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thinkingaboutjaedyn · 3 months

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good days [i.engen x reader]

prompt: moving on from someone you loved after they hurt you is hard, but you do it anyways.

author notes: part three and technically the last part finally! i have been so busy lately which was so annoying, but i can now sit down and write long form fics so yippie for me. enjoy it everyone!

part one: nights like this part two: could've been

GOOD DAY IN MY MIND, SAFE TO

TAKE A STEP OUT

GET SOME AIR NOW, LET YOUR EDGE OUT

TOO SOON, I SPOKE, YOU BE

HEAVY ON MY MIND

CAN YOU GET THE HECK OUT?

I NEED REST NOW, GOT ME BUMMED OUT

YOU SO, YOU SO, YOU, BABY, BABY, BABE

I'VE BEEN ON MY EMPTY MIND SHIT

the moment you landed in san diego and got into your apartment, you cried. relief and guilt washes over you as you sit on the floor (in your haste to leave, you didn't furnish the place just yet). you finally did the one thing you never thought you would be able to pull off; leaving ingrid. the weight of her lies are now off your back, but now a different weight sits there now. how could you? how could you just up and leave her with no warning. deep down you know you don't owe her anything after all the bullshit she pulled, but it's hard to think about that when you leave someone you love so deeply. it feels like you dumped her even though you two were hardly together.

ingrid's guilt tripping really has done a number on you. it's funny really, you always was the one telling her to go to therapy and now you definitely need it. maybe if you left sooner, you wouldn't be looking at different therapists in the san diego area. none look appealing to you or maybe it's just the refusal in your mind to be grouped into any type of group as your ex. it was always ingrid needs therapy, not you. now you realize having her around has impacted your mental way more than you thought. moving on is going to be a mess.

you decide to push away all these messy thoughts as you slip on your jacket; having never taken off your clothes or shoes. getting some air and looking at the new city you will be living in for an indefinite period of time is better than trying to fight against the emotions floating around your mind.

it's windy today, your hair flies around a bit as the wind hits you. the slight chill of it makes you shiver, but it's refreshing. ingrid is still weighing in on your mind as you walk around. heading to the park near your apartment building.

how was she feeling right now? what was she doing right now? has she already tried to reach you?

all these questions make you feel a bit lightheaded. how you wish you could just turn off your mind for an hour or two; get a break away from the anxiety that ingrid gifted you. it can't be helped really. you love her and that won't change for a while. you refuse to make yourself move on faster just because the relationship was a bunch of nothing; the right to dwell or not belongs to you. nobody else can dictate if you should do it faster or slower. not even the words of ingrid in your head that you can imagine her saying.

why would you do this to me?

don't you love me?

you threw everything away..

that's the ingrid that exists in your mind. all her bad moments cloud over the happy ones. you wish it was different, but it isn't.

your lips curl up into a small smile as you look at the sunset. it's beautiful with the sky being a mix of orange, pink, and blue. you use to call ingrid your sunset because just like the sunset she's gorgeous, but is only there for a bit before leaving completely. it was an endearing nickname based off feelings of annoyance and love.

this time around, the sunset is not about ingrid to you. it's about this moment. you have finally left her for good and once that sun sets fully and the moon rises, you promise to yourself to close this chapter of your life. your focus is on taking care of yourself and moving on at your pace.

once you circle back around and reach your apartment, the sun has already set. your head is feeling more empty than from before you left. is this dissociation? or is this just the feelings leaving you right now? you don't really care about it at the moment as you slip off your shoes and jacket. going into your bedroom to go lay on one of the only pieces of furniture in your apartment.

no sheets (you have to go shopping tomorrow), just a pillow. just like the blank mattress, your life is now a blank canvas for you to paint any way you want. how freeing is that.

I TRY TO KEEP FROM LOSIN'

THE REST OF ME

I WORRY I WASTED THE BEST

OF ME ON YOU, BABY

YOU DON'T CARE

SAID, NOT TRYA BE A NUISANCE,

IT'S JUST URGENT

TRYA MAKE SENSE OF LOOSE CHANGE

GOT ME A WAR IN MY MIND

GOTTA LET GO OF WEIGHT, CAN'T

KEEP WHAT'S HOLDING ME

CHOOSE TO WATCH

WHILE THE WORLD BREAK UP

AND FALL ON ME

you have a long list of worries that you carry with you throughout the day; when are you going to finally set up a therapy appointment? when is the next time you're going to see ingrid? have you lost your mind? are you ruined forever?

before you ever got involved with ingrid, you never thought about these things. it wasn't until she started to treat you like shit that all these thoughts started to invade your mind. you hate her. that you know for certain.

the fear of being forever ruined makes you contact a therapist in your area and make an appointment. refusing to be stuck in a pitiful, constantly thinking about your ex state.

you are tired of letting yourself down again and again. the mistake of not leaving ingrid the moment she showed how toxic she could be was the first of many, but now it's different. you have to do this; get some help so all these feelings can be let out somewhere.

you deserve this; this is the start of your new beginning. it won't be tainted by ingrid this time, this is all about you.

the first therapy session was exhausting. not because your therapist, ms. wright, wasn't great. the complete opposite. she was so good that suddenly all the emotions that have been building up inside of you spilled out the moment she asked what's wrong?

the internal desire to just not tell anything and be difficult was strong; a bad habit you have to shake. it's hard when in the past every time you bought up an issue to ingrid she would dismiss and deflect from it, so you just stopped trying. now you have to learn how to communicate your feelings in a healthy manner again. that they aren't miniscule, but important aspects of your being.

in the first session it's a lot of crying and not being able to say what you wanted because the words wouldn't flow out of your mouth. but still ms. wright listens and takes in every word and lets you go at your pace; this is all about you and she lets you know it.

you leave out of the modern styled clinic building with a different feeling from before. the lack of emotional weight is so freeing you want to cry again, but you have already cried enough so no tears come out as you get into your car. still there is a fight within your mind as you drive that distracts you slightly. half of your mind is still feeling guilty for just up and leaving ingrid. the other half is reminding you that she technically left you first and not once, but over and over again. why are you expected to stay, but she is free to run away from you at any moment?

you reach your apartment building after a few minutes, pulling into the parking lot. the light breeze of the san diego evening makes you smile as you get out of the vehicle. walking into the building with a small smile on your face.

healing will be a long process, but you are willing to do it. you have already taken the first step, more than ingrid has ever done for you, so it's a start. the moment your head hits the pillow you're out. for the first time in months you sleep peacefully.

ALL THE WHILE, I'LL AWAIT MY

ARMORED FATE WITH A SMILE

STILL WANNA TRY, STILL BELIEVE

IN (GOOD DAYS)

GOOD DAYS, ALWAYS (GOOD DAYS)

ALWAYS INSIDE (ALWAYS IN MY MIND,

ALWAYS IN MY MIND, MIND)

GOOD DAY LIVING IN MY MIND

TELL ME I'M NOT MY FEARS, MY LIMITATIONS

I DISAPPEAR, IF YOU LET ME

FEELING LIKE (ON YOUR OWN)

FEELING LIKE JERICHO

FEELING LIKE JOB WHEN HE LOSE HIS SHIT

GOTTA HOLD MY OWN, MY CROSS TO BEAR ALONE, I

OOH, PAID A DEAL, WAY TO KILL THE MOOD

KNOW YOU LIKE THAT SHIT, YEAH, GROOVY BABY, BABY

HEAVY ON MY EMPTY MIND SHIT

you constantly have to remind yourself that healing is a process. one that takes time, energy, and willingness. that's so hard to remember on the nights where the only image in your mind is of ingrid every time she left you to dry. the endless times she refused to make you two's relationship work, the fear that always lingers in her eyes when you would open your apartment door to let her inside. the norwegian's biggest fear was someone "catching" you two. whatever that means because at the end of the day what you two were wasn't illegal. she just made it seem like it was. perhaps for ingrid, in her mind for herself, something like that is wrong; is illegal. in the court of the public, it was worthy of punishment is probably what she thought whenever you two kissed. whenever you two cuddled. whenever you two acted like any other couple, was ingrid worrying about how it would look to others?

oh, god and every word she has spoken to you is imprinted into your mind at this point.

you know i can't

if you loved me, you would wait

i swear i love you but i just can't..

ingrid always had a thousand excuses and a thousand more lies to cover up all her problems. it didn't matter if her actions heavily affected you because it was all about her and what she feared and what she needed. what about you? you weren't a fucking robot. fears and worries clung to your conscience too. there were needs that needed to be taken care of too. but did you run and deflect at every turn? no, you wanted to sit down and talk them out like a normal couple would. too bad nothing about you two's arrangement was normal. sneaking around like romeo and juliet wasn't as thrilling as it sounded. and just like those two, you two's story ended in death. ingrid was the first to stab it and you were the one to send another stab straight into it's heart. ripping it apart into shreds until it was unreadable.

however, those nights were just moments in your new life where the past got the better of you; and that's all they would be, moments. those haunting thoughts don't push you into a corner anymore like before. outside of therapy and those late nights, ingrid is the last thing in your mind.

being around your teammates at san diego wave lightens up your day so much. a group of goofballs who refuse to let you be sad for even a second. the times after practice when you all just decide to go to dinner make all the worry in your body leave. transferring from barcelona was possibly the best decision ever for you.

you would have probably isolated yourself back in spain, not wanting to be around ingrid anymore than you have to be.

outside of your teammates, there was something else making the move to the wave worth it; someone else. a pretty journalist who you met at an interview. she wasn't even the one who was interviewing you.

you have bumped into her while looking for the bathroom. saying a quick apology after realizing you bumped into a really pretty woman. she gives you a warm smile, "it's fine" comes from her lips. why do her words sound so satisfying? before you could completely gay panic, you excused yourself and eventually found the bathroom. suddenly feeling too shy to ask that pretty brunette about where to find it.

you thought that would be the end of it. one small interaction that you forget about after a while, but no. the universe for some reason was pushing you and this woman together. she became a regular journalist for the san diego wave. you come to find out her name is julianna; how gorgeous. even when you kept seeing her around, the reminder that you needed to heal and work on your trust issues was constant in the back of your mind. but you couldn't really help it, could you? eventually you started to spend more and more time around her whenever she came around to training or at games. being the first to volunteer for an interview after a good match. it was honestly sorta embarrassing; why were you feeling all giddy like a teenager again? still julianna was still so pretty and kind and many other positive adjectives that you could think of. the woman spoke with such a tone like she was deeply interested in whoever she was talking to. strong eye contact and always having something to say that would lead the conversation to be more interesting.

soon enough the time spent around her bled into spending time outside of soccer. you took the first step one day after asking her out for coffee after a short interview. julianna laughed softly as she asked, "is this a date?" the bashful smile on your lips answered her question. she said yes; leading to one of the best dates you have ever had.

you two spent a good hour at a cafe just talking. getting to know each other outside of y'all's work personalities. the conversation was so good, you two didn't want to end so julianna suggested going to a nearby board walk; and that's exactly what you two did.

sitting beside each other on a bench on the boardwalk, overlooking the ocean. talking for hours until the sun set. it took all the resolve inside of you to not invite her over to your place. you didn't want the date to end, but that was okay as you weren't going to let it be the last.

after dropping off julianna off at her house you headed back to your apartment. a light feeling in your chest as you changed into your pajamas before laying on the couch to find a show to watch. the moments from the date replaying in your mind. you couldn't believe you have been missing out on stuff like this for so long. with ingrid a simple date like that would have never happened. it was too risky because "what if someone sees us" was always her answer whenever you asked to go anywhere outside of your or her's apartment.

it seems like it will be another one of those nights where you think about ingrid. a soft sigh escapes your lips as you reminisce. nothing could ruin how good your day was, but these thoughts were definitely darkening it. you remember the first time you built up the courage to ask ingrid out on a date.

it was around new years, spain was electric with celebration. this was around the early stages of the relationship and still you two have never been out on a proper date; and that bothered you.

you thought it was just because of the busy schedule you both had. being too tired to do anything else but a few cuddles before bed or a hug after practice before going to your two separate apartments. so as you sit next to ingrid on your couch, cuddling up to her, you ask her; "shouldn't we go for dinner. to celebrate the new year?"

the way ingrid tensed up didn't go unnoticed. you look at her confused as she says, "how about we just stay in and cook? that's more romantic, right?" the words sounded forced like that option wasn't even that appealing in all honesty. just a cover up, so she didn't have to say what she actually wanted which was no.

that moment was one that stuck with you throughout the relationship. every lie, broken promise, and lack of attention weighed heavily on you. that should have been the first sign that ingrid was ready to be in a relationship with you, but no. out of pure blind love you moved past that and agreed.

now the fear that julianna might be the same way settles in your mind. she might not have said no to a date, but what about bigger commitments? would she run just like ingrid has.

a string of anger hangs in your heart; this is so unfair. even with ingrid not around she ruins your day in a way only she can. it was fucking frustrating, you wish you didn't have to deal with all the left over baggage she left you.

an annoyed sigh leaves your lips as the sound of all american plays in the background. you decide to push your feelings away and to just indulge in a night full of watching a meaningless tv show; wanting to get annoyed at the problems in the characters lives, not your own.

and that's exactly what you did. watching random shows back to back until you drifted off to sleep.

I GOTTA KEEP FROM LOSIN'

THE REST OF ME (LOSIN' THE REST OF ME)

STILL WORRY THAT I WASTED

THE BEST OF ME ON YOU, BABE

YOU DON'T CARE

SAID, NOT TRYNA BE A NUISANCE,

IT'S JUST URGENT (IT'S URGENT)

TRYNA MAKE SENSE OF LOOSE CHANGE

GOT ME A WAR IN MY MIND (MY MIND)

GOTTA LET GO OF WEIGHT,

CAN'T KEEP WHAT'S HOLDING ME

CHOOSE TO WATCH

WHILE THE WORLD BREAK UP AND FALL ON ME

ALL THE WHILE, I'LL AWAIT MY

ARMORED FATE WITH A SMILE

STILL WANNA TRY, STILL BELIEVE IN

(GOOD DAYS, GOOD DAYS ON MY MIND)

GOOD DAYS (GOOD DAYS ON MY MIND)

ALWAYS SUNNY INSIDE (ALWAYS IN

MY MIND, ALWAYS IN MY MIND, MIND)

GOOD DAY LIVING IN MY MIND

therapy was getting better. ms. wright knew the exact words to say and the exact ways to help you with your mental state. you have started to journal at her request, at first thinking it's slightly childish. writing down all your feelings like some type of diary? you left that in highschool ages ago, but somehow that method still works when it comes to your emotions. whenever your mind felt clouded with ingrid you would write your feelings out.

not only that, but you started to run. outside of your usual workout routine and the training sessions you had as a professional footballer, you never was one to be interested in exercise. most workouts were just ways for you to keep up your physic for games; nothing more. however, running was freeing. not only mentally but physically.

just like how ms. wright has said, mental stress weighs heavily on the body. causing tension and discomfort even though it's all mental. you knew this of course but never wanted to admit how your mental health has been causing your body to feel like it's tight enough to burst at any moment. in your mind it didn't make any sense, but ms. wright reassured you that it was natural. the mind and body are undeniably connected, one will always follow the other. anyways back to running, the feeling of your body being sore as you pant was exhilarating. your chest feeling so light after each run.

you take one in the morning and one at night. making sure not to miss the run at night because that's when your emotions always get the best of you.

not only did you work on finding healthy coping mechanisms to let out your emotions, but you worked on your trust issues.

the process was dreadful.

when people say the path to healing is linear, it's true. some days you felt like you could trust anyone with anything and on others you wished you could isolate yourself from the world so you wouldn't be hurt ever again.

your therapist was there at every step. guiding you and also sometimes letting you figure out some thoughts on your own.

