cool wind. The deserted streets echoed with the distant hum of nightlife, and your footsteps seemed to amplify in the silence. Reluctantly, you stayed back to help the bartender close up shop, leaving you to navigate the midnight streets alone.
As you walked through the town, a sense of unease settled in. You couldn’t help but have a nagging feeling that someone was trailing behind you. You cautiously crossed the street, hoping the distant footsteps would fade away. But, to your dismay, they persisted. You were smart enough to know not to show any signs of panic, not to look around, not to let him know you felt vulnerable, you just needed to find people, or a person, anyone that wasn’t the creep behind you.
Without turning your head, your peripheral vision looked to your right, you could barely make out the neon sign of a bar. You set that as your new destination, figuring it was probably better you didn’t lead this man straight to your home. As you approached this bar, you became rushed, trying to get to this place as quick as possible, just to be with other people. There were no other women standing outside, just a few small crowds of men, though you could hear some women singing upstairs.
Summoning a cheerful, girly tone, you interrupted their discussion, “I'm so sorry to bother you, but could you gentlemen please make it look like you know me? I feel like I'm being followed.”
The man in the grey jacket, a pink shirt peeking from underneath, immediately responded, his hand curling over your shoulder in a reassuring manner. "By who, honey?" he asked, his eyes holding a gentle smile as he skillfully played along. It was then that you noticed his striking features – it was Elvis Presley.
Stammering, you explained the situation, “Th- there was a guy, behind me, I don’t know if he’s still— I’m sorry,” your eyes glancing toward the suspicious figure trailing you. His eyes scanned the street and the footpath behind you. Sure enough, there was a man lent up against the wall of a store, looking suspicious, about a hundred metres down the street. “I see. What're ya doing out by yourself at this time, anyway?”
With a shake of your head, you replied, “Only just finished work. I can't drive home; my car's with the mechanic.”
Elvis raised an eyebrow, “They didn't offer you one to loan?”
You shook your head once again. “Alright, little one, let's get you home. Come,” Elvis insisted.
Protesting, you said, “Oh, no, thank you, I can walk. I just need him off—“
"Naw, honey, not gonna let you walk home alone. You come with me now," Elvis interrupted, his voice firm yet comforting. And so, in the dim glow of Memphis' neon lights, you found yourself in rather unexpected company.
Elvis, with an air of chivalry, nodding to B.B. King that he’d be back, guided you away from the bar and into the quiet streets. As you walked together, the night seemed less intimidating.
“I appreciate this, Elvis,” you confessed, the gratitude evident in your voice.
“No problem at all, darlin'. Now you seem to know my name, it’s only fair I know yours,” he replied, a warm smile playing on his lips.
“Y/N.” You spoke, he repeated it back to you with a smile. As you strolled through the dimly lit streets, Elvis engaged you in easy conversation, sharing anecdotes, as you showed him the way to your home.
Reaching your doorstep, Elvis offered a genuine smile, “Here we are, darlin'. Now, you take care, alright?”
Gratitude welled within you as you fumbled for your keys, “Thank you so much, Elvis. You really went out of your way.”
Elvis chuckled, “Honey, it’s really no big deal. Now, before I leave, how about I get your number? Just so I can check up on you tomorrow, make sure that fella's not causin' you any trouble.”
Blushing, you exchanged numbers. The exchange lingered, creating a moment that felt suspended in time.
“Alright, darlin', you get inside and get some rest. I'll give ya a bell tomorrow,” Elvis said, his parting words filled with genuineness.
As you stepped into the warmth of your home, the door closing behind you, a mix of emotions swept over you—gratitude, awe, and a hint of disbelief.
You debated waking your sister up, who was also your housemate, to tell her, but figured this one might be best kept to yourself. Instead, you locked up, got ready for bed and tucked yourself in tightly, replaying the events in your mind, the echoes of Elvis' voice and the shared laughter lingering in your thoughts.
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Okay okay request tiem!! So like, first of all, hope you're doing well fjkebd-- second of all, how would vil, jamil and idia react to a mc in the self aware au (already in their universe) drawing and or painting them, telling the constant compliment over how pretty or nice they are to draw, doodle them in their notebooks when taking notes and so on.
