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chaoticharrington · 4 months

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Chapter Four: The Dungeon Master and Depression

***BEFORE YOU READ ANY FURTHER THERE IS GOING TO BE SEX, HEAVY BDSM THEMES, AND OTHER GENERAL NSFW THINGS. IF YOU ARE A MINOR/A BLANK BLOG/ A BLOG WITH NO AGE PLEASE DO NOT INTEREACT! IF I SEE IT, I WILL BLOCK IMMEDIATELY! THANKS!<3***

Pairing: Professor! Steve Harrington x Best Friends Dad! Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Angst, alcohol consumption, Steve needs a hug, sad Steve, Eddie being the literal sexiest man on the planet, daddy kink, spit kink, spanking, cum eating, squirting, bondage, masterbation, Dom! Eddie, dirty talk, pet names, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it folks), BDSM themes, Eddie and Steve are in their early to mid 40s and reader is in her mid 20s

Summary: Eddie shows you a side of him you haven't seen before and things with Steve take a turn for the worst

Authors Note: Hi yall, i just wanted to say thank you for all the love on this series so far, ive really enjoyed writing it! also im very nervy about posting this chapter bc the smut is intense! i prommy it wont always be this intense but anyways ENJOY :D 9k

**Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Five**

(banners and headers by @cafekitsune)

The next few days were spent mostly consoling Violet, she had made the decision to break up with Quinn. She didn’t trust them anymore and you didn’t blame her. You and Eddie took turns holding her when she cried or getting her to shower and eat food. It left little time for you and Eddie to spend time alone, never getting the chance to finish what you started after your date.

You could steal kisses here and there, but no heavy petting. It was driving you insane, it was like the universe was punishing you for dating your best friend’s dad.

After a few days she decided she needed to get out of Hawkins for a little while and went to spend a week at her mom’s. You made her promise to text her whenever she needed, and Eddie offered again to go over to talk to Quinn. She waved both of you off, reassuring you that she’d be fine. You drove her to the airport and off she went.

It made you feel guilty that you were so relieved that she had left, you felt like you were the worst best friend in the world. First dating her dad, and secondly happy she was leaving you after just having a brutal break-up.

What kind of friend are you?

You spent the next few days catching up on school, finally getting a chance to focus now that you didn’t have to worry about Violet as much. Not wanting to waste the very limited time the two of you had at Eddies, you spent the nights at his house covering the entire house in random textbooks and various versions of assignments. Sometimes the two of you would sit on the couch, he would watch tv while you studied, or you’d be in a chair out in the garage while Eddie played guitar and smoked. Or your favorite, cuddled up on his lap on his bed, Eddie silently reading a book and caressing the skin available to him.

It was perfect domestic bliss, he’d cook the two of you breakfast in the morning, and he’d come home to a homecooked meal in the evening. The only thing you were missing was his cock, mid terms were coming up and you were absolutely swamped. Spending all of your time that wasn’t spent at school, or working, was dedicated to more school. It was frying your brain.

Then one day you had finally had enough, another one of your professors had added another paper due on top of studying for all of your other exams. You had so many things you needed to get done before Thanksgiving you thought your head was going to explode.

You spent some time crying in your car that day, before walking up the driveway into Eddies house. Now a second home to you, you take off your shoes and head to Eddies bedroom and snuggling under the sheets, breathing in his scent. You hear Eddies familiar footsteps coming up the stairs into the bedroom the two of you basically shared.

“hey sweetpea-“ the rest of his greeting dying on his lips.

You feel him before you see him, he just slides into bed with you and holds you tightly against him. Then you lose it some more, crying into one of his pillows, just so stressed out. You needed all of it to go away, you didn’t want to think anymore.

He pushes the hair out of your face and wipes away your tears, “hey talk to me baby, what’s goin on? Hmm?” he questions, concern in his voice.

“It’s too much” you croak, turning over and nuzzling your face into his chest.

“Make it go away, please make it go away, my brain is so tired, I just need a break!” you sob harder into his embrace.

Eddie wrapped his arms around your body, protecting you from the outside world.

“I know baby, I know, I’m so sorry, I’m so fucking sorry” he says calmly, leaving little kisses in your hair.

The two of you tangled up together in silence, just him touching your skin and you holding on to him for dear life. It stays like this for a few minutes. You can practically hear Eddies mind working a thousand miles a minute.