"why do you think i couldn't just, you know, up and leave her?" you asked one day as you sit in front of ms. wright. the tall woman smiles at you. staying silent for a moment before saying, "why do you think so?"

getting a question back for your own questions makes you frown. how were you supposed to know? the whole reason you're in therapy was for your therapist to help you out, not make you figure out issues on your own. that was your mind process at first but after leaving the appointment, you really sorta understood why ms. wright didn't just give you some answer.

there are some things in life that only you know and can answer; this is one of them. you didn't want to sit around or even journal about the why. instead you go for a run. it was around time for your evening run anyways, so why now kill two birds with one stone?

the thoughts flow easily as you step out onto the trail. ready to go down your usual path. the why doesn't come immediately, but you think about your feelings for ingrid again.

it wasn't a lie to say that you loved ingrid. that you were in love with her. why else would you fight for her so badly? not even in just a romantic sense. before you two dated, you were obviously teammates and had a sorta close relationship. hanging out outside of practice with the other barcelona players often. talking about current shows and books that you both liked. it wasn't your fault that you fell in love with the friend version of ingrid. who would have thought she would be so different as a girlfriend?

perhaps that's why you clung on. you hoped, no, begged that that version of ingrid that you knew in the past would come back. that it was deep inside of her and just needed some pulling to come out. you just had to fight for it and throughout all that effort, it would appear. which wasn't true in the slightest. the ingrid from before wasn't the one you knew throughout that time where you two hid and snuck around; you should had known.

well, you just found your why. you smile as you finish your run, turning back around to walk to your car.

did you just realize you were chasing after someone who didn't exist, to you at least, anymore? yeah.

would this realization haunt you for the rest of your life? maybe so..

but still you felt lighter. not just physically, but mentally. the sun looked brighter as it set low in the sky.

god, how gorgeous life is when you aren't chasing after broken dreams. after something that doesn't and will never exist again.

why do you feel so free?

GOTTA GET RIGHT, TRYNA FREE

MY MIND BEFORE THE END OF THE WORLD

I DON'T MISS NO EX, I DON'T MISS NO TEXT

I CHOOSE NOT TO RESPOND

I DON'T REGRET, JUST PRETEND

SHIT NEVER HAPPENED

HALF OF US LAYIN' WASTE TO OUR YOUTH,

IS IN THE PRESENT

HALF OF US CHASIN' FOUNTAINS OF

YOUTH AND IT'S IN THE PRESENT NOW

ALWAYS IN MY MIND, ALWAYS IN MY MIND, MIND

YOU'VE BEEN MAKING ME FEEL LIKE I'M

ALWAYS IN MY MIND, ALWAYS IN MY MIND, MIND

you post julianna on your instagram after four months of being together. she has asked you after a nice dinner date that ended in a walk near the beach. you remember feeling so special, like a priority when she pulled you close by the waist. her hand gently caressing the skin that was exposed there. a warm look in her eyes as she smiles at you. "can i be your girlfriend?" the brunette asked. giggling once you just pulled her into a kiss. no words needed.

back to hard launching you two's relationship, it was a whole new feeling. a mix of uncertainty and happiness was floating around in your heart. what if julianna changed her mind? that she didn't want to publicly claim you? that would definitely drive you insane, but it was the complete opposite. julianna was fine with you posting a picture of you two; the picture is from one of the earlier dates y'all went on. you're holding her face as you kiss the tip of her nose. she's smiling, her hands holding onto your waist.

you could finally do normal couple things like post about cute dates and funny off guard photos and walk around in public while holding hands. there was no risk attached to it. no "we can't let them know" coming from julianna. she was happy to hold your hand and give you a small peck on the cheek while out. the lack of shame was refreshing.

the teasing comments from your teammates on how you charmed the team's journalist away were slightly annoying, but it was all in good fun.

life was truly looking up. your therapy sessions were centered around just ingrid based issues anymore, but others you have been needing help with. ms. wright was one stable support pillar in your life who consoled you for everything; especially the pressure from being a footballer in the limelight. san diego was really shaping up to be your home.

the day you heard about ingrid's new relationship was a day that you wish you could forget. it was a late saturday night, you had just got off a facetime call with julianna who was away in france for some press work. scrolling through instagram, seeing a post about ingrid and mapi dating on your feed. it wasn't some speculation post but one that was completely official. a photo that was obviously posted on one of their instagrams.

that single photo almost made you throw your phone against the wall.

after all the fighting and struggle.

all the begging and trying to help her face her fears.

all it took for ingrid to be open was for her to date someone else? that's all it was? so was it really just an "afraid of being open" thing or a you thing?

a sense of anger hits you. the audacity for her to move on after everything she put you through was laughable. of course you didn't expect her to sit around, crying over the relationship forever. that wasn't realistic or healthy, but you just didn't get it.

what was wrong with you? why couldn't she do that for you?

then came the rush of guilt; you had no reason to be angry. you had moved on, so why couldn't she? it was a double standard that you didn't want to touch on.

it took two hours of journaling to get your feelings sorted out. that sense of anger was just from feeling like this whole situation is unfair. ingrid refused to be public with you; claiming to be afraid, but pops out with mapi? you should be happy for her. that obviously means the norwegian went and got help like you always told her to. she had finally faced her fears.

but you are healing, not healed so you allow yourself to fully stick with your emotions. watching trashy rom coms while thinking about that post.

the next day, you slowly but surely got over it. once you talked to julianna in the morning your feelings were quite small about that lil reveal post. who cares if ingrid moves on? you have moved on too! this is for the best, so you shouldn't care so much about it. at least you wouldn't have to see her any time soon.

or so you thought.

you became a puma athlete only recently after your partnership with adidas ended. puma had the bigger offer, so you went ahead and signed the deal. the athletic brand wanted you to come to an event for their new campaign and you obviously didn't refuse. throwing on a gorgeous dress along with having julianna help you do your hair; keep cute giggles still in your mind as you sat at one of the tables in the large room.

there were many other athletes here, not just footballers. some you knew and others you didn't. it was nice to see players you haven't seen in forever. expect for one in particular.

you were daydreaming about what to do when you went back home. already about to grab your phone to text julianna when you looked up and saw her.

ingrid was sitting at a table across from yours; enjoying some pasta. she looked just the same as when you left her. just as pretty. hopefully not as toxic. your eyes must have been burning her hole through her as she finally looks up and sees you. her eyes dilating slightly as you two hold eye contract.

you're the first to break it. not being able to stand looking into her eyes for any longer. those same eyes that always held fear in them were different now. beside the opposite panic in the norwegian's eyes, there was something else. sprinkles of happiness in her eyes. the sound of a chair moving and steps passing your table snap you out of your thoughts.

ingrid was heading towards the bathroom. should you follow her or would that be weird? with how she looked back at you, maybe she had something to say. did you want to listen? you don't know, so you stand up and follow after her. of course letting a few minutes pass before following; no one could know, right?

once you walk into the bathroom you can hear the water running. ingrid is putting some water on her face. you had to say something to get her attention since she definitely didn't think you would go after her.

"i didn't expect to see you again," you say softly. she gives you a glance, obviously about to say something. the surprise that comes into your mind once she starts apologizing is hard hitting. you never thought she would apologize; that wasn't the type of closure you thought you would ever get.

hearing her apologize and put all the blame on her should be satisfying. finally should be sitting in your mind in bold letters, but it wasn't. after all the therapy and finding someone else, an apology wasn't something you wanted anymore.

"i don't forgive you," the words come out of your mouth easily. you never thought you would ever be able to say that to her; in the past you always ran to forgive her and just forget. not this time around. the small disappointment in her eyes makes you almost reconsider, but no. you have a right to not accept an apology. "but i'm glad you got help. finally," you say genuinely.

you two just stare at each other before you turn and leave out of the bathroom. not wanting to deal with the awkward silence anymore.

ingrid has done it; gave you the thing you needed and wanted from her. and you didn't even accept it.

why was that so freeing to do?

the apology wasn't the closure, being able to give ingrid the rejection and disappointment you experienced from her countless times before was the closure.

you're officially over ingrid engen.

#ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen #woso x reader #woso fanfics #norwnt #barcelona femeni

165 notes · View notes

chiyoso · 9 months

Text

IMPERFECTIONS YOU LOATHE

▶PLAY. jing yuan can't wrap his head about it. who would've thought that acne will be the one to defeat you in body, and mind? it's just simply... baffling, for someone like him.

▶CONTENT. female reader, suggestive, reader is a lieutenant for jimg yuan, realistic interactions, romantic tension, subtle self insecurity, flirting, jing yuan's just confused

you were someone who worked under the arbiter general for quite a long time, you've fought a good amount of battles in your long lifespan, be it may from the corrosions of abundance, or the rare hoardes of enemies from the anti-matter legion, it didn't matter, you emerged victorious in every battle you participated in.

akin to your victories, there was this untouchable enemy that troubled you immensely today, an enemy you can never, ever beat by your skilled hand, growing and tormeting you from the inside as you look at the reflection of yourself, the negative emotions and accumulated stress, manifesting into reality, into your... flesh.

dawn in the next day, the cloud knights who fall under your command, took notice the black mouth veil along with your outfit change to fit the uncharacteristic cover over half of your face, you were beautiful nonetheless, strong in both will and physicality, but even then, no one will be able to undermine the hidden turmoil underneath your veil, your radiance, or so you internally claim.

you hear your name slip through a familiar voice during one of your training sessions with the cloud knights, looking over your shoulder to see your highly regarded general, moving towards you with his signature glaive in his hand.

“hm, you certainly never fail to continue surprising me, captain.” the general's lips grows into a faint smirk, referring to your mouth veil and complimenting outfit in contrast to your usual breezy, fit for rough sparring previously.

your relationship with the general had been proven professional with a sense of rivalry and a slight growing admiration as time continues to flow, except... today.

“general.” you greeted, arms crossed valiantly with your gaze continuing to loom over the cloud knights below, training their asses off with your eyes dead set on the field, which felt more intimidating and penetrating as it was the most visible thing from the veil you put on.

“you rang, general?” your eyes narrow slightly, only to be met with his free hand moving towards your mouth veil.

“hm.” a hum of amusement, you hear from the general, feeling the lingering curious gaze of his over your form, in a respectful way of course.

you think.

“to what pleasure do i owe from the visiting, fleeting arbitrator general of the luofu?” your tone carried a slight hint of mirroring amusement and sarcasm, earning a warm, uncommon chuckle from the general.

“captain,” his tone became lower, your gaze finally breaking from the scenery and towards the general's direction to heed his call.

tch. your honed instincts and reflexes itch, your hand suddenly grabbing his wrist, your eyes telling a thousand words not to reach out further while his only show genuine bafflement, following a curiousity after.

“i implore my general to... not do such a thing again,” you hissed, your monotonous tone slick with slight hostility and maintained professionalism.

once again?

your general, huh? his internal thoughts lingered to your words and actions, before retracting his hand from your releasing grasp.

“apologies... but,” he tilts his head to the side with that knowing, charming smile of his.

“surely you cannot blame your general for having his interests piqued today once again, hm?”

you showed annoyance, clicking your tongue with your brows furrowed during your hold on your flowing cover. “captain,” the general called your title once again, your attention caught, darting your eyes to the man nearing your veil, curious, golden irises studying you while you had a moment to yourself.

“... i don't know what you mean, general.” your voice softened, hinted with an amuse once more, feigning ignorance to the most obvious elephant in the room; your choice of attire today.

your gaze returns to the training grounds, only to be met with a strong, accursed breeze of the luofu that wavered the cover on your face, your hand immediately moving towards your mouth veil to secure any type of movement, intriguing the general further.

then with his veteran gaze, he notices it, the battle you hid across your face.

“ah,” “don't.” you immediately cut him off, tone coated with a little more hostility than before, your hands finding its way to his chest to push him away from your personal space respectfully, but he doesn't budge to your nudge, for a few long moments, the two of your eyes searched each other, one of curiousity, and the other of uncertainty.

jing yuan didn't understand one bit, he did not have a logical answer for himself as to why such a trivial thing can weaken such a strong woman who stood by beside him through countless immortal battles, countless victories, losses, it didn't make sense to the curious general as to why she would hide the missed view of her endearing— endearing?

“even the strongest of warriors... can still fall victim to nature of woman hm?” he broke the silence, stepping back from you in respect to your resistance and unwillingness of closeness.

“i-” silence. your expression was faltering from the mention of your troubles, even behind the veil you hid, your turmoil was clear.

the sounds of clashing, groans from the cloud knights, your deep, quiet breaths, and gulps only ensued, that's what you were doing for a little bit while the general only glanced back and forth towards you and the training grounds.

“cloud knights! at ease! take a break, all of you.” your powerful, commanding voice cut his train of thought, your voice ringing through the field, catching the undivided attention through the people who fall in your command, all simultaneously replying with a loud “yes captain!”

“general,” your tone of slight vulnerability in contrast to your powerful voice was met with his eyes to yours again.

“what are you here f—”

“why do you hide behind a mere cloth that hinders my ability to see you in your full glory?”

what? your thoughts raced like the strong currents in scalesgorge waterscapes, as well as feeling the warmth that you haven't felt in a long while grow within your cheeks.

“i will never understand why women fall and weaken under the natural biologies of the human body,” he said, moving towards you again, towering your form, locking his golden gaze with yours.

the two of the most strongest of figures, the highest of reputations, having a moment of uncharacteristic matured intimacy, witnessed by the strong breeze and the select few of prying eyes from the cloud knights, all witnessing his act of closeness.

“but it doesn't mean i, will feign ignorance to whatever chaos that resides within you, of course.” he tilted his body, your knuckles met his lips in a sudden motion, yet his eyes remained onto your veiled, flushing face.

“my deepest, most sincerest apologies to you for any negativity i invoked within you, my captain.”

his lips lingered to your skin, his eyes searching for any reaction, an indication to stop—but you don't retract, instead your gaze remained on his, softening with each passing second.

“stand tall, general...” you said softly, something the general hadn't heard from you for awhile, only to do your bidding with your hand still in his grasp.

“i've never heard you say my name in our time of longevity together, captain.” he chuckled, growing fonder of you, and his thumb subconsciously rubbing your flesh was proof.

you flinch in result of instinct and a sudden touch that neared your veil, but only that, he only traced his callused fingers along the laced, intricate cloth, his eyes never leaving yours in study of you with fascination and a hidden, growing admiration that even the general was unaware of.

then it happens.

your eyes linger a little too long on the features around his face, the piercing, unreadable gaze in his eyes, the texture of his fair skin, his locks that were flowing against the wind—ah, he has a beauty mark? h-

“gener—”

“jing yuan, my captain.” he insisted.

“someone of your caliber shouldn't cower away from the wrath of mother nature, you are far more superior,” he pauses, retracting his hand from the fabric, his gaze following the wind towards the training grounds, glaive downwards onto the platform where both of you stood, his hands both at the circular tip of the hilt.

“... a woman, labored with strength, hardship, and an allure, an enchantment that many fall and succumb to,” his breath got caught in his throat, perhaps realizing in this moment that he was maybe talking about himself in the last parts of his own open, honest words.

“you- you jest, gener-... jing yuan...” you mumbled, disbelief playing in your mind.