Idk it's like a thing I do with my friends, so I wanna know what they'd do n all, fbnebd thank u!! <3<3<3<3<3
Self-aware au
I do not take any responsebility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!
WARNINGS: Yandere themes, murder, stalking, obsession, unhealthy relationship, manipulation, isolation
Jamil Viper/Vil Schoenheit/Idia Shroud-Player draws and constantly tells them compliments
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Ok, so we are throwing away our independance today (not something I would recommend but you do you)
Jamil is used to stand in the shadow of Kalim, heck, even his own parents thought that the future sultan was more important than their son
When you were suddenly standing in front of him he was already shoked enough, almost dropping the tray filled with food for his employer
Let us just say that Scarabia is in constant danger of going up in flames after that
Oh why? Well he just, more or less, quit without handing in the piece of paper that usually says “Mhm sorry bro but I’m leaving. The pay was never good tbh”
Yes, he is still employed but the person he is serving in truth is you, leaving Kalim alone with the stove
And since most of the people reading this probably don’t have a butler we are of course impressed by his skills
No wonder Al-Asim can’t do stuff on his own, Jamil is spoiling you into dependance!
So what do you do when you are impressed? You compliment whoever had that affect on you
That is already bad enough in itself but now you are also drawing him? Doodeling him into your notebooks? (He defenitely checks them)
Did you want him to be your 24/7 caretaker who takes your freedom away or what?
Somehow it is possible that those actions are making him even more focused on taking care of you
Has defenitely taken one of the paintings and hid it just for him to see
But please lay the mop down. He is here to take care of the dorm and you just need to live a comfortable life
What do you mean he does everything? Just rely on him and don’t meet with others, they just get your clothes dirty and make scratches in the freshly waxed floor boards
Also, isn’t he here? Why would you need anyone else? Uh… sorry there is something in his eyes. Could you take a look?
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Vil is pretty used to compliments and also has defenitley gotten fanart before
But if it’s you? The hecking Mona Lisa in his eyes
So how did he get close enough to you to recieve such things?
Two words, one meaning: overall care
Like this man is polishing you like his life depends on it
It’s already bad enough that you are living in that dirty place but you can’t even afford simple self care! (We ignore for now that his defenition of “simple” is worth the rent of an ordinary person)
But the man wants- no, is determined to scrub the dust of the ruin away and uncover the shining diamond under all that filth
And since we all are bound by social beauty standarts (and don’t want skin deseases connected to dirt) we are (most likely) very thankful for his hard work
So one day he came into your room, a bottle of hand lotion in his perfectly manicured clutches, and ran straight into your mirror
Oh you are curious why? Well you just threw a compliment and “thanks” at his head
But it’s probably you more freaked out because whilst he did get a scratch on his face he didn’t even care
Once you start do NOT stop!
If you do he will think that you have found someone else whom you consider better company
And remember that huge green house they have? There is probably something in there capable to make you… uh… “stay close to him”
Also, those third years you have asked for the way to your next classroom have been found “with their red paint outside their bodies” and their hearts missing, suspicious arrows sticking out of them
But what did you expect? The Fairest Queen was also pretty possessive of her status as the “most beautiful” and what is there to stop him in following her footsteps? Just maybe not with beauty…
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So either you wanted to roast marmellows in a very extreme way or you wanted to burn the whole building down
But here he is, probably already having reached the melting point of stone and still staring at you
Are you seriously suprised? This is Idia we are talking about
You are a God to Idia, a flawed one but still higher than even Hades… that guy is literally death
And he also thinks that he is very unattractive so you might as well tell Lilia to leave his iron sticks away unless he wants to rshape them
How are you still alive standing in thnis heat??!
