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lemonlover1110 · 3 months

Text

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏

Sukuna

Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader

Summary: Your deity calls you to his presence to worship him.

Warnings: MDNI, Smut, two-dick sukuna, bit of a size kink, spitting, oral sex (m. receiving), handjob, biting, gagging, vaginal sex, squirting, creampie

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“My lord.” You get on your knees, bowing your head in the presence of the deity. You were called to his presence, and you feel as if your heart is about to beat out of your chest while you’re in his presence. It feels as if his eyes burn into your skin when his gaze falls on you.

There’s a smirk on his face as he looks down arrogantly at you. Arrogance has always been a trait that you’ve looked down upon men, but Sukuna does not fit in with men. He’s anything but a man. He’s a God, a being worthy of praise and worship.

“I’ve been waiting for you.” His deep voice makes your breath catch up in your chest. You hear the amusement in his voice, which brings out a worry from deep within you. You’ve caught glimpses of the deity, a swift motion from him could snap you in half. “Rise.”

You get off your knees, keeping your head lowered. You respect him– You fear him. You were always taught that you couldn’t respect someone without fearing them first, and Sukuna has your utmost respect. You’ve heard the horror stories about him, the fear that he’s caused. The fear that he still causes today; it’s the reason why you stand before him, out of fear and… oddly enough, admiration.

“Lift up your head.” He says, and while you’re confused, you don’t hesitate in doing so. Not following his orders in a manner of seconds could result in much worse. Your eyes slightly widen at the clear sight of him, he’s everything you’ve imagined and more. He’s smirking at you, and you wonder why he suddenly shows interest in you. “Tell me your story.”

“My lord, it’s nothing interesting.” You answer, and your face grows hot as you bite your tongue. You know immediately that’s the wrong answer, yet you can’t bring yourself to immediately apologize. The smirk fades away as a frown overtakes his face.

“I didn’t ask. I gave you an order and you must follow it. Do you not know the rules of this place?” He doesn’t raise his voice like you’ve heard before.

Sukuna has seen you around, and it’s fair to say that he’s taken a liking to you. You look so soft and so sweet standing to the other servants he keeps around, but it’s not just that… It’s something else about you. He can’t quite put his finger on it.

“I apologize, my lord.” You bow down your head, and when you lift it up, a sigh leaves your lips. He grows impatient, but he knows you’re about to speak, therefore he gives you a couple of seconds to speak. “You wreaked havoc in my old village”

“Out of fear? Is that it?” He sounds disappointed with the answer. He expected more… Yet when he looks at you, there’s this certain spark in your eye, making him lay his head on his fist as a smirk overtakes his face again. That’s not all.

“Not just that, lord. But admiration.” You confess. Admiration… It’s odd to come from you. As pretty as a flower, yet you admire a monster– Though he prefers the word God. “I was married to this man and well… You took care of that problem.”

“Forced marriage?” He questions and you shake your head. It’ll sound like a sob story which makes you hesitant to speak up, but you know you can’t shake your head and not give more details.

“We were in love, until we got married and he decided that he didn’t like me all that much.” You share, and he grows even more interested. “He had several problems between women and drinking, bringing shame upon my name. But then you came along, my lord.”

“Come here.” He orders, and you walk over to him. Once in front of him, your heart races even faster. Your legs feel weak, and you feel like you might pass out right in front of him. He’s even bigger than you imagined. His top right hand grabs your neck, and you almost cry out of fear, but unexpectedly, the hand goes under your chin, and tilts your head up. “Did you bear children?”

“I was unable to fulfill that task, my lord.” You tell him, too ashamed to admit that it’s the reason why your late husband lost all interest in you. That’s all he needs to know, that was the root of your problem. One swift look at you, and he knows you’re not the reason of it, but rather your late husband’s fruitless seed.

“Aren’t you a wicked woman? Worshiping the monster that killed your husband.” He fights back on smiling. He likes that. He finds some sick and twisted pleasure from it. Truthfully, it’s not the worst thing that Sukuna has smiled about. Maybe it’s the worst thing that has made him aroused though.

“I don’t view you as a monster, my lord.” You respond, and he cocks his eyebrow. “You’re a God. No monster could ever compare to you.”

“Hmm… You’re right.” A guttural laugh comes from him. You begin to feel proud at the fact that you’ve made him laugh. He begins to like you more and more by the second.

He licks his lips, looking you up and down. There was a reason he saved you and took you in as a servant. He called you in for a reason, he was going to fuck you even if he found you boring, but luckily for him, you’re even better than what he imagined. He orders, “Worship me like a God then.”

“I’ll do anything you need me to do, my lord.” You respond, and you watch him undo his robes. You expected this the moment you were called by Uraume to show up before him. Either this, or your demise. You’ve heard rumors that Sukuna has taken many lovers– Partners is the most appropriate word, either way, you didn’t expect him to lay his eyes on you.

“Do what you must.” He tells you, your eyes landing on the two dicks that stack up on each other. You shouldn’t be shocked, but your eyes can’t help but linger on it. You’re curious, yet excited.

You’re not sure how to proceed at first so you do what you’ve usually done. You spit in your hand before your lips meet his, and Sukuna is taken back by it. Do you not know where your mouth is supposed to go or…? Your tongue moves past his lips and enters his mouth, pressing against his while your hand wraps around his top cock.

Your hand begins to stroke his cock while your tongue wanders around his mouth. When you pull away, you get on your knees to put his bottom dick in your mouth. Your tongue circles around the tip, getting his precum on your tongue. You look up at the man, the expressions on his face telling you that he’s particularly sensitive. You kiss the tip of his cock before taking in as much as you can in your mouth.

Sukuna grabs the hand that strokes his cock, and guides it, setting a pace that’s more pleasing for him. He notices just how small you are compared to him, and it fucking drives him wild. Your free hand cups his heavy balls before you begin to massage them. He grabs the back of your head, pulling your mouth away from his bottom dick.

“Top one needs attention too, bitch.” He tells you, and you switch. Your mouth wraps around his top dick while you begin to jerk off the bottom one. It’s a bit overwhelming since it’s so much for you, but you’re enjoying the experience.

You’re looking up at him, reading his every expression. He looks at you as if you were inferior, someone that’s barely even worthy of his consideration. It’s because you are– Though you can’t read the fact that Sukuna is fighting back from making any noise.

Sukuna groans as you attempt to take more in your mouth. It’s not all, but it’s enough to bring tears to your eyes from gagging. Sukuna chuckles when he sees the tears that stream down your face as you try your best to bring him the most pleasure you can. What you’re doing is doing wonders, but not for the reason you think. One of his hands goes to the back of your head, and he forces your head to stay. Your eyes look the prettiest when they cry because of him.

“Doing a better job than I expected.” Sukuna says, letting go of your head. You take your mouth off his cock, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his shaft. You begin to jerk both of his cocks off while you lean up to try and kiss him, but his thumb presses down on your bottom lip before telling you, “Open up.”

You open your mouth, sticking your tongue out which allows him to bring his lips together and spit in your mouth. It’s a gift from him to you, one that you gladly accept. He orders you to swallow, and you do so without a problem. You’re a blind follower to his word.

You’re about to focus on his cocks again, but he forces you up. He wants more. Something different. He rips the cloth that covers you to pieces, and before you can even properly process it, Sukuna has you sitting on his lap. You squeeze your thighs together, a sudden shyness taking over you. As quickly as you shut them is as fast as he spreads them apart, “Too late for you to be shy now, woman.”

Two of his long fingers run through your slick folds, gathering your wetness. He isn’t all that surprised that you’re already wet, you’re about to be fucked by your God, of course you’re excited. Your slick goes down to your asshole and he begins to tease it. He wants to bury both of his cocks within you, but he knows that it’ll take a little more adjusting. He isn’t completely ruthless, and sometimes has compassion for things he cares about– Not that he cares about you, but he doesn’t want to hurt you either.

Sukuna’s tongue glides from your shoulder to your neck, his bottom set of arms lifting you up. The tip of his cock runs through your folds, and he bites down on your neck when he pushes his cock inside of you. You loudly moan as he fills you up.

“Is it too much for you? I think you can handle it for your God.” Sukuna says, not giving you a moment to adjust before he begins to bounce you on his cock. He isn’t the type to give out praises, but fuck, you feel so fucking good around him. Almost like a fucking virgin.

Your nails dig into the supple flesh of his arms, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as his cock hits every right spot. You’re meant to be pleasing him, yet he’s making you feel euphoric. He’s so generous with you, you don’t remember the last time someone made you feel this good.

“Oh, fuck– Sukuna!” You yell out, and he doesn’t recall ever giving you permission to use his name. But it’s pretty when it rolls off your tongue so he’ll allow it to happen just this once. Perhaps if it was someone else the situation would be different, but he’ll be generous with you this one time.

Two fingers enter your mouth with the sole purpose of shutting you up. His mouth goes to your ear and he scolds you, “Don’t ever fucking use my name without my fucking permission, stupid bitch.”

He bites down your earlobe gently. He’s too much for you to handle. He moves you with his bottom set of arms, one arm has the hand that gags you, and his final arm goes down, two fingers beginning to play with your clit. You didn’t think that sex with a deity would be so… You’re practically out of the world. You feel as if you’ve ascended to heaven.

Sukuna takes his fingers out of your mouth, moving the hand down to stroke the cock that’s being left out. Being nice comes at a cost to his pleasure, and it’s fair to say that the selfish man doubts he’ll be doing it again.

Your walls begin to tighten around him, your climax quickly approaching. You have never felt so fucking good before, especially not with a man. You know Sukuna can’t be considered a man though.

“Fuck– I’m gonna–” You begin, and before you can even finish your sentence, you squirt all over him. Sukuna can’t help but chuckle, smacking your cunt as you release the liquid all over him. That’s certainly a first for him, although it’s not surprising since in sex he always cares about receiving and never about giving.

You keep holding on to him, your sharp nails nearly digging blood from his skin. He’s grunting, his release near. You feel so fucking good around him, better than he expected. He can’t help but tell you, “Next time, I’m putting both of them in.”

The thought is driving you wild, yet you’re already excited even when he isn’t done with you yet. Sukuna loudly groans when he reaches his climax, cum shooting out both of his cocks. He fills your cunt up, while some of his cum goes to waste in the air. He’ll make sure that he’ll completely stuff you next time though.

Sukuna keeps his cock buried inside of you, catching his unregulated breath. He speaks into your ear, “Look at me, being nice to a little bitch and not completely stuffing her. Next time you’ll have to handle both.”

“I’m sorry, lord.” You respond, and he laughs.

“You did a good job.” He can’t help but compliment you since he hasn’t felt this good in a while, and you’re over the moon with his praise.

“Thank you.” You reply, fighting back the big smile that threatens to come on your face. Sukuna takes his cock out, and he chuckles as he sees that your clothes are shredded to pieces. “I have to–”

“I’ll call a servant for a new robe for you. Nobody can see you naked but me.” He interrupts you. His hand goes under your chin and he tilts your head to look at every side of your face, “Don’t want anyone to look at my wife naked.”

“Huh?” Your eyes widen, caught off guard with his words.

“I’ve decided that you’re going to be my wife.”

#ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #jjk sukuna #sukuna smut #jujutsu sukuna #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n

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chvrryzpop · 3 months

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BRUTAL

c. sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: Chris got into a fight with his girlfriend Paige and you comforted him until things led to another...

warnings: dom!chris, angst, smut, fingering, degrading kink, make out, pet names, cheating, alcohol, use of y/n, throwing up, toxic relationship.

not proofread!

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You were at a house party that a few friends of the triplets organized. You were near the drinks table with Nick and Madi while Matt, Chris, and his girlfriend Paige were on the other side of the house. The thing is that you’re drunk right now and you can't help but stare at Chris, the way he caresses Paige's waist, the way he leans to whisper dirty little things to her, you want that, you want to be the one that he says those things, you want to be the one he can touch, love, crave for.

And it killed you that she was perfect and you felt like you would never be like her.

Little did you know...

“Y/n!” Nick snaps you out of your trance waving a hand across your face.

“Sorry, sorry! What were you saying?” You asked while you kept glaring at Chris’ direction.

“Do you want to play beer pong with us?” He asked once again

You nodded and that's when you saw Chris leaving with Paige upstairs.

Ouch.

This shouldn't be affecting you this much, but it hurts like hell. You can’t even recall when you started to feel this way about him, but it drove you crazy.

“Sure, but I kinda need some water…” And that’s when you felt it, your stomach turning, feeling the lump forming in your throat, this was the moment where your decision to get drunk would make you suffer the consequences for it. Kneeling on the floor, wrapping your arms around your stomach, feeling the acid making you gag, your first instinct was to pick up your cup and throw up on the inside, If you were going to humiliate yourself, the least you could do was to not make a mess on the fucking floor.

Feeling the sensation wear off slightly after literally throwing up your intestines (or at least that’s how it felt) you tried to stand up. Failing miserably, causing Nick and Madi to pick you up and rest your left arm around Nick’s shoulders and your right arm on Madi’s shoulders, trying to carry you to the bathroom as fast as they could.

Chris' POV

I went upstairs with Paige since she needed to talk to me. I think I’ve never felt so anxious in my life as I do right now. That’s when we got there and the conversation in reality was just Paige complaining about a trip I was going on with my brothers in a few days. “I just don’t understand why can’t you stay here with me!” she yelled.

“I already told you a few weeks ago that I’m not canceling another trip with my brothers just because you feel like not letting me go, you’re not my fucking mother to tell me where I can go or not, what I can do or not! Because guess what, Paige, I can do the fuck I want.” I snapped back, making Paige turn around and slap me harshly, leaving a red mark across my cheek.

I held my cheek, not feeling slightly shocked anymore since this started way back ago, I could tell by her face that she regretted it instantly.

“Chris, baby…” she tried to place her hand on the spot where she marked, making me pull away from her touch.

“And now you just gave me more reasons to go on that fucking trip,” I added between sobs, trying to hold back the tears, turning my back to her.

"Please, don't leave me… I can fix this..." She gripped my arm.

"As far as I remember, you mentioned the same thing last time we fought." The resentment showed up in my voice, but I couldn't help it. How could someone so perfect turn into a complete monster? How can someone hurt someone they love?

And when I left the room, I would rather not see her face or hear her voice.

Y/n’s POV

You were in the bathroom throwing up while Madi was making you a ponytail and Nick rubbed your back. This night couldn’t get any worse. “Shit,” Nick murmured as you let your head rest on his shoulder, feeling way better than how you were.

“What?” Madi asked, her voice sounding tense.

“Matt just texted me we’re leaving right now.” You sat up straight, panicking, “What do you mean? I thought we all agreed to go until 1:00 AM…”

He scratches the back of his neck, “Yeah, well, there’s a change of plans.”

You checked your phone, and it was only midnight, “You guys should convince Matt if we can go in 30 minutes?”

They looked at each other and then back at you, “We won’t leave you here, y/n.”

“I’ll be fine, guys don’t need to worry about me.” You smiled at both of them.

Nick shook his head. “I’ll just text Chris to ask him if he can try to convince Matt to let us stay a little longer.” He spoke as he started to type on his phone. “We’re not leaving you here alone, end of the conversation.”

"Alright, Dad," you replied jokingly, having as a response an eye roll from Nick as he was about to laugh.

Thirty minutes had passed, and the three of you were still inside the bathroom waiting for Chris’ answer. “Did he text you already?” You asked as you rinsed your mouth with some mouthwash to get rid of the disgusting sour taste you had.

"Yes, and he's giving me a headache already!" Nick answered as he kept texting back and forth with whom you supposed was Chris, "He won't stop being a fucking baby, and it's bitch complaining to me that Matt keeps insisting that we have to go now."

"Well...maybe we should try to—" You got interrupted by a knock on the bathroom door, you all looked at each other confused.

As you open the door, you see a long-haired brunette and a pair of pretty blue eyes.

It was Chris. His eyes seemed puffy and a little red as if he were crying. “Is Nick here?” Anger was plastered on his face.

That’s when Nick stood up and opened the bathroom door, “What the fuck, Chris? Can’t you do a simple task?” causing Chris to scoff “And you clearly can’t read. I texted you back saying that Matt didn’t give a shit about you guys needing more time. He wants to go now.”

“Did you explain to him that y/n is not feeling well right now?” Nick snapped back, crossing his arms.

Chris rubbed his face with both his hands before scanning your entire face. “Isn’t she okay now?”

“Chris! She could barely walk by herself a few minutes ago, why’s is it so hard for you to do a fucking favor and ask our brother to give us some time?!” Nick answered, his voice rising.

“Because I don’t understand why the fuck you guys need more time, y/n look completely fine, and you’re making a huge fucking deal out of it!” Chris’ voice also got a little louder.

“Because it will be a fucking huge deal when she’s throwing up all over the fucking car!” He shouted.

Chris’ jaw clenched.

“Then why don’t you ask Matt, since it’s such a big deal, huh?”

“Fine, I’ll fucking go and instead you and y/n will stay here while Madi and I sort this out since it’s so difficult for you.” Nick left the bathroom, Madi following his pace as Chris moved out of the way so they could get out.

“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to—” Chris shut the door behind him and looked at you, tears forming in his eyes. Your first instinct was to hug him.

He just cried as silently as he could. You guessed that alcohol hits him differently than it does to you. He dragged you closer by wrapping his arms around your waist, and you began to stroke his hair. “Everything’s going to be alright, Chris.”

“No, it’s not, I’m a fucking burden to everybody and,” His sobs getting louder than before. “First, I fought with Paige and now Nick.”

You pulled back to look at his face, pulling his chin up so he could look at you, “You’re not a burden to no one, Chris.” You said, “You’re like the sun, and when the sun comes out, everyone smiles.” You kept talking, caressing his right cheek with your thumb, “Besides, whatever you and Paige fought about was just because she was drunk, it’ll pass.”

He just nodded and then rested his face on the crook of your neck and kept crying a little.

A few minutes had passed, you and Chris were sitting on the bathroom floor, laughing and talking a little.

“You know, If I’m being honest…I kind of envy Paige.” You said while looking up at the ceiling.

“Why?” Chris replied, furrowing his brows slightly

“Because she’s so beautiful and I’m not…” You admitted.

“Well that’s not true, you are really beautiful too.” He looked at you and smiled.

Beautiful, he called you beautiful.

A buzz sound came from Chris’ phone, he picked it up and looked at the screen. “It’s Nick.”

“What he said?”

“Matt accepted to stay a little more.”

“Excellent! This means I can finally get out of this bathroom.” You stood up and fixed your dress a bit, offering a hand to Chris.

He took your hand and stood up, as he was looking at you. His eyes shifted from your eyes to your lips.

And that’s when you noticed how your faces were just inches apart, feeling his breath hitting your face softly. “Chris…”

“Y/n…”

His palms were resting now on your cheeks, your mouths almost touching, “Do you want to kiss me, hm?” He suggested, grazing his lips against yours teasingly, causing you to shiver a little.

Of course, you wanted it, but was it right? Will he regret it? Will you regret it?

Something snapped you back from reality, cold hands running on your lower back down to your ass, gripping it slightly, “I asked you something.” His voice shifted to a demanding tone.

Fuck it.

You crush your lips against his. At first, it was sloppy, both fighting for dominance, he kept his grip on your ass, gripping it harder. Making you gasp.

And that’s when he gets the chance to slide his tongue inside your mouth, taking control of the kiss. Your body pressed against the cold marble sink that was right behind you, his hands now resting on the sides of your hips. Chris picked you up from your thighs and sat you up on the bathroom sink. Lifting your dress to reveal your black laced panties.

His hand snaked down to your inner thigh. His kisses lowered from your mouth to your jaw and then to your neck. His fingers finally got to your heat, your panties soaking wet. “You’re so wet for me.” He whispered, causing you to whimper a bit. He pulled your panties to the side and began to rub in circles your sensitive nub, whimpers coming out of your mouth. Shaking breaths, your hands gripping on the sink, your knuckles getting white.

“You fucking like that, don’t you?” Chris asked through gritted teeth, applying more pressure on your clit. You nodded but that made things worse, “You better use your fucking words, y/n. Or else I’ll stop and leave you all alone.”

“Y-yes, I l-like i-it.” You handled letting out. Chris smirked and kept stroking your clit. You closed your eyes and leaned your head back, your head resting against the mirror wall, feeling the wave of pleasure consuming you. “Fuck…”

But then, the pleasure stopped. You opened your eyes and looked at Chris, he was smirking at you while he sucked his fingers, guiding them back to your throbbing pussy. Slipping them inside you, painfully slow. Your walls clench around his fingers, your legs squeezing with each other, a loud gasp coming out from you. Chris began to pick up his pace, thrusting his fingers in and out of you “Just like that, keep making those pretty noises for me like a good girl.” He groaned, intensifying his speed with each thrust.

He looked down where his fingers were working their way to bring you over the edge, you let pornographic moans out of your mouth, giving Chris what he wants.

Control.

“You look so fucking pathetic right now.” He grabbed your chin with his free hand and forced you to see him, his eyes darkened and full of desire. “Don’t you think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me? You fucking slut.” Chris whispered to you, pumping his fingers mercilessly in and out of you. “You wanted this? You wanted me to finger you?”

You nodded desperately, feeling the well-known knot forming inside of you, you were about to come. “I-I’m so c-close,” you mumbled. “What was that?” He gripped your chin tighter. Your hands grasp tighter on the bathroom sink, your climax getting closer and closer with each thrust. “Don’t stop, fuck.” You spat, squeezing your eyes shut as you felt finally getting to the edge.

“I won't.” He replied, getting closer to leave a few hickeys on your collarbone and the crook of your neck. That's when you felt your release “Fuck!” a loud moan coming out from you, your walls clenching around Chris’ fingers. Your juices flooded all over his fingers. Chris took out his fingers, a popping sound as he did. Your chest goes up and down violently, and your breath is heavy.

He looked at his fingers then at you, “Open your eyes, now.” You open your eyes slowly to get the view of Chris cleaning out his fingers until there isn't a single drop of your juices around his fingers. “You taste so fucking good, ma.”

What the fuck was going on tonight.

You were in the backseat with Nick and Madi, gossiping about tonight's party “It was fun.” Nick admitted.

“Yeah, I think I’m not going to parties anymore,” Matt added.

And there was Chris, glancing at you a few times before they left you at your apartment.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow, alright?” You said to them as you waved at them.

You're finally in a quieter place, where you can think about what just happened tonight with Chris.

It finally happened, you finally got what you wanted with Chris and even more.

But it wasn’t enough, you craved for more.

But then, reality hits.

He was still with Paige, and you were just a distraction to him.

Or that’s what you thought until…

You got a text from someone.

It was Chris.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

a/n: not the best one-shots ever but here you go!!! Lmk if there’s any mistakes!

Tag list: @sturniolossss @tillies33ssss @chrisloyalgf @alorsxsturn

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leewonkyeom · 8 months

Text

light a flame | jeon wonwoo | masterlist

☆ synopsis

when your roommate quits his job at the coffee shop you frequent you never imagined the new guy would be hot or even your type. to make matters worse you both study law at the same university.

your friends to try to convince you to get together with him. you try to convince them you just find him really nice... but are you able to convince yourself?

☆ pairing: jeon wonwoo x fem!reader

☆ genre: smau, university au, coffee shop au

☆ warnings: swearing, drinking, implied 18+ content

☆ status: ongoing, updates every thursday and sunday

☆ started: 07.09.23

☆ ended: 21.03.24

main masterlist

☆ fill out this form to be added to the taglist

profiles: 1 | 2

chapters:

001: stop thirsting on main

002: i’m not a fucking rat

003: please yn it was for the vine

004: not asking for a friend, i’m asking for me

005: you’re forced to come even if minghao drops of the face of the earth

006: HE’S TALL AND HE GOT A NICE ANGLE SHUT UP

007: you can’t recognize drip even if it’s staring right in your face

008: are you trying to limit my artistic expression?

009: step aside! if anyone’s playing wingman it’s me

010: like slaying monsters?

011: “me as a baby”

012: you obviously know the worth of cancelling

013: is that seungcheol photoshopped as aang from avatar?

014: playing league of legends does not qualify as “having a life”

015: he made me stand outside the coffee shop with a “free hugs” sign

016: good luck, daredevil

017: well, i honestly think you’re both in the wrong

018: then i say spider-man is within the realms of possibility

019: i just wanted the public opinion

020: digital footprint

021: i have faith in the tiger

022: last selfie before we die and i didn’t even look good

023: vernon’s sock drawer isn’t a good hiding place

024: i’m thinking of hanging it in our shared bathroom so seungkwan can be reminded of his good deed

025: oh don’t bring judy into this!

026: staging a storm just so someone can experience the forced proximity trope

027: entering private property in 3... 2... 1

028: i’m not helping a traitor

029: all of my midnight entertainment... gone in seconds

030: yes i will be sharing... / the juices?!

031: uh oh / the ominous period

032: i will go just to prove i’m right

033: oh my god... that woman

034: it means you’re annoying /next

035: i know i’m giving zero context here, but bear with me

036: that guy only has feelings for his right arm

037: how can i dump someone i never even dated?

038: joshua says you can come if you take 10 penalty shots and do a strip tease

039: i can never look any of them in the eyes again... well, except johnny

040: ohh so he’s your super smart study buddy?

041: i didn’t know we had chan’s biggest fan right here

042:i didn’t know you were sending all that, chan. sorry.

043: just a peck

044: as real as spider-man

045: so arguably, it wasn’t even my fault

046: shut up and make out with wonwoo instead

047: special deal only for my boyfriend

048: i’m literally throwing rocks at your window as we speak

049: i’m just training you to be wonwoo’s little pet

050: i’m not having a dog ruin the ambiance

051: epilogue

bonus chapter

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argentisbeloved · 3 months

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Diluc, Dainsleif & Dan Heng as vampires

pairings: diluc, dainsleif & dan heng x gender neutral reader

cws: biting and blood drinking, some swearing, them burning in the sunlight, slight suggestiveness in dain’s part (not rlly it’s barely even one moan)

tags: them as vampires, hurt/comfort, modern au (dan heng), kissing, dan heng’s part is dialogue heavy

notes: diluc’s part is also inspired by an art the lovely @/mmmairon as well as a drabble by @/hiraya_rawr. also also i wanna say that dan heng has more of a modern au type of thing going for him, so just keep that in mind!

word count: 3911

DILUC RAGNVINDR: (1340 words)

•Diluc was turned during a near death experience in Snezhnaya. A passing vampire spotted his body bleeding out on the ground and decided the only way to save him was by turning him.