“do you know me as a jokester, valiant captain of mine?” he replies with a realization to his own words, chuckling after and, subconsciously fidgeting with his knuckles with his thumb brushing against it.

and you took notice to his mannerisms of course.

jing yuan was someone who didn't take matters such as this lightly, and you knew that full well since spending your immortality beside the general through rigorous training and honing your weapons together.

to sparring numerous times alone in one of the platforms in the divination commission.

to taking your hand in battle and performing a dance of death towards the enemies of the abundance

to claiming victory with him by your side, along with the little lieutenant yanqing and madam yukong's presence.

eons worth of defenses were being torn down in both sides unknowingly from that simple yet quite impactful act of his, but neither waver and fall weak into each others reeling gaze, standing tall and strong with radiating auras of unspoken attraction and endearment towards another, even if the circumstances were still brewing.

all was good, lasting satisfactory, fleeting moments, fleeting lonely moments, moments of tranquility and silence, days that lingered and crept up in your soul, a silence that deafened you from time to time and—“captain?” the general whispered once more of many times to regain your focus and attention to him, brushing off strands of your hair, tucked behind your ear as your irises return to the figure that towered before you.

“jing y—”

“capta—”

a fleeting silence with widened eyes followed both of your simultaneous voices, not long after sounds of genuine laughter of amusement fill the air with a strengthening admiration and sentiment to one another.

“you first, my lady.”

“i was about to say the same thing.”

“without the my lady part anyways,” you continued, bringing a hand over your veil to stifle a full chuckle.

“then,” his free hand slithered towards your lower back, making your cheeks flare up in heat as the sphere end of his glaive met your stomach lightly in a teasing manner, his lips mirroring your uncontrollable grin.

“i planned on sparring with yanqing today, but the little bird told me he had matters to tend to,” you tilt your head, interested in his actions, and where this leads.

“oh? quite unfortunate for you, general.” you mirror his tone with a little more dramatics as you place your knuckles on your forehead, your antics amusing the general further (as well as making him subconsciously smitten).

“unfortunate indeed, my lady.” he leaned closer with his signature, charming smile that was quite different, hinted with a hidden undertone of tenderness, his physique almost barely touching yours from your inviting, mischievous demeanor.

“however, you...” he lifted his arm, the sharp edge of his weapon pointed towards the training grounds, eyes determined and locked to your growing smirk.

“would you be so kind and generous to indulge your general in a spar, valiant valkyrie of the luofu?” he asked, tone coated with noticable playfulness, itching you to do the same.

“it depends general, do you promise not to slice my veil into pieces?" you mused, indulging yourself with his apparent playfulness.

"it was quite pricey you know? along with this outfit of mine of course,” you observed from his obvious gazes to your veil, your keen intuition leaving the general in his slight amazement and surprise.

“i can't even fanthom how you didn't take up the offer to be a diviner like fu xuan,” he said jokingly, lowering his glaive yet the smile only grew further on his lips.

“you read my mind as always, but can you blame your general?” his hand from your lower back moved up to touch the soft fabric of the lace that covered your face that he unknowingly longed to see.

“the darkness that looms half over of your features distracts me more than my taxing paperwork that awaits me in a later time,” he continued, his tone audibly serious this time with a slight frown forming on his face.

god.

except... the arbiter general finds himself in the same situation, subconsciously stealing glances towards you with heavy to minimal intent at times, asking for your presence through his lieutenant, sitting together at the edges of the divination commission's platform after an intense spar, sharing a glass of warm halycon milk, and the serene, comfortable silence that you two continued to share in many moments over the centuries...

“you will be the death of me, yuan.” you sigh in defeat to his enchanting words, while he only perked up to the nickname you uttered out.

it's true though, you've noticed a pattern over the years staying beside the general, you notice yourself holding back your full strength during mid sparring sessions with him to maintain a level of feminity, a feminity you yearned for since being one of the strong, leading figures along the general that you rose to with effort and relentless hardwork.

...

“apologies, i-”

the more he thinks back, the more cogs turned viciously in his mind, if the situated ordeals are with purpose, or... had everything felt natural with her since the beginning when it came to this astonishing, compelling and shining force of nature that shone over the luofu.

a prowess that—“jing yuan?” you called out again, hushed and soft, your voice carried, finally catching the attention of the man who was visibly in deep thought.

he didn't notice finger that poked his cheek lightly, accompanied with your innocent, confused look that he almost choked to in his throat.

“how about that spar, general?”

his eyes widened to your words, shortly before breaking into a wide, satisfied smirk, grabbing your hand that was near his face, continuing to hover you.

“only if you remove your veil-”

“no.”

“then i shall hold back.”

“oh? then please do my general, so i can set the stage of your devastating defeat against my blade, all for the cloud knights in the area who look up to their beloved, arbiter general of the great xianzhou luofu to bear witness to.”

he blinks to your words, two times, maybe three times, before breaking into a wide, uncontrollable grin, taking a step towards you with his head looking over yours.

“... little vixen.”

“your words, my general.”

reblogs help my audience reach, thank you.

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mmmichyyy · 11 days

Note

40? for the prompt

#40. "am i your husband or your taxi service?"

the first time it happens, mickey doesn't think much of it.

can you pick me up after my shift? too tired to take the L

when mickey is near the station, he parks the van a block away. force of habit from when he and his brothers used to sneak up and collect from people who owed terry money. plus, he doesn't particularly want ian's coworkers to see their stolen ambulance, even though it's completely unrecognizable after debbie helped them revamp the entire thing and paint over it with the logo sandy designed.

here

i don't see you

i'm parked a block away

pick me up at the station

your legs don't work?

i'm tired :(

i drove the van

it's fine no one will be able to tell lol

mickey rolls his eyes and drops his phone in the cupholder. as he pulls up across the street from the station, he sees ian standing on the curb, chatting with someone wearing a matching EMT uniform, a shorter man with tan skin and curly hair.

mickey honks once, a bit impatient since he's hungry as fuck and there's a large pizza he ordered earlier waiting for them at their apartment. ian lifts his head and smiles. as he waves goodbye to his coworker and jogs over to the van, mickey doesn't miss the way the dude is gaping at mickey with wide eyes and a dropped jaw.

the hell is this guy's problem?

"everything okay?" mickey asks, once ian buckles his seatbelt and reclines his seat.

"just tired." ian yawns. "had a long shift today."

"well," mickey puts the van in drive, reaching over the center console to ruffle ian's hair, promptly forgetting ian's weird coworker, "i already ordered a pizza so we can eat then turn in early."

ian smiles sleepily and interlaces his fingers with mickey's. "you're the best husband ever."

mickey shakes his head, biting back a smile. "sappy fucker."

after almost two weeks of ian asking to be picked up, mickey suspects something is up. not that he minds or anything, since he makes his own schedule nowadays. after the security business started turning a profit and ian went back to being an emt, he hired a couple of guys to drive the routes so he could work from home and catch up on admin work, freeing up a lot of time in his day to day.

but ian never used to mind the commute. he's the kind of long-legged freak who liked to take the scenic route and go on long runs in the morning, just for fun. absolutely deranged behaviour, in mickey's opinion. but lately, ian has been flashing his kicked-puppy eyes and asking to be chauffeured like a pampered prince and, well. mickey could never resist spending more time with his husband, so he hasn't said anything. not yet, anyway. god he's so whipped.

the excuses ian came up with, however, were more unbelievable as it went on, ranging from the train broke down (mickey knew for a fact it didn't), to spraining his elbow (though he had no problem throwing mickey on the bed later that night with his supposedly injured arm), to how it was going to rain later (it was sunny all day without a cloud in sight).

when mickey tried to call him out on his bullshit, ian either got down on his knees or flipped mickey over and fucked him senseless into the bed, promptly making mickey forget what the hell he was trying to say.

it's gotten to the point where ian stopped making excuses and simply asked mickey to come get him. which truthfully, mickey doesn't mind at all. but he just finds it odd how his beefy athletic husband had gotten so lazy.

"what's with you?" mickey finally asks one day, as ian climbs into the passenger seat.

ian blinks innocently. "what do you mean, dear husband of mine?"

mickey rolls his eyes. "am i your husband or your fuckin' taxi driver? 'cause i've been picking your ass up every day for the past two weeks when you have two perfectly functioning legs."

ian huffs, crossing his arms. "maybe i just want to spend more time with you."

"we live together," mickey points out flatly, "how much more time do you need?"

"i–"

a tap on the glass interrupts them, and mickey turns to see a woman with brown hair tied back in a ponytail, enthusiastically gesturing at him to roll down the window.

"the fuck?" mickey turns to ian, whose face has turned slightly pink. "did you forget something at the station?"

"ah, no." ian scratches his head sheepishly. "sue is just being... sue."

sue waves her hand again and mickey reluctantly lowers the window.

"mickey, this is sue, my supervisor, and sue, this is–"

"the elusive husband." sue grins. "i've heard a lot about you, mickey."

mickey raises his brow. "have you now."

"oh sure," she says, ignoring ian's frantic head shaking, "ian won't shut up about you, yapping on and on about mickey this and mickey that. we're all jealous at the station actually, everyone just complains about their partners while ian keeps gushing about how perfect and amazing his husband is. his words."

"huh." that explains a lot, actually, why there was always someone different waiting with ian every time he came to pick him up, and why they all stared at him like a circus freak. "well, i bet ian didn't tell you the time we stole an ambu–"

"okay," ian cuts in loudly, reaching over to turn the key in the ignition, "we're leaving. i'll see you tomorrow, sue."

"come to the company picnic next month," sue calls out. "it's a potluck and everyone is bringing their family. it'll be fun!"

"uh sure," mickey says, even though a social gathering with ian's nosy coworkers sounds like the least fun thing he's ever heard of. he looks over at ian, slumped in his seat, avoiding mickey's eyes. "I'll check my schedule."

once mickey drives around the corner, he playfully flicks his finger at ian's temple and ian rolls his eyes, shaking his head.

"you yap about me to your coworkers," mickey teases. "you're so fuckin' whipped."

"whatever," ian grumbles. "stupid sue calling me out."

"is that why you keep asking me to pick you up?" mickey asks, amused. "to parade me around like a little show dog?"

"well, eduardo blabbed to everyone he saw you, then everyone kept asking about you and wanted to see you in person, so..."

"hm." mickey reaches over and brushes his thumb over ian's palm. "what do you say about me?"

ian links their fingers together and sighs. "that you're attentive. funny. caring. protective. loyal. the ideal man."

mickey laughs. "you're really overselling me here, gallagher. did you forget i'm an ex-convict, pimp and drug dealer?"

ian waves him off and continues. "kind. loving. perfect in every single way, except when you leave your socks on the floor. oh and that you're hot as hell with an ass that won't quit."

"you talked about my ass?"

"okay, i didn't say the last part," ian amends, "your ass belongs to just me. but i meant everything else i said."

"you really are a sappy fucker."

"you love it."

"i'd love it even more if i didn't have to be your chauffeur every day, at least they get paid to drive back and forth."

"you come with me to the picnic, i'll pay you with favours in bed. i'll even throw in a big tip."

"a big tip, huh..."

#here's a fluffy fic for you anon 😌✨#gallavich ficlet #ian x mickey #michy ficlet #gallavich fic #my words #gallavich

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awoogayanderes · 1 year

Text

SLOW DANCING WITH THEM

➪ requests : “Slow dance with tecchou and anyone else you wants please ^^” - anonymous

➪ characters : Tecchou Suehiro, Osamu Dazai, Chuuya Nakahara, Ryūnosuke Akutagawa, Fyodor Dostoevsky

➪ other notes : i love this prompt so i added a bunch of characters, some characters may be ooc, apologies

Tecchou Suehiro :

- tecchou isn’t really a dancer per se, he just doesn’t have the time for it

- but when you asked him to dance with you at a wedding, he couldn’t refuse you

- despite what i said before, he’s not that bad of a dancer

- he stepped on your toes a bit but other than that, he went with the flow

- he can’t help but look at you in awe, a small blush spreading though his face

- “ow tecchou,” you wince as he stepped on you

- “i’m sorry honey,” he apologizes, pulling you closer to him

- “i didn’t think you’d say yes,” you say as you touch the three spots under his eye

- “i’ll always say yes to you,” he mumbles and you smile

- this is probably one of the only times where he’s completely focused on you and not small details around the world

Osamu Dazai :

- what doesn’t this bastard know what to do

- something deep in my soul tells me that he likes to salsa dance

- anyways, this was after the ada defeated the guild, during the boat party

- when a romantic song started playing, dazai grabbed your hand lifting you up

- he loves having these soft and quiet moments with you despite his chaotic personality

- “i didn’t know you were such a good dancer,” you tease as he twirls you around

- “i couldn’t help myself with how ravishing you look tonight,” he flirts

- “thank you ‘samu, for everything,” you say getting slightly sentimental

- he hums smiling as he gives you a soft kiss as the song ends

- he’s honored to have you in his arms, twirling you, even if these moments are rare, he’s always willing to show you he cares even if its through odd ways

Chuuya Nakahara :

- he has two left feet when he’s sober, but when he’s drunk he can dance for hours

- my god this man sweats when he dances

- the port mafia decided to throw a celebration after a successful difficult mission

- after a few (many) glasses of wine, he asks you to dance with him, more like forces you to dance with him

- you’re pulled closer to him as a slow song starts playing, “hmph” he hiccups

- “i can tell you’re having fun,” you take his hat and put it on your own head

- he clicks his tongue at the action before saying “i’m just loosening up, since you always tell me i’m being uptight or stiff”

- “well i’m not wrong am i?” his cheeks turn into a bright pink when you peck him on the lips

- as the song ends, he carefully dips you, giving you a proper drunken kiss

- even when he’s drunk, he just wants to sweep you off your feet, his mind only being clouded with you as your body radiates heat to him

Ryūnosuke Akutagawa :

- if you think this man can dance, you’re fooling yourself silly

- he has no rhythm, even if its slow dancing

- he was very hesitant accepting your idea of dancing, even in the privacy of your own home with all the curtains shut

- you’d think he’d want some type of music, wrong, he tells you he wouldn’t be able to concentrate which leads both of you to dance in silence

- “you can breathe you know,” you quietly say as you notice your boyfriend’s awkward stance

- “i don’t know what joy you find in this,” he says but now he’s more relaxed

- “i just like doing things with you,” you say smiling as you touch his hair lightly

- “the hell you put me through,” he says despite his hands tightening on you

- “thank you ryū,” you smile as you pull him closer to you, enough to hear his fast heart

- he wants to try new things for you, he tries to be a better boyfriend and even if it’s just dancing, if it makes you happy, he’s satisfied

Fyodor Dostoevsky :

- surprisingly this man knows a thing or two about dancing, he’s not completely clueless

- i feel like this would be one of the few things he does to show he still cares about you

- sometimes passing the time in a closed off place is hard for you, and fyodor knows that so why not humor both of you

- “milaya?” he offers his hand when tchaikovsky starts playing

- “fedya, i don’t think we can slow dance to this,” you say as the music starts getting more intense

- “anything is possible when you put your mind to it my dear,” he says, spinning you

- “you’re awfully romantic today fedya,” you say as he dips you to the after climax of the song

- “am i?” he says in a teasing tone questioning you but smiling

- once you pull him closer to you, his face can’t help but feel hot, not used to this feeling

- fyodor loves you, he does, he just sucks at expressing it, so he resorts to actions like dancing that feels intimate

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dragons-and-handcuffs · 2 months

Note

While Lady Velaryon is hidden away on Dragonstone these many months, Aemond has been fighting in the war. It drags on, painfully. Some days truthfully, Aemond has begun to question why to continue the fight.