It is already hard enough to just get in contact with him but somehow you did
Idia is not used to get paintings drawn of him and only Ortho would be able to convince him to get a picture done of him
But now here you are, telling him that you admire his skills with electronics
I hope you brought your marmellows because I forgot mine at home
When he was just creepely looking at you from time to time then say goodbye to privacy after this
You see, strays also come back to you if you fed them once and Idia is just as starved for attention as a stray is for food
But what exactly is he supposed to do? Well…
You remember that phone Crowley gave us over the winter holidays? He never took that one back
Even though Idia knows he shouldn’t do this and feels bad he just can’t stop
Stop looking at you, stop watchig you, stop craving the warmth you gave him on that fatefull day
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f0point5 · 5 months
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Okay so this is totally a suggestion and you don't have to do it but i LOVE reading this in books so i thought i'd request it and maybe you could write it as like a written piece (the ones you said youd post after the fic is finished) (please and thank you a lot if you do)
So i love reading chapters where one of the love interests just feels comfortable sleeping/ napping with their potential significant other there and them like covering them with a blanket, making sure not to move to not wake them up, and just looking at them while the other is sleeping and just being grateful to have them in your life
I love it so much
This would have been a bit hard to do as an smau part that would be long enough but I also love this in fics so I’m hoping you enjoy this version instead!
~~~~~~~~
Another Sunday, another race won, even if this time you weren’t there to see it. You’re glad he won Silverstone, if only to see the devastated faces of everyone who doubted him.
You had considered going. You’d tried to consider it, anyway. Part of you felt guilty for not being able to go back there when Max had to, and did so easily. He said he understood, but you were sure he didn’t, you prayed he didn’t. It was embarrassing, how even thinking about that track brought back a visceral terror, a feeling your body seemed to remember better than the words to your favourite song. You could still taste the bile, throwing up in a rubbish bin outside the medical centre. You could still see his car careening towards the barrier. You could still hear the silence on the radio. Pathetic, maybe, but you’d never go back. Max had never even asked.
It’s only now, really, on the flight back to Monaco, that you feel really relaxed and you can tell Max feels the same. You’re going through your notes on the race, explaining the battles happening thirty seconds behind him as he lies on the coach across from the four seats around the table where you sit in the window seat.
“I think they really should have pit him earlier because he had decent pace all race, I was checking the lap times. And I know you’ll say it’s just Ferrari being Ferrari but I can’t exactly say that on the podcast. Not before Monza at least. From your perspective, what-“
Your words are interrupted by the softest of snores.
You turn to Max, only to notice he’s fallen asleep. Snorting, you open your mouth to say something to no one in particular, when you stop yourself.
He looks so young when he’s asleep. Unburdened and almost reachable, like the years and success have melted away from him. His full lips are slightly parted, his criminally long eyelashes casting tint shadows on his cheeks. You wonder, not for the first time, what a man like him could possibly have left to dream about.
Unfolding your legs as delicately as you can so they don’t cause the leather chairs to squeak, you shuffle over the empty chair to get up.
You’re careful to move silently, not even too quickly in case too much air hits Max’s face and causes him to stir. That’s how delicate of a sleeper Max is, so alert that he needs silence, darkness, and stillness to even have a chance at resting. Just like the cats, he moves at any small stimulus.
You pick up the Hermès blanket that’s folded on the corner of the couch and unfurl it. You’re not even sure why - the plane is already warm - but the need to contribute to his comfort is instinctual after all these years. Even back in the days when you relished in his discomfort there was a compulsion to fix it that you steadfastly ignored.
If there was one person on this earth who never deserved to be cold, or hungry, or sad, it was Max. History was littered with people who’d never come out the other side of what he had, and you were convinced none had ever come out of it so unbroken yet so soft. You know you hadn’t. That was the thing about Max that you liked, he had a kind heart but it didn’t need protecting, just company.
You drape the blanket over him gently, placing it up to his shoulders, hoping it doesn’t disturb him, but he doesn’t so much as shift. He must be exhausted.
When you finally settle back into your seat, you pull out your laptop, but think better of working in case the sound of typing wakes him up. Your nails tend to stab at the keys and Max is a delicate sleeper. Instead, you connect your headphones and turn on Netflix, careful to avoid all the shows you and Max watch together. You scroll past Drive to Survive and can’t resist a roll of your eyes before they fall on a sleeping Max again. This, ladies and gentlemen, is your villain.
You choose a romantic comedy, curling up into your seat to get an extra bit of warmth. As the credits roll, you really wish you had a blanket.
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