•Though, Diluc would've rather died on that night.

•After he was turned, and he experienced his first craving for blood, he went on a rampage that he'd quickly come to regret afterwards.

•Out of guilt of realising what he's done, he exiled himself into solitude. Opting to not go back home ever again in case he'd hurt someone in Mondstadt if he did go back. He resided in an abandoned manor that he'd fixed up over a century or two.

•Instead of drinking human blood, he drank animal blood instead. Though he'd never drink enough from them to fatally wound the animal.

•Meaning for a very long time, he'd been suppressing his cravings for human blood.

•And when you came into the picture, it wasn't pretty for him.

•You'd knocked on his door one late night seeking for shelter from a storm that was starting to form. While the logical side of his brain screamed at him to not let you stay, he inevitably let you inside for the night.

•He brewed you a cup of tea, and let you stay in one of the spare rooms. By morning, and after you left, he expected that to be the last time he'd ever see a human for another century or so.

•He was proved wrong when you showed up at his doorstep again late into the afternoon with some food to thank him for letting you stay the night.

•After this, you ended up visiting him more and more. You quickly noticed how he wouldn't answer a lot during the day, but you just assumed he was busy working (in reality, he refused to open the door to not get burned by the sunlight).

•Because of your frequent visits, you ended up befriending Diluc.

•And before he knew it, Diluc was falling completely head over heels for you, to his dismay.

•The thought of loving you terrified him greatly. He was a vampire and you were a human for goodness' sake! It could never work between you two! The thought of losing himself because of you, your scent, and your blood made him so scared. He didn't want to harm you, or worse, he didn't want to accidentally lose control and kill you.

•So, in hopes to drive you away; he decides to reveal himself to you. To reveal the monster he is to you.

A letter from Diluc had you walking to his manor in the middle of a warm spring day, something you wouldn't usually do. You figured that he had a day off from work today and that he wanted to spend it with you. The last part of that thought making your heart throb in your chest.

You soon approached the door to his manor, knocking gently on the door three times. It didn't take long before the dark oak doors opened to let you inside. You entered casually as Diluc held open the door for you, closing and locking it once you had fully entered his estate.

He led you over to the sitting room, placing a pre-made cup of tea in front of you, to which you quickly accepted and drank out of. The two of you conversed together for a little while, with everything being light hearted and fine, as it usually was.

That was until Diluc suddenly questioned you;

"How do you feel about me?"

His question caught you by surprise, your eyes widening and a small blush starting to coat your cheeks. You laugh awkwardly, trying to calm yourself down from how his question startled you.

You open your mouth, planning to say "You're a good friend of mine!" And while that isn't a lie, a friend isn't something only you want to be to him, you want to be something more.

"Please, tell me the truth."

His words catch you off guard for the second time in such a small period. You choke down your words and take a deep breath, before reluctantly saying your true feelings to him.

"I... I'm in love with you, Diluc."

In that moment, the light hearted air in the room had quickly dissipated. With the way Diluc's eyes widened with what looked like disbelief, shock and also fear?

"N-No... no... you can't love me, you shouldn't love me...!"

He says, his voice breaking midway through his declaration.

"Why not?"

You respond. You're nothing but confused right now, you've never seen him like this before. Diluc was a calm and rational man to you, so you'd never seen him like this before.

"Because!”

He shouts, standing up from the couch forcefully. He turns away from you, walking towards the tightly covered window.

"I'm nothing but a monster! You should love someone better than me!"

"Diluc, why are you talking about..!?"

Almost as if to answer your question, he pulls the curtains apart, the tight bindings on them tearing from his abnormal strength. The sun pours into the already dimly lit room.

Diluc winces, resisting the urge to cover his face. He groans in pain and turns around to face you.

Your heart drops at the sight of him. The way his pale skin now glows and crackles from the sunlight, burning his skin.

"He's burning, he's in pain!"

You quickly leap from your seat, pulling the blanket that was draped onto the couch with you. You throw the blanket over his head, shielding him from the sun's piercing light.

Diluc's eyes widen with shock as you pull him away from the window and pull the curtains back to block the sunlight.

You look afraid and worried, as you frantically pace around the room looking for something that's unknown to him. After a few minutes of you tearing through his cabinets, you finally find what you're looking for

A roll of bandages.

You desperately cover the skin that's been burnt with the bandages. Diluc takes note of how heavy you're breathing, how you're almost hyperventilating.

Once you've covered the burns on his face, you search the other uncovered parts of his body for any more injuries. And Diluc finally hears your voice breaking the uncomfortable silence that had formed.

"Why the fuck would you do that...!?"

You try to sound angry, but your voice immediately shakes and falters, turning your tone of voice into a more desperate one.

Diluc begins to feel guilty, hearing the pain in your voice hurts him more than those burns did.

You raise your head to look at him in the eyes, opening your mouth to spit more words at him.

"Why would you hurt yourself like this...!?!?"

You choke on those words, tears beginning to fall down your cheeks at a rapid pace. The sight of you so distraught makes Diluc's barely beating heart ache immensely.

"I..."

Diluc struggles to get what he wants to say out.

"I didn't want to love you, in case I'd hurt you..."

He looks away from you, too ashamed to keep eye contact.

"Do you not see how much this hurts me though!?"

You reply, gritting your teeth.

"I don't care that you're not a human like me! I still love you, and nothing is going to change that!!"

More tears fall down your cheeks, some even hitting and sliding down his own face.

Diluc hesitantly reaches a hand up, pressing his gloved hand against the back of your head and pushing it forward so that your forehead rests against his.

"I'm sorry."

He apologises, being finally able to look you in the eyes again. He's sincere in his words.

You sniffle, closing your eyes and placing your hands on his shoulders. You don't respond to his apology, but he can tell that you've already forgiven him.

Diluc smiles and closes his eyes too, not deciding to start any more conversations, and leaving the two of you to calm in silence.

DAINSLEIF: (1424 words)

•When Khaenri'ah fell, Dainsleif was cursed with both immortality and vampirism. The immortality came with becoming a vampire.

•So he decided to travel Teyvat alone, so as to not let anyone know about his inhumanity.

•At first, Dainsleif struggled with being a vampire. He could only be on the move when the sun was down, but it wasn't like he could get very far with how sluggish he was from repressing his blood cravings.

•Eventually, he managed to figure things out. Every once in a while he'd feed on some poor drunkard walking home in the middle of the night. And he managed to construct a ring that made him immune to the sunlight, meaning he could now travel by day as well.

•The 500 years he's spent travelling alone were incredibly lonely for him. Because he didn't want anyone to know that he was a vampire, he isolated himself from civilisation, only occasionally stepping into the cities to get a drink at a tavern or to buy something he needed.

•He lived completely alone for five centuries, until you came along.

•Dainsleif had spotted you, another traveller, trying your best to fight some slimes that had been attacking you, but you weren't really doing a good job. So, he stepped in to help you out. He planned to just slay the slimes, make sure you were okay, and be on his merry way once again.

•But you had completely ruined his plans, chasing after him as he tried to walk away from you, saying that you'd pay him back with a meal at a nearby restaurant or a drink from one of the taverns he'd been to a few times.

•No matter how many times he'd try to let you down gently, you just kept going, insisting that because he saved your life that you should repay him.

•Once Dainsleif finally came to terms with the fact that you weren't going to let up, he sighed and agreed to your offer (demand)

•So you took him to a tavern for a meal and a few drinks. By the end of it, you were completely drunk and he was still completely sober.

•Regular human food and alcohol don't do much to his system. It wasn't like his body rejected them, but he would never become drunk even if he drank a sea of booze, and he would never become full off of just meats and vegetables.

•Much to Dainsleif's annoyance, he ended up carrying you back to his campsite to let you sleep there. He made sure to keep watch the entire night just in case.

•When you woke up, the first thing you saw through a bleary gaze was a pint of water being held out to you by Dainsleif. He scolded you for drinking too much last night and forced you to drink the water to lessen your hangover.

•And since then, you've somehow become a pest in his side. You both travelled around Teyvat together, soothing Dainsleif's centuries-long loneliness.

•Though, having a human companion by his side wasn't easy for Dainsleif. Especially if he was due for another feeding.

The crackling fire illuminated the campsite that had been darkened by the evening sky. The entrancing flames distracted you as Dainsleif tried his best to calm himself down in your shared tent.

He was due for another feeding, and the smell of your blood was driving him crazy. He was trying his best to hold back on his desperate cravings until you slept, so he could drink from another bumbling drunkard roaming the paths.

But it was getting increasingly harder and harder to hold himself back as the minutes passed by.

Dainsleif refused to drink from you. He didn't want to harm or scare you away. Overtime, he'd come to actually enjoy your company. Driving you away with his monstrous tendencies is the last thing he wants, especially after being alone for far too long.

"Dainsleif?"

Your voice breaks him out of his thoughts, and he looks up to see you, placing a hand on his shoulder. He hadn't even realised you'd moved away from the fire to come to his side.

"Are you alright? You look awfully pale..."

Awfully pale was just how he always looked, though he was probably as white as a ghost by now from how badly he needed to feed.

"I-It's nothing..."

Dainsleif utters with a surprisingly weak voice. He averts his eyes away from you, feeling embarrassed that you have to see him so weak.

"Are you sure? I think you may be ill..."

You respond, holding his chin to keep his head in place while you studied his features for any signs of illness.

Dainsleif's breath became ragged at how close you were to him. He was using all of his self control to not just pounce on you and drink straight from your neck.

In your eyes, you had just thought that he was refusing help because he didn't want to seem weak around you. Though the issue was much bigger than that.

"P-Please, I'm fine..."

He breathes out. He does not look fine in the slightest.

You furrow your eyebrows at him, starting to become annoyed at how he's pushing you away.

"You don't have to pretend, Dain. I can tell something's wrong, you can tell me y’know."

Dainsleif swallows. He wants to resist, to run away and return to you while you're asleep and he's finally been fed. But he cannot.

"H-How much do you know about... inhuman creatures...?"

He finally asks with his voice and breath shaking.

"Hmm... like slimes? Have you been poisoned by one or something?—"

"No, no, it's nothing like that..." He cuts you off, taking a deep breath before speaking again. "I-I meant creatures who appear to be human... but they aren't..."

You think for a few moments, thinking back to all the books you read before you decided to set off on your journey across all of Teyvat. After a few minutes of thinking, you manage to come to a conclusion.

"Like a vampire or something?"

"Yes... a vampire..."

"What about them?"

Dainsleif doesn't even find the energy to tell you. He simply just opens his mouth a little to show off his sharp fangs in his teeth that replaced his canines.

Your eyes widen. You're surprised, and even a little bit scared, but you know Dainsleif won't hurt you.

Not hurting you is what got him to this state in the first place, isn't it?

"Are you hungry?"

You ask him, and he weakly nods in response.

You take a deep breath before undoing the top button on your shirt, pulling your collar down enough to fully expose your neck. You hold his chin against and force him to look up at you.

"Drink from me." You say, and Dainsleif's eyes widen.

"B-But—"

"I don't want to hear it. I know you won't hurt me, so just drink already.”

A bit of anxiety goes through your mind, wanting to back out. But you'd rather be in pain than have your closest companion die of starvation when you could've prevented it.

Dainsleif hesitantly pulls you close to him, pressing his mouth against the side of your neck. He places small kisses on the warm skin, whispering out a bunch of "Thank you's" as he prepares himself to drink from you for the first time.

Right before he drinks from you, he whispers a small "I'm sorry," before taking a bite.

At first, it hurts. Your nails dig into Dainsleif's shoulders as he feeds from you. His thumbs draw comforting circles on your back to try and soothe you.

When the pain finally subsides, it actually starts to feel a little good. You let out a mix between a sigh and a moan as your nails stop digging into his shoulders and instead grip at his shirt.

Once he finishes drinking from you, he licks and kisses the spot he bit into, lapping up any blood that's spilled out from your neck.

The experience left you completely exhausted. You rested your head on Dainsleif's shoulder as he grabbed the first aid kit from your bag, pulling out a small bandaid to put over the bite.

When he's done patching you up, he lays you down gently onto your mat, pulling up the small blanket you had. His gloved hand brushes the hair sticking to your forehead away, and he plants his lips there in a gentle kiss.

"Sleep well..."

He whispers, before your vision fades to black.

DAN HENG: (1137 words)

•Unlike the other two, Dan Heng was actually born as a vampire. Though he's never met his parents before.

•Vampires like him age super slowly. So he's got another few centuries on his belt until he becomes weak enough to die or be killed easily.

•Instead of hiding himself away though, he works as a librarian in a public library.

•While he's very quiet and hard to communicate with, he is actually a very good worker (he plans to go down with the library if that ever happens)

•Nobody actually knows he's a vampire, not even his boss or his coworkers. While his previous bosses had noticed that he barely seemed to age as the years went by, they always felt too intimidated by his quiet and stoic nature to ask him about it.

•Dan Heng, like Dainsleif, also has a daylight ring. Though this is just something he's had with him for as long as he can remember.

•You show up for the first time in his life when you're hired to work in the library with him.

•Unfortunately for him, you just happened to want to strike up a conversation every time you saw him. His boss must've noticed this, because suddenly, majority of your shifts aligned right with his.

•Dan Heng is a bit annoyed that his nice peace and quiet is now being interrupted by you. But he's not a bad guy, so he's not going to get mad at you and push you away or make you feel horrible because of it.

•So, after a bit of trying to get him to talk to you, he caves and replies to you.

•And that started your friendship with him.

•You two remained as good friends for a while. It was until Dan Heng realised that he had started to fall for you that he started to push you away without even realising it.

•He felt bad for falling for you. He felt bad that he'd live on for centuries, while you only had a few decades. It made him feel guilty thinking of how you'd grow old and he'd technically not even be 30 yet.

•So, he started slipping informative books about vampires into your piles of books that you were going to borrow. He didn't know how to tell you outright the truth, so he hoped that this would get his message across.

•It did not.

Dan Heng notices you sigh while you're looking through your stack of books that you had left to the side unattended for only a few minutes. He watches you walk over to him and place the book he had slipped into your pile in front of him on the desk.

"Can you put this back in its original spot?" You sigh again, tapping on the hardcover with your nails.

Dan Heng picks up the book. "Are you not a fan of vampire books?" He asks bluntly, slightly raising an eyebrow.

"It's not that." You reply "They just keep showing up with the books I want to borrow even though. I don't put them there... do you think we're being haunted by a vampire or something?"

Dan Heng shakes his head. "Don't be absurd. Ghosts are the ones that haunt, not vampires."

"Oh? Sounds like you know a lot about vampires. Perhaps you're the one slipping these into my pile behind my back?"

You notice the way Dan Heng's eyes practically pop out of his head with how surprised he looks. It was an odd expression for him.

"Hey, you don't have to look so surprised, I was joking—"

"You're right."

Now you're the one who's surprised, though not to the same extent as he was just merely a few seconds ago.

Dan Heng sighs. "Can we go somewhere private? I have something to tell you."

You nod your head and follow him. The both of you are silent as you walk to a secluded spot in a corner of the library. When you both stop walking, Dan Heng turns to face you with a guilty expression on his face.

"I have two things to tell you..."

He begins, taking a deep breath before looking straight into your curious eyes.

"I have... fallen for you."

A cute red blush appears on his cheeks, and with the way yours had started to burn, you probably looked the exact same as him.

"But... I cannot be with you."

That immediately makes you confused. Your heart starts to pound harder.

"Wh-What do you mean?"

You stutter, your voice raising in a pitch a little too high when you emphasise your question.

Dan Heng sighs again, rubbing his shoulder awkwardly.

"The reason I've been slipping books about vampires into your pile is... well... because I am a vampire."

You cannot tell if you're being played right now.

"...Are you serious?"

"Yes."

With the way Dan Heng continues to look straight into your eyes without faltering makes you believe him more. But you have no reason to not believe him anyway, after all, Dan Heng was a serious person, so what would he get out of lying to you like this?

"So... how does that play into you loving me?"

Dan Heng bites his lip, fiddling with the ring he always wore to calm his anxieties down.

"I'm practically immortal. If we ever end up together in the future, you'll die way before I even reach the age you died at..."

It seems his anxieties only worsened as he explained the reason to you. That thought hadn't crossed your mind, but you understand why he looked so guilty and distressed over it.

You exhale, taking a step closer to him and placing a hand on his shoulder. He looks at you, wondering what you're planning to do.

"I'm sure we can work something out when that inevitably comes around. For now, why don't we just enjoy ourselves without worrying about the future?"

You smile warmly, brushing your thumb over his bottom lip.

Dan Heng doesn't respond for a second, but he finally nods to your statement.

"Alright, let's do that."

He grabs the wrist of your hand that's touching his face, moving it away and intertwining his fingers with you, giving you a small reassuring squeeze.

Dan Heng looks at you and smiles for the first time during your whole conversation. Your heart flutters at the sight of it, and you can't help but lean in and kiss it.

Dan Heng's eyes widen again when you pull away, and you immediately regret doing that.

"I-I'm sorry! I should've asked for permission first!"

"N-No... it's fine."

Dan Heng touches his lips, the blush on his face growing.

"...Can I kiss you again then?"

You ask shyly, playing with his fingers in your linked hands.

"Yes, you may."

And that's exactly what you do.

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sunshine-and-moonshine · 1 year

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COD monster men

Requested: Yes. By me. I requested this cause I wanted it.

Warnings: spice, angst, blood, some fluff, Alejandro watches you sleep

A/N:

Ghost - Vampire

For Ghost, it’s all too easy to forget what he is until he’s in the heat of battle, blood on his clothes, stroking that ever present hunger that burns inside of him every second of every day. He’s afraid to be around anyone right than, his hands shaking as he licks the blood off of his gloves in whatever dark corner he can find, far away from prying eyes. He’s so so hungry, so desperate for it that he accidentally bites through his gloves, drawing blood from his own skin. It’s never good, makes his belly twist and turn til he vomits it all back up. Sometimes he’s so desperate, so hungry, that he bites himself on purpose, puking be damned. That’s nothing compared to the pain of a stomach so empty that he feels like he’s going to die, a feeling he’s felt all too much in his life, even when he was human.

And then he sees you, waddling around in army gear, approaching him cautiously, a medkit in your hands. You tell him how you’re a medic, how you need to evaluate him for injuries.

He tries so hard to get you to just buzz off but you insist on staying, so he reluctantly lets you sterilize his fingers despite knowing that they’d just be healed within the hour. But there was something soothing about the satisfied look on your face when you were done, his fingers taped up oh so carefully. He looks at them for a moment, trying to remember the last time anyone had showed him such concern and gentleness. Probably…..yes, it was probably Tommy and His Mother, from so many years ago. The 1950’s, he believes.

He looks at you, not noticing as you get fidgety the longer he stares. He…..he likes it. Your care, your worry, your gentleness. It overpowers the hunger that begs him to rip your throat out, to bathe himself in the blood that would gush from you. To drink himself so full of you that maybe he could have those things, be those things. Maybe it would soften up his insides and he could really feel things for once.

Please, make him feel something.

Soap - Selkie

The first time Soap lets you touch his seal skin, he almost has a panic attack. Years of generational trauma, of the fear of a human touching and stealing their skin, of stealing them away from friends and family, raping and abusing them. Everything in him is yelling to yank his skin back from you, to hide it far far away from your eyes. But he doesn’t. He knows you wouldn’t do that. Sweet sweet you who is so gently petting at the snout of his skin, a look of wonder on your face.

And despite the panic that he’s fighting, he decides that he likes the sight of his skin wrapped around you, almost like you’re a selkie yourself. He knows he can trust his skin around you, because you would never hurt him. Never hide it from him or tether him to the land when he wants to be in the sea. Knows you won’t commit the atrocities that many people before you have commited.

He likes the sight of you holding his skin, entrusting all of himself with you.

And, as you pull out the small black box that he hid in the folds of his fur, he hopes that you’ll entrust him with all of you as well.

König - Werewolf

König couldn’t remember most of what his first change was like, only the pain. Blinding mind numbing pain as bones broke and healed, taking on new shapes, stretching his skin and growing hair, more hair than a Sasquatch. His Oma had to explain it to him when he woke up like that one morning, mid way into his transformation, screaming and crying, praying for death because surely that would be better than this pain. His Oma shushes him, cradles him even when he begged her to go away, her warm hands on his oversensitive skin only making everything worse, driving him even further into overstimulation.

And it was the same with you now, crying as you held him through his transformation, pawing at you, trying so hard not to let his claws sink into you and rip you to shreds just to distract himself from the pain. You were so sweet to him, cooing in his ears, rubbing your hands over his fur, trying to help him. And when he looked at you in the finishing stage of his change, you looked like an Angel sent from heaven. Something otherworldly, beautiful and strong, having pity on the animal he is.

And he knew he never wanted to let you go. Never ever again. His angel.

Alejandro - Incubus

Alejandro sighs as he crouches over your pliant body, gently caressing your cheeks with big rough hands. He had waited so long to get you like this, peacefully sleeping away as he invaded your mind, showing you the most deliciously sinful images of the two of you together. Twisting and whining and crying beneath him, or even above him in a few cases. And oh, the sexual energy that started floating off of you was the best he’d ever had, only growing sweeter the longer he tormented your sleeping brain. It was such a tease, not just to you either. He had to watch you crying out under him, wanting to touch you so badly that it hurt. But he wanted your permission. Wanted you to willingly let him in so he could wreck you for anyone else. Destroy you so beautifully that you could never be put back together the way you used to be.

And when your beautiful eyes opened up, looking at him so cutely in your sleepy pleasure drunk haze, he knew that he too would never be able to go back. That you’d ruined him for anyone else, made him addicted to you and you alone. Nobody else would ever compare.

All he wants now is you. So please, let him have you.

#cod #call of duty #mwii #mw2 #simon ghost riley #Simon ghost riley x reader #Simon riley #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #john mactavish #john mactavish x reader #König #König x reader #Alejandro Vargas #Alejandro vargas x reader #Cod monster au

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luvlyhyunjin · 1 month

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Carousel┃H.HJ SMAU

Forty-Six - Out Of Time.

warnings; angst get your tissues

wc.5k

playlist; i love you - billie eilish

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

You knew that Hyunjin was more on the possessive side, a little more jealous than what were you used to. You were used to being on the more intimidating side in most of your fleeting relationships. Not giving enough space for your partner to express their discomfort about your overwhelming charm, capturing the attention of passersby. A persona you thought you enjoyed wearing is stripped of you whenever you’re around him. A delicate softness embraces you instead the same one that embraces him as well. You bring out a certain clement in him that he wasn’t aware of, the same one that has him dotting on you, attending to you and your every little detail. Like bringing you a glass of water and placing it on your bedside table just in case you wake up thirsty in the middle of the night.

It brings you back to the time when you were teenagers. The air reeks of innocent youth, smells like the beach and as warm as the summer's sun. it's as refreshing as it used to be. It lingers between you two, in the way his feet nudge your leg under the table playfully. It’s in the way he gazes at you lovingly from across the table, watches you munch slowly on the sandwich he had begged to pay for. It’s in the way he had dragged you out of your apartment promising not to touch you just in case someone was watching, noticing the dreading anxiety that had latched itself onto you like a parasite.

It has been pulling at you for days now but got particularly worse today, you felt like it was the silence of your phone, the lack of notifications from Yeosang is unsettling. Despite Wooyoung telling you that he got it, that his lawyer is working on making a contract to ensure Yeosang’s silence.

It’s gonna be over soon. He had assured you with a glowing smile, confident in the process you were heading towards. it should have had hope blooming in your heart, excitement running through your veins in waiting for what's about to come. But it didn't feel like that at all. Despite the positive that had swam in the air everything feels if it’s a nightmare you’re unable to wake up from, like a monster that chases you down an endless narrow hallway, it had transformed itself into a painful anxiety attack in the early morning. With a pacing heart and heavy breaths, silent tears had streamed down your face causing concern to etch on Hyunjin’s face as he tried to comfort you, whispering to you that everything is okay. He’s got you.

Yet you constantly felt like you were standing on the edge, swaying back and forth in fear of falling.

It's the same concern that colors his face now when you take a sip from your supposedly fresh juice “what’s wrong? You don’t like it?” he questions once you set the plastic cup back on the table with a grimace adoring your face.

“Tastes weird.” You mumble with disgust, shaking your head as if it would wash the aftertaste out of your mouth. He reaches for your drink without question, takes a sip for his own with knitted eyebrows “baby there’s pineapple in this, you don’t like pineapples, no?” you blink at him, had not expected him to remember such a minuscule detail about you. It’s something that you, yourself had managed to forget about sometimes due to the rare occurrence of having it. A warm feeling scurries into your chest, cradling the agony that is your anxiety just enough to block out the overwhelming noises.

“Here,” he takes his own untouched juice and places it in front of you “drink mine instead.” Perhaps you were feeling increasingly more sensitive as the hours passed by or perhaps it was his gentleness that seemed to make your insides buzz with love. So much love it had tears brimming in your eyes incredulously fast.

“Thank you Hyunjin,” you cried, sniffling into the sleeve of his sweater that you stole, his scent overtakes you even when he looks at you confused and lips quirking upwards in a hesitant smile. He couldn’t believe you were crying over a cup of juice. God you were such an idiot sometimes.

But you were his idiot.

Later in the evening after lying on your couch for hours, you’re feeling a little better, a little more lightweight which is why when Hyunjin had convinced you to make French toast for dinner after putting Haneul to bed, you agreed willingly, despite the faux annoyance you wore when he glued himself to you the whole time you were moving around the kitchen you were happy, more than happy when he had hugged you from behind, spreading his affection through littering kisses on the back of your neck.

“Aren’t you supposed to help me?” you asked as you were cutting strawberries to add to your dessert. The soft pitter-patter of the rain on your windows alongside the beating of his heart against your back has you swaying in comfort “I’m giving you emotional support.” He mummers against your neck, bringing you closer to him when you try to lean away from his tickling breath.

You feel yourself glowing, as if you’re in dreamland and you’re floating above the clouds surrounded by nothing but fairy dust, forms of affection you didn’t even know could coexist with you but they do. They exist within you and overflow from you when you’re sharing bites of French toast with Hyunjin in your living room, a carefree smile as he adds more and more pieces of sweet and syrupy bread onto your plate. Your heart is enveloped in ardor at his kindness. It has your heart aching in a different way, not used to the care he naturally douses you with.