Everything made sense to him before. The family. His place in it. Duty. It was all so easy. Until her. How can he live with his duty… if he loses her?

A traitor to every ideal he thought he had. Every ideal he was taught. Surely there’s no way out of this. If he stops fighting, he knows it will mean his end. But as time passes, a silent truth creeps into him. He would happily go to his end, if only he can kiss her lips once more before it all.

This is the state in which he meets his dear uncle in. Far less smug than Daemon expected. Instead he’s somber. Almost as if…. He knows he may go to his death. Months before, he was confident. If he faced his uncle, he was sure he’d be strong enough. Now…. None of it matters.

Not a hint of mockery. Nothing in his face but sincerity. It catches Daemon off guard. As they ride up into the clouds, so certain at least one of them rides to their death.

Still, fierce and terrifying is the battle. But as Daemon moves, his sword aimed for his nephew’s one good eye, to deliver the killing blow….

One cannot say why. Anyone would assume it was a clear shot. Aemond would be dead. Falling into the lake along with his dragon. Perhaps an uncharacteristic moment of hesitation in Daemon. Perhaps Aemond moved his head just enough at the last minute. Or perhaps, just a twist of fate. Dark Sister does not find its mark in Aemond’s skull. Instead slashing the side of his face. But though his other eye isn’t lost, his ear was not similarly spared.

The histories differ. Some say after both men fell into the lake, Aemond cut his saddle and used what strength he could to swim to shore. And some say Daemon’s mercy was why his saddle was cut….

But as Aemond, blood running down his shoulder, gets his bearings on shore, he’s put face to face with his uncle’s blade. Looking up into his eyes…. His death is all but assured.

Aemond shocks his uncle then. His face finds composure. All the feeling draining from him. Instead giving one look to him. He’s ready for death.

“Why.”

Daemon asks.

“Why boy, is your death so easy to accept?”

Aemond speaks simply.

“I lost care for my own life many months past…. If nothing else uncle, grant me this before my death.” His composed voice instead almost shakes. “Lady Velaryon…. Tell me she’s well. And… give her… my apology. For the promises I made and did not keep. Please.”

Daemon freezes, caught completely off guard. Staring down at his nephew he looks for any trace of the fierce and intelligent threat that he once was…. Yet that’s not the man before him. In his mind Daemon finally connects it.

“It’s you… isn’t it? The father.” He speaks almost in disbelief.

“Father….?” That word makes Aemond look up in complete confusion.

Daemon is many things. He supposes to call him cruel wouldn’t be a complete lie. There’s many a thing he’s done no doubt the gods have gasped at. But….

“You’re going to stand. And walk. You’re a prisoner of war now and you’ll stand trial before your Queen.”

It’s hardly an act of mercy to some. But it’s the most mercy Daemon will grant him. He will go to Dragonstone in chains. But Daemon knows what waits for him there. Aemond will owe him a life debt times two perhaps.

Dragonless, now missing an ear along with his eye, and a prisoner of the blacks. That is the state in which former prince Aemond Targaryen arrives at Dragonstone. He would hold his chin high. Were it under any other circumstance. The first time he sees his love again, and she will see him disgraced and in chains. But when they return…. They find fewer people greeting them than expected. Aemond finds himself face to face instead with Baela. There is shock in her eyes. And then anger. But then… she seems to relent something. He almost sees worry. Why is Baela worried exactly….

Perhaps it was seeing Daemon fly off. Knowing he goes to face Aemond. Perhaps all the stress of these months finally caught up to the Lady Velaryon. But her labors finally began.

Long into the day, she paced her chambers, trying to take comfort in the midwives. Baela and Rhaena were with her when it happened. But they couldn’t be here now. It was too close to their mother…. Rhaenyra herself stepped in. Knowing the pain very well.

But the lady was inconsolable. She cried not only from the pain of the body, but in her heart. She’s laboring alone, having the child of the enemy Daemon rode off to kill. Her poor fatherless child. And she feels she brought this doom upon them. She’s here now. Hours she labors. Exhaustion beginning to weigh on her. Rhaenyra tries to offer SOME comfort. But it’s clear as her labors become more difficult, it reminds Rhaenyra too much of the stillbirth of her daughter.

Long into the day, and soon into the night she struggles. Rhaenyra tries to come back to life. Holding her hand and encouraging her to push. Telling her she can bring this child forth.

But the lady only cries.

“I want my love! I wish he was here with me… I’m not strong enough alone! Instead I am to have a fatherless child! If I even have one…” She laments. Rhaenyra sees her losing her nerve.

But…. In the candlelight, in this chamber with only worried midwives and a distraught laboring woman, a new fave enters. A face that shocks all in the room.

Aemond. Standing in the door. He’s followed closely and watched by Daemon, despite his visible discomfort at the scene in this room. Aemond is disheveled. His ear is hastily bandaged. His clothing a mess. His wrists with chains.

But his eyes…. They hold only love. A euphoria at seeing her again. A desperation. And fear. He returns to her now, seeing her trying to birth a child he didn’t know she was carrying. His child.

He wastes no time in being at her side. Brushing her hair out of her sweat covered face.

“A-Aemond? You’re alive…. You’re alive, oh this must be a cruel trick…. I’m dying and the gods sent you.”

“No.” Tears are almost coming to him now. “No my girl, I’m alive. You are not dying. But please. You need to fight. I know you must have been fighting so long but just a little longer. You need to… for our child, can you do that my love?”

Despite Aemond’s comforting words, his heart is full of fear. He sees the faces of the midwives. He knows if the child doesn’t come fully soon, she’ll lose her strength. He knows soon he may still face the harsh consequences for his actions against the blacks…. But just for now. He’s with his love. For the first time in months. And all he wants is for her to live.

“Come on my brave girl. Just push.” He holds her hand tightly and kisses her forehead. She squeezes his hand back, holding onto him and crying out, as she struggles and fights. Her baby’s father is here now…. She just needs to manage.

And as Aemond holds onto her for support… the Lady Velaryon’s labors finally come to an end. When a tiny cry is heard throughout the room. Small. But strong. She’s done it.

Aemond can’t stop from crying then. Kissing her and holding her like he wanted so long to do again. All while praising her for her strength.

Rhaenyra steps back for a moment. Standing close to the door with Daemon. They both watch Aemond carefully. For now… they don’t interfere.

As the baby is placed on their mother’s chest, and she wraps her arms around them. Smiling and holding them close. Remarking affectionately that she can swear they have Aemond’s nose. Aemond is frozen. Looking down at the child. Their child. His child… he’s a father.

He reaches out and brushes a finger against their cheek. Unexpectedly the little creature grabs it, gripping onto his finger tightly as they blink their curious eyes. Still drawing in their environment. Their eyes aren’t good enough yet to see far. Not enough to see their father’s face break out in a smile.

Gently he lifts them in his arms. Holding them close.

“Oh my child…. If only I’d known…” Carefully he rocks them. “I wish I could promise you…. That things will be well after this. I wish…. I could even say with complete certainty that I’ll return. I don’t know of our futures now… nor what I can give you as a father. I can offer no more inheritance. No titles. No honor. Naught but a name. And…. the promise…. That no matter the consequences I face now, no matter the fate I go to, my heart will rest with you and your mother. If nothing else… I love you with all my heart and I bid you, never forget it.” He whispers these words gently to the child. Placing a soft kiss on the top of their head. Almost painful as he puts them back in the arms of their mother. Standing and looking to Daemon.

He knows not what his punishment will be. But at least…. He saw his love. And held their child. At least once. He whispers to the lady. Words of devotion to her. And a name for the child. Something for him to give them. As he stands and walks to find what fate will decide for him now.

This is so beautiful 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

And the ending 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Aemond needs more time with his kid and his lady Velaryon 😭😭😭😭😭😭

But anon your writing is so good🔥🔥🔥🔥

#aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #aemond x reader #hotd #house of the dragon #game of thrones #game of thrones imagines #hotd headcanon #hotd fanfic #hotd imagine #hotd imagines #hotd one shot #house of the dragon imagine

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m-ayo-o · 9 months

Text

1 stranger

meeting Toji // female reader wc 3400 chapters m.list -> next

wrote this last winter, it was chilly. i was sick.

nb: I placed Toji in his 40s. feel free to imagine whatever age you're comfortable with

You’re feeling totally wiped out, it’s the end of another long year and you really need a break. You have a few more jobs to do before you can start your holiday, but you’re so exhausted you’re not sure if you can get through them. Your morning has been spent recovering from another late night at work, now traipsing around the shops attempting to find some flu medicine.

Your eyes are blurry as you’re walking around, feeling so weak. Your legs tremble and the edges of your vision starts to cloud over and turn black. Clinging onto the nearest shelf your knees buckle and you fall. Black swathes cover your eyes like curtains, reality fades away as you feel yourself collapsing.

This may be more than a simple flu.

⋆⁺ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆★

The next sensation you feel is stinging pain in your head. You slowly open your eyes and blink, taking in the light as your pupils contract.

“Ugh…” you mutter, your head is killing. You’re obviously in a hospital bed, but next to you is an unfamiliar person.

He looks up seeing you’re awake.

“You fainted,” he states flatly, looking at your dazed expression.

Well, that much seems fairly obvious. You turn to face him slowly. “And you are?” You ask cautiously, your voice cracking as you’ve just woken up.

“Your hero,” he extends a hand to shake yours as you sit up.

“I just found you passed out in the shop back there…” he continues, “I took you to the hospital. I’m Toji.” His big hand squeezes you tight. As your gaze trails up his arm to his face you’re greeted by striking green eyes, dark spiky hair and a slight smile with a red scar on the edge of his lips.

“Oh,” you’re a bit lost for words as you look up at him, “well, um, thank you...” you manage, looking down from his intense gaze.

“Don’t mention it,” he replies, releasing your hand, standing up, “well, I should get going now you’re up. I’ll tell the doctors to check on you.”

He turns towards the door, ready to leave. “Wait!” You squeak before he exits. He turns to face you again, locking eyes with yours.

“Please can I pay you back? If it weren’t for you I’d be in trouble… there are all sorts of creeps out there,” your voice is shaky as you ask him.

“How do you know I’m not one?” He questions with a teasing laugh.

“Because you brought me here! You didn’t have to do that,” you look down again, mumbling a little, “and now I owe you. So please, let me have your last name, or your number?” You ask, hoping that you can at least find him again to repay his kindness.

“It’s no big deal. I’m sure plenty of people would do the same thing,” he lies through his teeth, “but I’ll give you my number in case you need my services again,” he smirks as you pass him your phone. You text him your number and thank him again, managing a weak smile as he leaves you to the doctors.

You can’t believe somebody actually picked you up and took you to the hospital, let alone someone like him. He looked so intimidating and serious, but when he spoke his voice was soothing and alluring. You knew you really wanted to see him again.

⋆⁺ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆★

You’re discharged from the hospital fairly quickly and you rest up for a few days in your apartment. You forget about your work and just try to relax, feeling better in time for the weekend, which is the start of your time off anyway. Now you’ve pretty much recovered, you really want to contact the mysterious man who looked after you so kindly.

You decide to call him, choosing the most direct route and hoping to hear his voice again.

“Hello, it’s y/n, from the hospital,” you explain as Toji answers.

“Oh hey, girl who passed out in the shop,” you hear his teasing tone through the phone.

“Yes,” you sigh, feeling embarrassed, “just... please tell me what I can do to repay you,” you know your voice sounds whiny over the phone, making you cringe.

“Hmm,” Toji thinks about what he can get away with, “how about you cook for me, at your place?” He asks bluntly.

You pause for a few moments as you’re a little taken aback. “Um- uh, ok. If that’s what you want?” You ask tentatively, thinking about his possible motives for coming over. He can hear your embarrassment over the phone.

“Look, I just want dinner. I don’t like crowded restaurants, that’s all,” he explains. “Oh, yes! Ok!” you feel your cheeks going red, feeling dumb for assuming he wanted something else, “yes, I, I’m not an amazing cook but I can try my best,” you stutter out. He agrees and you wrap up your call. You text him your address and decide what to cook.

⋆⁺ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆★

Toji said he'd arrive at 7pm after work, so you've got everything ready, allowing enough time to get changed into something a bit more presentable than a baggy jumper and fluffy socks.

You slip into a dress, applying a little mascara and lip gloss, tidying up your hair. You study your reflection, thinking you look pretty good, but this is the kind of outfit you’d usually wear for a date. The dress hugs your figure nicely and frills out at the bottom. You sigh and think, too much? But it’s too late, as you hear a knock at the door.

Toji looms over you, seemingly filling the entire doorway with his large figure. Your gaze travels up his body, over his well fitting shirt, his arms and torso.

The size difference between you is ridiculous as you feel like a child standing in front of him. You try to stop gawking as you smile up at your guest and greet him.

He looks down, unashamedly checking you out in your cute dress.

“You look…” his eyes linger over your waist, “much better now.”

The corner of his lip twitches into a little smirk as his eyes snap up to your pretty face again.

“I, I feel much better, thank you, please come in,” you manage, turning to hide your blush.

You enjoy your meal together and chat about work and whereabouts he lives in the neighbourhood. He seems pretty reserved but Toji explains that he’s a bodyguard for some political official during the day, sometimes picking up freelance work if it pays well.

Now you’re sitting up close to him, after hearing about his life, you realise Toji's probably a fair bit older than you. You think he might be around 38.

You both settle in the living room section of your open plan apartment, pulling up a coffee table to your big sofa. Toji reclines and relaxes as you get some dessert for yourself– he’s finally full after eating what would’ve been a week’s worth of food for you.

You find some dessert then turn back to sit on the sofa, seeing him standing up and stretching, his shirt lifting as he reaches his arms up above his head. Your eyes hover over his figure for a second, quickly returning your attention to your ice cream.

“I should probably get out of your way, it’s kinda late,” Toji sighs as he finishes stretching. You didn’t realise it's already 10:30, but it's Friday, and Toji seems really nice.

“Would you like to stay… for a drink?” you ask tentatively.

“You want me to stay?” His eyebrow arches as you push the ice cream around your bowl.

You nod, “if you want to…”

“I’ll stay, but not for a drink,” you get comfy on the sofa together and enjoy your ice cream.

“So, you know a little about me now, is there anything you’re curious about?” Toji asks, turning to you. You take another mouthful of your strawberry ice cream and look up at your handsome guest. Your eyes travel over his muscular arms, up his neck, over the scar on his lip, settling on his emerald eyes.

“How old are you?” You finally ask.

“How old do you think I am?”

You hesitate for a second. You actually think he’s 38, so you decide to go a little lower in order to avoid any offence.

“36?” You ask.

“Honestly?” He knows you’re lying.

“38.” You state more confidently.

“45.” Toji replies with a toothy smile. Your eyebrows fly up as you let out a laugh that quickly dies down when you realise he isn't kidding.

“45?” You can only repeat, searching your mind for something smart to say, only to end up looking pretty dumbfounded.

“And how old are you?” He asks in return, curiosity getting the better of him. You repeat your little game, Toji near enough guessing your true age.

“Um, so is there anything you’d like to know about me?” You ask back.

“Hmm…” he tilts his head, “how many people have you slept with?”

You almost choke on your ice cream. You end up swallowing it as you laugh at his question. “You really want to know that?” You finally ask.

He nods, “mm, please do tell. I’m curious.”

“Why don’t you guess that, too? See how close you can get,” you suggest, wanting to know what he thinks.

Toji tries to dodge around the question for a while, not wanting to answer. Although he seems fairly blunt and straight talking, he doesn't come across as rude. So you give him a little clue, helping him guess just a few shy of the actual number.

“And you?” You return his inquisitive question.

“What do you think?” Of course, let’s guess again.

“Well, you’re older than me…” you trail off, gazing over his handsome features, “and much more attractive…” you sigh, thinking aloud.

“Excuse me?” He asks with a smile, wanting you to repeat yourself.

“You, you’re better looking than me. That’s just a fact,” you say again as you look up at him, trying not to get embarrassed.

“You think I'm attractive?” He asks with a grin, making you lose your cool and look down. Toji leans over, tilting your chin up with a finger and thumb. You just nod your head, your eyes avoiding his intense gaze.

“Maybe I haven't lost my touch...” he mutters, releasing your chin, “but you’re much more attractive than an old geezer like me,” he shrugs, complimenting you so casually.

Your eyes dare to meet his as you continue, “Ok, so you’re attractive, and a smooth talker,” you count on your fingers, “oh, and you’re some kind of hero,” your list gets longer.

“So…?” He asks as you attempt some quick calculations in your head.

“Um… I really don’t know!” You whine. You hazard a few guesses that all seem way off the mark as he just laughs and rolls his eyes.

“Not even close, doll,” he pauses, hesitation crossing his features, “to be honest, I don’t have an exact number, probably triple figures. But I'm not sure…” his voice dips lower as his eyes lose contact with yours.

“wow�� you can't help but let out a little whisper.

“I know. When I was younger... I made a habit of sleeping with someone new whenever I could,” he sighs.

“Mm, were you trying to get over someone?” You ask quietly. He just nods and looks up at you with a rueful smile.

“Yeah, exactly that. But, it didn’t really work, so I stopped… and just got on with my life,” he sighs more contentedly now.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to pry,” you apologise as he shakes his head.

“I brought it up, right?” he shrugs.

You finish your interesting conversation and ice cream, starting to tidy up a little.

“I really should get going, I have to work so early in the morning,” you hear Toji groan as you're washing up.

“Oh shit! I’m so sorry!” You didn't realise he was busy tomorrow. “No problem, how about we continue this another time?” He asks.

You agree, feeling a little disappointed as Toji leaves your apartment, but you understand he’s busy and his job must be tiring. He says goodnight and you thank him again for his help the other week as he waves and walks down the hallway.

⋆⁺ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆★

As the weeks progress, Toji and you seem to be getting closer, meeting up for drinks, he asks you for coffee the following weekend, then you invite him for dinner again the next Friday. You learn that Toji has a 25 year old son, which boggles your mind a little, who lives on the outskirts of the city.

He sees him fairly often but he explains they’re not that close. You’re very curious about the son he talks about as he’s around the same age as you. You presume the woman he mentioned before is his mother, and you don’t want to seem too nosy.

Along with his family background, you start to see different sides of Toji– how he is with strangers is downright off-putting, coming across arrogant and intimidating.

But behind his brazen and nonchalant exterior, you discover that he can be polite when he wants, seemingly pushing his ego down to show respect for others.

He doesn't seem to acknowledge it, but you swear you've never met anyone so hardworking. His profession in security takes a certain level of commitment, but Toji seems like he's on the clock 24/7, being vigilant and assertive everywhere you go.

You learn that he can be snappy and standoffish at times, mainly with strangers or whoever's unfortunate enough to be on the other end of the phone when his patience has worn thin.

But, no matter what mood he's in, you're never on the receiving end of any ill tempered outbursts. He seems so calm when he's talking with you, his body relaxing with your slight touch, his eyes softening as they linger over your pretty features.

You really innocently hope you’re the only girl he’s seeing right now. From his track record, you’d assumed otherwise. But, from his explanation you really hope that that phase is in the past for him. You carry on hoping, anyway.

⋆⁺ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆★

After spending another evening at your apartment, Toji has to leave once again. This time when he gets to the door he hesitates, turning to look down into your eyes. He reaches a large hand out to you as you stand close to him near the door. His hand seems to cover your entire shoulder as he pulls you into him gently. Toji wants a hug? You think to yourself.

You excitedly wrap your arms around his waist and squeeze him tight, but you feel him pushing you away again. Oh, damn it, you think. He didn’t want that??

“C’mere, doll,” he murmurs as he snakes his hands down to your waist. He lifts you and hoists you up with his hips, making you wrap your legs around him for support. Your hands reach up around his shoulders that you can now reach and Toji wraps his arms around you, squeezing tightly.

“Mm, that’s better,” he mumbles into your neck, your head right next to his.

“‘m too short,” you murmur back, feeling sorry that you couldn’t reach around his shoulders properly without help. Well, you don’t feel too sorry now you’re in this position.

“Mm, no,” he turns his head to you, “you’re the perfect size f’ me,” his lips lift into a little smirk, your noses touching.

“Toji…”

“Mm?” his voice sounds much deeper now you're up close.

He kisses you passionately and gently slips his tongue into your mouth. You eagerly kiss him back and slide your tongues together as he holds you in his arms. You pull away and he sucks your lip, not wanting to stop.

“Can I kiss you?”

He just smiles and leans in, closing the gap between your lips.

“I thought you’d never ask, doll,” he sighs and kisses you again, then sets you back on your feet, “I really do have to go, though…”

You have a slightly pouty expression as you look up at him, his black hair hanging down over his face as he leans over.

“How about you come to my place next week?” he asks.

Huh, you realise you haven’t been to Toji’s yet. “Oh, ok. Sure.”

He leans right down and kisses you again, saying goodnight. He knows he’s left you eager for more as he walks down the hallway, waving goodbye.

keep reading: sweet

[chapters m.list]

[masterlist]

likes, comments + reblogs appreciated! ♡

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #female reader #toji fushiguro #meeting toji fushiguro

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flowersandbigteeth · 1 year

Text

Your shadowbeast boyfriend gives you a hug

Shadowbeast (Rafe) x Female Reader

General Plot: You are having a bad day and you need a hug

Word Count: 700

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six

Headcannon

W: bullying, sfw monster fluff

“I don’t know what I expected, we all know why she’s here,” your coworker sneered as he tossed the file back to you.

The group gathered around you snickered as you fumbled for it, the whole thing flopping to the floor, papers going everywhere. You scrambled to your knees to gather up the fallen paperwork.

“Next time read it before you bring it to me,” he chuckled, turning to walk back to his desk.

The show over the other gathered co workers dispersed, leaving you to bite back tears while you arranged the papers in their folder.

They didn’t have to be so rude to you. It had been a month since Rafe had taken over, but you were still getting used to how everything worked at your new job. For the most part, you operated as a mediator between Rafe’s foul moods and the somewhat innocent employees of the magazine. They had no idea how many times you’d saved one of them from having their soul consumed, but they all saw you as the boss’s brainless play toy. It didn’t help that you knew nothing about architecture, confused all of the foreign names that they wrote about, and had no organizational skills to speak of. You were trained as a photographer!

You clutched the papers to your chest as you made your way to the supply closet, your only refuge from both Rafe and your coworkers. Leaning against a filing cabinet you took a deep breath, practicing the meditation techniques you'd been reading about. They didn’t keep the tears from collecting in the corners of your eyes and a little sob from creeping past your lips.

How much longer could you endure this? You smothered whimpers for an hour while you curled up in the corner.

A hazy black cloud engulfed you and Rafe’s warm arms appeared around your shoulders. He tucked your head into his chest and held you close.

“Shhh…” he murmured, rocking you in his arms.

You trembled between his biceps, terrified he would ask who had made you this way. It killed you to be responsible for someone else’s death. As if reading your mind he hummed at you.

“You don’t have to tell me,” he whispered, “I already know. I know everything that happens around you (Y/N), but you don’t have to feel guilty. I won’t kill him. I know how it upsets you.”

You sniffled and looked up at him.

“Y-you won’t?” you murmured.

He smiled down at you.

“No…not this time,” he said, “I owed a friend a favor and I found a way to repay it. I gave that cretin to him as a pet.”

You weren’t sure that was much better, but at least he wasn’t dead, which was something.

You pressed your nose into his shoulder, smearing snot on his suit jacket. He brushed away your tears with his thumb. He thought it was so precious how sensitive you were. You took everything those fools said so seriously and it pinched his heart to see you cry over idiots who were beneath you.

“No more tears for that scum,” he rumbled at you while he cupped your head, “I’ll never let anyone get away with hurting you. Chin up buttercup, who’s the luckiest girl in the world?”

You sniffled.

“Me…I guess,” you said quietly.

He chuckled at you.

“You guess?” he asked, “do I need to remind you of how lucky you are?”

You tipped your head up at him and gave him a little smile, laced with mischief. You’d had a bad day and you wanted him to fix it for you.

“Maybe,” you said, batting your eyelashes at him.

“What if we take the rest of the day off work and go sample cakes at the bakery,” he offered.

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck. That was a suitable distraction from your misery. He smiled at you, his big teeth glinting and scooped you up in his arms, carrying you out of the supply closet.

#monster x girl #monster lover #monster fluff #human x monster #yandere male #male yandere #yandere fluff #fluff #monster fucker

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filmtv2022 · 9 months

Text

One More Ride (18+ MDNI)

All Series Masterlist

Pairing: Rhett Abbott x Reader

Summary: Rhett & Y/N spend their last night in Wabang together. Pushing away the weight of the world by falling into one another's arms.

Warnings: SMUT (this is probably the filthiest thing I've written so far) + language

A/N: I've had the general idea for this story brewing for a while. This story is a one-shot standalone that isn't connected to my series "By Your Side", but if you want more Rhett content... might I suggest that you go read that too! Enjoy & I apologize for any mistakes!

Bright hues of orange and pink washed over the wispy clouds high in the sky above the pasture. The mountains and far-off forest sat dark on the horizon. An evening breeze picked up as the sun continued to sink, throwing goosebumps over your socked feet and bare arms. It would have been easy to go and grab a hoodie from the cab of the old pickup, but you didn’t want to miss any of the sunset. Digging your toes underneath the pile of blankets that covered the bed of the truck, you leaned back, letting the warmth of Rhett’s solid frame behind you soak in your skin.

Night was quickly settling over the wild landscape, the Abbott house was barely more than a black spot in the distance. The quiet moment stretched on as you memorized the way the light painted the sky, creating a glittering mosaic of colors. The saturation changed the longer you watched. The bright oranges and pinks faded into dusky blues and purples, which you knew would eventually morph into inky blackness. Sitting here, the reality of what was coming felt heavy in the air. Change was coming, and if tradition held, the Abbott family did poorly with accepting that the world continued to turn, paving the way for the future. Closing your eyes, you inhaled deeply, reveling in the woodsy musk of Rhett’s cologne. His lips pressed a constant kiss to your hair as his hands held firmly to him. An edge of anxiety was obvious in the way he kept you close. One hand gripped tightly onto your waist, while the other drew absent-minded patterns over your thigh. Tracing over the bumps and frays of your jeans before following the line of the seams, picking at the loose threads.

“You don’t have to do this you know? You don’t have to ride tomorrow. We can leave tonight,” Turning your head to look up at him, you watched his jaw clench, “You just say the word, Rhett, and we’re gone.”

Looking down at you, his blue eyes ran dark in the dusty light, “You know it’s not that simple.”

“I know,” reaching up to hold his cheek, you pleaded with him to stay with you, to not look away, “but I also know that the only person in that house right now that gives a shit about you is Amy. And she already knows what's going to happen or has guessed as much anyway. You don’t owe them shit, Rhett.”

“They’re family.” A pained look furrowed his brow.

Shifting further, you settled yourself in his lap, your thighs on either side of his. Your face now sat even with Rhett’s, as your hands came up to hold his face, his stubble scrapped lightly at your palms. Scanning over his features, you caught the way his anxiety had settled between his brows, the lines growing deeper the longer he sat with the knowledge of what was to come & the guilt of knowing he was finally going to escape.

“Yeah, they’re family, and that doesn’t change when you drive away from this town. They will always be here, waiting for you, Rhett. But that’s the thing, they’ll always be here. Do you remember what you said? What you've promised me every year since we were eleven?”

“I don’t remember…”

“Bullshit, you remember. Tell me what you said.”

Locking eyes with you, he spoke the words in a whisper, “I said that I'd get out, that I’d get both of us out.”

“That’s right, and you know what, it’s been long enough. It’s time. Nothing is holding us here, and If we don’t leave now… I don’t know if we ever will. This place is killing you, Rhett, and I’ll be damned if I let you stay here to die.” pressing your forehead into his, your soft breath fell over his face, “Be selfish for once in your fuckin’g life… ‘cause I can’t do this without you.”

“One more ride, that’s all that I’m askin’ for. Then we’re out.”

“For you this time, one more for you. Promise me that.”

“Promise.” Holding you close by the hips, his hand slid up the length of your back, burying itself in your hair so that he could press a gentle kiss on your lips.

The glow of the sunset cast his face in shadows as the gusts of air fluttered the loose pieces of hair around his ears. The errant strands, tickled the delicate skin along your temple, making you smile. Gingerly, you reached out and tucked them back into place. You weren’t ready to relinquish the feeling of him. Trailing your fingertips down the side of his neck, you rested your palms on his chest. Rhett used his strength to haul you even closer, as if he needed to pull you inside of himself, your chest flush with his as he slid a hand down your spine. His wide hands came to rest on your ass. Raking your hands over his sides, a shiver ran over his body at the feeling of your touch. The beer he’d been drinking sat sweetly on his breath as your lips brushed together.

Desperation for you filled his every move, you were the answer to every question that ran unchecked through his mind. His mouth found your neck, nipping at the tender flesh and leaving marks in the wake. Pushing up the hem of your shirt, he shifted beneath you, slotting a thigh between your own. Using his strength, he forced your weight down. Your thoughts swam at the pressure of him holding you in place on top of him, your hips moving of their own accord. A groan fell from his lips as your head fell back in pleasure.

Sinking his fingers into the sliver of skin that sat exposed between the hem of your shirt and your jeans, a shaky breath rattled from his lungs, “Fuck.”

“Rhett.” His name was nearly a whine as you called for him.

“I know, baby.”

Helping you move, a low groan rumbled from his chest as you continued to brush up against him. Each movement sent shock waves through his body. Rhett’s hands wandered, skimming over your chest before sinking back down. Toying with the button on your jeans, but leaving it closed, he dipped his fingers beneath the waistband. His callouses were rough against, you as he continued to move. Your lips found his neck as he ghosted over your core, the pressure just enough to leave you wanting more. Taking him by the wrist, you held him in place, encouraging him to continue and silently begging for more. The rapid rise and fall of your chest spurred him on, his nerves alight with anticipation.

A whimper tumbled from you as Rhett removed his hand from your hold, but the disappointment was short-lived. With his eyes locked onto you, Rhett's fingers fumbled with the button on your waistband. Popping it open, he wasted no time dipping his fingers below the fabric.

Your slick coated his fingers, “So fuckin’ wet. This all for me, Darlin’?”

“Yes, Rhett, all for you.” The touch was nearly too much and yet not enough.

A wanton moan ripped from you as he continued to bring you closer to the edge. Losing his self-control, Rhett rather hastily turned you over. Settling his weight between your legs, and rolling his hips into yours, earning a heady groan from you. The ridges of the truck bed pressed sharply into your back even through the layers of blankets, but that was so far from your mind. The only thing that mattered was him.