“How are you so pretty even when you’re eating?” his thoughts display themselves into his words, raw and unfiltered. You push at his chest with giggle and blushing cheeks and his eyes follow you, like they always have. He lingers at the sight of you, taken away by the domestic setting you found yourselves in. you set his soul ablaze, a warmth in his chest that only your love could provide for him.

“I think i must have saved a goddess in my past life to be able to witness you in every angle like this every day.” he admits fondly, swaying into whatever point of view that will show you just how much his partiality for you overflows. His fingers wipe at the syrup on corner of your mouth, and you chase his thumb with a kiss. He smiles at you, and you find love in the curves of it, in the dip of his dimples and you pray to the universe to give your happiness just a bit more time to flourish. Just a little while longer will surely be enough.

The ringing of his phone cuts through your unsaid words and through the quietness of your mind that just had managed to settle. Buzzing on the counter it steals Hyunjin’s attention from you and his warmth slowly leaves you alongside his hands as he goes to pick it up. As soon as he answers you know something is wrong, it’s in the way he purses his lips, and the way his brows knit together in a scowl. Suddenly the anxiety you have been running away from all day is here again.

The atmosphere around you turned colder, your living room suddenly enveloped with a dropping temperature despite the warmth you felt mere minutes ago. It was as if it was warning you for what’s about to come, telling you to get accustomed to this feeling as it settles in your vitality.

“Is everything okay?” you ask tentatively, a growing anxiety flumped in the bit of your stomach when Hyunjin’s frowns deepens. Hanging up the phone as he faces you with a bewildered expression.

“Yeji is outside.”

“What? Why?” You watch as Hyunjin moves franticly to dress, putting one of his abandoned jackets on the couch. You had told him to pick them up this morning and he promised to do it with a hushed kiss. A couple of hundred questions linger in your mind, swirling around only to flourish your anxiety into a bigger shadow that looms over your couch and above your curled up figure.

The scent of Hyunjin is in the sweater you’re drowning in yet you're still so cold.

How did she even get your address? What was so important she had to come here right this moment?

“I’m not sure but I’ll check.” He turns to head for the door, a panic mixed with confusion is evident in the way he brushes his hand through his hair, you don’t know why you feel a familiar panic rises in your body cosplaying itself into an overwhelming neediness. It has you on your feet in seconds, knuckles white as they tightly gripped onto his shirt. Halting his movements.

“Are you okay, angel?” He looks back with a concerned expression and somehow it only deepens your anxiety, has its thorns grow and grow until they’re curling around your vocal cords not allowing you to speak. You don’t know where to go and what to do with this sudden uneasiness.

Don’t go. Two words hang at the tip of your tongue not completely swallowed down but not making their way out. They sit heavily.

His warm palms cradle your face in unyielding gentleness, has a shiver running down your spine when his lips graze your forehead in a sweet a brush of his lips “I’ll be right back, okay baby?” his attempts to bring you a sense of comfort are inefficacious nonetheless you try to find solace in them. Nodding with a hesitant smile.

He kisses your cheek and heads for the door again, and you linger close by the doorframe. You’re both surprised to see Yeji already standing there when he opens the door. Her eyes are immediately on you, as if she has been looking for you all along. it’s clear that she has been crying, eyes red and nose a matching shade. The droplets of rain wetting her clothes is a giveaway to how she probably came here in a rush, perhaps in rushed heartbreak.

“Jesus fuck what happened to you Yeji?” Hyunjin asks in clear worry as his eyes flit through her disheveled figure.

“We need to talk.” She replies in a monotone, keeping her eyes on you and the coldness in her gaze finally puts a name to your growing fear. Your fingers curls around Hyunjin’s wrist, using his warmth as a curtain over the overwhelming sense of fright that your stomach was unable to digest “c-can we please talk first?” you had mumbled with an obvious shakiness to your voice, frail and on the edge of broken when he looked down at you with loving disquiet.

How did she know? What had happened in these few hours that you were unaware of? Had Yeosang ratted you out? But why?

You should have known that something disastrous lurked on the horizon. You should have known that the shadows of dread that loitered around you all day were warning signs, red sirens calling for your attention. Was it for you to run or for you to prepare for an inevitably coming battle?

“Are you scared Y/N?” Yeji mocks with a dry chuckle not giving room for Hyunjin’s input. His confusion only seems to grow. A weird, unnerving emotion settled into his stomach already sensing the unknown prodding its claws at his heart, not yet sinking them in.

Your heart swells in your chest, an uncomfortable weight pressing against your ribs. You shake your head.

“Please let me talk to him first.” You whispered, you tried to breathe in deeply, attempting to calm your heaving chest down as with each passing second you felt your lungs constricting further. Your feet start sinking into the ground beneath you and you wish you could be swallowed when Hyunjin keeps staring between the two of you.

“Are you scared he’s gonna find out the truth?” You start shaking your head frantically, your fingers digging into Hyunjin’s wrist, leaving behind red marks of your own culpability.

How do you dare to punish him for your own mistakes?

“Please Yeji just let me talk to him first, let me explain this to him.” You begged, the guilt you thought you got used to started to eat you up, tainting your brain and choking you on your own unshed tears. You hold them back, ashamed to let them fall as if you were a victim, as if you weren’t spreading your agony in his wrist, as if your mistakes didn’t stare back at you in Yeji’s eyes.

“Baby what’s going on?” Hyunjin asks in growing panic that he tries to control, seeming to have grasped the seriousness of the situation, he attempts to pull you into him to bring you warmth like he usually does but you can’t move. As if your body suddenly weighed piles of iron.

“What are you exactly going to explain to him?” Her voice is void of emotions; eyes empty. It’s a state of agony you’re so familiar with. Having been dressed in it so many times, it’s the type of anguish that its only injuries ever stem from within. This time, however, you’re the perpetrator leaving behind several unimpeachable sufferers.

“Please Yeji it’s not what you think. I can explain everything just let me talk to him.” The pain in your heart intensifies with every pitiful plea that escapes your mouth, the longer that Hyunjin stares at you in worry and confusion the more you ache. As though pain has latched itself into every fiber of your soul.

“Are you gonna explain how you and Yeosang made my life a game for your enjoyment?” It’s overwhelming, unrelenting now that the comforting veil of your lie has lifted. your head lowered in shame of the sight of your tears descending your cheeks as if you’re worthy of even crying.

“What? What the fuck are you saying Yeji?” Hyunjin had moved in front of you, his body portraying a shield protecting you from Yeji’s recrimination. a cloud of doom hovered above your head, the large clock that had been following you along all this time had finally ticked to zero. Announcing the beginning of the end. Your hand had flattered, loosening its grip on Hyunjin’s wrist leaving behind a glaringly red ring of your guilt.

“Are you gonna explain how you and Yeosang made a bet on breaking my heart?” Your heart began to thunder against your ribs, each thump begging you to run but there was no space for you to return to “or are you gonna explain how everything is a lie? How both of you are incapable of feeling anything real?” her venom laced words echoed throughout your eardrums, each word drifting off from one ear to the other as your vision was stuck on the ground unable, undaring to look up.

Yeji’s numbness starts to fade the more she speaks, her once sparkling eyes are now sad with welling tears as she pushes through Hyunjin and to you, her hands painfully grip your shoulder as if she could break you – you wish she would “Are you gonna explain how you’re a fucking horrible person for doing what you did to me? What did I ever do to you? I don’t even fucking know you.” Her voice quivers, rising in volume and amplifying in pain. Her body shakes along with her lips. chest heaving, eyes rimmed red are only another evidence of your wrongdoings.

You could only shake your head back as your tears double over, your heart constricting in your chest.

Hyunjin is there again, in your pain and in your presence when he pulls Yeji away from you “what the fuck are you doing? What are you talking about?” he exclaims desperate to be let in whatever war that is threatening to take you both down, his arms around her shoulders and she breaks down with full blown out tears streaming down her face “what did I ever do to you?” A rush of nausea overwhelms your being, a yearning to expel every emotion that exists in you “what is she talking about Y/N?” Hyunjin finally asks, looks at you with his eyebrows furrowed, and a sense of betrayal is starting to seep its way into his eyes, into the shakiness of his own voice.

Outside, it starts to thunder, and you feel like as if it hits you directly, coursing its way through your body and climbs its way to your throat, rendering you mute. how could you even say anything back when your hands are covered with red and it’s her blood? Your tongue is paralyzed and you’re choking on all the greying clouds surrounding you. They’re inflating in your throat.

“Hyunjin i-“

“Don’t you dare lie to him,” Yeji lifts her head, glaring at you through her tears of misery “tell him about all the secrets you were trying so hard to bury,” she spits, furiously pointing at you “tell him about how you and Yeosang made a bet to see if he could break my heart, tell him how you said you’ll be his if he did. Tell him Y/N. tell him that you were behind everything all along.”

“Is what she’s saying true?” The pain on Hyunjin’s face is something you had prepared yourself for all this time, you have thought about every possible reaction he could make. You even went as far as to think his rage would be unmatchable, so strong and shadowlike he’d have to kill you, to get rid of you completely. However, now that you have forcibly been dragged from dreamland into reality you deem yourself unready. His expression is so painfully poignant that you ‘re unable to look away. It burns you and pulsates achingly within your being.

“Tell him about how you slept with Seungmin behind his back, and you never told him! Go ahead.” Yeji ends her speech with disgust dousing her drying eyes and her sharp like voice and it’s all it takes for you to breakdown on the other end, your legs give up on you as if your affliction and iniquity are too heavy for you to carry and you collapse on the ground with sobs wrecking through your system. You wish to become one with the floor, to melt into a puddle and never have to face this. You never have to go through this yet why is Hyunjin is choosing to melt along with you? Why is he on the ground and why is cupping your face tenderly as if you weren’t the worst thing to ever exist in the same space as him?

"Y/N." he’s urging you to confront his turbulent gaze, his clammy palms attempt to wipe away at your tears as if this misery would dissipate once they stop “i-it’s not true right? T-there’s no way it’s true right?” As if a chain had been tightened around your neck, your throat closed up further the only thing that could be heard in the dark hallway of your apartment are the echoes of your sobs and his betrayed breaths.

“I’m so sorry Hyunjin.” You choke out and he shakes his head, desperate for your denial as his hands glide down to your shoulders, shaking them with his own need “no no no don’t apologize, you shouldn’t be apologizing you should be telling me it’s not the truth that Yeji must have understood wrong mhm? Come on say it.” your heart only sunk further in your body at sight of the growing tears in his eyes, conveying the scars that you had once again peeled open in his heart, the flowers you two had been growing so carefully the past few months are ripped harshly from the roots “you wouldn’t do this to me, right Y/N?” They’re withering right in front of your eyes, and you could only watch as they slowly die and dry down, right next to your bent knees.

"You would never do this to me, this isn't you, isn't anything you're capable of right? We talked about how this time was going to be different remember? you told me there's no one else for you, you told me you loved me. Y-you wouldn't do this to me right?" he heaves, arms falling limp by his side incredulously at your growing silence, at your increasing tears.

“I’m s-sorry Hyunjin I-I was going to tell you i-“Hyunjin abruptly stands up, the ache he left on your shoulders is incomparable to the one in your heart “you wouldn’t lie to me, right?” he asks for one last time, unblinking and fists clenched, turning white with his power. He seeks something within your eyes and like a fool you hoped he’d find it; you hoped that maybe the love you felt would be enough of an answer to wash away all this torment clinging to his body.

“I’m sorry,” your words hang in the air around you, replying your pathetic voice right back to your ears and you want nothing but this apartment to collapse upon itself. The grief of you three is too big for any space.

Your thoughts are shattered alongside your heart when Hyunjin turns around and leaves, hurrying out the door with a trail of crimson behind him, painting the ground with his despair and the walls blue with heartbreak, as you stumble on your feet to follow, you want nothing but to drown. To dissipate into air or perhaps be reborn into someone else, someone who won't be at the end of every growing misery of his. Instead you wish to be someone that he could belong to, a place he could come back to. Like the winds to the sea.

you wish, you wish, you wish.

“Hyunjin please let me explain,” you hopelessly plea, following with your shorter frame behind his relentlessly running figure “I wanted to tell you. I swear I did but Yeosang was threatening me and-“

“I fucking loved you!” he yells, abruptly stops in his tracks, and faces you as frustration seeps into his words alongside his being “I trusted you! I asked you time and time again if you were hiding something from me!”

“I know I wanted to tell you I just needed a bit of time I was going to do it-“

“Why didn’t you do it then? Why did you lie to me for months? For fuck’s sake I asked you directly! I asked you if you had something to do with them and you said no!”

“I was scared!” you shout back as the clouds above you gathers and it starts to pour once again, the sky is crying with you and you felt every overbearing emotion sear its way into your existence the sadness, the frustration, the anxiety and the guilt- all blending into one sorrowful song, pulling at your heartstrings and echoing through the air and the dying garden between you two “I was terrified of losing you once again when I finally got you back. and w-when I wanted to tell you Yeosang started threatening me and I didn’t know what to do-“ all your futile attempts stare back at you in mockery, like they’re meaningless and your brain cannot grasp at the reality that is forcing itself on you.

You’re too weak, too fragile and you’re terrified of the space your being takes.

“And sleeping with Seungmin? My best friend?” He questions, voice cracking with his every word and an ineffable presence, as big as your guilt swims around the gates of your heart and the sight of the fresh pain in his eyes breaks it down, pushing through your veins with excruciating force “I-didn’t want to, he forced me.” You whisper with defeat attaching itself to your shoulders, pulling and pulling you into a melting pool of a shade of blue. The only color that had ever looked good on you. The word tastes like rusty metal on your tongue, bringing back flashes of events you had hoped to forget, you thought if you forced yourself not to remember they wouldn't exist. The pain you had felt wasn't real, it was all a figment of your imagination.

But now it's real, in the recollections in your mind, the disgusting feeling you tried so hard to wash away is in the rain instead, clinging itself onto your skin and vowing to taint you forever.

Your fingers loosen their grip around the photographs of you – what could have been you. The edges start burning, taking away all the memories you had promised to carefully keep of these last few months. All the little moments you shared with Hyunjin start playing themselves in your head alongside the painful ones. Clashing together and leaving you stumbling on this edge you're holding on to for some reason you can't figure out. The laughter, the hushed whispers of I love yous and the promises he kissed into your skin are all washed away by the rain, taken away by the doom you so willingly have set on yourself, on your cruel fate.

“It’s always someone else, isn’t it?” he speaks as if your words physically pained him, as if looking at you is a sin and the ache pulling at his heart is his punishment “it’s always someone else, Seungmin, Yeosang, your dad but it’s never your fault is it?” his words weigh you down, you feel like a weak kid again. A shell of a person that tries to retake their claim on everything that has been taken from them. Fighting with force only to end up bruised up, pain that only turns to rage determined to take everything down with you. An inescapable destruction that your hands are responsible for.

Hyunjin scoffs at your silence, at the broken look that washes over your features.

Nothing was lost; it was all destroyed.

“Did you at least have fun? Was it funny when I told you I loved you? Is that why you cried not because you were happy but because you felt victorious?” in the depths of the pain lacing Hyunjin’s voice, the cracks slowly forming on his beaten-up heart a new scar bloomed, another one that was your doing. With your knife-like fingers and venom-infused lips you have managed to inject heartbreak into him once again. Nestling right in the middle of his being and laughing in absolute ecstasy.

I told you this was going to happen. It whispers to him.

“I loved you- I still do, nothing I ever felt for you was fake. I wouldn’t dare to let myself be anything but in love with you Hyunjin ” the desperate rhythm of your heart calls for him only this time- there’s no response.

You feel aversion at your own humanity, your own extant.

A broken agonizingly laden chuckle escapes him “was anything even real? Are you even real? I don’t even know who you are anymore I don’t know this person who lies and hides and runs.” He runs his hand through his hair, growing more frantic in strives to understand – to know.

“Did I even know you to begin with?” your eyes burn with the sting of your tears, your body shivers and you feel like you’re only ever going to be a disfigured scar, something that he will try his hardest to avoid, to not look for, to not touch.

“E-everything I ever felt for you was real I swear. I was going to tell you the truth. I wanted us to be happy Hyunjin. I wanted us to be together without the weight of all my mistakes, the weight of our past.” It’s hopeless, you realize it when Hyunjin’s eyes had grown distant, if his soul had announced its departure leaving him nothing but a body you’re staring at "If you could please let me explain. I will tell you everything please."

"Don't." he holds his hand up to stop you when you take a step closer to him, he backs away, growing more distance between you two.

“Don’t lie to me I can’t bear it anymore. I-i can't do this anymore.” He breaks and even with the droplets of rain pouring over you two, you can still see it clearly, the tears you had managed to forcibly pull out of him once again. No one could be as strong as you, as ruthless as you to dwindle the great Hwang Hyunjin into nothing but a passing wind that washes over you. Cold and gentle and more than anything fleeting. He’s gone as fast as he comes.

All the picture you had so carefully captured burn, turning into ashes that fills your throat and clogs it, leaving you unable to fight back anymore, you’re unable to wave around your white flag, a yearning for peace is no longer an option instead you have been trounced. Darkness devours your essence but this time there’s no comfort in said darkness, the familiarity is gone and you find yourself aching to feel the warmth of the sun on your skin just one more time. Just one more touch, one more kiss, one more whisper.

One more

One more covet for a wish, a spark and maybe something as foolish and impossible as a loop that you could be stuck in, you will live through all these one mores till your death comes knocking, maybe then you wouldn’t be selfish to cling onto him.

How could the moon possibly ever glow if not kissed by the sun?

"We're done Y/N."

A foreboding dread has your spine folding in half and spreads itself through your rips, your hourglass had finally shattered, shards of glass had plunged themselves into your legs holding you into place as Hyunjin turned his back to you, the void that he filled starts to open up immediately. Taking you whole in one piece.

You were out of time and alone.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Taglist: @annybah , @christopherisfoive , @realrintaro , @kkamismom12 , @nujeskz , @wolfietara , @luvvvash , @pnkcasket @shyshyshytwice , @samhomo , @babrieeee , @nhyunn , @enzstr , @idontlikecoffeeortea . @feelikecinderella , @not-very-slay-of-you , @linocvp1d , @amarecerasus , @itgirlalisaa , @arikazu , @hyundumpling , @skzhoes , @cupkiki , @avokralaim , @hyunenenenenennenenehs , @super-btstrash-posts , @mellhwang , @kaiyaba , @hyunjinloverrrr , @finnbbl , @rockyhedgehog , @heyhaez , @anjian03 , @jihanniee , @skvrze , @tia827 , @enzos-shit , @lilliansreality , @sora123sblog , @certified-lana-del-rey-lover , @chartrucewhore , @dessianna1 , @skz1lov , @dreamerwasfound , @lixie-phoria , @doggezz , @sillygoosegoose , @siriusly1 , @iheartchaes , @staygurl4evr , @hello-4456 , @20crowsinahoodie , @hyunjinhwang-23 , @rylea08 , @littlegothishh , @partyparty-yah

(bold can't be tagged please remember to check your settings so i can tag you!)

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rad-batson · 1 year

Text

The Robins as RA’s Because I Said So

Credentials: I’m an RA, trust me.

Dick Grayson: The “Cool” RA

His friends told him he’d be great at it so he applied

Holds your hair back when you’re throwing up in the bathroom

Gives life lessons at every opportunity even when you don’t want them

Sees his residents in the hallway and proceeds to talk their ear off

Knocks on your door if he hasn’t seen you in a few days to make sure you’re doing alright

Has the “I’m not mad. I’m just disappointed” face on point

You actually feel bad when he catches you drinking in the halls :(

Jason Todd: The Cool RA

Wanted something to pad his resume so he applied

Will help you hide a body. “Just ask.” You didn’t, but you can’t remember how it came up either

Doesn’t care about the Rules, per se, but he will judge you for lacking common sense

“You know what, Derek? I’m writing you up just for being stupid. You could have at least put it in a paper bag.”

Organizes all of his events last minute, best attendance in the building

One day, he lets it slip that he has a 4.3 GPA

No one believes him until he actually shows them with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face

Tim Drake: The Invisible RA

Didn’t want to go apartment hunting so he applied for the free housing

Do you even have an RA? Does he even live here?

Apparently, he’s like triple-majoring or something, but like…no one knows what for. Or how. (He's really Undecided)

Does the bare minimum, but somehow still excels at his job

Everyone who sees him has a completely different description of what he looks like

One person starts the rumor that he’s a vampire, which is only made worse when someone sees him looking ghostly pale while chugging some weird red drink (Ultra Red Monster) in the middle of the night

Stephanie Brown: The Best Friend RA

One of those people who actually likes living in student housing so she applied

Gossips with everyone

“You didn’t hear this from me but-“ and “What am I, your mother?” are her most common phrases

Will probably get fired just because of how many university secrets she’s spilled

Keeps her door open at all times, her room is super cute too

One of her residents walks in and says, “You won’t believe what my boyfriend did this time!” Stephanie is already popping popcorn.

Will let you get away with shit if you make a good case for yourself

Damian Wayne: The Try-Hard RA

It’s a tradition in his family now, and he takes those very seriously, so he applied

A troublemaker’s worst nightmare

He will catch you drinking. No one knows how. Even his boss thinks it’s suspicious.

Seconds from a mental breakdown at all times of the day

Absolutely livid when the event he spent the least amount of effort on gets the best attendance (He just brought all of his art supplies to the lounge and taught people how to draw)

Writes incident reports like they’re addressed to the Pentagon

A resident comes to his door crying because her grandmother passed away, and Damian completely blanks on what to do so he lets her into his room and gives her a really long hug while she calms down, then he sits her down and lets her vent for an hour. A week later, she comes back and thanks him for being there when she needed it. It sticks with him for years.

#batfamily #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #stephanie brown #damian wayne #batfam #robin #batfamily headcanons #dc robin #dc #tw death

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luveline · 1 year

Text

𝐢𝐟 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐬 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

part one | part two

You don’t mean to make an enemy of Eddie Munson — he’s handsome, and talented, but he’s the biggest jerk you’ve ever met. Eddie thinks you’re infuriatingly pretty, emphasis on the infuriating. Too bad you just can’t seem to leave each other alone.

fem!reader, enemies-to-lovers, rival rockstars, mutual pining, slight miscommunication, angst, hurt-comfort, eddie has mixed intentions, sexual tension, TW bullying (in case), TW recreational drug use, drinking, smoking, swearing. disclaimer: I can’t play an instrument

𓆩❤︎𓆪

The Coral Apartments, California, November 1990

Eddie Munson looks good on TV. You try to convince yourself that it's the blurry imagery, the three-toned LED's, but you know it's because he's plain good-looking. Rockstar suits him. Glam suits him; eyeliner, ripped shirts, ever-bruised knuckles and cut up fingertips that speak of a wrought dedication to the music he plays.

You look away from the TV and push the sheets down with your feet, naked legs flat to the mattress and covered in your own cuts and bruises. It's not entirely Morgan's fault, but every time you see the shiny scar on your ankle you get mad at her again. She'd been sloppy on stage, pulled her mic tight and sent you reeling over it like a tripwire. You'd cut up your legs, sprained your wrist, and split your chin. On national TV. In front of thousands of people.

Your ego is pretty bruised too.

Worse was the bouquet of flowers you'd been sent the day after, huge and bursting with colour from a certain dark-haired thorn in your side.

Saw you ate shit. Stop day-dreaming about me during sets and you'll be fine. EM

You'd trashed the card but hadn't had the heart to fob the flowers. The last survivors of the bunch wilt slowly on the nightstand beside you, a much too pretty reminder of somebody you're trying to forget. Or rather, erase. You won't admit to yourself what happened at Monsters of Rock, because admitting it means he's winning.

Morgan pushes your door open with her hip. If she's perturbed to find you in your underwear she doesn't say a word, making a beeline for your bag. She takes out your Newports and taps the carton against her chest.

"What's up?" she asks, sliding a cigarette from the box and propping it between her shiny lips. "You still feeling sorry for yourself?"

"Morgan."

She lights her cigarette, laughing through an exhale of smoke. "How many times do I have to say sorry?"

"Once would be nice."

"Babe." Morgan sits at the end of your bed, in a good mood for once but still herself. "I'm sorry you fell over my mic."

She likely doesn't even see what's wrong with her apology. You accept it for what it is and hold your arm out for the pack and lighter. Knees pulled up, you settle against the headboard and light a cigarette yourself, but snuff it out after a shallow inhale. Nothing feels worth indulging in when the knot of anxiety in your chest keeps on tightening.

"Where's Ananya?" you ask.

"You're watching this again?"

You glance at the TV where Corroded Coffin play through their Monsters of Rock set.

"M'just waiting for us," you lie mildly.

"Sure… You know, you shouldn't feel bad about your spill last week. Look at Munson. Biggest crowd of his life and he's tripping over an E major."

She snorts, the two of you watching as the Eddie on screen looks to the left of the stage and misses his mark.

"How do you flub that?" She rolls her eyes. "Boys."

How did he flub it? You'd been standing on the side stage cleaned up and smiling like you were half in love with him. The recording is proof — whatever power it is that he has over you, you have something similar over him.

"Anya's in the lobby waiting for us."

You sit up.

"Why?"

Morgan points at the alarm clock on your nightstand with the smouldering tip of her cigarette. "It's Friday."

"It's Thursday."

She smiles at you. If you didn't know her, the look of pity on her face might almost feel genuine. As it stands, she's a magnanimous bitch when she wants to be. She's lucky that it suits her.

"It's Friday, babe. And we're," —she tilts her head to one side, the bemusement in her eyes unmissable— "ten minutes late."

"Shit. Shit." You stand up on wobbly legs. "Fuck."

"Don't worry! I got you something."

With Morgan, you aren't sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing. But you don't really have a choice.

—

Eddie won't admit to anybody why he finds himself in California. The band isn't touring, award season is mostly over. He should go home and see Wayne because fuck he's a bad nephew, a bad son, and Wayne deserves a whole lot better than one phone call a week when Eddie's too hungover to actually listen to what his uncle is saying. He should head back to Hawkins and make sure Wayne's actually cashing in the cheque's Eddie's been sending.