Rhett’s hands once again slipped under your shirt, pushing it up to expose your bra. Mouthing at the top of your breasts, his patience for the garment in his way lasted only so long. His hand slipped behind your back, grasping for the clasp, and finding it. Moving just enough to free it from your body, he tossed it to the side before tugging your shirt the rest of the way off. You reached for the hem of his t-shirt, and he realized what you wanted, and quickly got rid of it

With both your tops dropped somewhere nearby, he dipped back down to capture your mouth, the kiss hungry and wild. Accepting everything that he gave, your back arched as he worshipped every inch of your body, his lips, and fingers tracing over the contours of your curves.

“So fuckin’ beautiful” he whispered as he trailed down the expanse of your stomach with featherlight kisses.

Moving lower, he gripped at your still-covered thighs, pressing kisses over your hips before turning his attention to your core. Carefully, he pushed your legs further apart, his thumb running lightly over where you needed him most, his lips following close behind, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

“Don’t be a goddamn tease, Rhett Abbott” Twining your fingers through his hair, you tugged at the strands trying to guide him in the right direction.

A low huff of laughter rumbled through his chest, “Getting impatient aren’t ya?.”

Sitting up, he peeled your jeans from your body, his hands raking over the newly exposed skin. The heat flowing through your veins left you reeling. Adjusting your position so that you were able to look into his eyes, you brushed your lips over his as you spoke, “Yeah, I am. Are you gonna do something about it… or should I take care of myself?”

Your hand smoothed over your underwear, pushing it aside, and you dipped your fingers beneath drawing a gasp from yourself. You stayed focused on him, daring him to make the next move. A challenge he happily accepted.

“Callin’ me a tease… jesus christ woman" Stripping off his own jeans and underwear, as quickly as he could, his boots also discarded, he wasted no time returning to you.

Crashing against, you, his sure touch replaced your own. Panting into his mouth, you gave yourself over completely to him. Moving in gentle strokes and circles with his fingers, he worked you closer and closer to the edge. Feeling your body stiffen, and your breaths turn into erratic heaves, he continued to rile you up.

“Fuck, Rhett!”

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

“I want- I need to-” You couldn't finish your thought, but he knew very well what you were asking for, he could feel how close you were.

“After what you said earlier… you sure you deserve it?” he relished the scent of the whiskey on your breath from earlier as he swiped over your bottom lip, nipping lightly, before tasting you.

Ghosting over your entrance, he moved at a languid pace, just enough to keep you on edge, but not enough to tip you over.

“Don’t make me beg, Rhett.” Your hand that had been grasping at his ass, slipped between you two, finding him aching and waiting for your touch. Wrapping your fingers around him, you stroked him roughly, earning a deep groan.

“I wouldn’t dream of making you beg. Just let me enjoy this for a minute, darlin’” Smirking, he pushed your hips down into the blankets as he kissed down the column of your neck.

He paid close attention to the way your breath hitched as he expertly found your most sensitive areas. Working his way down your frame, he held you in place as you writhed under his touch. Rhett’s warm breath, breezed over your core, causing you to clench in anticipation. His lips found your clit as his fingers curled inside, ripping a needy moan from you as he hummed against your body. Unable to stay still, you rolled your hips up to meet him, begging him for more. Listening to your silent pleas, his tongue worked in steady strokes, pulling you further from reality. Hanging on by a thread, you gasped in shock at the sudden loss of his touch.

“What the fuck-”

“I want to feel you around me when you come.”

Kissing you deeply, he pressed into you in one fluid motion. Both of you let go of desperate moans at the feeling of having one another so close. Pausing for a moment to catch his breath, he waited for you to give him permission to continue.

“You all right?”

“I need you to move, Rhett.”

“Good girl. You feel so fuckin’ perfect... like you were made for me.”

“Holy shit” Digging your fingers into this hair and back, you trembled at the feeling of him, your nails sinking into his skin.

The pair of you were insatiable. You rolled your hips in time with him, pulling delicious moans from each other with every thrust. Reaching up, Rhett laced his finger with yours, holding your hand up by your head as he continued to move. His pace faltered as he felt himself drawing closer to his own release. Pleasure consumed the pair of you heart and soul.

“I’m close.” his voice was airy and light as he whispered his confession.

Wrapping your legs tighter around his waist, you pulled him closer, “Let go, Rhett. I’ve got you.”

Weak moans left your lips as he quickened his pace, chasing his climax. Reaching between you, his fingers once again found your clit, “Come with me, Y/N.”

Snapping his hips in time with his touches, he felt you clench around him as you cried out. You climax washing over you in waves of lightning, setting every nerve in your body on fire. Feeling you go, Rhett was right behind. With one final thrust, you felt him fall over the edge, joining you with his release. Swallowing his sharp exhales and groans, you kissed him deeply as he came.

Slowing down, Rhett stayed buried inside of you as he shifted so that you were lying on top of him. His body was so spent that he wasn’t sure he would’ve been able to keep from collapsing on top of you if he’d stayed how you were before. Silence fell over the two of you as your lungs returned to normal, your muscles warm and pliable as you soaked in the feeling of each other. Tugging the edge of a blanket over the top of you both, Rhett ran his finger down the length of your back. The feeling of your skin soothing away the last remnants of worry. Lost in each other’s arms, it was easy to forget every fear that threatened to tear the two of you apart. Here, like this, the future seemed limitless.

“I love you, Y/N. And we’re getting out of here, just like I promised.”

“I love you too, Rhett.”

#rhett abbott x reader #lewis pullman #rhett abbott #outer range #rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott x y/n #rhett abbott x female reader

106 notes · View notes

justmeinadaze · 7 months

Text

Halloween Masquerade (Part of Pushing the Barrier AU) (Eddie X You)

A/N: And now that song from that scene will be in my head for days lol Enjoy <3.

Full Series Here!

Warnings: Stripper Eddie X Fem Reader, SMUT, quickie passionate bathroom smut :), FLUFF, They love each other <3, ANGST, readers mom isn't a fun of Mr. Munson here and feels like he broke up readers marriage, Eddie confronts her and meets the parents, he also has a run with her ex who I finally gave a name to!

Word Count: 3531

“So how are things with your new man going?”

You grin sassily towards your coworker as you take a bite of your food. It had been six months since you kicked out your husband and filed for divorce. You and Eddie both moved out of your old apartments into one together that you absolutely loved. The place you were at with your ex was so big and always felt so empty. With the metalhead’s things mingled with yours, it actually felt like you were home.

Three months ago, your ex showed up to your classroom trying to win you back so after telling security to make sure to never let him in the building again, of course, the gossip quickly spread. When you casually mentioned Eddie everyone wanted to know more and after bringing him to a work function, they fell in love with him.

“Y/N, he’s so sweet, oh my god! You were married for how long to that other guy and I don’t think I met him once. He’s really cute to. Look at that smile! You’re so lucky!”

When they asked what he did for work, you told them he was a musician which wasn’t an entire lie. Eddie still played with his band on the weekends and they did what they could to get noticed. You just left out the part about the cube and him taking off his clothes for money. To be fair, you two had many, MANY conversations about it and it was his idea that you keep it a secret.

“I don’t want it to cause trouble for you at work or anything.”

“I don’t think it will but I’m honestly not sure.”

“Baby, I come from a small town remember? Parents used to flip shit about teacher’s personal lives all the time. We had one teacher in middle school who ‘resigned’ because the parents found out she had a girlfriend. It was bullshit.” Eddie wraps his arm around your shoulders as your lean closer against him on the sofa. “I know this city is a bit more liberal but…it would kill me if you lost your job. You love those kids and you’re an amazing teacher.”

“It’s going pretty well. Now the divorce on the other hand…”, you roll your eyes.

“Nick causing problems?”

“With a capital P. I don’t get it. He was never home and asshole cheats on me but he doesn’t want to sign the divorce papers because he thinks we ‘still have a chance’.”

***

You sighed as you entered your apartment and placed your things down on the floor by the front door.

“Hey baby. Long day?” You smile when you find Eddie sitting on the counter with a beer in his hand. It takes you moment to realize his eyes were clouded over with worry. “Yeah, it’s about to get longer.” Reaching over with his finger, he pushes a button on the voicemail box and you roll your eyes as your ex’s voices floats through.

“Y/N, honey, please. I know we can fix this! Call me back so we can talk. That’s all I want to do is talk.”

“Seriously, babe, he’s not what you deserve. You deserve so much better! I can be the man you need.”

“Fuck! Y/N, you are smarter this. What kind of future can you expect to have with trash like him.”

You cross your arms as you growl at his insult of the man you love.

“Oh, wait. It gets better.”, Eddie says with sarcasm.

“Y/N, it’s your mother. Look, you can’t keep ignoring people that care about you. Nicholas is still your husband and you owe it to him to at least hear him out. Don’t be selfish! A marriage is about two people not just one.”

“Sweetheart, you made a commitment when you said I do. Whoever this boy is that you think is worth destroying your marriage over… I can’t. I’m so upset.”

You roll your eyes as the message closes out with her pretending to cry. Shuffling towards him, you place yourself between Eddie’s legs as you wrap your arms around him, pleasantly sighing when you feel his hand pet your head.

“I’m sorry you had to listen to that. You’re not trash, baby, and you definitely didn’t destroy whatever I was in before because I know it wasn’t a marriage.”

“I know, sweetheart. I just hate feeling helpless.” Leaning back, you look at him with confusion. “I’d like to talk to your family.”

Shaking you head, you completely pull away from him as you head towards your bedroom with him hot on your heels.

“Y/N, come on. I can handle them and I’m sick of you having to listen to them berate you because of me.”

“It’s NOT because of you. It’s because of Nick. He convinced them he’s a good guy and he convinced my mother that he’s the victim. Eddie…”, you exhale heavily. “Just ignore them. Please…so we can be happy.”

“Please, sweetheart, at least let me try.”

He softly smiles as he watches your head tilt to the side in thought.

“In our neighborhood where I grew up, for Halloween, they have this cheesy masquerade dance thing they do every year. Usually, Nick and I would go but this year I had planned to skip it… Eddie, are you sure about this?”

“Yes. I promise if I can’t sway them then I won’t bring it up again.”

#############

A heavy exhale leaves your lips as he parks his van outside of the building the party was being held at.

“Hey.”, he coos to get your attention. “You look really beautiful tonight.”

Eddie’s mouth had fallen open when he saw you step out of the bedroom in your purple masquerade dress that you had bought quickly one day after work. It was short in the front but the lacy material flowed down behind your legs just above your ankles with sleeves that came down to your elbows. Your hair was pulled back into a ponytail with the loose strands curled as they hung behind you. The purple mask rested on your face and brought out the color in your eyes that made the metalhead swoon.

Tonight, he took your breath away in his sleek black tux and utterly sexy smelling cologne that almost had you jumping him before you even left your apartment. What he didn’t tell you was he had asked Mira to help him pick something out.

“Eddie, everything’s going to be fine. I thought you didn’t care what people thought about you two.”

“I don’t but this is her family. I don’t actively want to make her life complicated. If I can smooth things over then I want to try.”

Smiling you lean over to give him a kiss before he jumps down and runs around to open your car door.

“After this, when we get home, we’ll celebrate Halloween right; spooky movies and greasy pizza till one of us throws up.” He beams down at you as you genuinely laugh and agree. “I’m right here with you, princess, ok? No matter what happens, you’re mine and I love you.”

***

As soon as you both entered the building, the stuffy air and aristocrat vibe hit you instantly. Keeping his hand tightly intertwined with yours, you yanked him towards the bar and hand him a glass of whatever was handed to you that you hastily knocked back.

“How long has this dance thing been around?”

“God, um, for as long as I can remember. My parents were always going and then dragging us along when we became adults.”

“Is it an adult only thing?”

“Not technically but you have a room full of people who are probably already drunk and think they’re above it all so…” Eddie can’t help but chuckle at your disgusted tone. “Did they have things like this in Hawkins?”

“Not that I’m aware of. One of my closest friends, his family comes from money and they had parties but I don’t think they went all out like this. This reminds me of that scene in The Labyrinth.”

“But I'll be there for you-ou-ou As the world falls down…”

His grin grows as you sing and look up at him with wide, glistening eyes filled with nothing but love for him.

“Care to dance with me, Ms. Y/L/N?”, he inquires as he playfully bows and extends his hand out for you to take.

“I’d love to, Mr. Munson.”

Guiding you to the dance floor, he tries to mimic the people around him, placing his palm on your back and clasping the other to you own while holding it in the air to the side. You smile as your free hand rests on his shoulder and you two begin to sway.

“You really do look handsome in this.”, you compliment him.

“Me? I pale in comparison to you, princess.” Eddie’s hand slides a bit lower as he brings you closer to him. “I’m not going to lie. I feel like I’m in a storybook right now. Like I’m a commoner who just snuck into the king and queen’s palace to dance with their beautiful daughter.”

“Eddie, you aren’t a commoner.”

“After we dance, I’d climb up to your balcony Romeo and Juliet style, professing my love to you.” He smiles when you giggle and blush, dipping you dramatically before bringing you back to his chest as he softly sings.

“A love that will last Within your heart I'll place the moon Within your heart.”

Feeling eyes on you, you glance around the room till your gaze lands on your mother who is staring daggers at the man holding you.

“I love you, Eddie.”

Hearing the shift in your tone, he takes a deep breath and wraps both arms around you.

“I love you to, Y/N. We got this.”

***

“Mom. Dad. You guys look amazing.”

Your dad grins as he yanks you in for a hug. “We look amazing? Look at you! You look beautiful. Who’s your friend?”

Eddie lifts up his mask and offers his hand to your father who shakes it.

“Hello, sir. I’m Edward Munson but you can call me Eddie.” As he moves to greet your mother, she glares at his palm as if it was dirty and he hesitantly pulls it back. “Ma’am.”

“This is my boyfriend.”

“Hm. Can’t have a boyfriend if you already have a husband.”, your mom spits.

“Hm. Someone should tell Nick that since he had a girlfriend through most of our marriage.”, you retort angrily.

“How about we go somewhere quiet and get to know Eddie here?”, your father suggests trying to break the tension.

Both of you follow them into an empty area where you and Eddie sit side by side on a couch while your parents take a seat in separate chairs across from each other.

“So, how did you two meet?”

“She was out for a walk and it started to rain so she ran into the bar I work at. We got to talking and…” He gently smiled as you looped your arm through his and leaned on his shoulder.

This was the story he came up with when you introduced him to people you knew. It always made you feel bad because you weren’t ashamed of what he did. You knew he only did it to survive and was working hard to become a musician. But Eddie insisted, trying to protect you from any more unwarranted stress.

“You’re a bartender?”

“I’m a guitarist actually.”

“He and his band are fantastic.”, you boast making him blush as his fingers lightly squeeze your knee.

“I imagine that doesn’t pay all the bills. Not here in New York.”, your mother sasses.

“Not yet, ma’am, but I do what I can to make ends meet.”

“Like seducing my daughter and breaking up a marriage?”

“He didn’t ‘break up’ my marriage. Nick did. You know what, that really pisses me off that you continue to defend him after what he did. I did everything to make my marriage work! You constantly make me feel like l didn’t try hard enough.”

“Obviously you didn’t because you and your husband aren’t together. Do you think your father and I get along all the time?”

“It was way more than ‘not getting along’!”

“Please. Look I’m just going to cut to the end of this conversation so we don’t waste any more time. I think you need to give Nicholas another chance and leave this negative distraction behind.”

You huff as she gestures towards Eddie.

“She did that already and he failed.”, the metalhead interjects. “We spent time away from each other and I respected her choice even though I didn’t agree with it. Y/N gave him a chance and he still went off to be with that girl.” He turns his head and meets your father’s eyes. “I love your daughter with every fiber of my being. Since the first time I heard her speak, I knew she was special. Nick had her for years and tossed her aside making her feel worthless. I know what that’s like and I would never do that to her or make her feel that way.”

“A marriage is sacred.”, your mother scoffs as she folds her arms.

“I agree. That’s why I want to marry her as soon as I possibly can.” His eyes find your own. “If you’ll have me of course.”

“Of course, you idiot.” Your palms cup his cheeks as you bring his lips to your own.

“You know, when we first met Nick, all he did was talk about himself.”, you dad smirked before extending his hand out to Eddie. “You’ve got my blessing, kid.”

As he enthusiastically shakes it, your mom starts scolding you three in the background. Ignoring her, you tug on his arm, and power walk down the hallway till you find an empty bathroom, pushing him in as you lock the door.

His arms open wide and you practically fly into them as your lips feverishly dance with his. Eddie’s palms roam your body, searching for a zipper, button, or any kind of access underneath your dress. Helping him, you lift the front hem exposing your panties and he hastily pulls them down before grabbing your ass to lift you onto the counter by the sink.

Heavy pants escape you as he sucks that sweet spot on your neck, grinding his groin between your legs as you fumble with his belt. His palm snakes to the back of your neck, placing his forehead on your own, and groans when he feels you free his cock from its confinement. Licking his lips, Eddie watches you with pure lust and anticipation as your tongue runs along your hand before stroking it along his length.

You guided his tip to your entrance till his hips took over and he thrust himself into your cunt. Gripping his waist, you allowed him to take what was his as his lips tenderly kissed parts of your face till he found your lips again.

“I love you, Eddie. I’m yours, baby.” The man’s jaw went slack as he pumped his hips at a faster pace as he listened to you murmur to him. “Look at me, baby, please.”

You subtly nodded as he did what you asked, flashing him a small smile.

“I can’t wait to marry you. I’ll—mmm—I’ll do whatever I can to get my divorce through. I’m not going to make you wait again. I promise. I promise, Eddie. Fuck.”

Bringing your head to his shoulder, the metalhead circle his arms around you, and held you to him as he pounded into you till your eyes rolled.

You trembled against him as the coil in your belly snapped and while your pussy clenched around him, he grunted in your ear before releasing his seed deep inside your body.

No one moved as you continued to hold each other.

When Eddie finally did pull back, he smirked and leaned forward to kiss your lips.

“I’m still going to purpose to you at the perfect moment but at least I got your dad’s blessing.”

As he adjusts his pants, he grabs some tissue to clean you with and helps you on to your feet, kissing the skin along your legs as he pulls your panties back to their proper place.

“No matter what, Eddie Munson, I’ll say yes.”

“I hope you know, baby, I’m not worried about you when it comes to your divorce. I know it’s him dragging his ass on everything.”

“Sometimes, I think about that fight we had in the cube…when you said I was the only girl in the world that you were ok with being my second choice.” Your fingers reach out to fix his jacket as you speak. “That killed me… I never want you to ever feel that way again, Eddie.”

Ringed fingers lift your chin to meet his eyes.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to keep punishing yourself for that and your marriage. You’re here with me now and I’m going to give you the life you deserve.”

After one final kiss, you both leave the bathroom hand in hand as you tug him towards the parking lot with the intention of leaving. Of course, things can never just be that easy for you two.

“Y/N?”

“Fucking hell.”, you growl in annoyance as you turn around. “Unless it’s about our divorce, Nick, I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Y/N, you haven’t returned any of my calls! The least you could do is hear what I have to say!”

“You had 5 years to say what you needed to say! You chose to cheat on me instead!”

“Look, I—” As your ex stepped towards you, Eddie stepped between you.

“Right there is good. You have no reason to be that close to her.”

“She’s my wife.”, Nick seethed as he eyed the metalhead with disgust.

“Not anymore. You had your chance, many of them, and you blew it. She doesn’t want to talk to you and with that being the case I’m not letting you near her.”

Your ex took a confident step forward and to his surprise Eddie did the same towering over him.

“Go ahead, Nick. Give me a reason. Y/N wouldn’t let me confront you when you harassed her at work so this will make up for that.”

“Eddie. Come on, honey. Let it go.”, you coax him in a calm voice.

“I broke up with Sarah.”, he says as his eyes flick from Eddie’s to yours. “I haven’t seen her since you left.”

“Too bad you couldn’t do that when we were together. Come on, Ed.”

“Jesus Christ, Y/N! Are you fucking kidding me?! I’m way better for you then this trailer trash asshole! How long are you going to keep punishing me?!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Nick. I forgot everything was about you! It’s always been about you! He’s way more of man than you ever were in every fucking way. Now, fuck off!”

“HEY! You don’t get to talk to me like that—”

As Nick stepped forward to scream at you, Eddie’s fist flew hitting him square in the nose as he fell to the floor.

“I warned you to stay back. Sign the divorce papers, Nick, and let her go. Let her be happy for once.”

##############

“Ow!”

“What do you mean ‘ow’?! Your rings took the brunt of the impact, you badass.”, you tease as hold the ice pack on his hand.

When you got home, you both had changed and were now comfortably lounging on the couch with you curled up by his side as you took care of him.

“Geez. You’re so mean.” Eddie smiles as his eyes scan your face. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, baby, I’m ok. I’m sorry about my mom.”

Shaking his head, he tugs you into his lap and you lean your head onto his shoulder.

“Don’t be, sweetheart. I don’t care what either of them says about me but I do care that it hurts you. I remember how lonely you were, Y/N. That sad sound of your voice when you first came in. The way you cried when you stumbled into my apartment telling me what Nick had done. I know you tried everything and I know you deserve better then that dick because I was there. I saw and heard everything. If she wants to keep belittling you, at least now she knows I’m not going to allow that and your dad knows I’m a good guy for you.”

“You are a good guy for me. My knight in shining armor or blood-stained rings I guess.”, you giggle.

“Hey, I warned him—”

“I know. I know.”, you smile as you turn his head to kiss your lips. “Now I believe I was promised pizza and celebrating the holiday correctly.”

Eddie laughs as he places a final peck on your lips and playfully pushes you off his lap. As he gets up to call the pizza place, he lightly continues to sing David Bowie, and gives you a wink.

“Falling, falling, falling, falling in love…”

###########

############

@Munsonsuccubus @samunson83 @tayhar811

@bibieddiesgf @maximus2354 @nevermore66 @ajkamins

@dollalicia @secretdryrose @staandupanndscream

@tlclick73 @persephone13 @mandyjo8719 @bebe0701

@other-world-s @kiyastrf94 @alottanothing

@blue-eyed-lion @zeroxbendylove-blog @munsonology

@mimsthebannished @ches-86 @siriusmuggle

(I pulled this from an old list so im sorry if any of these names are no longer what you go by. Just let me know and I can update it!)

#eddie munson #eddie fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #joseph quinn #joseph quinn fluff #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn stranger things #fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie x fem!reader #Spotify

98 notes · View notes

peachdues · 11 months

Text

Phantasmagoria: Teaser — Douma’s Assault

(NSFW Sanemi x Reader Tell Me to Stop — modern AU)

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

This teaser is from a later part of Phantasmagoria (likely the end of Part 2 or Part 3)

Playlist. Other teasers here and here.

CW: implied attempted SA; Douma doesn’t respect women but Akaza/Hakuji does; Sanemi gets violent.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Kyojuro answered the phone with a noncommittal grunt.

“Akaza?” Kyojuro said, his tone surprised. Sanemi perked up at the boy’s name from their hometown, but he was filled with unease as he beheld the darkness which clouded Kyojuro’s face.

“We’re on our way,” Kyojuro clicked his phone off and met Sanemi’s wary gaze.

“You know that party on 52nd? We need to go — now.” Kyojuro was already standing, his keys in hand.

Sanemi didn’t question his best friend, but he halts when his phone dings in time with Kyojuro’s, alerting them both to a group text sent from an unknown number.

It was a text image, and though only half of her face was visible, it was clearly Y/N.

And she looked fucking terrified.

Mascara had streaked down her cheeks from her tears as she held her arms out protectively in front of her; but her too-thin arms could not obscure the bloodied, crescent-shaped bite mark just above her breast.

Shinobuuuu your friend is lovely! A follow-up text read.

Next time, fucking pay me, hm?

Kyojuro looked to his friend in horror but he blanched at the shine of murderous rage in Sanemi’s eyes, the latter visibly shaking as he stared at the image on his phone.

“Let’s go,” was all Sanemi said, and with a nod, the two high-tailed it out of Kyojuro’s apartment and into his car.

—————————————————————————

“There you go, Y/N — you should be safe here until we can get you out, yeah?” The pink-haired man opened the door to a hidden closet behind the lofted stairs in his private room, one he knew with certainty that Douma knew nothing about. “I called you a ride already.”

Y/N sniffled, wiping at her cheeks as she brushed by the man to sit on a truck stored within the small half-cupboard. “Thank you, Hakuji — I owe you one.”

Akaza smiled and shook his head. He’d always liked Y/N — she had always been kind to him growing up, and she was one of the few people who called him by his actual name rather than the abhorrent nickname he’d been stuck with.

“Nah, I can’t stand that fucker,” Azaka grimaced, leaning on the doorway as the crying girl recollected herself. “Douma always takes things too far. I try to help when I can, but I don’t have eyes everywhere.” He frowned, before adding quietly, “I’m just glad I saw him bring you in.”

Y/N only nodded, too tired and too freaked out to summon the effort to say anything more. Akaza sighed. “I’d better get back to the party. Douma’ll go snooping if he can’t find me, and I really don’t want him to find you again.” He began to push the door shut. “This locks from the inside. Don’t open it for anyone else — I’ll come get you when your ride is here.”

Y/N nodded again. “Thanks, Hakuji. Say hi to Koyuki for me the next time you see her.”

Akaza smiled warmly and closed the closet door, sealing Y/N safely within.

————————————————————————

Y/N sat for what felt like an eternity on Hakuji’s dusty storage trunk, foot jiggling nervously as she waited for her escape out of the hellhole she’d found herself in. The party was still raging on downstairs, but a sudden thump followed by several gasps and screams made her heart catch in her throat, and her stomach began to twist with panic.

Y/N heard footsteps coming up the staircase towards Hakuji’s room, and she began to hyperventilate as they drew closer, rapidly approaching the closet door. Y/N slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle the sob building in her chest as the knob began to twist and jerk.

“Y/N. It’s me — open up.” The voice on the other side was not Hakuji, but a much warmer, much more familiar voice that had her sobbing again, only this time in relief. With a shaking hand, Y/N flipped the lock and the door swung open, revealing the most comforting presence she’d ever known.

Kyojuro stared at her, a mess on the floor of Hakuji’s closet, his face furious and tight. Kyojuro had always been a man of passionate emotions, but the cold ire that lined his face as his eyes narrowed at the spot of blood dried on Y/N’s top was enough to make her want to run and hide. However, his hands betrayed none of the anger he undoubtedly felt as he gripped Y/N’s wrist gently and hauled her to her feet. Kyojuro’s warm hand remained closed around hers as he led her from Hakuji’s room — the latter only giving her a nod of reassurance as she passed him by. Kyojuro halted at the top of the stairs leading down from Hakuji’s loft to the main floor of the house, the party below having gone eerily quiet save for only the occasional gasp.

Kyojuro turned back to her, his face stony. “Whatever you think you hear, don’t look. Keep your eyes forward until we get out of here.” He warned, and Y/N’s stomach was leaden with dread at the unspoken promise of violence in her best friend’s eyes.

Slowly, the pair descended the stairs, nearly making it to the front door when a strange, wet thud abruptly snapped Y/N’s attention to the adjacent room where party attendees had been dancing only moments before. The crowd, rather than reveling, had instead parted around two men hunched on the floor, staring only in shock.

It was Sanemi. Sanemi, who had Douma pinned beneath his knees as he mercilessly pounded his fist into the face of her would-be assailant until the latter’s face was nearly unrecognizable and covered in scarlet as Sanemi’s knuckles slammed into him, over and over. Beneath him, Douma merely wheezed out a laugh, egging Sanemi on.

Y/N parted her mouth in horror, wanting to cry out for Sanemi to stop, but Kyojuro tugged her sharply through the front door before she could.

“Don’t,” he said softly. “Let him get it out.”

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #sanemi shinazugawa #sanemi x reader #sanemi x y/n #kny x reader #kny fanfic #kny #kny sanemi #kyojuro rengoku #kny rengoku #kny douma #akaza #hakuji

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cowboyjen68 · 6 months

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Hi Jen! Coming to you from the closet for an emotional rant. Recently, I started dating this woman.I'm young, 19, I'm still at home with my very conservative and unsupportive family. I know that if I come out, my whole world shifts and the negative consequences could literally put me at risk. When this woman and I first started seeing each other, I was honest about my situation and told her it wasn't safe for me to. She told me she understood and that it wasn't a deal breaker.

Now she's doesn't seem very okay with the situation. It's been about a month. I'm out to basically everyone else, friends, other family like siblings, coworkers ect, and they know about her, but I don't want my parents to know about her, period, because I'm too afraid to put us at risk. I don't feel like I don't want to break up, I seriously like this woman. She's becoming very passive aggressive about it and less understanding the more time seems to pass. Im nervous, because I don't want this to lead to a break up, but there's nothing else I can do right now. I know if it's meant to be then it'll work out, but being closeted like this makes me feel so isolated and undeserving. I just don't know how to handle it.

I realize this might be too late and I hope you made the decision to stay safe within your home and she either came around to understand or you are not together any longer.

I get where she might come from. It is a place of either life long security and support OR one where she came out and experienced a bad situation or series of events at the hands of friends and family. Her thought process might be "if I can survive it you can" (and must) too. She might believe that since her parents were fine yours will likely come around.

Being an out and happy lesbian can lead us to feel like others can be just like us if they just take a risk. It is like when we experience joy in something, want others to have that and are clouded my our comfort into thinking it works the same for everyone in every circumstance of life. We all know this is not true.

She might feel that if you really loved her you would gladly proclaim that love even to those who will react negatively.

You do not owe your safety to her. Your home, financial security, physical safety and emotional comfort IS important. Telling people who can damage any of these things is an act in futility and unnecessary. No one needs to know you are a lesbian unless you wish to share that information. If she cannot understand your well being comes first she is not a woman you want to stay with. She is willing to risk your stability for public affirmation or proof of love which means she likes the "idea" of love but does not understand what loving someone actually means.

If she is willing to listen and stand by your decision then you can work on her thoughts and such. If she continues to push and prod then please move on. You deserve to be safe.

#lesbian #lesbians #dating #love #coming out

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irelandseyeonmythology · 6 months

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I have been trying to find an answer online but I can't quite find what I'm looking for, if you don't mind can you help provide some insight?

Basically my question is did the medival people of Ireland honest to god believe in pseudo historical texts like the Book of invasions and related traditions. Like they believed in 6 waves of people coming to ireland under Christian cosmology.

Or was this more of a literary tradition for generally understood to be fictional or not quite accurate stories?

So it's been. Months. But if it's any consolation, this DID thoroughly haunt me!