He shouldn't be hanging around parties hosted by people he only knows from TV looking for you, that's for sure.

The good thing about being semi famous is that introductions don't matter. Either somebody already knows you or they don't, and everybody assumes you already know them. Eddie can't count how many times somebody's pulled him in for a one-armed hug and said "Good to see you again," when they've never met before.

It could be the coke. It's probably the ego.

Eddie isn't extremely introspective or anything, but he hopes to fuck that he isn't an asshole. He knows he is in superficial ways. He's said some hurtful shit to people — to you — he wishes every now and then that he could take back. In the moment it had felt right to tease you, to belittle you as he thought you'd belittled him. He'd wanted to put his hand out and ask how high you can jump. But then he remembers how your bandmates had spoken to you, or your glitzy smile. He remembers the twisting pain in his chest when you'd fallen over on stage a week ago (though if anybody asks, he heard about it from somebody else). You'd smashed into the floor with a cruel force, arms twisted trying to protect your guitar, not a second spared to save yourself. You'd got back on your feet with blood dripping down your chin and played the rest of the song without complaint. Not one person had stepped in to clean you up.

It drives Eddie insane. He can't help it. He hates you and he wants to linger on the sidelines and watch you play. He can't stand the despondent look in your eyes when you look at him, when you look at the floor. He needs you to know that you're better than they tell you, but he can't make himself say the words.

So he'd sent you flowers and made a lame joke, hoping for hot and coming off desperate no doubt. He'd regretted it as soon as he'd hung up the phone, but he hadn't cancelled the order. Something colourful, he'd said. What flowers cheer people up?

The florist had laughed at his awkward tone and said that all flowers do the trick.

God, he hopes so.

Which isn't to say Eddie likes you. He can't stand you, actually, come to think of it, standing in the sticky pit of some actress' kitchen as he pioneers the radio and flicks through to Roller FM. Resentment burns like fire as the dial clicks beneath his fingers, turning the volume up enough to hear the radio host introduce your band.

"And tonight, a month before their new studio album hits the charts, Godless are letting us be the first to hear the second single. The outpour of hype after their first, Down and Out, was no small feat, and we have the lovely ladies here tonight to walk us through that fresh sound. But first, let's spin that new single. Ladies and gents, this is Silver Ringed…"

Godless are about as cohesive as Corroded Coffin. They have a unique sound as most chart toppers tend to have, and as much as he thinks your front woman is a total hack, she can sing. Her voice moves from sultry and quiet to aggressive and rasping. She isn't afraid to scream when she needs to, and you and Ananya obviously won't let yourselves be outdone. Your music is visceral. It's good. Not Corroded Coffin good, you don't have the clean cut sound they do, but Eddie knows that isn't the point. It's supposed to be a little dirty, and since they let you on the writing floor it's getting worse. Better. Whatever.

Eddie rubs his face with both hands.

When the song ends, the radio host asks some questions about the new album, inspirations, touring, promotional album covers, the works, and Eddie hates himself for waiting to hear your voice. He grows irritated at the sound of Morgan's raspy nonchalance.

"I mean, you guys are really stepping into a new genre here." It's true. Godless and bands like yours are more energetic, more aggressive than what Eddie plays. It's a divisive subject. Eddie likes it, but he knows a ton of metalheads who think it's immature. It's certainly not traditional. "Your first album was a whole lot different. And it was good, Godless broke into the scene! But this is new. You guys are more original and more popular than ever. Why the change?" The host laughs. "Well, she's sitting right here."

Eddie thinks he can hear you inhale, but it's Morgan who speaks.

"I wanted more for us, you know? Our first record, we just wanted to prove we could do it. This time we want to prove no one else can."

Jamison scoffs. Eddie looks up from the radio and finds his bandmate with a beer in hand. He tries to steal it and gets an elbow to the chest for the effort.

"Dick," he says.

"Get your own." Jamison tilts his head toward the radio in a show of tuning in. "Can't tear yourself away, huh? How's your girlfriend?"

"Christ," Eddie hisses.

"You need him. Aw, she sounds so sweet."

Eddie startles back to the radio, and sure enough you've finally been allowed to talk. Your voice is soft with nerves.

"It's a lot to adjust to, I think I'm slow to- uh, get with the program. But I'm so happy to get to make music and to be a part of something this sick. Uh, this amazing, I mean."

Poor girl, he thinks. By the end of your answer you sound like you want the ground to swallow you up. Thankfully the host is a professional, and laughs warmly.

"It's a big lifestyle change! We talked a little about influence, is there a track I can play you guys out with? What's your favourite?" he asks.

"Me?" you ask.

"Yeah, you."

"Oh, uh…" You laugh, sounding frazzled and sweet at once. "It has to be Black Sabbath, right? Do you guys have, um, The Mob Rules? Mob Rules is my favourite."

Eddie needs to get very drunk, he decides, and he does. He drinks until he can't taste the difference between the shitty craft beer and seven hundred dollar cognac. Until he forgets why he was drinking in the first place, to erase the sound of your voice and your Sabbath recommendation — who the fuck picks Mob Rules over Heaven and Hell? He's tipsy and he won't remember, but he wants to fuck you stupid just for that (affectionately).

He loves Mob Rules.

They move from one party to another, sloshed in the back of a car he still can't afford with his rockstar paycheck, more than drunk in the bathroom of a Studio City mansion kissing powder off of his fingers. Whatever he's been given doesn't last very long (though it hits hard), and he comes back to reality on a huge fancy couch surrounded by people, some he knows and most he doesn't.

"I need a drink," he says.

And he gets the shock of his life.

"I don't think that's a very good idea," you say gently.

Eddie swings his head to yours, finding you in a nice dress, the gem of a necklace fallen down the valley of your chest. The lights are high and blaring and he can see the fine hairs of your face, the shine of your lipgloss like a siren call.

"Why are you here?" he asks.

You shrug. He watches your shoulders.

"I need a drink," he says again.

"Like, a beer? I don't judge but I think you’ll get alcohol poisoning if you drink anything else."

"Like a beer."

You look like you might stand up and get him one, for a second. He's ultimately glad that you don't. You twist around, elbow over the back of the couch, and your face beams like a star as you call, "Hey, Dornie? Could you toss me a beer, please?"

Eddie worries he'd wanted to see you so badly you've appeared as a hallucination, and he hates himself and it's all old news anyways, but you turn back with a cold as ice beer in hand and press it into his arm until he whines.

"I'm sobering you up," you tease, again so gently. He does not like how you're looking at him, like you feel sorry for him.

He takes the beer though the second sip makes him feel sick to his stomach, and tries not to look at you.

"What, you don't want to be my friend anymore?" you ask.

What has he said?

"Sweetheart," he says, focusing very hard on sounding solid, "a friend is the last thing I want from you."

"Could've fooled me… Hey, you wanna know a secret?"

"What?"

You lean in close, smelling of perfume, your face undeniably touchable. "I heard from somebody who heard from somebody else that they're kicking Tony Martin to the curb."

He blinks. "Sabbath?"

"Uh-huh."

"Why the fuck would they do that?"

"Think on it, baby."

If he couldn't smell the flowery punch of your perfume, or see the individual lashes that shield your waterline, he'd definitely think you were a dream. You're here, and you're talking to him like you like him, looking at him like you did, you cruel, awful thing, that day at Monsters of Rock when he'd pressed you up against a wall and kissed you until his lips burned. You'd kissed back. You'd responded, your lips pressing against his with more enthusiasm than made any sense.

Now you're calling him baby and telling him secrets, your knees tucked together and the outside of your thigh warming a stripe under his jeans. It feels surreal. Your body heat is sinking into his skin.

Somebody across the coffee table entices you into conversation. Eddie listens to you talk. Maybe high Eddie is a nicer guy than sober Eddie (unlikely), because you don't seem repulsed by his company. Considering how you left things, your little corner shop spat and his bruising kiss, he hadn't been expecting a warm welcome.

"Did you–" he starts, insecure and hiding it as best as he can, fingers itching for a cigarette, for something to do, "did you like the flowers?"

"You already asked me that." You peek down at his beer. "Could I have that?"

He hands it over numbly.

"It's not a good idea, you know? Drugs and drink, mixing them together. It messes with your heart," you tell him.

"Don't act all innocent," he says.

"No, I know, I'm not trying to lecture you 'cause I do shit I shouldn't do, but– you looked one bump from a heart attack. Seriously."

"Why do you care?"

You laugh. Your nose wrinkles. "I don't know."

It's not the answer he wanted, but it's the one he deserves.

He's spent weeks talking to himself, imagining conversations between you both. He's memorised defences, shamefully readied a few insults in case you'd prepared your own, but nothing comes to mind now. He's speechless.

You drink his beer and he thinks about how his lips had been at the mouth of it not ten minutes ago. It shouldn't matter. You've already kissed him. It shouldn't.

"I don't think I took what I meant to," he admits.

"Me neither. Morgan said they've been cutting with procaine around the hills. Did you get super numb?"

He can't remember. He doesn't want to talk about any of this with you. "I heard you on the radio."

"You did?"

"You were scared."

"No." You tear the tab off of the beer and put it in his hand. "I like high Eddie, he’s honest."

"I'm not, really…"

"Should see your pupils."

Maybe he is, then. That could explain why he keeps saying what he's thinking without pausing to check if it sounds cool. He has his defences up to the ceiling usually, wouldn't ever let you or anybody else in, not here.

He's staring at you.

You brush the side of his arm with your fingernails.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" he asks.

Your small smile flattens into a line. "I don't know, Eddie. Who are you gonna tell? Who'd believe you? As far as the tabloids and- and our friends are aware, we hate each other."

"It didn't feel like you hated me."

"I didn't."

"But you do now?"

You stand up. Eddie gets caught in your smile, charming with something worse lurking beneath. You brush the hair out of his face and station your hands at the base of his neck, dropping your head toward his ear.

"Not telling," you whisper.

He thinks for a moment you're gonna kiss him, his ear or his neck, but you scratch his scalp lightly and leave as he's getting to grips with the feeling of your breath against his skin.

—

Dolly Floor, California, December 1990

Dolly Floor is a club in West Hollywood frequented by movie stars. You're pretty sure you only get in because of Morgan's snow trail incident months ago, and you almost wish they'd sent you packing when you see how densely hedged it is inside. The temperature hikes up with every step you take inside, and soon Morgan's dropping your wrist in favour of one of her friends across the way, leaving you totally alone.

You're dressed in too much clothing for the occasion, a dress with sleeves and a leather jacket that isn't yours, big boots to protect your feet from crushing crowds. Morgan had thrown a pair of kitten heels at you in frustration. For once you'd told her no. She's been oddly friendly lately, letting you do as you please with nothing more than an irritated huff, and so you've got tights and socks alike stuffed into your shoes — you're sick of aches and pains.

If anybody steps on your toes tonight, you're going home.

The air is thick with humidity, exhaled breath, the scent of alcohol explaining the stickiness under your footsteps. You don't know many people, but you know Dornie and, irritatingly, half of Corroded Coffin, so you beeline for the band where they're holed up at the back and hope one of them will give you a drink.

There's gotta be thirty different people hanging out. How they can hear each other talk is a mystery. Dornie puts his arm out when he sees you and you slide into his side, reaching up on tiptoes to kiss his pale cheek.

"Careful," he says, "you'll make someone jealous."

You're affectionate with Dornie 'cause he's nice. Just plain nice, which is hard to find in Hollywood. He's the very first friend you've made that's yet to break your heart, and better, he hasn't tried to sleep with you.

Not that you think you're some unresistable notch.

"Who'd be jealous of me?" you ask.

"Of me." He rubs your shoulder through leather. "It's good to see you, doll. Your chin's healing up nice, yeah? Or is it make-up?"

He taps your chin.

It unlocks a reluctant memory, the shadow of a different hand, heavy with intoxication but painstakingly gentle.

"It's a bit of make-up," you admit, lifting your chin so he can see it.

"Still, it's getting better. How are your knees?"

Hiding behind your tights. "They're gnarly. Doesn't hurt to walk much now though."

Dornie grins. He has a pretty smile with white wonky teeth and three lip rings on one side. His hair is shorn short, unlike most of the guys here rocking hair to the ears or even longer. His eyes are a light brown, emphasising the bruising bags under his eyes. He looks tired.

"Don't look, but I'm getting some serious glarage from your favourite guitarist."

"You're my favourite guitarist," you say, and you mean it. His arm is a comforting weight. It feels so good to have a friend.

"Your second favourite."

You step completely into Dornie's view and look up at him. "How's he look now?"

"Chilling. Want me to guide you over to the bar like we're lovers?"

"Don't say it like that."

Dornie pulls you across the floor back to the bar, where blessed cool air seeps down from the air-conditioning and the drinks leave pools of condensation the second they're put down. Dornie buys you a mystery cocktail that tastes more like water than juice. You sip at it happily, using your more neutral vantage point to get a good look at Eddie.

He's sprawled against a booth wall with one arm behind his head, a cigarette sending smoke up to the wall. He looks better than the last time you'd seen him. There's colour in his cheeks, though that might be the lighting. Dolly Floor is a strange venue, like a strip club without the workers, or a restaurant without food. It doesn't feel like a club, but there's a small stage around the corner from the bar where good music plays live, and it doesn't take much convincing for Dornie to come and watch the show with you for a bit. Some of his friends join you, a woman called Natalie, a man named Matfield, and they're both as nice as he is.

"We heard the new record!" Matfield says across the high table, the golden watch on his wrist a beacon under the reflections of the harsh stage lights.

"Hated it?" you ask.

He chuckles. "All the screaming isn't for me, baby, but that shit doesn't matter. It was good. How's it doing?"

"I honestly haven't looked," you say, opening your box of Newports and offering them out like candy. Everybody takes one.

"Better not to know tonight," Natalie says agreeably, her perfect black hair curled toward her face like a seraphim shifting as she leans in for a light. "All you have to do is celebrate."

You'd wanted, foolishly, to celebrate with the girls. Ananya had dipped as soon as she could and you get it, she has her own friends, but Morgan knocking the door of your room had been a great relief. If at least one of them wants to spend time with you, that's enough. Only, Morgan had made it clear as she was sifting through your clothes that she was going to try and find, "like, someone who's actually interesting." You'd taken it about half as personally as you would've a few months ago.

Hence Dornie. You'd called him on the landlines and he'd said, "Yeah, babe, I'll meet you there."

Thank whatever's watching for Dornie.

He buys you another drink and then another, says your money's no good and tonight's about you. His friends are great, including you in all their jokes and smiles, and when the lights go down and the music gets louder you head out onto the glowing tiles and dance with them.

Eddie finds you not long after. Slinking up from your peripherals, hand in his pocket.

"What Eddie am I seeing tonight? The nice one?"

Eddie doesn't flinch at your sudden question. "You look good."

He'd approached from the left. You'd felt it rather than heard him, and you'd guessed right. He steps further into view, not smiling, not not smiling. He looks good too.

"I heard the album."

You hate how much you care. "Yeah?"

"It was good. It wasn't metal, but it was good."

You're laughing before he's even finished, turning away from him in a feigned sense of superiority. I don't care what you think.

Eddie doesn't grab you. You wouldn't care if he did. He follows by your elbow and says, "Come on, you know it isn't."

"Just 'cause it doesn't sound rooted in the 70s," you say with a smile.

"That's the whole point. It's baseless, there's nothing traditional in it. It isn't metal, but it's rock, and it's good, and–"

"Slow down, Munson. A girl'd think you liked her."

"I'm objective."

"You're not."

"I'm not, but my opinions are right. Everybody says that, but when I do it's true, so…"

You look at him properly. He looks present in a way he hasn’t before in front of you. There’s a total clarity behind his eyes that you yourself don’t have tonight. He looks sober. Not that you thought he was an addict, not that you didn’t. There’s a certain blasé attitude to substance abuse when you get a kick of fame. Everybody has something in their pocket and you’ll admit to buying into it, taking stuff you shouldn’t in unfamiliar places. You know, of course, that drugs are fucking dangerous. But you hadn’t been freaked out by them until the other night, when you bumped into Eddie outside of the bathroom in Dornie’s friend’s house and he hadn’t recognised you for a solid ten seconds.

He’s chewing on nothing.

“I didn’t do it to hold over you,” you say.

“What?”

“Look after you. It wasn’t… I mean, I wasn’t making fun of you. And I’m not gonna tell anybody.”

“Generous.” His eyes narrow subtly.

“So if that’s what you’re doing.” You look down to his neck where a silver chain rests, thin, new and hidden under his shirt. “Checking to make sure, I’m not.”

“You think I’m here to make sure you don’t tattle?”

You’re too tipsy to feel embarrassed. “You’re here to buy me a drink, then. I want a cherry margarita with extra shiny cherries and all the salt on the rim, please. Please,” you add, because the second one hadn’t felt polite enough.

Eddie nods and half turns. “Shiny cherry?” he asks. You almost miss it, his soft tone nearly lost in the noise.

“Maraschino… they’re pink.”

“You’re not gonna come with me?”

“Get lost often?”

Eddie holds his hand out. You’re supposed to think of how his hand looks, his callouses, his rings, the cut across his thumb, the size and length of his fingers. You think about them enough when he isn’t around, but now, right now, your heart thuds against your chest. Your thoughts are a mess until they aren’t — hold his hand. You put your fingers against his palm and he squeezes them together like he’s collected them, tugging you out of the crowd and across the room to the slick black bar.

You’re still angry with him. You’re wounded, knife to the gut and all the red blood because he’d been right, you’re a dog, you do what people tell you to, you’re doing it right now, but then he squeezes your hand with a light enough pressure that you’re sure you’ve imagined it until he does it again, leaning up against the bar as he gives your order. “Extra cherries,” he says to the barkeep with a smile, letting your hand go in favour of his own drink.

The crowd surges with a new song and people brush your calves as they walk around you. You and Eddie stay at the bar. He sips on a bottle of water. You wait for your margarita.

“Your cut’s healing up,” he says.

You try not to notice your touching arms. “It was bad, right? It must’ve been. You felt so sorry for me,” —the words burn— “you sent me the biggest bouquet I’ve ever gotten in my life.”

“I didn’t feel sorry for you, sweetheart, can you read?”

“Between the lines, yes,” you say, nodding your head once, emphatic as you accept your margarita. “Thank you.”

“I didn’t feel sorry for you. Felt bad for you-“ He holds up a pale palm. “My fault an’ all, I’ll try to be less daydream worthy.”

“I wasn’t thinking about you. Did you see it? She tripped me up with her mic doing a shitty Stevie Nicks impression.”

“Wrong genre.”

You laugh at him. “Exactly! That’s the point.”

“Yeah, I saw it.”

You raise your eyebrows. Eddie’s head tips forward and his hair hides his cheeks, the subtlest impression of his cheekbones lost to a curtain of curls. He twists one of his rings around his finger.

“She- You should be more careful,” he says.

Everything’s raw with him, criticism most of all, but you’re feeling generous. You fish one of your shiny cherries from the margarita glass, surprised to find its stalk intact, and break the delicate skin between your teeth. You mull over what he’s saying as the sweet flavour aches in your jaw. You could’ve been more cautious. You’d been having fun, and you’d thought you could trust the people you work with to have your back. It was a little silly to assume; neither Morgan nor Ananya have ever shown you much second thought.

“Yeah, I think I should be,” you say finally, putting the cherry stalk in your mouth.

“What are you doing?”

You ignore him and try to tie a cherry stem knot. You keep trying until you think you’ve got it. You pull the stem from your tongue.

“Shit,” you curse, glaring at the curved stem. “Thought I had it.”

Eddie grins and leans into your space, fingers quick to pinch a cherry from your margarita.

He brings it to your mouth. You keep your lips pressed closed and search his face for a trick. Nothing peaks out, not a hint of cruelty to his pinked lips or flush of soft lashes. You try not to breathe as you open your mouth, and Eddie pushes the round of the cherry over your bottom lip slowly.

You bite down.

Eddie takes your stalk and places it on his own tongue. He closes his mouth, and within five seconds he’s taking out a knitted stem with a prideful buzz about him. Any smugness he’d held dissipates. He looks adorable.

“Beat you,” he says.

“Arrogant doesn’t suit you.”

“Arrogant absolutely suits me,” he argues, the corners of his lips twitching up, up, up. He’s smiling so much. He reminds you of somebody. “Sore loser doesn’t suit you.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“What’s that mean?”

“What’s that mean?” you repeat. “I smile at you across a stage set and you push me up against a wall.”

“Smile? That’s what you’d call that?”

You’re facing each other now. Eddie inches closer as he speaks, each word said with a precision that can’t be unpracticed. “I’m playing in front of near enough a hundred thousand people, kind of crowd I fucking dreamed of as a kid, in front of actual real life rockstars, and you stroll up to side stage dressed like–”

He cuts himself off. An olive branch. A stopper. A dam. His inhale infuriates you.

“No, go on. Dressed like what, superstar?”

“Like a fucking groupie.”

You know he’s only said it to try and get a rise out of you. He knows that you know. He looks like he wants to take it back.

You want him to push it further.

“And you liked it,” you say, angry. Quiet. “You liked it and you couldn’t get a handle on it.”

“No,” he says, knowing what you’re implying, voice hot and fast, “I kissed you because I knew you wanted me to. I knew what it would do to you.”

“I wanted you to?” you ask.

“Didn’t you?”

“I wanted to mess with your head ‘cause you fucking harsssed me–”

He cuts you off, “You wanted to mess with me because you hated that I was right about you. Not everything, but enough. Those girls treat you like shit. And you let them, or you’ll be the next Millyana, sitting at home watching the rest of us on TV wondering why you couldn’t make it out.” Something in his expression flickers like a rubber band has struck his skin.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

For the first time, you mean it. You worked hard to get here, had people treat you a whole heap worse than Eddie’s hot and cold, than Ananya's indifference and Morgan’s narcissism. Hours in buses with your neck craned against a short ceiling scribbling music and days toeing the line with a guitar falling apart in your hands. You scrimped and saved and starved for this.

Eddie smiles at you. For the second time that night, he looks like somebody else.

“I know,” he says. “I think we’re finally on the same page.”

—

Eddie buys you another drink. Your tipsiness had felt so far away when things got heated, but now your bubbly smile is back, and you’re actually talking to him. About music, sure, but the movies, the weather, the fancy apartments the record company put you up in.

“Finally got my own room so Ananya can stop complaining about the noise,” you say with a wink.

He chokes on his water. “The noise?”

“I’m a very dedicated player.”

You let a small silence pervade before bursting into giggles, hand patting his upper arm. “I’m kidding! She gets mad ‘cos I’m trying to learn YYZ but it is so, so hard.”

“Shit is hard,” he says. “Do you even have time for that? You start touring again in a month, maybe you should, you know, slack off?”

“No, because if I’m doing nothing I’m nothing.”

Eddie — fuck fuck fuck — shouldn’t pry.

“You’re not nothing.”

You wrinkle your nose at him and he loves when you do it. It’s not cute, really, but everything you do is cute in a way he refuses to unpack. “No, I’m not, I don’t know why I said that.”

“I get it, though. You feel like… maybe it's all gonna stop one day. Wake up with a bad case of the yips and no matter how good you were…”

“Yeah.” You take a very noisy slurp of margarita. “I’m so afraid that I’m gonna be nothing that I can’t stop.”

Eddie throws his gaze around the room. It’s no coincidence that your friend Dornie keeps looking his way; the night is winding down and there’s barely anybody dancing. It’s home time.

“You won’t be nothing,” he says, easing the margarita out of your hands. He might’ve bought you one too many. “I’m sorry for, uh, getting you drunk.”

“I got myself at least three parts there. Out of five.”

“At least three parts,” he agrees.

He wants, very badly, to touch your face. Hold your cheek in his palm. “Hey,” he says lightly. “Uh, you got something. On your cheek.”

You brush your dewy skin with an embarrassed look about you, shoulder risen and eyes all droopy with booze. “Here?”

“Higher.”

He watches you scrub at nothing. He’s tricking you. He feels awful.

“Still haven’t got it?”

“‘Fraid not, baby.”

“You get it.” You brandish your cheek.

Eddie keeps a good distance. He knows what he’s doing is weird, he just wants to touch you for a second. He rubs the pad of his thumb down your face, tracing the path of a tear you haven’t shed. Eye to chin.

“You’re good,” he says, dropping his hand.

“Thank you.”

You’re slurring. He thinks you’re more tired than you are tipsy (though you are, undeniably, inebriated), and he wonders where all the time went, how it’s suddenly been an hour with you and your conversation. There’d been a moment where he thought he’d fucked it and your eyes had shone with hurt, but you’re smiling, he’s smiling, and Dornie looks aggrieved. All good things.

“I think you better get going,” he murmurs.

“Sick of me?” you ask, not teasing.

“No. Your friend’s waiting for you.”

You look over your shoulder and your smile glows. You start babbling about how that’s your friend Dornie (he knows, you’ve only told him five times) and how Dornie is sooooo nice. You deserve somebody being nice to you right from the start. Eddie’s trying to make it right but he’s said some shit he can’t take back. He wants you to have someone who’s a hundred percent sweet on you, he just doesn’t wanna have to hear the adoration in your voice when you talk about it.

Eddie’s a dick. Self-admitted.

You go home with an arm looped around Dornie’s waist. (Dornie said high-pitched, wide-eyed.) Eddie pulls a handful of bills from his wallet to pay for the drinks he’d bought, stuffing the change in a tip jar on the way back to the dregs of the coffin crew. Jamison’s long gone and Jeff didn’t wanna come, but Gareth’s smoking a cigarette with another guy’s hand mysteriously lapward.

He clears his throat. “I’m going home and taking the car.”

“Wait for me?”

Eddie cringes. “Sure.”

Eddie sits in the car. One hand on the wheel, the other in his pocket. He thinks about tonight, your hair, your smile, the way your arm had brushed up against his. He wonders if this is the right move. Eddie’s not mad at you anymore for forgetting who he was, for your teasing at the Prover Theatre or your rookie comments. And Monsters of Rock, that had been half spite and half bravado. Spur of the moment bravery. Idiocy. Yeah he’d kissed you to piss you off, but he’d also done it because he wanted to.

He sighs and takes your discarded pull tab out of his pocket. He thumbs the rounded edge, thinking harder than one guy should ever think about anything that isn’t metal. Shit, he thinks. I gotta go home.

𓆩❤︎𓆪

note: they are not done hating each other I am just warming up! thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed <3

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #stranger things fic #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #rockstar!eddie #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie munson x reader #rockstar!eddie x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson angst

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gyupinkys · 9 months

Text

AMANDA?

LEE SEOKMIN X READER

WC: 4.1K

"DK, I know you're trying to kill me."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

WARNINGS: MURDER, GORE, DOMESTIC ABUSE (Obviously not from DK.), CHEATING, GUNS, unprotected sex, oral, face sitting, thigh riding, cream pie, and a whole lot of DK fucking you better than your asshole husband.

“Why does she need to die?” Seokmin asks, feeling unsure about this situation.

“DK, You’d think after all these years you’d be fine with killing people. Especially him” Cheol says, raising his eyebrow.

“But, She’s innocent. We should just kill him.”

“Trust me, we are gonna kill him but this would hurt him more. You know she’s his prized possession, he has some kind of sick obsession with her. I expect her to be dead in the next two weeks, make it look like an accident, but I want him to know it was us.”

“How am I supposed to get her to talk to me? He probably keeps watch over her 24/7.”

“I don’t know, but figure it out. Do not disappoint me”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Every time he enters the room, you feel the same despair you always have. He’s an anomaly, he’s a fucking monster. You look up at him as he enters your shared bedroom. He’s drunk. Great.

“Can you sleep in the other room tonight?” you ask as gently as possible, trying to not upset him.

“Why would I do that?” he slurs.

“Because you’re drunk.”

“And? My wife doesnt want to share a bed with me because I’m fucking drunk?” he says starting to get upset. This is what you’ve been trying to avoid.

“I’m sorry, you can just stay. I don’t know what I was thinking.” you can feel the tears forming in your eyes.

“No, I think you just don’t want me.” he spits getting close to you. “I give your stupid ass everything. Without me you’d still be poor and fucking useless. You’re not good for anything, you fucking need me. I saved you! ”

You just stare at him, too scared to respond. He didn’t save you. He forced you to marry him. “Answer me you fucking bitch.” he spits grabbing your hair.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” you cry out trying not to upset him further.

“If I knew you were such an idiot I wouldn’t have looked your way.” he growls, slapping you across the face. You just stay silent, anything you do makes it worse yet doing nothing makes it worse. There's no winning. You just look at him with tears in your eyes but a harsh punch to your jaw only makes you give up. You sit there and take the beating, there's nothing you can do to stop it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You do a good job at covering the bruises, it’s been a few days so they aren't as prominent. After two years of dealing with this, you’ve learned how to pretend. Days like this you wish you fought him harder, told someone what he was doing before it was too late. You walk around the city and put on a brave face, trying to cheer yourself up. You walk into your favorite boba shop, nothing can cheer you up like a strawberry milk slush. As you’re sipping your drink a man sits in the chair across from you.

“Amanda?” he says in a questioning tone, looking at you.

“Uh, that's not me.”

“Oh.” he says with a pout.

You just look at him, unsure of what to say next. “Are you sure that's not your name?” he asks with a wide smile. Wow, his smile is so bright. The way his eyes shrink up makes him look so cute. You can’t help but smile, his presence is somehow so comforting and warm.

“I’m quite sure, but why don’t you tell me your name?”

“I’m DK.”

“Your name is DK?” you ask in disbelief.

“Well my real name is Seokmin, but my friends call me Dk, which is short for Dokyeom.”

“Why does your nickname have a nickname?”

“I’m not sure. My friends are pretty weird.”

You can’t help but laugh.

“Well my name is Y/N.” you say with a bright smile.

“Well that’s quite far from Amanda.” he jokes.

“Can I ask why you thought I was Amanda?”

“I didn’t think you were actually Amanda, I just didn’t have a pick up line.” he admits sheepishly.

You can’t get the smile off your face. “Oh that's definitely a new one.”

“Did it work?”

“It would have if I wasn’t married.”

He dramatically falls back and clutches his chest. “I feel my world falling apart.” he says as he fake dies.

You can’t contain your laughter. What an idiot you think to yourself.

“You’re so dramatic. You just met me.”

“But now I have to call the venue and cancel the wedding.”

You smile and shake your head. If your husband saw you right now you would be dead meat. Just the thought makes you shudder and withdraw from the conversation. He senses your sudden change in mood.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“No, no it’s not you.”

“You’re worried about your husband?”

“Yea. He just wouldn’t like to see me talking to you.”

“Because I’m a guy?”

“Yea.”

“He sounds like an ass.”

You give him a small smile. “He’s just overprotective.”

“Well we can just be friends.”

“He doesn’t let me have friends.”

He looks at you bewildered. “He doesn't let you?”

“He says they aren’t good for me.” you say embarrassed. Who isn’t allowed to have friends?

“The more you speak of him the more I want to beat his ass.”

“Trust me, you don’t want to get involved with him.”

“What, you don’t think I could take him?” he says as he flexes his muscles dramatically, obviously trying to make you feel better.

“Maybe I shouldn’t underestimate you, DK.”

“Maybe you shouldn't,” he winks.

“Can I have your number?”

Your eyes widen. “My husband would actually murder me if he found out I gave someone my number.”

“Stop talking about that dude. Do what you want for once.”

You weigh your options. This will end badly for you if he finds out but it’s not like the outcome would be different from any other night. He punishes you no matter what you do, you might as well have a little fun.

“Ok. but don’t text me after 7pm. That's when he comes home and if he sees me texting someone he’ll flip.”

“Yea, yea i’ll be careful of the evil mean husband.” he smirks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next time you see him is a week later in the mall. He’s at the register with a man, speaking a little too loudly.

“My wallet is too deep in my bag, can you just pay for it?”

The person he’s with looks at him with contempt. “How many times are you going to do this?”

“We’ve been friends for years and you can’t buy me a fucking pretzel?”

He is so ridiculous. You laugh silently at him as they hold up the line causing the people behind them to start complaining. His friend eventually folds and pays. You stand up and walk up to him.

“Quite a show you put on there, DK.”

He turns to you with wide eyes. “Y/N! What are you doing here?” he nervously chuckles eyeing his friend.

“Shopping?”

“Oh that’s nice. C’mon I’ll go with you.” he says and grabs your wrist pulling you along with him.

Well that was weird.

You two walk around the mall for a bit, going in and out of stores, window shopping, buying things you don’t need. He leaves with three new pairs of clown-like shoes, ignoring your teasing.

“I like to think I’m the best jester in the king's court.” he responded with a charming smile making you burst out laughing.

DK is feeling conflicted as he looks at you. This would be much easier if you weren't so cute. You're looking at him like he’s the sun, like he’s a fresh breath of air and with the way that fucker you call your husband treats you, he might just be. This is why he’s not cut out for this killing shit, he feels like he’s already attached to you.

“Do you want to come to my place? We could watch a movie or something?”

“Oh, I don’t know.”

“Whatever you're thinking, forget it. Stop thinking about him. You need to live your life, fuck him if he’s mad.”

It's easy for him to say when he’s not the one dealing with this life.

“What if he finds out?”

“So what? Y/N, you can’t live your whole life in fear.”

You sigh. Even though he’s on a business trip this still isn't a good idea, but you don’t have it in you to say no. “Ok.”

He smiles brightly at you. “We're gonna have a good time.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Wait so let me get this straight. You picked up the plastic bag?” you laugh, the alcohol starting to get to your head. You’re making sure to not drink too much, you don’t need anything going wrong.

“You should've seen the look he was giving me! You would’ve picked it up too.” he exclaims, making you laugh harder.

“I’m just imagining you on your knees looking upset.”

“Y/N, You want me on my knees? Kinky.”

You feel a blush shoot to your face. “Seokmin, stop.” you say, hiding your face.

He pulls your hands from your face. “I never said I was against it.” he says, sliding off the couch and sinking to his knees. Your eyes widen. “What are you doing?”

“I’m granting your wishes,” he says.

“Oh.” you say, suddenly out of breath.

He just smirks, putting his hands on your thighs, making your body stiffen.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“What are you planning to do?”

He leans forward and places a kiss on your neck, then another, and another, making you let out a deep sigh. What the fuck? He kisses up to your ear.

“I’ve wanted to eat that pretty pussy from the moment I saw you. I know he doesn’t treat you the way he should. I’d have you crying out for god, pretty girl.”

You must be losing your mind.

“I can’t even lie, I’ve got off to the thought of you sitting that ass on my face. I want to feel you all over me. I’d make you cum so many times sweetness, it’ll be all about you, I don’t even care about me, I just want you to feel good.”

If he keeps talking like this, the little restraint you have is going to break.

“What do you say?” he groans into your neck. “I want you so bad. Do you want me too?”

You nod. “What else do you want to do?”

He chuckles, kissing down your body until he’s seated on his knees again.

“Fuck around and find out.”

You lean forwards and kiss him, his hands immediately start roaming your body, trying to pull off whatever clothes he can get his hands on. He bites your lip making you groan into the kiss, giving him access to the rest of your mouth. By the time all of your clothes are off the kiss is nothing but tongue and teeth. His hands grope and squeeze your entire body, indenting his hands into your ass. You're grateful the bruises on your rib have healed, because if he saw them it would be a shit show.

He sits on the couch and lays down, pulling your body on top of his without breaking the kiss. You’re sitting on his thighs, grinding yourself onto him, leaving a wet sheen on them. He breaks the kiss and groans into your neck.

“Fuck, sweetness. Grind that pretty pussy on my thigh, use me to make yourself feel good.”

He grabs your hips and pushes you down harder, flexing his thigh so your clit is constantly stimulated. Your moans are getting louder and louder, making him harder. He doesn't think he’s ever been this hard, if he doesn't control himself he’ll cum right on your stomach. You’re incredible, so beautiful, and you’re already doing so good for him.

He can feel you’re clenching around nothing, making your wetness leak out of you more. Without hesitation he pulls you up his body and onto his face. He dives right in making you yelp. His tongue runs through your folds multiple times before going straight for your clit, sucking hard.

“You taste like heaven baby” he groans. “I never thought I’d be jealous of him, but fuck, just the thought that he gets this sweet pussy every night makes me so angry.”

You moan loudly, pulling his hair, making him groan. He takes his anger out on your cunt, wrapping his strong arms around your hips, grinding you onto his tongue. As he fucks you with his tongue his nose bumps your clit repeatedly, throwing you over the edge. He doesn't stop eating you out, ignoring your attempts to pull yourself off.

“Oh my god, DK please I can’t.”

He smiles against you, placing a kiss on your clit and sliding you down his body. You rest your head against his shoulder, trying to catch your breath.

“Baby. We aren’t done, I need to get my full taste of this pussy before I send you back to that fucker.”

He leans forwards and whispers in your ear. “I want him to find my cum leaking out of you.”

Fucking hell, this mouth is going to be the death of you. He lifts you up and bends you over the back of the couch.

“Tell me if it's too much.”

He slides straight in, stretching you out in the most delectable way possible. He gives you some time to adjust but in reality he’s forcing himself to not cum. There’s no way he can kill you, not when you have a tight cunt like this. “Fuck, baby. You feel so good.” he says as he begins to thrust. Gradually picking up his pace. He feels so good inside you, hitting every spot your husband couldn’t. You can’t help but moan and groan with every thrust, the force behind them pushing you further and further into the couch. You feel like you’re floating away, the intense pleasure taking your breath away.

“Tell me. Can he fuck you better than me? Can he reach the places I can? Make you feel like you’re on another planet?”

You can only groan and whimper in response, making him smile victoriously.

“Don’t stress that pretty head on more than you need to ok? Just take this dick and cum for me, baby.”

“Oh my god” you groan. He’s so deep and he’s hitting your spot everytime.

“Say my name instead. Call out for me, I’m the one making you feel this good, right?” he smirks into your neck.

“Seokmin, it feels so good, please don’t stop.”

“Trust me I would never. I want to die in this pussy.”

He pushes down on your shoulders, arching your back more, making him somehow reach deeper.

“Fuckkk” he groans, reaching under you to rub your clit harshly making you jump.

“Cum for me baby, I need it so fucking bad. I want to feel this pussy clench around me.”

You cum harder than ever, squirting all over him and his couch. You don’t have it in you to care, getting lost in the pleasure. DK is doing no better, forcing himself to let you finish before he cums himself. You’re squeezing him so tightly, milking his cock for all he’s worth. He cums with a loud moan, fucking his cum deep into you. “Just like that, take all my cum baby, I want him to see it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’ve been texting DK a lot more than you should. Things have clearly changed after that night and you don’t have it in you to feel guilty. He keeps trying to meet up with you under the guise of a “besties date” but you’re too scared. People don’t normally fuck their besties. What if your husband sees you with him? You risked too much last time. This is so stressful. How did your life end up like this? It feels like one second you had your life together and the next you’re forced to live with him. You stare at your messages with Seokmin.

Deekayy: What do you say? It’s strictly as besties.

You: ok. I’ll meet you there

Deekayy: I knew you would come to your senses.

You can’t lie and say you're not excited. Your one meeting with DK was the most fun you’ve had in years. He makes you feel so bright and alive, his happiness is contagious. You hear the keys in your door turn, jumping. You quickly delete your messages with DK.

“Pumpkin”

Shut the fuck up. “Yes?” you pop your head up over the couch.

“Come here,” he says with a sweet smile. This can't be good. Your mind starts racing; what did you do wrong this time? You slowly walk towards him but stop a few feet away, feeling the anger radiating.

“Y/N. I must be neglecting you. Because there's no reason for you to be going out with other men.”

“What?” you say trying not to cry.

He pulls out his phone and shows you pictures of you and DK. Your breathing picks up, you feel like you’re going to have a panic attack.

“He’s just a friend.”

You hear the slap before you feel it. Fuck that hurt. “Don’t lie to me Y/N.”

“I swear I literally just met him.”

His hand flies to your neck, choking you. “You’re fucking him aren’t you?”

Your eyes widen. “NO! I’m not I promise you I would never cheat on you.” You lie, trying to sound sincere.

“Fucking slut” he growls and throws you on the floor. The hits and kicks come but you barely feel them. Trying your best to zone out, leave your body and escape into your mind. Your mind drifts to DK. After living this same boring life he was a breath of fresh air, sunshine to your constant rainy day. As tears fall from your eyes you manage a smile. You know you’ll never see him again but the feeling he gave you will stay with you forever.

You’re rudely pulled from your mind by a rough shake.

“Y/N. Did you know your little boy toy is trying to kill you? Laughable right? He’s a fucking assassin you dumb bitch. I have people after me, I should've known they’d come for you. I want you to meet with him, tell him you don’t want to see him anymore and that you don’t know where I am.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re my pawn in this game” he smirks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’re sitting at a cafe waiting for Seokmin. You check your makeup every five seconds, worried the bruises will peek through the makeup. You focused especially on your black eye, the concealer starting to crack.

You hear the bell on the door ring and you can feel his aura. He immediately sits across from you with a wide smile, which promptly drops when he sees your disheveled state.

“Are you ok?”

You just nod, too scared to speak knowing you’re being watched.

“Y/N.”

You look up at him and see his face suddenly turned hard.

“What happened?”

“DK, I know you’re trying to kill me.”

He looks even more upset. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You feel the tears start to flow, rough wiping your eyes. “DK, we shouldn’t see eachother again.”

He gently grabs your chin. Fuck. The concealer on your hand tells you all you need to know. “He did this?” he asks, sounding very upset.

“He didn’t like that I was talking to you.”

He looks to the ceiling and takes a deep breath. “I want you to come stay with me.”

“So you can kill me?”

“Y/N, if i wanted to kill you, you would already be dead.” he grits, getting frustrated only making you cry more.

“Love, don’t cry. I’m sorry for yelling at you. I just want you away from that man. I’ll make sure he will never hurt you again.”

“DK, what are you involved in?” you say hesitantly.

“I don’t want you to know.” he sighs.

“Please.”

He’s obviously debating whether he should tell you or not. “I’m involved in some shady shit. I know what your husband does for a living. A lot of people want him dead.”

“So why were you trying to kill me?”

“Because it would hurt him more.” he says as he grabs your hands. “Y/N, I would never hurt you, Ok. I swear on everything, I will do nothing but cherish you for the rest of your life. I know we met a few weeks ago, but I know I love you. You’re all I think about, all I see, I can’t imagine a future without you.”

You believe him. Even if it's foolish, nothing is worse than what you’re going through now.

You know your husband is nearby watching but you can’t live like this anymore. “Ok, but I can’t go now.”

“Why.”

“He’s waiting for me outside.”

Dk sighs. “Ok. Go with him, I’ll come get you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You're laying in bed when you hear your front door creek open. You couldn’t sleep knowing he was coming to save you. Your back is turned to the bedroom door when he walks in, but you’re confused when you hear multiple sets of footsteps and voices. You sit up to see DK in a tight black t-shirt and cargo pants. You admit he looks very handsome. There's two more guys with him, one with bright red hair and the other who's a literal giant. “Y/N let's go.” the red haired one whispers coming close to you. The whispering proves useless when DK lands a hard punch to your husband's face waking him up. He shoots up confused just for another punch to land on his jaw.

“You like to beat women?” DK spits.

“What are you doing here?”

Instead of answering, DK punches him again, and again.

“Just take her! Isn’t that what you wanted?” your husband whimpers.

That pisses the giant off and he literally pulls your husband out of bed by his shirt and throws him to the floor, landing a heavy kick to his side making him empty his stomach. “You’re disgusting.”

“Let's get you out of here.” the red haired man says but you refuse.

“No. I want to watch” you say, making his eyes widen.

DK turns to you. “Love, you shouldn’t see this.”

“Love? I knew you were fucking him you slut.” your husband spits from the floor.

DK looks down at the man in contempt. “You shut the fuck up.” he says, punctuating his sentence with a kick to his jaw, most likely breaking it.

“Well, now you can’t speak,” DK smiles.

“Seokmin, please. I need to”

He walks over to you, cupping your face. “I don’t want you to look at me differently.”

“Right now I’m looking at you like my savior.” you smile.

“You’re gonna make me blush” he giggles making you roll your eyes.

“Can we end the romance and deal with this fucker.” the giant says.

Dk walks towards him and pulls out a gun from his holster.

“You really don’t know the gem you had when you had it. But don’t worry I’ll make her real happy.”

Your husband can only slit his eyes, unable to respond. He spits on DK’s face, smiling victoriously. The same look you saw when DK saw the bruises is the same look he gives your husband. He cocks his gun and shoots him straight in the balls.

“I’ve always wanted to do that.” he giggles

Your husband begins screaming for help, tears flowing down his face. Dk shoots him again in the foot, only laughing more.

“This hurts right? Imagine how much it hurts everytime you put your hands on her? I want you to suffer.”

The giant stomps on his foot making his scream more.

“We gotta go, the cops are coming.”

DK points his gun at your husband's head.

“Wait” you jump up. “I want to do it.”

His eyes widened. “Alright.”

You get up a bit too excitedly making everyone turn to you. You take the gun from his hand and lean down towards your husband.

“I hope you burn in hell and you were right, I am fucking him. I’m shocked you never noticed his cum spilling out of me everytime I would come home to you. ” You spit, exaggerating just to piss him off. This somehow gives him a burst of energy, he grabs you by the neck.

“You’ll never escape me.”

“Oh, I think I will.” you smile and push him away from you and shoot him between the eyes watching his body slump to the floor.

“That was really hot.” the red-haired man says.

“Minghao, fuck off.”

#seventeen smut #svt smut #seokmin smut #dk smut #lee seokmin smut #dk x reader #im going insane

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delicateflowerss · 1 year

Text

Scary Love (Tyler Galpin x Reader)

Tyler Galpin is a nice guy, always remembering your coffee order, and making sure to ask how your day is. So, when he asks you out, you don't have a reason to say no. Right?

Warnings: 18+, DUB-CON, slight violence, mentions of murder, blood, manipulation, obsession, pain kink, blood kink, dacryphilia

Word Count: 4.5k

Another person dead.

A bear attack, or that’s what they’re calling it.

It’s hard to fathom a bear did that, tore that man from limb to limb. But you’re not one to look under your bed for monsters before you go to sleep.

So, if the police are saying a bear did it, you have no reason to doubt them.

Even if it leaves a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach.

At least no one else is that worried, the people of Jericho going about their everyday lives like people aren’t being slaughtered in the woods.

You tuck your hands in the pockets of your jacket, shielding them from the cold weather.

You set your eyes on the building in front of you, stepping into much warmer air. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills your nose, and a slight smile forms on your lips.

The Weathervane is your sacred place. Any worries instantly leave your mind when you walk through those doors. You can just sit in your favorite booth, sip on something hot, and not have to think about anything that is bothering you outside these walls.

“The usual?”

You’re met with a familiar voice. The same pair of bright eyes peeking under brown curls that you see almost every day.

“Yeah. Thanks, Tyler.”

You flash him an appreciative smile as he starts making your latte.

You can’t say you know Tyler Galpin that well. You went to school with him, always knew of him, but never really ran in the same circles. It wasn’t until he started working at the Weathervane that you two really spoke, usually just small talk. But it didn’t take long for him to start remembering your order.

“What are you up to today?” He asks as he sets down your cup on the counter.

A small sigh leaves your lips. “I wish I could hang around here today, but my mom really wants me to run some errands for her.”

“Bummer,” he says, laced with sarcasm. A smile traces his lips.

“I guess my life could be worse.” The smile on your face says you’re joking, but your voice is sucked dry of any humor.

He doesn’t seem to notice, and if he does, he pretends not to. You hand him the money for the drink, fingers brushing against his.

You don’t think too much of it, grabbing your cup. “Thanks again, Tyler.”

“See you later, Y/N,” he calls after you. You’re already walking out the door.

Cluelessly, you walk across the street, not noticing how he watches you through the window.

There’s an uneasiness that has settled over the town, even if no one wants to acknowledge it. Whispers are starting, quiet gossip wondering if it’s really a bear that’s responsible for these attacks. People want to point fingers, blaming Nevermore, the school for Outcasts that lies on the outskirts of town.

You’re not sure what to think, grouping yourself with the people who don’t want to speak or think about it at all.

So, you keep your eyes on the pages in front of you. The sun has gone down, the red neon sign in the window now illuminating the words you’ve been reading all afternoon.

You don’t realize how late it is, or how you’re the only person left at the Weathervane. Besides Tyler.

You don’t know it until a mug being set down in front of you makes your head snap up.

“Thought you might need a refill.” Tyler looks down at you and the empty cup on the table. “I made it decaf,” he adds.

Your hand inches towards your wallet.

“Don’t worry, it’s on the house,” he assures as he sits in the booth across from you.

You move your hand away, relaxing. “Giving me freebies now?” An amused smile on your lips. “Thanks.”

“Don’t get used to it.” The tone in his voice matching yours.

Your smile doesn’t leave your face even as you sip your latte.

“Is it good?” He asks, motioning in your direction.

“The coffee or the book?”

“The book.” Before you can respond, he continues, “I mean it must be, you haven’t been able to stop reading it since you got here.”

You laugh but end up narrowing your eyes at him. “Does that mean you’ve been watching me?” Humor still seeps into your words.

He blinks, sighing, almost taken aback.

“I guess you caught me.” He straightens back up, his eyes on you as a smirk slowly spreads across his face. “But how could I not?”

Now it’s your turn to be taken aback. Any hints of a joke, gone. Your smile falls a little, realization creeping in.

He notices, concern creasing his face. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No!” You’re quick to remedy the situation. “It just… caught me off guard,” you finish.

“That I like you?”

You don’t expect him to be so forward with you.

“We just don’t know each other that well.”

“That’s true,” he says, furrowing his brow like he’s deep in thought about something.

A few moments pass before he says anything else. “We could fix that.” He searches your face for any sign of hesitance. “You could go to the Harvest Festival with me tomorrow night?”

You inhale, looking over his face, finding how hopeful he is. There’s nothing wrong with Tyler. There’s no reason for you not to go out with him. He’s attractive, nice, and now gives you free coffee. You’re just surprised that he likes you.

“Okay.”

You see him relax, like he just let out the breath he was holding. A grin is back on his face.

“Great. Pick you up at eight.”

You smooth out the wrinkles in your shirt, pulling a jacket over it. You’ve been thinking about your date with Tyler all day, nervously waiting for it. You check the time, noting that he’ll be here any minute.

You head downstairs, finding your mom on the couch, watching some stupid reality TV show.

“I didn’t know you were going out.” Her voice rings out over the TV.

“I thought I told you I was going to the Harvest Festival.”

She turns down the volume, her attention more focused on you now.

“You’re going alone? Are you sure that’s a good idea? With everything that’s been happening-.”

“I’m not going alone,” you cut off her rambling. You continue at the sign of confusion on her face, “I’m going with Tyler, he’ll be here soon.”

“The sheriff’s son?”

You nod yes.

You can see her visibly relax. The worry being replaced with joy.

“Oh, that’s great, honey.”

The doorbell ringing saves you from anymore explanations.

“That’s him. Bye mom!” You call out, opening the door to your date.

“Have fun!” You hear before shutting the door, stepping outside to greet Tyler.

You don’t think you’re ready for any awkward introductions just yet.

The air around you is buzzing with excitement. People around you jump from ride to ride, from food stands to carnival games.

You didn’t expect Tyler to be such a gentleman. Out of all the dates you’ve been on, you’ve never had a guy open the car door for you, but Tyler did.

Once you two got to the festival, you’ve been on almost every ride. He made sure to buy you cotton candy, which you offered to pay for, but he insisted.

You two ended up playing some game where you try to pop balloons with a dart. Tyler was determined to win you a stuffed animal. After a few tries, he finally did. Or maybe the guy working the game just felt bad for him. You’re not exactly sure.

You cradle the teddy bear in your arms as you wait in line for the Ferris wheel. It’s been nice to get to know him more and for him to know more about you than just your coffee order.

Your eyes roam over him as he looks off into the trees ahead, where the festival stops, and the woods start. You wonder what he’s thinking about.

He must feel the weight of your stare because he catches your eye, face brightening. Your cheeks get warm at getting caught.

“Next!” The man working the ride, yells out.

You sit close to him as the ride starts to move, your thigh touching his. You try to ignore how warm he feels next to you.

“This has been really fun. Thanks for taking me,” you say, trying to slice through the silence.

“Yeah. Thanks for coming with me.” He has that boyish smile again. “I was worried you were going to say no.”