I also cleared it with a colleague of mine who does work on like. Medieval Irish conceptions of history, so it's been vetted by Someone Who Is Not Me, at least the rough outline (I am NOT showing them my Tumblr, god forbid.)

And...for the most part? Yeah. They did. They sometimes argued FIERCELY over little details, like the Tuatha Dé coming in a cloud of mist or whether or not they burned their ships, or whether they were doing it to get away from Lugh. They cited texts that they thought were particularly authoritative, like the Holiest of the Holies, the now-lost Cín Domma Snechtai, they refuted other scribe's suggestions, sometimes very aggressively. I mean, you have scholars into the 20th century believing in this, at least to some extent or another, like Eoin MacNeill in his Phases of Irish History (1919) or T.F. O'Rahilly in his Early Irish History and Mythology (1946). Obviously not in terms of like. The Tuatha Dé as a supernatural race of people, but in the sense of what might best be described as extreme euhemerization, using these medieval texts as a way of trying to unveil a lost Irish pre-history. (It goes without saying this is NOT my approach and not how most of us approach the field, but it was quite common decades ago.)

Geoffrey Keating, in the 17th century, would write his History of Ireland, which used LGE as one of its key pieces of evidence in his attempt to hit back against less than savory accounts by anglophone scholars, of Irish history. "LOOK at our history, LOOK at our glorious past, LOOK at what we can do." It's imminently sympathetic, honestly. (Though Geoffrey shouldn't be taken to be credulous -- he explicitly says that Cath Fínntragha, for example, was not to be taken as a true historical account.) There's a bit, perhaps slightly amusing by modern standards, in his prologue where he says, "Cambrensis [Gerald of Wales], who undertook to give a correct account of everything, appears to have received a medley of fables from some dunce or blind man, for he has said nothing of the conquest of the Tuatha-De-Dananns, who possessed Ireland one hundred and ninety-seven years, during which time nine kings of their nation rules the island."

This is a man who does, firmly, believe in what he's saying and in the veracity of the sources that he has. We also see LGE and the pseudohistorical scheme in general being adopted by Keating's contemporaries, such as Dubhaltach mac Fhirbhisigh (Leabhar na nGenealach) and Roderic O'Flaherty (Ogygia), some of the best scholars of their day and men who...this is my bias speaking, but I trust them. Especially Dubhaltach. I don't have my copy to hand, but the way he speaks about his sources, the way that he's willing to argue with them even as he includes them in his work...I believe him. Or. Let me rephrase that. I believe that HE believed in what he was saying, and I believe in his integrity as a scholar. They're men who absolutely have an angle! But they're men who are using the sources that they have to defend their country from some truly awful slander using the best materials they have at the time, as methodically as possible.

Charles O'Conor, one of the, in my opinion, crucially overlooked scholars of the 18th century, a man who the field owes a massive debt to for his activism and his large collection of manuscripts (some of which, through a story I'll tell sometime if anyone's interested, become the Stowe Collection), was skeptical, saying that Keating's work, "Is a most injudicious Collection; the historical part is degraded by the fabulous, with which it abounds. Keating was one of those laborious Readers, who, in making Extracts, do it without Selection or Discernment; and suchWorks (as the judicious Mac-Firbis observes -- ought never to be published." Personally, while I appreciate boosting Dubhaltach and his work, I think he's too harsh on Keating. It's very easy to judge someone's scholarship when you're living a century ahead of them. He is much more skeptical than Keating, trying to compare native sources up against other contemporary histories of Europe, but he DOES still use LGE as a vital source -- he doesn't discount it or its invasion scheme entirely. He is still very much treating it as a historical document, albeit one that he doesn't fully believe in. (Especially since he's kind of fighting with James MacPherson, of Ossian fame. Because apparently getting into massive public debates with people whose work is enjoying a lot of popularity and that we think involves shoddy research is a time honored tradition in the field.)

But there is a reason why it gets picked up, even into the 20th century, because when you've had your history continually belittled and marginalized, when your language has been driven to the point of near extinction, when you are constantly told that you don't HAVE anything worth being proud of, not compared to the Grand History of England or the classical tradition, that you're a nation of barbarians and beggars...of course you want to believe in it. Of course you want to believe that you can salvage SOMETHING. Especially since these are your ancestors saying it. Your ancestors, reaching across this seemingly insurmountable chasm of time, telling you "look, this is your history." Do I think everyone in medieval Ireland agreed with it? Probably not. There was probably at least one person who was like "well...do we KNOW, though?" In the same way as there were very likely people who thought "King Arthur...did he exist?" Or those oddballs in the modern day who claim the Roman Empire didn't exist. There are always going to be people who are a little skeptical, even of what are the generally accepted truths of a certain time period, but I would say that in general? The trend we see is broad belief, because this is the best historical source that people had for centuries -- they had no reason to strongly doubt it, even if they argued over the details.

#geoffrey keating #charles o'conor #dubhaltach mac fhirbhisigh #the mythological cycle #lebor gabála érenn #irish mythology

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thelovelymissbigbadwolf · 3 days

Text

The Stardew Valley Disaster

They create their characters as usual, with Cloud hosting the server, Angeal, Sephiroth and Genesis requiring the help of Zack to enter.

How did they got the game in the first time? Zack humbly asked Kunsel to find out their emails and hack them in order to create accounts for each, of which Kunsel was responsible for creating.

Even though Zack begged Kunsel to play, he refused, saying he had played enough for the year (aka 400+ hours of SDV)

G: How the hell did you even made those accounts for us?

Z: Secret Santa.

S: You're not smart enough to figure it out on your own. Kunsel or Reno?

Z: Secret S— UH, RUDE?!

A: Rude knows how to hack?

Z: NO! I'm calling Sephiroth rude!

S: No you.

C: Alright server's done, you guys can come in.

After long thirty minutes of AGS making their characters, they went to the loading screen. Since they each had their laptops on the conference room, they could just go local.

Cloud chose Meadowlands, meaning they each started with 15 Hay pieces instead of Parsnip.

And, after Cloud telling them to skip the cutscene, the chaos begun.

Spring, Day #1

The Firsts are shown the Coop and the two chicks, Chip and Dale.

Angeal immediately fall in love with the game.

S: Can we eat them?

A: *slaps the nape of S's neck*

S: OW WHAT GIVES?!

A: Touch them and you're dead meat.

Sephiroth did not ever touched the chicks again or got close to the coop.

Zack teaches Angeal to set the Hay, simple enough.

Genesis got out to explore the sightings, commenting on whoever he sees.

G: Why is there a hobo here? Is that his tent?

C: Oh, must be Linus, he—

G: Can I toss rocks at him and make him leave?

C: ... This is not Animal Crossing, sir.

G: But I don't want a hobo in my village.

C: Too bad, suck it up.

G: Are you forgetting who you're talking to, Cadet?

Z: Uh... Guys?

A: Genesis don't be an asshole at the first person you meet.

G: Ugh. "A stranger? Hello. Don't mind me. I just live out here alone." Hobo.

C: Talk to him one more time.

G: "... Have you come to ridicule me? I'm just minding my own business."

C: And what're you doing?

G: Ridiculing him and I'd do it again.

Zack punches him and starts calling him names, Angeal took him out, scolded the living hell out of him and Genesis has a black eye. It's still 7am in game.

Zack then went to Pelican Town and greeted everyone excitedly and gave a Wild Horseradish.

Z: I'M SO SORRY FOR MY STUPID DUMBASS FRIEND, LINUS!

G: THE FUCK DID YOU JUST CALL ME?!

C: SHUT IT THE TWO OF YOU OR I'M TURNING THE SERVER OFF!

They did shut it.

Angeal went on to clean the farm complaining on the poor maintenance of the place and how lazy their (in game) grandfather is, he then passed out of exhaustion and Cloud calmly explained the mechanics.

A: But that makes no sense, if I'm already a farmer, why would I pass out because of some trees?!

Z: They fell on your head. *Giggle*

A: WHAT?! THAT'S A THING IN THIS GAME?!

C: No! It's not, and we were not farmers prior to that, we worked in an office.

A: Since when— WHY WOULD HE LEAVE A FARM IN SOMEONE INEXPERIENCED?!

C: Why would people hire an inexperienced idiot for a high ranking job?

S: He has a point.

G: Can't deny that.

Z: It's like the vice president.

S: Spoiled kid getting his way before throwing a tantrum.

C: It's not really our case in the game, though, but anyway...

Angeal asked Sephiroth to finish his job since he still had a full energy bar and so he went. He passed out of exhaustion.

Then Genesis went to the beach and met Elliot.

G: Oh! He's elegant! "Ah, the new farmer we've all been expecting... and whose arrival has sparked many a conversation! I'm Elliott... I live in the little cabin by the beach. It's a pleasure to meet you."

C: He's one of the six bachelors.

S: What's a bachelor?

Z: Means you can romance them!

G: WHAT?!

A: There's relationships in this game?

G: AND SEX?!

C: Yes and NO!

Z: But with mods—

C: WE ARE NOT USING MODS!

G: "I can't seem to find the inspiration to begin writing my novel...” HE'S A WRITER??

Z: UGH! GET OFF YOUR FUCKING DUNGEON YOU EMO! I WANNA BEFRIEND YOU GODDAMNIT—

Genesis goes back home once it darkens and Cloud instructs him to sell whatever he found.

Zack goes back and puts what he found.

Cloud does the same.

In the end, there were a few forage items from Genesis. Spring Onions from Cloud. Trash from Zack.

To be continued...

#ff7 #zack fair #cloud strife #sephiroth #angeal hewley #genesis rhapsodos #stardew valley

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centaurianthropology · 9 months

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Late on the train to 'Midst'

Hello all, and it's time once again for me to try to infect you all with my weird niche interests. In this case, it's a podcast that was recently(ish) picked up by Critical Role, which is how I heard about it. But I can say right now that those folks who still follow me from the Magnus Archives day are probably going to enjoy this one. Hell, I think a lot of my followers might, so let me pitch 'Midst' to you.

The Podcast

'Midst' is a narrative podcast with three narrators. So rather than a strict script, it's three people with great voices telling you a story, narrating actions, slipping into and out of different character voices, all set over a really well-engineered sound-and-musicscape. The episodes are loosely outlined, but the actual scripts are improvised between the narrators, weaving in and out of each other's narrations and 'yes and'ing their way into a greater whole. It may sound a little confusing, but I found it surprisingly easy to follow along with. And each episode ranges from 15 minutes to a half-hour, so it's an easy listen. The second season has just begun to release over at the CR YouTube channel (there were 2 seasons out before CR picked it up and is releasing remasters, so beware spoilers if you go to the tag here).

The Setting

Okay, unless you're a nerd like me, the technicalities of the podcast might not mean quite as much to you. But the setting is where things start to get really interesting. This is a space western. Classic, but definitely also not classic. While the vibe is pure space western, with a feel that's vaguely akin to 'Firefly' or 'Trigun' or 'Cowboy Bebop', the actual setting isn't so much space as it is the Un.

The Un is somewhat liminal, a vast sky filled with light from an undetermined source, filled with clouds and glittering mica shards which defy gravity and can slice through almost anything in their way (though they can be deflected). On the largest of these shards some people have set up homes. And elsewhere in the Un are islets, tiny planets that make up the habitable universe of 'Midst'.

There doesn't seem to be a proper central authority in the Un, but the closest thing they have is the Trust, a cult based around the worship of what seems to be a space western stock market, in which all of its members have their deeds (and themselves) weighed and judged. And those people in the Trust, the Trustees, wear their morality literally on their sleeve. Those deemed 'good' either from good deeds or (far more often) from inherited goodness or goodness based on their position in society, have white Valor beads adorning them. Those deemed immoral, or (again more often) in debt have Caenum, black beads denoting how much they owe the Trust. Those Trustees in debt seem to exist in something close to slavery, constantly having to do more and more work to try to break even. And the entire Trust society is built on their backs.

Below the Un is a velvet black fog so thick it lays like an ocean at the bottom of this universe, its surface an obsidian mirror. This is the Fold, a place where a dark mist can penetrate through anything and bring with it Tearrors, events in which the fabric of reality itself seems to tear itself apart. People and things die or go horribly (or sometimes not horribly) wrong thanks to the Tearrors. These Tearrors can be kept at bay with a weird sort of lightbulb, which is how folks can stay alive in the Fold without completely coming apart at the seams.

And there, at the Meridian, half in the Un and half in the Fold, rolling through both to create perhaps the only place in this universe with both a night and a day, weird as both are, is Midst. A small islet of red dust and weird plants and animals. A place where people live and work and die. A place that feels a lot like a western.

And with that, we have our setting. And within this setting are vast array of characters, but for this particular story, there are three protagonists. Each of them is solely narrated by one of the three narrators, and it is around them that the story and the world of Midst unfolds.

Lark

Lark is perhaps the protagonist we know the least about, but she's also the protagonist who feels the most classically western for this space western. She's a monster hunter living on the outskirts of society on Midst. She sells hides, and she has few friends and fewer words. She's gruff, dangerous, and has lived long enough that she's got a dark past and has seen some shit. She also has a red glove that apparently kills anything it touches, which is cool.

Lark is intelligent, grounded, but is also largely a mystery at this point. She's also got a hound dog named Landlord, who is the best, and is the only character who is apparently guaranteed not to die.

Phineas Thatch

Look at this wet cat of an armored man. Everything about him screams try-hard, wannabe, senpai-notice-me energy. If Lark is the western character, Phineas is the space character, hailing from the Trust. He is in debt, but also the Adsecla (second in command) of an elite group of cop-soldier-celebrities. The media follows them everywhere, which is something of a problem for a guy who is terrible with people and the media in particular. Phineas is a decent guy, fairly good at his job, but nothing he ever does is good enough, and all his best instincts are being systematically squashed by the cult he has fanatically devoted himself to. There is no one who believes in the Trust more than Phineas, even as it's griding him down to nothingness.

If you like a character who is pathetic even when he's doing cool things, who never wins, whose struggles all seem to come to nothing, and you can't quite figure out if the universe just hates him or if he's his own worst enemy (it's probably both), then Phineas is the character for you.

Moc Weepe

Look at him. Just look at this weird, alabaster, spidery guy. I know that I and many of my followers love a bastard man, and Mr. Weepe is a grade A bastard man. He is a co-owner of a cabaret on Midst, and he oozes his way through every scene he's in with some of the best lines and worst actions of the podcast. He has the power to be both alluring and repellant, he's got an absolutely delightfully bizarre voice and and even weirder laugh (and yet is also part of a really cool musical number), and he is both terrifying and pathetic all at the same time. This asshole contains multitudes. And a lot of those multitudes revolve around screwing someone over for his own gain.

He should be the least sympathetic of the protagonists. Lark is a cool and aloof badass. Phineas wants to be a good man. Weepe? He wants to be rich. He wants to be powerful. He is also constantly plagued by a mysterious medical condition that seems to have been brought on by exposure to an extremely severe and almost-lethal Tearror. He is somehow, weirdly, sympathetic, at least up to a point, and not nearly as clever as he thinks he is. What can I say? I am predictable, and Moc Weepe is definitely my favorite of the protagonists, even if he's demonstrably the worst.

I won't spoil the plot, as that's part of the fun. I can at least spoil the first scene, which is also the finale of the first season (they loop back to explain how they got to this event throughout the run of the first season): we are on Midst. All three protagonists are there.

And the moon has just exploded in the sky.

#midst podcast #an introduction to tempt others to get into this thing with me #join me!!#Lark #Phineas Thatch #Moc Weepe

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