You shrug, a little unsure of how to respond. “I’m glad I didn’t.” You tighten your hold on your teddy bear. “No guy has ever won me a stuffed animal before,” you laugh.

“It took a while, but I got it eventually,” he says, chuckling.

“I’ll cherish it forever.”

His green eyes soften at your words. He looks at you like he’s trying to memorize you, like you’re the only thing of importance, not bothering with anything that’s happening around you.

Something flutters in your stomach as you feel almost embarrassed to hold his gaze. The moonlight shines off his curls and you can feel him lean into you.

Your eyelids flutter as his lips ghost over yours. His fingers find the back of your neck, and his lips finally capture yours. You match his movements, his thumb reaching up to your cheek to slightly caress it.

The kiss starts slow and gentle. But his fingertips press harder into your skin as he deepens it, licking inside your mouth.

It surprises you a little, the kiss beginning to feel hungry.

Teeth sinking into your bottom lip knocks you of your daze. You pull back from Tyler, your finger wiping the part of your lip that hurts, only to look down and see a bit of blood.

You don’t notice how he already licked away the taste of your blood on his own lip.

“Sorry, Y/N. It was an accident.”

You hear him apologizing, sincerity in his voice, but you catch a glint in his eye.

You decide to brush it off. He was just caught in the moment.

You reach over to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “It’s okay.” Your smile causing the guilt to leave his face.

A loud boom moves your attention to the night sky, colors dancing on the black canvas. His hand reaches for yours, squeezing it as you both watch the fireworks.

Tyler lied.

Ever since your date with him, you’ve gone to the Weathervane every day. He’s made it a habit to give you your coffee for free, pretending he never said he wouldn’t.

You and Tyler have wordlessly decided to take things slow. There’s hasn’t been any real conversation about it, but you can tell that he respects your boundaries.

When you went over to his house for a movie night while his dad was at work, Tyler didn’t try anything. The closest he got to you was him wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

It’s not like you don’t want him, but you feel like you moved too fast with your other relationships, and they didn’t turn out so great. So, you want to prevent anything souring between you two. Tyler’s a good guy, something that’s pretty rare to find.

You mostly enjoy talking to Tyler when the Weathervane empties. The only people there are you two, occupying a booth and feeling like you are the only ones that matter.

He’s told you all of the stuff you wouldn’t tell someone on a first date, like that he goes to therapy, and how he wishes his dad talked to him more, or more about one thing in specific.

The death of his mom weighs heavy on him. You can tell it’s a touchy subject for him. He stops himself from talking too much about her, an emotion passing through his eyes that you can’t name.

The only thing you can do is tell him you’re there to listen when he’s ready to talk about it, comforting him with a squeeze of your hand.

Whatever darkness that rolled over him, is now gone, returning to the Tyler you know and see every day.

You’ve wanted to ignore it, pretend that everything is fine in Jericho, believe that the police had everything under control.

But when another person is killed, it’s hard to ignore the danger that surrounds the town.

“Everything okay?” A deep voice takes you out of your thoughts. “You’re letting your coffee get cold.” You look down at your untouched drink.

“Just thinking.” You don’t hide the uncertainty in your voice.

Tyler doesn’t hesitate to sit down across from you, his elbows resting on the table.

“About?” He asks.

You shift, trying to figure out how you’re going to articulate your thoughts to him.

“It’s sad.” You look up, meeting his eyes. “The people dying,” you explain.

He waits for you to continue.

“I guess I’m just scared. I haven’t really wanted to think about it… but now I am.”

He considers your words, sympathy written on his face.

“It is… scary.” He pauses. “But it is only happening in the woods. Since it’s a bear-.”

“Some people are saying it’s a monster or something,” you interrupt him.

“Do you believe that?”

“I don’t know. That’s just what people are saying,” you say defensively. “I mean you should know.”

His eyes narrow, confusion on his face, and before he can say anything, you clarify.

“Your dad. Hasn’t he told you anything?”

“I told you. My dad tells me nothing.”

You lean back in the booth, sighing.

“I don’t like being in the dark either, but you’ll be okay.” You feel his thumb rub circles on the back of your hand. “Just stay away from the woods.”

Tyler’s warning echoes in your head as you drive down the empty road. Tall trees surround you, the headlights on your car illuminating the darkness in front of you.

You silently curse at your mom for making you go to the next town over, just because the store in Jericho was out of something she so desperately needed.

It was daytime when you left, hoping you’d be back before it got dark. But dread filled you as you watched the sun sink past the horizon.

What’s worse, is your car had trouble starting before you began your drive home. The grinding noise making you cringe. It finally worked and now all you can do is clutch your steering wheel and hope for the best.

You’ll be home soon, the outskirts of town starting to look familiar to you.

But is familiarity comforting in this case, or the opposite?

You keep your eyes on the road, but your brows furrow when your music turns off. Your headlights next. Finally, your car stopping in the middle of the road.

You step on the gas, nothing happening. You try turning your car on again. Still nothing.

“Shit,” you mutter.

Your worst fear has happened. Now you can only hear the sound of your breathing as you look around in the darkness.

You turn your phone on, the screen lighting up the car. Before you can call your mom, you find the sealing of your fate in the corner of your phone screen. “No Service”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You throw your phone down onto the seat next to you, your jaw clenching.

You consider your options, either stay in your car and risk freezing to death or try to walk back to town and risk getting brutally murdered.

You know there’s something lurking in these woods but freezing to death feels more likely right now.

You make sure to grab your phone before stepping into the chilly, night air. You wrap your arms around yourself as you look around, beginning your trek to town.

You stay on the side of the road, the rustling of the trees in the wind makes you feel uneasy. You don’t see any sign of anyone or anything.

You used to not believe in scary stories. You never had a problem with any of the Outcasts you met, never thinking of them as “monsters.”

But now you’re not sure. You feel like you have to keep looking over your shoulder. Now you think any of those stories you heard as a kid could be true.

A loud scream stops you in your tracks, your blood turning to ice.

You look in the direction of where you think the scream came from, only seeing the rough outlines of the trees.

You check your phone again, grimacing at the fact you still don’t have service.

You want to run away as fast as you can, but guilt washes over you, unsure if you should leave someone to die with no one around to help.

Taking a deep breath, you step further into the trees. Out of all the dumb decisions you’ve made, this will probably be your dumbest, or your last.

But you can’t help but put yourself in that situation. You would want someone to come to your aid.

You try to keep your footsteps quiet, but they crunch down on the fallen leaves. You wince at the noise.

You try to find where the scream could have come from, but you don’t see anyone.

Until you hear something coming toward you, something loud and big. You stop and listen, eyes widening when you see the silhouette of something you could only see in your nightmares.

Before it gets too close, you hide behind the tree closest to you. You try to steady your harsh breathing, but as you hear it start to go past the other side of the tree, a loud breath escapes you.

You slam your hand against your lips, trying to quiet yourself. But it’s too late, the monster stops, almost like it’s anticipating your next mistake.

You squeeze your eyes shut, waiting for this moment to pass. Hoping that it won’t hear you and leave.

After what feels like an eternity, you hear it continue its path, away from you. When you know it’s gone, you put your hand down, almost sighing with relief. You gather yourself, processing your brush with death, and look at your surroundings.

You must’ve gotten turned around because now you can’t remember which way goes back to the road. You also have no idea where that scream came from. But after what you just saw, you can only think the worst.

You pick a path that you think will take you closer to Jericho and is away from the monster. You’re on high alert, eyes moving all around you. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to sleep again.

You slow down when you see a figure ahead of you. It’s a person, which automatically makes you feel better.

As you get closer, you make out the familiar face.

“Tyler?”

Your eyes rake over him, taking in the fact he’s only wearing a tattered T-shirt and pants that are unbuttoned, hanging low on his hips.

The blood is what makes your jaw drop. It’s all over him, like he got into a fight, or… was attacked.

You don’t hesitate to step up to him, taking a closer look.

“Tyler, are you okay? Did the monster-.”

You stop yourself, your arms falling to your sides. You instinctively step back, realizing he has no wounds for the blood to be coming from.

You finally look into his eyes, and you feel like you’re looking at a stranger. He doesn’t look at you with the affection he usually has, that gentle emotion, like you’re something that could slip away from him so easily.

Now all you see is darkness and hunger, like he could devour you. Instead of keeping his distance so he won’t lose you, he’ll take you anyway, holding you tight so you have no choice but to stay.

You swallow, your throat starting to feel tight, your eyes getting glassy.

You don’t understand exactly what’s going on, if he’s the monster or not. All you know is he’s scaring you and you need to get away from him.

He calls out your name just as you turn around, running away.

The adrenaline pumping through your veins forces you to move faster. You can hear his footsteps behind you.

But your adrenaline only takes you so far. You don’t realize how close he is to you when you slow down a bit.

All of a sudden, you feel your arm being tugged back. He uses the leverage to wrap his arms around you, his body pressed against yours.

You try to struggle out of his hold, but his arms are strong. He presses his lips to your ear, his breathing unsteady.

“Caught you,” he rasps.

That’s enough for a sob to erupt from you, pleading with him. “Let me go, Tyler.”

You think he listens to you, loosening his arms. But his hand goes to your waist instead, turning you around to face him.

He keeps his hand on you, his grip firm enough to remind you that it’s there but not tight enough to hurt.

You look up at him, the moonlight shining through the trees casts shadows on to his face, making him look sinister. You can’t see all of him, even if you tried, part of his face always in the dark.

You try to blink away the tears, but they run down your face. You’re nervous to say anything to him, but you’re scared. You want to know what he’s going to do to you.

“Are you going to hurt me?” Your voice cracks around the question, almost regretting the words once they’re out of your mouth.

He doesn’t react the way you feared he would.

Instead, he just furrows his brow and brings his finger to your cheek. You flinch a little at the sudden touch. But as he delicately wipes your tear away, you end up leaning into his caress.

He reaches down to your other cheek, his lips meeting your skin instead. A ragged sigh leaves your lips as he tastes your tears. Licking away your fear, despair, and heartbreak all at once.

He moves his lips to yours, the kiss almost painful. But you don’t stop him, letting him take the breath right out of you.

He pulls away, warm breath fanning over you as he whispers, “Only if you want me to.”

His lips are on you again, and he pushes you until your back hits one of the trees.

You’re sure your mind isn’t in the right place because somehow your fear has turned into desire. Or maybe the fear hasn’t left, instead fueling this fire in the pit of your stomach.

His teeth nip at the sensitive skin of your neck, and you can’t stop the whimpers that come from your throat. He soothes the stinging with his tongue while he peels back the layers of your clothes.

Goosebumps prick at your skin, but the freezing air doesn’t bother you, feeling so warm from everything he’s doing to you.

He keeps his rough hands on you, grabbing at your bare skin. He acts like a man starved, and you never thought Tyler had this side to him. But it’s obvious you knew way less about him than you thought.

You stand completely naked in front of him, and you don’t miss the way he drags his eyes over your body.

He moves his hand lower, fingers slipping inside of you. He rubs your bundle of nerves with his thumb, pushing his fingers deeper as your arousal coats your inner thighs. He could come right then and there from the sweet moans you’re making.

He doesn’t want to tell you how all he could think about was you, after a kill. He wished he could call you in the middle of the night or sneak in through your bedroom window. All he wanted was to bend you over and fuck you until your throat hurt from screaming his name.

But now he doesn’t have to chase you anymore, he’s finally caught you.

He takes his hand away from you, taking off his shirt, revealing his toned chest. You watch him, drinking in every detail of him.

He steps closer to you, pinning you against the tree. The cold touch of his hand on your waist makes your lips part as he turns you around.

You hear him pull down his pants and a shiver runs through you, waiting for him to finally be inside you, the ache in you getting worse.

The palm of your hand uses the tree for support as his large hands grab your hips. The tip of his cock pokes at you before he slowly thrusts inside you.

You gasp at the feeling, your walls stretching around him. His lips graze your ear, and you can hear the groans that fall from him as he starts to set a pace.

“Tyler,” you whine out.

One of his hands moves to your breast, cupping it, fingers playing with your already hardened nipple. The hand that stays on your hip, grips it harshly, and you know you’ll have finger shaped bruises in the morning.

“You feel so good.” His voice is low in your ear. He continues to rut into you, focusing on how tight and wet you are around him.

This is way better than stroking himself to the thought of you.

More moans leave you as your fingers claw the bark of the tree. You don’t think you’ve ever felt this good in your life.

His thrusts have become brutal and merciless, and all you can think about is the feeling of him inside you, how full you feel, and how he continues to hit a spot that has you seeing stars.

You feel him cover your hand with his, fingers intertwining. His breath is hot as his lips are on yours again, your head turning to meet his. The kiss is sloppy, but he swallows each and every one of your moans.

Your eyelids flutter at the way he pounds into you, and he moves his lips away from you.

You can feel yourself getting closer to your release.

“Tell me you’re mine.”

His breathing is shallow, and his pace is getting sloppier.

When you don’t answer right away, his fingers move to your throat, not squeezing but the hold rough enough to make your breathing ragged.

He repeats himself, this time, with a little more aggression.

“I’m yours. I’m yours,” you say over and over again, feeling the waves of pleasure wash over you, clenching around his cock.

He comes at the same time you do, his mouth on your shoulder, teeth sinking in. But you don’t pay any mind to the pain, just feeling pleasure.

When he’s done fucking you through your releases, he pulls out, his cum spilling out of you.

You take a moment to gather yourself, before turning around to face him. Both of you coming down from your highs.

“I knew it was you who was hiding behind that tree.” His voice startles you. “I can smell people’s fear.”

Your jaw goes slack as you take in what he’s saying.

“I can taste it.” He brings his fingers to your inner thigh.

“I’ve tasted yours…” He begins to push the stickiness on your thighs back inside you.

“…and yours was the most delicious of them all.”

#tyler galpin #tyler galpin x reader #wednesday #tyler galpin x you #tyler galpin fanfic

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no-m4gic · 1 year

Note

Hiya friend i saw u and knew I had to request heh

So I was thinking byakuya/nagito/shuichi characters w a reader who cries when frustrated/yelled at/someone angry at them :}

Lots of love also don't forget to eat and drink

mmm i'm here to pleasure the simps i'm here to pleasure the simps i'm here to pleasure the simps.

lmk if you ever want yandere byakuya, plasma /j

i had fun writing this lel, thanks for requesting! i relate to this a lot lmao

~ mod sitaya

BYAKUYA, NAGITO & SHUICHI W/ A GN FRAGILE S/O

BYAKUYA TOGAMI

"uugh. stop crying already, get up, the floor's dirty."

despite byakuya not being a patient guy, he isn't a loud one either. however that doesn't mean he won't get mad and snap at you.

he isn't a heartless monster though, if you'd just been scolded by perhaps kirigiri or ishimaru, he'd offer you his handkerchief, but i doubt he'll accept it back.

"i don't want anything that is stained with plebian tears."

isn't really the type who'd hug or like hugs, but if you do initiate a hug, he'll just awkwardly and silently hug back.

god forbid you stain his rich people clothes though.

don't worry about him being mad at you, you're one of the only people who doesn't piss him off to the core, so it's rare for him to be mad or upset with you, most of the time it's just him being annoyed and making snarky remarks.

if it was somebody who had made you mad, frustrated or upset, expect a handwritten apology letter from them.

when you ask togami about it, he'd act all innocent and clueless.

"i don't know what you're talking about s/o, i'd never do something like that for such a plebian."

NAGITO KOMAEDA

"oh atua- s/o- what happened? was it me? i'm sorry... i'll leave if you want..."

at first he'd think he was the problem and feel like absolute shit.

eventually tho, he'll find out that it isn't him, which was good on his part.

he'd ask you what happened and who made you upset.

after you're done rambling, you'll find yourself in his arms, him probably squeezing you tighter than you were squeezing him.

my guy doesn't want to lose you.

while hugging you and rubbing your back, he assumes that this happened because of his luck. he'd also be secretly plotting something against whoever yelled at you. it would definitely be something way less sinister than whatever was happening in his head, something like him acting all creepy around them.

if you're still upset, he'd bring you on a shopping spree, since you know like... he won the lottery.

if you run into someone like izuru or byakuya, you two would definitely have fun annoying them.

SHUICHI SAIHARA

"oh no- s/o, i'm sorry that happened... but what should i do? should i start crying too?"

if it'd make you feel better, shuichi would offer to cry with you and hold you.

he'd quickly run off to fetch you a glass of water

after that he'd listen to whatever you had to say, all the while enjoying your soothing voice.

if you like sulking in the dark, he'll lend you his emo hat and walk you back to your room, telling people who got in the way and were making the situation worse to fuck off.

if it's raining and you guys are outside, he'll walk in the rain and lend you his umbrella.

you'd probably have to care for him after he gets a bad fever

after dealing with you, the next person he'll have to deal with would be your attacker.

he wouldn't attack them komaeda or blackmail them like togami, he'd just walk up to them and be like "hey, could you be more careful around s/o next time? their ego is really weak. thanks."

or he'd get kaede to tell them if he decides to stay with you.

#danganronpa x reader #danganronpa #dr x reader #dr #byakuya togami x reader #byakuya x reader #togami x reader #nagito x reader #nagito komaeda x reader #komaeda x reader #shuichi x reader #saihara x reader #shuichi saihara x reader

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yourfavoritewitchbitch · 12 days

Text

King of Hearts

Chapter 1 - Long Live the King!

A Mafia!Steve Harrington AU (featuring Mafia!Eddie Munson)

Chapter Summary: The Mafia world is on edge when Steve Harrington comes back to town to take over for his father. His presence sets off a whirlwind of emotions that you'd thought you'd buried long ago.

18+ Only! Minors DNI! (Future smut and mature themes!)

CW: Slow burn. Exes to lovers. Minimal use of Y/N. Reader is referred to as "Dove." Angst. Pining. Reader is married to an abusive asshole (this will get worse as the story progresses). Reader is assaulted. Talk of death. Funeral. Drug use/abuse.

WC: 6.1K

You crept through the foyer, hoping the small sound of the door closing wouldn’t rouse anyone in the large house.

Removing your heels from your stocking clad feet, so that you could silently move through the room and quickly check your surroundings, pausing, listening. You were met with nothing but the sound of your heartbeat reverberating in your chest.

You thought you were in the clear, but your false sense of security was quickly shattered, rounding the corner only to be met with your husband’s steely glare. A cigarette and stiff drink in hand. He was home early.

Nikolai was a large, intimidating man with broad shoulders, sandy blonde hair and piercing blue eyes that threatened to set anyone aflame that came near.

He was sitting in front of the large fireplace in the study. When you caught his gaze, he bid you to come forward as he set the drink down. Brining the cigarette to his lips, taking a long inhale before resting it alongside his drink.

Dressed in his usual suit, his jacket left on the chair behind him, leaving him in a white button up with the sleeves rolled up on his forearms revealing an expanse of black ink beneath.

You shuffled forward slowly, crossing your arms behind your back with your heels still dangling from your fingertips.

“Tough day, my love?” he cooed, in a sickly-sweet voice that would almost sound sincere to anyone else. His lips turned up into a cruel smirk as he turned to look at you.

You hated it when he called you that. There was only one man that said it and ever truly meant it.

“You know exactly how my day has been.” You hissed, already over his little games.

“Now kitten, a little birdie told me you were seen with him. Though, it doesn't come as a surprise.” Calm tone, but you knew that was about to change. The literal calm before the storm.

“Nik,” you started, his palm met your cheek with a sharp smack that echoed in the otherwise quiet space, along with the thud of your heels that fell from your grasp. Your eye instantly welled, unable to control the tears forming from the force of his blow. Pain instantly searing the skin.

You could taste the familiar metallic tang in your mouth, as you reached up trying to soothe the discomfort. Yet another bruise to hide in the morning.

Ever defiant, you raise your head slowly, to meet his cold, indifferent gaze.

He gripped your chin, forcing your face closer to his.

“Now, kitten,” no feeling whatsoever behind those words.

“This kind of behavior just won’t do for my reputation. I can't let you go whoring around with him out in public, making me look like a fool in the process.”

He removed his hand slightly, only to cup your cheek engulfing it with his large palm. It was tender, a stark contrast to the pain he had just inflicted. Raised welts beginning to form under his touch.

Playing this same game a dozen times over, you know how it ends. One moment an enraged monster, the next a doting husband.

He pushed your face a little harshly, putting some distance between you to take his leave.

“Clean yourself up and get ready for dinner. Your father will be joining us.” He leaned down, pressing his lips to yours, catching the back of your head pressing you closer to his larger frame. You made no attempt to push him away, knowing it would only spur his anger.

He released you, grabbing his jacket and turning back one last time before he spoke.

“And kitten, end it. Or I will.”

Your father, the head of the crime ring. Your husband, a marriage for alliance. You, an heiress to the proverbial throne.

You didn’t want any of it. Caught in the middle and destined to forever be separated from the man you loved.

You thought you were being careful. You both should have known better.

8 Weeks Earlier

The gallery you managed downtown was your escape from all things family or business related. Here you could be your own person, not feeling bound by duty or marriage. It was your grandmother that instilled a love of art within you at a very young age taking you to art exhibits or museums around the city. You fell in love with the beauty and feeling of it all.

A new piece had just been delivered that you were examining, thoroughly ignoring your surroundings as usual, much too focused on the matter at hand.

You hadn’t heard him enter, as he came to stand directly behind you, pressed in much too close.

Tiny glasses perched toward the end of your nose; he watched the way you were so intently focused on nothing else in the world carefully focusing, stopping only to write small notes on the clipboard in your grasp.

“Little Dove,” clearing his throat slightly, startling you a bit.

You whirled around, only to be met with golden caramel mossy framed eyes staring back at you. The nickname uttered from his lips like soft silk.

“Steve?” you asked, almost breathless. You thought it would be a cold day in hell before you saw him again.

“In the flesh.” He grinned softly, holding his arms out as if showing himself off. Dressed in a navy-blue pinstripe suit and gray turtleneck that you were sure came straight from Italy just as he had.

“What… What are you doing here?” your tone more whispered as you looked around to make sure no one was watching.

“It’s ok, I made sure to slip past them. Your tails… uh… aren’t that great.” He whispered back in a mocking tone, chuckling lightly.

“You look…” you studied the man before you. “You look different, good.”

The last time you had seen Steve he still had his boyish features, but a man stood before you now. Rugged, but clean cut, sporting shorter, more tamed hair with slight stubble lining his jaw. He was even more handsome than you remembered. Italy seemed to be treating him well.

There was an air about him that commanded attention. When he entered a crowded room, he knew everyone would fall in line. A far cry from that party boy years ago. A boy that only ever had eyes for one girl, the woman stood before him now.

“Tesoro, leave it to you to find a job surrounded by beauty but you are the most beautiful piece here.” He smiled that crooked grin that always made you melt, his words syrupy sweet, cheeks heating at the praise.

You clutched the clipboard in your hands closer to your chest, face casting downward as an attempt to hide the blush that crept across your face.

You'd been told you were beautiful by countless men your entire life but when it came from the one man that mattered you turned into a shy mess.

His attention suddenly made it feel like all those years ago, hiding away in a dark corner as he spoke sweet nothings into your ear. Trailing kisses down your neck. Telling you the endless things he'd do for you, or to you.

Two young lovers hidden away from the world with nothing but dreams in their heads and stars in their eyes. Still naive to how cruel and unfair the world could truly be.

Eight years since you've seen him and yet staring at him before you it's as if not a single day has passed. It would be so easy to pick up where you left off, if only…

You snapped out of it, suddenly realizing the only reason he'd be back, shifting your gaze back to him.

“I'm sorry to hear about your father.” His smile fading as he nodded. “I know you two never saw eye to eye, but…”

“It’s okay Dove.” He slid his hands into the pockets of his trousers, eyes casting downward. “It was only a matter of time. He'd been hiding the cancer diagnosis for months now.”

So, it wasn't a rival family or hired hitman that took him out. It was cancer. Everyone had been wondering when the news had come.

“I was still sorry to hear it, Steve.” You hesitantly reached out and rested your hand on his arm, squeezing lightly. “How's Pip holding up?”

Steve's younger sister, never seeing the cruel side of Richard Harrington the way he had. Pip was his Princess and she never let anyone forget that. She went to live with her mother when she was very young, only seeing Richard on holidays and birthdays. It was only natural she was devastated from his death.

“About as well as you'd expect. She uh…” pausing to scratch at his brow. A habit he always had when he was trying to find his words. “She's not doing well. I'm not sure how she's going to get through it tomorrow. I’m sending her back to live with mamma. I think it'll do her some good to get out of the city for a while.”

You didn't pry, knowing Pip was a little reckless and wild. She always gave Steve a run for his money when they were younger. Seems things hadn't changed much for her.

“I'm surprised she's listening to you.” You laughed out.

“I'm not giving her a choice.” You nodded in understanding. Steve was already taking his new role as head of the family very seriously, but you'd expect nothing less.

He was born to one day take over for his father, trained and taught all the ins and outs of this life from a very young age. He would, no doubt in your mind, lead the entire city one day, especially hearing the rumors from across the sea about how ruthless he could be, but you couldn't quite imagine the Steve you once knew to be anything but the kind, caring gentleman before you.

In this world, those kinds of assumptions are what get you killed, and you knew full well Steve had changed. You were unsure of just how much.

As comfortable silence fell between you, he allowed himself to let his eyes linger over you once more. Your back stiffened as you looked from the entrance back to him, shattering this moment of peace as reality settled back in.

“Well, Mr. Harrington it's been nice seeing you, but I must get back to work before those two idiots do their walk through to check up on me.”

“Ms. Alexander.” He smiled, nodding his goodbye.

“It's Mrs. Alexander-Petrov, but you know that.” He did know, but his jaw tightened when he heard it spoken aloud. To imagine you and Nikolai Petrov together made his blood boil.

Little Niki had been a vile womanizer. He and Steve knew each other from boyhood and their father’s dealings. He just hoped he was good to you and worships you the way he himself wishes he could.

“Right. Apologies Mrs. Alexander-Petrov. I'll see myself out. Take care, Tesoro.”

“Tell Eddie I said hi.” You called after him.

“Of course, Dove.” Stopping to look at you one last time.

You watched him exit out the back, through the alleyway.

There was still something there. That spark you couldn't deny. Maybe it was just you looking for closure but deep down you knew it would never truly be over between you. He

was your first love, always hoping he would have been your last.

It was a somber affair with a huge turnout. The Church was packed full of mournful guests.

For a funeral, it was still lavish. Old world money mixed with new. Women flaunting their Gucci or Louis Vuitton came second nature. Men with their expensive suits and gold watches. Any excuse to flaunt the wealth they had accumulated.

Family and business associates mingled, sewing together their tales and fond memories of the late Richard Harrington.

If you looked closely at the crowd, you could spot a few enemies mixed within, come to see the bastard exactly where they'd wished him to be.

As is tradition, you didn't necessarily come to pay respect to the dead, but you still paid respect to the family.

Steve and Pip, at the head of the church, accepting well wishes from each person that passed by. Eddie stood a few feet away giving them space but if anyone truly knew him, he was just as much family as the Harrington siblings.

Steve was stoic. From the moment you spotted him, you could tell he was trying to be strong. You couldn't help thinking of how handsome he looks, even in this setting. Pip could never hide her emotions, every person she talked with sent a fresh wave of tears flowing.

You had accompanied your father, David Alexander. Nikolai had excused himself from coming at the last minute, saying he had an emergency to take care of at the club. You didn't buy his lie but didn't bother arguing.

You had dressed simply, all black like the rest of the crowd. Knee length, quarter sleeved dress. Tight, but not suffocating. Modest compared to Pip’s attire. That girl never knew how to do anything simple or modest, her flamboyant personality would never allow it.

You both stood in line to see them, your eyes darting back up to Steve every few minutes.

“You're too quiet. What's eating at you?” Your dad leaned over to whisper.

“Hmm?” Your eyes shot up to his. “Nothing, just a lot on my mind.”

He squinted down at you as your head drifted toward the front once again. He followed your gaze, softly smiling to himself.

“Steven’s looking well, no? That boy has really grown into his own.”

You placed your arm around his when he extended his elbow, comfortably settling your hand to his forearm as he led you down the aisle.

“Yes, he looks well.” You hummed and nodded.

Your father grinned to himself as your eyes traveled back toward the front. He patted your hand and sighed as the line in front of you began to dwindle.

The couple ahead of you peeled themselves away from the siblings. Revealing you and your father to them.

Steve's eyes lit up immediately, but he held his solemn expression trying not to give himself away.

Your father spoke up first.

“Steven, my boy,” holding out his hand to greet him. “It's good to see you. My condolences, to you and your sister.”

Steve shook his hand, “Thank you, Mr. Alexander.”

“Please, call me David, son.” It made your heart warm faintly at the thought of your father seeing Steve for not only the man he now was but as an equal, first name basis was usually left for business partners or family only. Your father commanded an air of respect, especially from other families.

Their small talk faded from you as you looked over at Pip. She was so different from the last time you'd seen her. Her frame appearing thin with a sickly pallor accompanying dark sunken eyes.

When she spotted you staring at her, she smiled sweetly, reaching out to hug you.

“Dove!” She almost shrieked.

Your arms hugged her tightly to your chest, confirming what your eyes had seen. She was thin, strikingly so, filling you with worry.

“Pip, I’m so sorry sweet girl.” You soothingly rubbed her back, as a sob racked her body. You let her shed a few tears as she sniffed and leaned back up wiping at her cheeks.

“I’ll be okay, it's just hard knowing he's truly gone. But it's so good to see you. Let's catch up soon.” You nodded, squeezing her hand gently. She didn't let go immediately, grasping a little harder.

“Dove, will you please sit with me during the service?” Her eyes softly pleading, reminding you of your days as children when she would beg you to play a game or watch a movie instead of hanging out with her brother. She was by all accounts your little sister too.

“If it's alright with Steve, I…”

“Steve doesn't care. Do you, Stevie?” Her hand flew up, batting his chest as he gritted his teeth releasing a harsh breath.

“Not at all, Dove. But only if you're comfortable with…”

“She's fine Steve. Thank you, Dove!” She hugged you once more as you heard Steve mumble, “anything for the Princess.”

She shot him a glare before releasing you as you turned your attention toward him.

“Steve, I'm so sorry.” You wound your arms around his neck. His stiff demeanor immediately deflated and melted with your soft touch as his arms found their way around your waist, pressing you further into him. His scent enveloped you, smelling of the warm, spicy cologne he wore.

You held each other for a moment too long, getting lost in the warmth of his embrace, finally coming to your senses and easing back.

“I guess I'll see you up there.” Taking a step further back, seeing him nod.

“I…” He was about to speak before someone cut him off with more condolences as you shied away searching for your father who had already taken a seat in the back, speaking with some men that ran in his circle.

You weaved your way in and out of the crowd. Chatting with familiar faces and being polite to those you didn't quite know.

As the music began to play, everyone found their respective seats for the service to begin. You made your way to the front, feeling eyes on you as you went.

Pip was seated right beside Steve, but once she spotted you, she scooted over. Patting the space between the two of them.

You sat closer to her, trying not to crowd Steve into the corner.

“Thank you, Dove.” She whispered, taking your hand in hers. Black gloves covering her dainty fingers.

“Of course.” You stared ahead, trying not to cut your eyes over to him. The small space between you didn't shield you from the heat that radiated from him.

He remained quiet, but you heard him sigh softly. You wished you could hold his hand and bring him some sense of comfort. In another time and place you could imagine taking your seat beside him without the judgmental looks and hushed whispers.

The service went swiftly, Pip leaning on your shoulder and clutching your hand the entire time as she sobbed and sniffled. Steve maintained the same level of stoicism throughout.

You lost your mother at a very young age. The loss of a parent is something you never truly get over. You could relate in some sense, though you never truly knew your mother.

“Dove, you can ride with us to the cemetery. There's more than enough room.” She leaned over to whisper while they were finishing up, garnering Steve's attention as well.

“Pip.” He hissed, throwing her a warning glare.

“What?” She whispered more loudly, looking past you then.

“I'm sure she doesn't have all day to babysit you.” He said it without looking back at her.

You could see the sadness slowly subside on her face, as it was replaced with anger.

“Fuck you, Steve.” She spat, getting up from her seat, loud in the relatively quiet space while the priest was finishing his last prayer, momentarily causing him to pause, as she stomped down the aisle.

You were taken aback by the outburst but not surprised. Pip was a loose cannon, especially when it came to Steve. Two such domineering personalities that always clashed.

He was about to get up, but you grabbed his forearm stopping him, as he looked at you with a furrowed brow.

“Hey, don't worry. I'll go after her. You stay.” You reassured him.

“You don't have to do that. She's just…” he whispered.

“No, it's okay. Let me go talk to her.”

He nodded, as you slid from the seat. Holding your head high as you followed her, avoiding sideways gazes thrown your way.

You found her sitting on the steps outside the church, smoking a cigarette. Her mascara had begun to run but she hasn't bothered trying to wipe it away this time.

“Hey, you.” You lowered yourself down, knocking your shoulder into hers as you sat.

She took a long drag, exhaling toward the sky as the smoke curled away from her lips, letting the ashes fall to the concrete beside her.

“He doesn't have to treat me like a child. I know I've got issues but I'm not a fucking child. Mr. I don't show my emotions so you shouldn't either. Our dad died. You think the least he could do is show me a little compassion or act like he gives a shit.” She released a tagged sigh, taking the cigarette to her lips once more.

“I don't think he necessarily means to make you feel like that. Steve has a lot on his shoulders and your dad, well… he and Steve never saw eye to eye. I know he's hurting too, but he has to be strong. You know how it is with these men.” You rubbed soothing circles to her back as you spoke.

She sniffed, pulling a tissue out to wipe her face.

“I can ride to the cemetery with you. I don't mind.”

“That'd be nice.” A faint smile crossed her face, as you wrapped your arm around her waist. “I'm going to get cleaned up. Wait for me?”

“Of course.” You helped her up, following her back into the lobby as the service ended, watching her disappear into the restroom.

You caught your father on his way out, letting him know you were going with them, and he could head home if he needed to.

“If you're sure.” He kissed your forehead, before leaving you to stand by the door waiting for her to exit, when Steve strode up beside you.

“Where's Pip?!” He asked, a little breathless.

“She's in the restroom.” As soon as you got the sentence out, he began to bang on the door, twisting the knob.

“Steve, what're you doing? For God's sake, give her a little privacy.” You pleaded.

“Pip, open the goddamn door.” He rushed out, pounding his fists harder than before, looking worried when he was met with silence.

“Steve?” You looked around, a crowd slowly gathering around at his outburst.

“Just step back, I'm knocking the door down.”

You did as you were told, with your heart beginning to pound in your chest at how worried he seemed.

“Pip, I'm coming in!” He shouted, before his shoulder slammed into it, knocking it open as he rushed in.

You turned the corner to see Pip, slumped over against the back wall passed out. Your mind didn't comprehend what you were seeing at first.

He knelt down beside her, pulling her face up and lightly slapping her cheek.

“Pip! Wake up! Goddamnit!” His fingers flew to her neck, checking for a pulse.

It all seemed to be happening in slow motion as you watched the scene unfold. Eddie rushed in beside you, as Steve yelled at him to bring the car around, lifting her up with him from the ground, moving aside as he passed you.

It was frantic, the sea or people parting to let them go by as you stood there in shock. Watching Steve run with her lifeless body in tow.

Only coming to your senses when you hear someone close by seemingly laughing at the scene. “Pip, always the life of the party.” They sneered.

You looked around the small bathroom, spotting her purse on the floor, quickly picking it up and taking it with you avoiding the gazes of onlookers but keeping your head held high all the way.

Richard Harrington was buried while colleagues and friends looked on. None of his children were there to see him interred.

You were ringing your hands in the back seat as your chauffeur took you across town the next morning. Nerves getting the better of you.

It has been years since you've seen the Harrington residence but as soon as it comes into view memories begin to flood your mind.

There were the sweet moments when you were young children. Playing in the garden or swimming in the pool. You, Steve and Pip. Much simpler times when a game of hide and seek could keep you all occupied for hours.

Isabella Harrington had finally had enough right after Steve turned 10, leaving Richard and taking Pip with her back to Italy. She didn't leave Steve to fend for himself intentionally but given the option of losing both her children or taking Pip, she has no other choice.

Suddenly, the play dates were dwindling, and you began to see less and less of Steve. Separate schools made it even harder but despite it all you remained close.

You'd been in love with Steve since you were 12 when he told you that one day he was going to marry you and gave you your first kiss behind the pool house.

So caught up in your thoughts you hadn't heard the driver or noticed the car had stopped.

“Miss? Are you alright?” He said a little louder, catching your attention and thoroughly pulling you from your daydream.

“Hmmmm? Yes, fine, thank you.” Replying quickly.

“We’ve arrived, Mrs. Petrov.” He said as he exited the car, coming around to get your door.

“Thank you,” you whispered as you removed yourself, neck craning upward. The house seemed bigger, more intimidating than you remembered.

Immediately clocking several security personnel stationed in various positions around the yard, no doubt already alerting him to your arrival as you stepped across the cobblestone drive, heels a little unsteady against the uneven stone.

Reaching the few steps to the large front door, it opened before you had the chance to knock.

“Hi stranger!” Eddie beamed down at you. Curls tied back into a low bun, still dressed to impress. Burgundy silk dress shirt thrown over his frame, tattooed forearms on display. He was handsome in his own right.

“Hi Eddie! How have you been?” You stepped closer to him, pulling him in for a quick hug. “Sorry we didn't get to chat yesterday.”

“Doing well, and don't sweat it. There was a lot going on.” He laughed, albeit a little nervously as he pulled back. “He's in the office, you can follow me.”

You remembered the layout fairly well, the office was at the back of the house on the first floor. A large space, with windows overlooking the expanse of the back garden.

Eddie walked quietly ahead of you, as you looked around the house. It was exactly as you remembered. Dark walls with marble flooring leading to the ornate door at the end of the hall.

He didn't bother knocking, as you followed him in. The curtains were drawn back from the windows letting the natural light illuminate the space.

Steve leaned against the far wall staring out the window. He was dressed down in a sky blue short sleeved shirt and cream-colored trousers. He turned, chestnut locks a little unkempt with a thin gold chain resting against his chest.

He turned in time to see you both enter, pushing off the wall to meet you halfway.

“Dove! What a pleasant surprise.” He flashed you a warm smile, turning to dismiss Eddie as he closed the door behind him.

“I brought Pip’s clutch.” Holding out for him to take.

“Thanks, I'll let her know. Though I'm not sure she even missed it.” He sighed, easing it from your hand, tossing it to the desk beside him.

You'd heard she'd barely made it to the hospital. Apparently, the coke she had ingested was laced with fentanyl. Pip was a party girl, she hadn't intentionally tried to overdose which was a relief, all things considered.

“How is she?” You asked.

“I honestly don't know. I thought she…” His face flashed with momentary worry, before shaking it off. “She's going to rehab before I send her back to Italy. I think this might have actually scared some sense into her even though she's pissed at me.”

“You're doing the right thing. She needs you to be there for her.” Reassuring him.

He nodded before you both fell into a comfortable silence as your eyes took in the room. He had already begun renovating it to his liking which made you smile.

“I thought it could use an update.” He said, as if reading your mind.

The wallpaper was being taken down, replaced with a fresh coat of paint. Steve has always hated his father's gaudy taste, as if he needed to remind himself of his wealth in his own office. Steve was humble, he didn't need to flaunt and inflate himself to others. You admired him for that, always staying true to himself.

“I'm sure it'll be perfect. Doing the whole house, I hope? The medieval dungeon theme is so last year.” He chuckled.

“You don't like it? I thought about adding some chains and cuffs in the hall to really set it off.” You both laughed.

“But, yes I'm planning an overhaul for the entire house.” For a moment he wondered what you would do with the place. He could imagine the way your eyes lit up knowing you could make it your own.

A place for you and him to raise a couple of kids, have family dinners every Sunday and eventually grow old together. Or would you want to move out of the city altogether? Sell this old house and start anew?

If only he knew the similar thoughts that swirled through your mind but you couldn't allow yourself to dwell.

You suddenly checked your watch, clearing your throat.

“I'm sorry to cut this short, I've got a client coming by in a few.” Sighing to yourself.

“No worries. I'll let Pip know you brought this by.” Holding her purse up for emphasis. “Let me walk you out.”

He followed closely behind you down the hall, just shy of reaching his palm out to your lower back, into the foyer as one of the security guards opened the front door.

You turned once more to bid him farewell but it was he who spoke first.

“Dove, you're welcome here anytime. Please, stop by. I'll even show you my fancy cooking skills sometime.” He grinned, the smile reaching his eyes, boyish and bright.

“Steve Harrington cooks? This I'll have to see.” Mirroring his smile, as your driver opened your door. “Bye Steve.”

He waved, as you got in and continued to watch your car exit the drive.

He couldn't explain it. The inexplicable need to be near you. Wishing for another life. A once upon a time he could have had with you.

Alone in his big house, with no one to share it with, he sighed heavily making his way back to his office.

Fairy tales, he thinks. Meant for much gentler souls than he. Someone deserving of it, brave and pure of heart, just like the stories his mother used to read to him and Pip when they were still children, still room to believe in such notions as soul mates and true loves first kiss.

Eddie was waiting there, sitting behind his desk.

“Call for you.” He stated, getting up from the chair extending the phone towards him.

“Take a message, I'm not in the mood right now. I'll call them back.” He crossed the room, pouring himself a drink.

“Steve, I think you're going to want to take this.”

You hated lying but you had to get out of there.

A whole lifetime's worth of memories seemed to overtake you when you stepped through the threshold of a home that you practically grew up in.

You dreaded going back to your own home. A home that you'd hoped one day would have been filled with love that never came to fruition.

Such high hopes in the beginning with Nikolai.

He was the perfect gentleman. A whirlwind romance that had you so swept away you didn't see his true colors until it was too late.

So caught up with what he was, but it was truly only what he showed you. What he wanted you to believe.

Soon after your marriage, it was late nights at his clubs coming home smelling of liquor and sweet smelling perfume that turned into not coming home at all some nights.

You'd wanted white picket fences and children laughing down the hall. He gave you heartache and crying alone in your empty king sized bed.

Almost five years later and you're left to question if he ever loved you or if it had all been a strategy to gain his power.

Later that night you were in the study reading on the large sofa, room lit softly by the fireplace. Cozy in silk pajamas and your favorite blanket, it was the perfect end to the day as you sipped some wine.

Nik slipped in, late as usual, loosening his tie as he stomped into the room.

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” He hissed.

“Well, nice to see you too, dear.” You didn't look up, only rolling your eyes. “It looks like I'm reading, no?”

“Why the hell did you go to Harrington's today?” He stepped in front of you, crossing his arms.

“I was returning Pip’s clutch. She left it at the church.” Shrugging and returning to your book as if it should be the end of it.

“You expect me to believe that?” He leaned down, arm caging you in, as he swiftly pulled the book from your hand tossing it in the empty space of the couch beside you. Closing in, almost nose to nose, as his imposing frame hovered over you.

“It's the truth, Nik. I really don't care what you choose to believe.” You spat back at him. Not at all in the mood for his little games or vile attitude.

You knew the only reason he skipped the funeral was because he had a bone to pick with Richard. Now it seems he's trying to take it up with Steve.

You pushed his chest, getting up from the couch as you started to cross the room now done with the conversation but he grabbed your arm, wrenching you back around to face him.

“Let's get one thing straight, YOU, under no circumstances, are to see him again.” His grip tightening as he spoke. He'd never laid a hand on you, but the way he was squeezing you now was surely going to leave a mark.

“Nik, let me go. You can't forbid me to stay away from my childhood friends. You're being ridiculous. Steve is not Richard. You have nothing against him.” His grip only grew tighter, shaking you just a bit as you tried to pull yourself free. “Nik! Let go of me!”

“No Y/N! I mean it. You are not to see him again!” Screaming in your face, droplets of spital flying toward you. “Do you understand me?”

You finally nodded. Worrying if you tried to push the issue further it would only make things worse.

“Say it!” He shouted.

“I understand. Now, let me go!” He did so, pushing you slightly away from him.

“Good.” He sneered, smirk now donning his face as he brushed past you on his way to pour himself a drink from the small bar in the corner of the room as you quickly grabbed your things.

You passed one of Nik’s security details, whose gaze fell away from you as you rushed out of the room, he'd overheard the entire thing. You were mortified at his behavior. Nik was a grade A asshole but he had never been physical.

Your feet carried you swiftly to your room, heaving a sigh of relief as you locked the door behind you. Glad to have some kind of barrier between the two of you tonight.

Running into the bathroom, you slid your robe from your shoulder to examine your arm. It was already starting to form finger shaped bruises.

You could easily hide them, wearing long sleeves, which you did most days. It was horrifying to think you had no choice but to hide them. HE had done this to you.

You washed your face and slid into bed, crying softly to yourself as your mind began spiraling. This was a life you had never wanted.

A husband that never looks at you, unless it's with disdain and contempt. Now seemingly hell bent on keeping you in line the way he sees fit. When words don't work, he'll easily use brute force to bend you to his will.

Telling Steve would be completely out of the question for both of your sakes, but in the coming days you would soon find out how difficult it would be to avoid him completely.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #mafia!steve harrington #mafia!steve #steve harrington x y/n #eddie munson #mafia au #mafia!eddie #mafia!eddie munson #joe keery #joseph quinn #king of hearts #KOH

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lotanxiety · 6 months

Text

You’re not alone

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean and Sam notice you aren’t taking good care of yourself and they are worried about you. Dean talks you through it and offers support.

Warnings: mentions of ED, SH, and depression, this has some seriously heavy shit so if this triggers you PLS don’t read, fluff with dean

——————————————————

You have lived in the bunker with the boys for 3 years. Lately, your mental health has been really bad, but you were trying to hide it from Sam and Dean. With everything they dealt with on a daily basis, the last thing you wanted them to worry about was you.

It all started 4 months ago when you started having nightmares and flashbacks of the times you almost died. You were pretty sure you had PTSD, but with your lifestyle, therapy wasn’t really an option. You grew up with abusive parents which didn’t help with the accumulating trauma. The body keeps score and it seemed to all be catching up with you now. First, it was the nightmares, then the dissociating. The only times you felt alive were when you would fight monsters which led to your newest bad habit.

Whenever you didn’t feel real or got angry with yourself for whatever reason, you would take it out on your hips. It was something you could control. It reminded you that you’re real and it’s served as a punishment when you felt you deserved it. Seeing the red lines across your hips made you happy when everything else seemed grey.

As if it couldn’t get any worse, it was increasingly more difficult to get out of bed each morning. You would forget basic human necessities like eating, drinking, or bathing. You were able to hide your struggles before, but now it’s becoming noticeable. On the days the boys were home, you would fake it the best you could so they wouldn’t pick up on anything wrong, but not anymore. Maybe you want someone to notice. Maybe you finally want to be saved and cared for the way you save others.

———————-

*around noon*

“Hey, have you seen Y/N?” Dean asked Sam walking into the kitchen.

“No, I haven’t seen her all day.” Sam said. “Have you noticed.. she seems a little quiet lately. I also noticed she’s been having more nightmares lately.”

“I noticed that too, I can hear her scream out sometimes. I mean we all get nightmares, but these seem bad. Have you not talked to her about it at all?” Dean questioned.

“No, I thought you would’ve mentioned it.” Sam said.

“Dude, she’s obviously going through something and neither of us have checked up on her? Way to go.” Dean scoffed as he headed in the direction of your room.

—————————

You were laying on your bed, staring at the wall thinking of all the ways you have messed up lately. The last hunt you were out on, you made a mistake that almost got Sammy killed. Now, you opt to stay back and reference the lore. You replayed every mistake over and over in your head. Suddenly a knock interrupts your ‘greatest hits’.

You clear your throat, “um, who is it?” you ask.

“It’s Dean, can i come in.”

You look around to the mess of your room, random items taking up space on your bed with you. Suddenly, you become embarrassed and ashamed. “I- uh, do you need something?” You shout to the man on the other side of the door.

“I haven’t seen you all day, I just wanted to check up on you. Are you feeling okay?” Dean asks with concern.

*coughing loudly* “No I think I’ve come down with something, you should stay away.” You say, trying to sound sickly.

“Oh, ok. I can bring you some soup if you like” Dean asks, knowing you’re lying but trying to get through to you.

“I’m not hungry, thanks though” You say, pushing any kind of help away. You didn’t understand why you do this. You want help but then it comes and you resist at all costs. Maybe because this mess you’re feeling is comfortable, familiar. You’ve always been messed up, but now it’s just manifesting on the outside. When it was bottled up, it was easy to hide from everyone, but this is much harder and every lie you tell drains you more and more.

“You need to eat” Dean contested.

“I said no, now can you please go” The words felt like knives being thrown at the closed door. You didn’t mean to be so aggressive, but Deans pushing set off a nerve. Immediately you felt bad, but knew you couldn’t look at his face so you sat still in your bed as you heard hushed footsteps fade away. Feeling hot tears burn in your eyes, you walked over to your bathroom, and grabbed your razor. Anger towards yourself coursed through your veins, into your hands, as you unleashed hell onto your body. Saying to yourself, “You deserve this for being mean to Dean, he was just trying to be nice. He doesn’t deserve that. What’s wrong with you, etc.”

When you’re satisfied, your hips are stained red. You clean up and go back to laying in your bed, as you cry yourself to sleep.

——————-

That evening

“I don’t know Sammy, I think there’s something really wrong. Earlier- the way she spoke to me. It wasn’t her. I need to talk to her, to see her face, but she keeps pushing me away. I don’t know what to do. I’m worried… I’m worried it’s worse than just nightmares.” Dean confides to his brother.

“Yeah, I’m worried too. Maybe we can set up a movie night in the Dean cave and coax her out of her room. I think having some quality time, not worried about monsters could help.” Sam suggested.

“Okay, yeah. You run to the store and get some supplies and I’ll break out blankets and pillows. Meet back here in 30.” Dean says hopeful. He hated knowing that you were upset, but he wanted this to help so badly. He worked hard at getting his Dean cave set up perfectly. He even made a blanket fort. Once Sam and Dean finished setting everything up, the came to knock on your door.

You had just woken up from your restless nap. Unfortunately, the day wasn’t even over so you were back to laying in misery. You heard another knock on your door.

“Hey uh, we need your help in the Dean cave” Dean said from behind the door, you could almost hear the smile in his voice even though you couldn’t see him. While most other times you would decline, your curiosity got the best of you.

“Uhh okay, let me use the bathroom and I’ll be right there.” You said, getting up from your bed, ignoring the terrible headache. It stemmed from a combination of lack of food, water, good sleep, and crying so much. You looked in the mirror, repulsed by the face staring back at you, so you got to work making yourself as presentable as possible. After a much need brush through your hair (and teeth), a change of clothes, and some light makeup, you felt okay enough to make your public appearance. You left your bedroom, quickly shutting the door behind you to hide the mess, and headed towards the Dean cave.

When Dean and Sam laid their eyes on you for the first time in days, their mouths dropped. You looked awful. Bags under your eyes and barely skin and bone. You were always skinny, but this- this was bad. Both of the brothers concern immediately sky rocketed, but being as smart as they are, they knew to play it off. They knew if they outright said anything, you’d get defensive and shut down. So they quickly glanced at each other and greeted you like any other day. You were too busy looking at the scene in front of you to notice the boys faces.

“What- what is all this” you say surveying the room in awe.

“We thought you could use a little pick me up movie night.” Sam said with a soft smile on his face. Dean turned away from you to face the tv. It was too hard to look at you. He blamed himself for not checking on you sooner. For not immediately knowing there was something deeper going on. The cases had distracted him from the problem right under his nose and he was so angry at himself. You instantly noticed the change in his demeanor, making you uneasy. You thought he was still mad at you for the way you spoke to him earlier in the day. You made a mental note to apologize later. Sam opened up the blanket to let you sit beside him and so you did. In front of you, there was a whole display of food. Burgers, fries, popcorn, candy, you name it. The sight instantly made you nauseous.

You thought that you didn’t deserve food. Your mind = your greatest enemy. You pretended not to notice the food and encouraged them to start the movie. It was Alice In Wonderland- your favorite childhood movie you let slip one night with Dean after a beer too many. You glance across Sam to Dean who is staring at the TV but not actually watching. Sam nudges some fries in your direction, to which you shake your head.

“No thanks” you whisper over the beginning scene of the movie.

“Cmon Y/N, you haven’t eaten all day.” Sam said.

“Oh no, I had some granola bars in my room. I’ve been snacking on those-“ You lied.

��No you haven’t” Dean said finally speaking to you.

“What-“ you say looking at him confused, trying to play this off quickly.

“I’m not sure you’ve eaten anything in days” Dean starts.

“Dean-“ Sam interjects, trying to keep his brother from pushing you away.

“No, Sammy. She’s sick. Look at her.” Dean states.

Immediately, tears well up in your eyes. You knew you didn’t look your best but hearing Dean say that. It was too much. You wanted to head straight to your room to cut again, but Dean wasn’t finished talking.

“Y/N, I can’t walk on eggshells about this- you look terrible. What is going on?” Dean says in a much softer tone than before, his anger fading into worry.

“Nothings… going on.” you say.

“That’s not true and we all know it, can you just talk to us?” Sam asks.

Suddenly, that defense mechanism hits you strong and you attack the boys you love more than anything. You can’t help it. “I SAID I’M FINE. WOULD YOU BOTH JUST LEAVE ME ALONE AND GO BACK TO WORRYING ABOUT MONSTERS OR WHATEVER” you shout, exiting the room and heading straight for your bedroom.

You close the door behind you, still crying. The scene that just played out was one of your worst nightmares and partially why you have started staying locked in your room. You beeline for the bathroom to pick up the razor for a second time that day. You roll down your pants to the hidden canvas. Right before you can move, Dean bursts through your door.

You both freeze. Time stops for a couple seconds. Every mirage and illusion you’ve built over the past few months is shattered. The ugly, dirty truth is exposed. Your walls crumble to the ground. You refuse to lift your eyes from the ground as he approaches you. He takes the razor from your hands without saying a word and throws it to the other side of the bathroom and grabs you into his arms. You both crash to the floor, as you sob into chest. Dean hold you patiently while you let it all out. Everything you’ve been holding inside. There are a million thoughts going through Dean’s head, questions he has, but his main objective is just to be there for you. You needed him, and he wasn’t there. All the warning signs, ignored. He secretly blamed himself for letting it get this bad.

You both sit in the floor of your bathroom for a while. Your sobs slowly turned into quiet hiccups for air. You nervously lifted off of his chest, anxiously awaiting the conversation to follow the events that have just transpired. You finally make eye contact with Dean, his eyes are glassy and red.

“I’m sorry Y/N” Dean said barely above a whisper dragging his hand over your hair to brush it out of your tear soaked face.

You open and close your mouth, not expecting his response. “What are you sorry for?” you ask confused.

“I- I wasn’t there for you. I mean I knew something was off, but- but this. This is all my fault.” Dean says moving his hand to hold your cheek, a singular tear falling down his right cheek.

“No, no this isn’t your fault at all. I- I don’t know what to say.” You say, feeling the weight of the situation.

“You don’t have to say anything. We are going to get you some help. You’re not alone in this. You have Sam. You have me. This- this work is hard and I know you’ve had it rough, but you can and will get through this.” Dean says, as more tears begin to fall from your eyes, though you thought you couldn’t cry anymore.

“I need you to get better. I need my Y/N. Can you do that for me?” Dean asks, gently stroking your cheek and wiping the tears as they fall. You nod.

That night, the three of you work on tidying up your room. Dean filled Sam in privately and he wanted to help you in anyway he could. You guys went back to the Dean cave after your room was clean, and ate dinner. Dean even drank water with you instead of his normal beer so you would be more inclined to drink it.

Finally, it was time for bed. Dean walked to your room with you. “I wish you would’ve told me what has been going on with you, but I’m sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t” Dean said.

“You didn’t- I just didn’t want you to worry about me when you’ve got a whole world and billions of people to worry about.” You say in response.

“I will always worry about you first. I care about you Y/N. I am here for you no matter what.” Dean says firmly, pulling you in for a hug. His chin rests on your head as you two stand in an embrace mid hallway.

“Dean, could you maybe- um stay with me tonight?” You ask.

“Of course”

Dean grabs your hand and pulls you towards your bed. He strips down to his boxers and climbs in, holding a spot next to him for you. You curl up next to him, feeling the heat radiate off his body, comforting you. “Thank you” you whisper as you quickly drift off into a much needed, nightmare free, deep sleep. Dean leans over to kiss your head as he whispers, “I love you Y/N”.

#dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #fanfic #sam winchester #supernatural

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marigoldenblooms · 2 months

Text

Unica Semper Avis - Prologue

Pairing: Cleric!Wanda x Fem!AvianShifter!Reader x MonsterHunter!Natasha

Prompt: Ever since you’ve come of age, you’ve never been able to stop yourself from transforming into a monster. Whenever the sky would dim with a New Moon, you’d ravage the world with a fury unknown by many. Such is the bane existence of your species. This time, however - something was different. Now, you need help. On the feeble doorstep of the so-called ‘Spirit Healer,’ you found yourself both at the mercy of a cleric, and of a monster hunter’s blade. Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

MINORS DNI - 18+

TW/General Tags: No mention of Y/N, slow burn, stranger to lovers (Wanda), enemies to lovers (Natasha), eventual smut (lord have mercy), Swearing, Fantasy violence, occasional descriptions of light body horror during transformation, slight self harm, slight restraint, angst, fluff, will add tags as they appear!

Chapter Warnings: Initial prologue, swearing, slight descriptions of transformation.

a/n: This is my first fic, working off/on for a slight while. I’ve been a long-time lurker, and I’ve finally got a few ideas and the brain power sufficient for at least a good ‘ol attempt! I’d love any feedback y'all could offer! This is just the initial prologue, and true interaction of the trio will begin in the following chapter. Thanks again!

Word Count: 1.9k - Read Length: 7 minutes, 11 seconds. Pictures aren't mine, credit to their owners!

~~~

You couldn’t tell where the feathers started, and your skin began.

It had been weeks of incessant avoidance to getting help, or facing the truth of your affliction - it was now, above all else, time to face the music. However, you wouldn’t sing. For you, it had been days of fatigue, the inability to catch your breath, and the hiss of your skeleton rearranging itself. What difference was it than any other succession you’d been through? You’ve always survived alone. Well, if the whispers among your forest’s cool leaves were any indication, this molt wouldn’t play fair.

Your skin itches with a frenzy your dull fingernails couldn’t soothe, the ripple of pin feathers beneath taut skin an uncomfortable ache. Once your campfire’s embers are fully extinguished, the feeling would get much worse. The transformation wouldn’t go too far if you remained in your home, you thought- your dwelling refurbished caverns, the soft drip of percolating water into your carved wooden bowls a welcome sound. You’d have enough to drink through these next difficult days..and a part of you hoped that it’d be enough to satiate your thirst for viscera, for marrow. If the new moon’s presence never struck your subconscious, perhaps you wouldn’t even feel it.

------------------------------------------

Your head would throb as you’d rise from your bedrolls, unable to find the sleep you begged for. A keen sense told you it was evening, the night’s chill rolling over your exposed shoulders in waves. If you were truly going to transform, as had been your normal for countless years- there was no point in ripping more clothes in the process. The earth felt rough underneath you, becoming more sodden as you’d trek towards the mouth of your cave, the evening’s darkness doing little but sharpen away the humanity you had left. It had rained, the air’s scent carrying the fresh smell. Recently, to be noticed by your unresponsive nose..and yet, it couldn’t rival the majesty of the sky. Stars speckled across its tapestry, a sigh escaping you at its sheer beauty. It was a enchanting reminder of what you would see when you woke up after your succession, after the molt had picked you clean and rebuilt you. At least that’s what it’d feel like, when you’d regain your mind.

You could feel the dull pain of feathers beneath skin even further, as though your body craved to soar up into its expanse. You’d pat your shoulder down as if brushing dirt from it, knocking sense into your own instincts. You couldn’t afford to further the transformation now- it’d never started this early before. The moon was a mere sliver within the sky, last shades of light due to leave within the next day. “The soil is what I deserve,” You’d grit aloud like a mantra, echoing in your thoughts, soothing you into begrudging complacency. The sinful sky would murmur to you, a voice slipping out through the darkness, and you’d shy away from her. It was your conscience, or perhaps your instincts. They were always mouthy this close to the new moon.

“You must soar,” She’d breathe, her words like rustling leaves in the howling night air. You’d have turned your back to the sound, head low as your arms would cross to cover yourself. She wasn’t real. She wasn’t real. She wasn’t-

“Hunger plagues you..” The voice would coax, fanning across your back, swirling between the crackled down which speckled new growth on your shoulder blades. You’d turn again, a hiss sparking in your throat- the sound raspy, incomplete, feeling raw on your tongue as it’d clip between barred teeth, gnashing against your words. “I am sane..” You’d breathe, the words harsh in your mouth. You’d done this dance hundreds of times, and yet the voice inside your mind was oddly corporeal today. “I am lonely..” you’d admit, shaking your head out as though it’d rid you from the illusionary tone, giving yourself a reason to be hearing voices, “You are nothing but my own mind. You aren’t-”

“Real?” The voice would ask, before the air sliced against your jaw- finger-like, pulling your gaze back as your body would turn around to follow it. Your eyes would see her then, fully for the first time- spotted in starlight, not just a figment of your own mind’s trickery. Vaguely humanoid, spectral feathers would blanket her arms, slackened wings framing her back as though an angel- ghostly, as her entire form was vaguely translucent, made of a soft white glow. One hand would have pulled your chin to meet her gaze, entire body tensing as her ‘grip’ felt like the crisp embrace of the night’s air. The voice had never had a body before.

“Who are you?” You’d ask, spitting vitriol even though your hands shook, her touch iron-clad even though it seemed to be crafted from the wind itself.

She’d chuckle, tilting your head so she could get a better look at you, and you got the feeling that she could peer at much more than just your skin. “You haven’t heard of me, fledgeling?” The voice would question musically, her tone a soothing balm to your transformation, and yet seemed to aggravate it further. You could feel the low pop of sinews contracting to allow the slow re-arranging of your skeleton, grunting at the uncomfortable sensation.

And even still, she wouldn’t release your head from her hold, tongue tsking at your lack of an immediate answer. “You..aren’t like me-” You’d scoff beneath your breath, expression radiating fury. It was easier to feel angry towards the apex of a lunation, and you harnessed it now. She was no monster, some kind of partial Aegypius- she was not chained to the moon as you were. What audacity did she have to mar your affliction with her words? “Leave me, before I-”

“Silence-” She’d interrupt, the sound layered with the voices of many. Your jaw would close shut before she’d finished the first syllable, something in the word beckoning complete and total submission. “Ah, so they can be trained..” She’d rasp, a sickly sharp grin plastering her see-through expression. She’d pull your jaw up higher, thumb resting underneath your chin, “I know you…and I think it’s time you remember me.”

You’d feel her before you heard her again, the contraction of your stomach causing you to double over. Within an instant, you were no longer yourself, the sharp crack of bone and tendon filling the air as feathers would blanket shifting skin. You’d blink, and see your eyes change into an overwhelming hyper-vigilance, until you felt nothing at all but hunger.

------------------------------------------

The fabric beneath you was quickly forgotten as you’d jolt awake, breath shaking as your vision would correct itself to the soft daylight emanating from cracks in your cavern’s walls. Your headache would only intensify, hissing as the soft rays would accost you. It seems you had found fitful sleep, although the harsh feeling of cold against your form would persist longer than you liked. It was all a dream. Just a dream..

In your sleep, you hadn’t known who that woman was. Scrounging through your waking memories bore different fruit, however. Your hands cycled through old tomes- the few you managed to obtain on your species. You'd have to nudge the manacles near your things with a shard of rock to get to them though, keeping even the slightest wisp of your skin away from its metal. It wasn’t the material you feared, but what was carved within it- some kind of passage you’d long forgotten the translation to. All that mattered is that it hurt like a bitch, and did its job of keeping you restrained when a lunation was at its peak.

After a few minutes, you’d find your answer in an especially unweathered page: Matron, the Aegypius creation deity. Another name was below it whose dialect you’d long forgotten; Your birth tongue. With a tight-lipped grumble, you’d close the book shut before rising to weathered feet. It wouldn’t take a historian to tell you that seeing a goddess in your dreams was a bad sign.

You’d don your belongings quietly, the silence calming against breaths which shuddered your slowly-hollowing skeleton. As you’d slip your bedroll atop your fraying rucksack, you could feel the shifting curvature of stretching muscle which had begun within your shoulders, preparing the form for flight in a day's time. Soon, it wouldn’t be your body anymore. The manacles would join you, shoved hastily within your kit with a stray cloth blocking your fingers from direct contact. You’d feel their burn that evening, once you’d return to the cave later that night.

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With a final glance towards your cavern, you’d set off towards your destination; the ‘Spirit Healer of Bellmoor’, although you could care less if they were a toad masquerading as a human. If they could help you, as it’d become rapidly clear that was necessary, then the hike was worthwhile. It’d take a few hours of travel, weaving through tree trunks as your legs carried you where your wings begged to go. The sky was a saccharine prize, and yet you kept your expression forward- gazing at its majesty would only strengthen your molt’s urge to progress.

You’d take the long road to avoid any prying eyes, or any eyes at all, for that matter. You valued solitude, the one hardened aspect of your species which allowed them to not be culled as soon as they came into existence- it kept your kind mysterious, more of a figment than truth, and kept other Aegypius from tearing each other apart for territory. The healer’s house would come into view a second later. It was wooden and humble-looking, the cabin lit with a warm interior glow from within its small grove. Approaching its brass knocker, you’d clang on the door three times, praying that’d be enough. As the second ticked past, you’d raise your knuckles to rap a second time, but the door opened before you could bother. Behind it, claret-colored irises would greet you, accompanied by high cheekbones, fiery red hair, and an inquisitive glance. You wouldn’t meet her gaze as your own turned downward, your voice roughened from lack of use.

“Are you the healer?”

You’d see her face morph into a cheshire grin in your peripheral, as she’d step aside to allow you further passage into her home. “Yes, I am. Welcome, and come in.”

------------------------------------------

Heavy breaths would thunder through the open forest, the woman sinking deftly through the trees, in sight of her quarry. A cavern decorated with slung beading, woven from thin, flexible vines and hollowed, pecked-out rocks. The alcove would’ve almost been homey to Natasha, if it wasn’t the den of a monster. Her longsword would be clasped tightly in gloved hands, held forward as the hunter would skulk towards her prey.

She’d settle her back to the cave’s entrance, a trickle of sweat staining her brow. The chase had been long and arduous, but it was finally complete. With a hardy swing, she’d growl her war cry into the air and-

See nothing. The cave was empty.

Natasha would pant, eyes dilated as she’d grit her teeth in rapidly fuming, silent frustration. Her pupils would bounce from corner to ceiling, taking in the scene before her..the monster had fled. It ran. She’d scoff at that, barking a cruel laugh beneath her breath as she’d coat her fingers in leftover charcoal, pulling her glove off to feel its texture. Crumbled and thick, not weathered terribly by elements..this fire was burned recently. The creature’s departure wasn’t long ago.

Her confidence would only return as she’d trudge outside, noticing escaping footprints she hadn’t noticed prior. In her focus to kill, obviously- she would’ve found them ages ago if she were actually looking for them. She’d smirk to herself, before beginning the hunt anew.

“I’m on your tail, гриф..” Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

~~~

#bearrrwrites #wandanat x reader #wandanat #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #fantasy au #minors dni #scarlet witch x reader #black widow x reader #wandanat smut #wanda smut #natasha smut #I got no idea what I'm doing #fuck it we ball #new writers on tumblr #new fic

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pennyblossom-meta · 5 months

Text

Gale/Wyll banter

Here's a collection of Gale/Wyll banter that I found in the dialogue files. I hope this is useful as both fanfiction resources and general curiosity :)

Help: I'm fairly sure there's a line from Wyll (?) mentioning how Gale doesn't ever eat vegetables, but for the life of me I can't find it. UPDATE 30/12/2023: Found it and added it to the post, the banter happens with the MC during the tiefling party. Also added a couple more interesting tidbits of dialogue.

Warning: long post.

Act 01

Loss of powers

Wyll points out that he used to kill big monsters, and now a few goblins are a challenge. What gives? Gale remarks it must be the tadpole. Wyll: Was a time I tussled with hill giants without breaking a sweat. Wyll: Now, a mere werebear could swat me halfway to Amn. devnote: Amn = city on the Sword Coast. Pronounced "AAHM" like UK Eng "arm". Gale: Strange things are happening to us. What festers in our minds may well impel our bodies.

—

Netherese magic

Wyll recalls the hag said 'Netherese' and asks Gale what he knows. Astarion adds a thought if he is present. Wyll: Ethel mentioned Netherese magic. What in blazes does that mean? Gale: Magic from the fallen empire of Netheril. Ancient, exceedingly dangerous, and quite unrivalled. Astarion: Wonderful! I'd hate to be destroyed by any common old magic. devnote: A little sarcastic. You've been told the dangerous magic inside you is ancient and unrivalled

—

Goblin raids

Wyll: I've known goblin raiders to slaughter entire villages and strip them for loot - but I've never seen one ravaged like this. Gale: It's hard to imagine anyone who'd willingly inflict such devastation, be they zealots, marauders, invading armies... A sign of far worse to come, I fear.

—

Act 02

Mountain Pass

Gale: These cragged hillls make for weary soles. I see why most headed inland prefer the smooth sailing of the Chionthar. Wyll: More importantly, the land west of here suffers under a terrible curse. Gale: You've seen it for yourself? Wyll: I've glimpsed that doom during my travels, but never dared get close. Wyll: If we continue this way, we may get too close for comfort.

—

Scary woods

Wyll: What a dismal forest. Monsters could be lurking behind any and every tree. Gale: We'd be wise to fear the trees themselves. It feels like the forest itself longs for our destruction. devnote: serious Wyll: Frustrating, that. Wyll: Monsters, I can fight. But I can no more sever these shadows than I could the wind or the sun.

—

Approaching Moonrise

Gale: Moonrise Towers lies ahead. We're nearing the Heart of the Absolute, I'm certain of it. Wyll: Then let us push forward, heads high, weapons in hand, and turn this tower to rubble. Gale: Your confidence is encouraging but a little premature. Let's keep our eyes on the task ahead. Or eye, as the case may be.

—

Tollhouse

Gale: A tollhouse like this would only be merited in the most prosperous of settlements. This was once a thriving trade route. Wyll: Should it be any wonder? The Chionthar's waters carry merchant vessels from as far east as Berdusk. devnote: bur-DUSK Wyll: And they wouldn't have brought just trade goods, but song, dance, and custom. Riches of the mind and the spirit. Wyll: So much was lost when the darkness fell.

—

At the Mason's Guild

Gale: The masons here thought they were building something to last. How wrong they were. Wyll: Perhaps it's a blessing that none of them survived to see it fall to the shadows. Gale: No need for such a grim assumption. Halsin helped many to escape these shadows before the town was consumed. Wyll: Then some masons were more blessed still, if they could put their talents to use elsewhere. Wyll: Perhaps some of their work even graces Baldur's Gate.

—

Guildhall

Wyll: It might seem a bit ramshackle, but this place has a boastworthy bar. Gale: A bar is only as good as its cellars. Which vintages can we expect to find on their racks? devnote: Anticipating a nice drink Wyll: Here, a bottle is judged more by its ability to crack heads than the quality of its contents. Gale: Ah. If that's the main criteria then I shall reset my expectations accordingly. Water it is. devnote: Good humoured

—

House of Healing

Wyll: This was a hospital? Feels more like a prison. Gale: A common enough interpretation. Sickness has a nasty habit of making you feel trapped, if only within the confines of your own body. Gale: I once spent weeks convalescing in the Hospice of St Laupsenn (*) after a nasty bout of ruddy pox. For all their kindness, leaving that place behind felt like freedom to me. Wyll: I've always relied on the kindness of the healers and menders of the Coast. Better a cleric's healing touch than a chirurgeon's scalpel.

(Lore note*): The Hospice of St. Laupsenn is a temple of Ilmater in the North Ward of Waterdeep.

—

Moonrise General_AssaultState

Wyll: This is it, Gale - today, we annihilate the heart of the Absolute's power. The bards will sing of our victory here. Gale: Entirely unnecessary. Though if they are so inclined, I might be convinced to share a stanza or two of my own for inspiration. devnote: Feigned modesty

—

Moonrise General

Wyll: This is no aimless horde - the Absolute's forces are organised. What do you make of it, Gale? Gale: All enemies have some chink in their armour, no matter how much they like to believe themselves invulnerable. That's what we must find. devnote: Cheery/determined Wyll: And if we don't find any clear weakness? Gale: Then we hope our mutual strengths are enough to dominate them. Or, we die nobly in the attempt. devnote: Cheery/determined

—

Moonrise Prison

Gale: Not a devil in sight. How disappointing. COL_MizorasRescue_State_SavedMizora = False, TWN_Wyll_State_MizorasCaptureHappened, MOO_MizorasRescue_Event_WalkedAway = False Wyll: I doubt a few iron bars are sufficient to hold one of Zariel's. Gale: True enough. But an illithid pod? That would probably do the trick. devnote: Cogs whirring Wyll: I wager you're right. Ah, Gale - what a pleasure to see a genius' mind at work.

Wyll: Of course Mizora was Zariel's captured asset. How did I not see it coming? TWN_Wyll_State_MizorasCaptureHappened Gale: It's in a devil's nature to conceal the truth - you can't fault yourself for that. Wyll: I've been pacted for seven years on, Gale. I should be able to read between Mizora's lines by now, no matter how narrow the gap.

Gale: How long have you been pacted to Mizora, Wyll? Wyll: Seven years. Seven years of hunting the monsters of the Sword Coast - and seven years of Mizora's tight leash. Wyll: And seven years of wondering if I'd ever rid myself of her - or if I even should.

—

Act 03

At the Basilisk Gate

Gale: The history of the city itself is captured in the archives here - a fascinating resource. Wyll: I wonder what those archives will reveal about us a hundred years hence. Gale: Only the most excellent and complimentary things. With some encouragement from us, of course.

—

Morphic Pool

Gale: Whatever the outcome of what's just ahead, it will be the stuff of legends. Wyll: In that case, someone needs to survive to tell the story. Gale: My money's on you, Wyll. Wyll: I'm betting on all of us.

—

Misc banter

Gale's ticking time bombs

Wyll points out that Gale has two ticking time-bombs inside him - but he's holding together pretty well. Wyll: I admire your courage, Gale. Gale: Thank you. Any particular reason? Wyll: Between the orb and the bug, you've got more than your fair share of unwelcome passengers. Gale: What can I say? Mother always taught me to be a gracious host.

—

Wyll thinks Gale has potential

Wyll tells Gale he's got potential, and suggests he rename himself something more... heroic. Gale finds Wyll quite the tryhard. Wyll: You're an impressive fighter, Gale. You should consider a new name. Gale: I take it you have some suggestions? Wyll: 'The Wizard Wonder!' Or how about, 'The Master of the Weave'? Gale: Tempting. But I think we might already have the maximum number of theatrical titles.

—

With Laz'el and Wyll

Lae'zel notes that Gale knows a lot about mind flayers. He responds with information about his training. If there, Wyll chimes in as well. Lae'zel: You strike me cleverer than most istiki, Gale. Multiple tutors, I should guess. devnote: istiki - non-gith. IH-stick-ee Gale: Many a wise man and woman indeed. Waterdeep is the home of myriad scholars. Wyll: Ah, the City of Splendours. Spent a whole Fleetswake there with my father. What a delight.

—

Romance

The following dialogues are marked as ROM, which I assume is a flag for triggering when there's an active Romance with the MC.

Romance banter, Act 1

Gale: If your natural charm isn't quite up to scratch, Wyll, there are magical means of adding a little flourish of charisma. Wyll: A kind offer, but I think I'd rather pursue things the old fashioned way.

Gale: Have you noticed any attachments of the more, erm, romantic variety flourishing in our camp, Wyll? devnote: Fishing for info, a bit awkward. Wyll: I think I'm not the right person to be asking. Wyll: I can recognise a troll's silhouette on a far horizon, but I wouldn't know a flirtation if you whacked me alongside the head with it.

—

Romance banter, Act 2

Gale: I knew you were a graceful man, Wyll, but I hear you're quite the dancer too. Gale: I've been known to trip the light fantastic myself. Mine was a popular hand at the annual Blackstaff's Ball. Wyll: I'd have love to have witnessed it, Gale. I wager you are as elegant on the dance floor as you are on the battlefield.

Gale: I've heard that in Baldur's Gate, 'wizard' is also a term used for one who eschews their more, ahem, carnal desires. Is that true, Wyll? devnote: Fishing for info, a bit annoyed about what he's heard Wyll: Where are we going with this, Gale? Gale: Oh, nowhere. I just think it a rather cruel misnomer. Not at all reflective of the glamour wizarding life affords. devnote: A bit sulky/sensitive about it

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Romance banter, Act 3

Wyll: I'm probably going to regret this, but Gale - if I'm to be wed, would you like to make a speech? Gale: You've asked the right wizard. My oratory skills have left many a wedding guest weeping in their seat. devnote: Honoured/very excited at the prospect of speaking at length. Oblivious as to why his previous listeners might have been left weeping… Wyll: Promise it will last less than half an hour? Gale: I can promise it will feel like less than half an hour... devnote: Trying to avoid committing to a short speech

Wyll: I used to believe the beauty of first love was unable to be surpassed. Wyll: But Gale - you are so much more tolerable now you've found your second. Gale: I'll take that comment with the sincerity and good will I assume it was intended. devnote: Not rising to it, cheerful

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Misc quotes

Tiefling party

Gale: Wyll's a good man. He may actually be a tried-and-true storybook hero. Gale: Then again he's so full of himself it's a small miracle he hasn't resorted to self-cannibalism yet.

Wyll: You're running away from Gale's cooking. Wyll: It's delicious, don't get me wrong, but that man wouldn't eat a vegetable unless Mystra herself commanded it.

Other

Gale: So, you didn't fancy sharpening up the old moniker? I'd have thought the 'Blade of Frontiers' might be feeling a bit dull after all you've been through.

Player: Sounds heavenly. Mind if I join you? Wyll: Not at all. You hunt the deer, I'll scrounge up the ale. Prepare your belly for roast a la Ravengard! Wyll: Let's hope Gale doesn't take offence if I assume cooking duties, just the once.

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