“... do you really want it to go away?” Eddie asks, almost a whisper.

You nodded feverishly into his chest, grabbing his shirt and pulling him impossibly closer to you.

“Please,” you whisper into his chest.

Eddie pulls the two of you apart so you can see his face, his eyes serious with anticipation. He caresses your cheek with his hand, running his thumb across your lips.

“I wanna show you something, you don’t have to say yes. But I think it might help.” He says, waiting for your answer.

You nod your head, ready to try anything to get your brain to calm down. He takes you by your hands, carefully getting you up and on your feet. Being so gentle with you, almost like he was afraid you’d break if he moved to quick or touched you too hard. Eddie led you down the stairs into the kitchen, right in front of the basement door.

He looked at you anxiously, you rarely if ever saw him anxious, it made your heart rate spike a little feeding off his nervous energy.

He opens the door and leads you down into the basement, immediately confused by Eddies immense anxiety. It’s just a basement, it had loads of Eddies DnD books nicely tucked away on bookshelves, a huge circular table in the middle with papers scattered all over it, and a bunch of props and miniatures that you assumed Eddie used for various DnD campaigns. Eddie meets you at the bottom of the stairs and puts his hand in yours, his eyes still timid.

“Sorry it’s a bit of a mess, I’ve been working on a new campaign.” He says while nervously scratching the back of his head. You squeeze his hand giving him some reassurance.

“Look, I know we haven’t been dating very long, but I really fucking like you. So just bear with me kay? I don’t wanna scare you off,” he states, fiddling with your fingers in his hands.

“You could never scare me off Eddie” you say plainly, having more admiration for him than almost anybody else.

With a sigh he guides you past all the DnD stuff into a hidden black door under the stairs, the door locked with a key padlock.

Eddie grabs a key off a chain that’s on his neck that he wears every day, you always thought it was just for decoration and not practical use. He turns the key into the lock and leads you into a dark room and turns on the light.

It takes a second for your eyes to adjust to the room, not really sure what you’re seeing. The walls are blood red, various toys, whips, paddles, and a saint Andrews cross leaning in the corner between two walls. At the center of the room was a bed with black satin sheets, with a black bed frame with various hooks and chains attached to it.

You look at Eddie in surprise, you didn’t expect him to have a whole fucking sex dungeon in his basement. You were impressed, you usually only read about stuff like this in your books. Never thinking that you’d actually get to experience it in real life.

“This is uh, welcome to my dungeon” he says, grandiosely waving his hands to show off the room, chuckling nervously to himself. You smile lightly at him, still your goofy Eddie.

“You can totally tell me to fuck off, and we don’t ever have to talk about this ever again, scouts honor. I just.. I thought maybe because of the books you like to read. Maybe we had uhm similar interests,” he says, closing the door behind the two of you.

You’re still in awe of what you see before you, finding something new to look at every second, you start to feel yourself getting excited. The anxiety melting away the longer you were in this room, like it was magic.

“Please say something, anything, you’re killin’ me here darlin,” he says, pulling your hand to his lips, leaving tiny kisses in their wake.

You walk farther into the room, dusting your fingers along the various toys and instruments on the wall. Eddie follows suit, rubbing his arms up and down your shoulders while you look. You turn around and wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a deep kiss. He looks at you hungrily, waiting for your next move, you’ve never wanted him more.

“Turn off my brain Eds, please,” you beg, putting on your prettiest doe eyes.

Eddie curses under his breath and shakes his head trying to concentrate. He hugs you tightly as a thank you that you didn’t run out of the room kicking and screaming. He sits the two of you on a bench at the foot of the bed, holding your hands in his.

“Alright sweetness, I gotta lay down a few rules before we play, okay?” He says, clearly in his element. You nod, understanding what he means. Being familiar with the world of BDSM, but never getting to act on it before.

“First things first, safe words, If I ask you for your color, you respond with Green, Yellow, or Red. Green meaning you’re okay mentally and physically and I can keep going. Yellow meaning that you’re reaching your limit and I need to check in with you. Red meaning stop, you say this word and whatever scene we are doing will stop immediately and we will go into aftercare. I want you to feel safe during every single part of this, so don’t be afraid to stop a scene, okay? This is supposed to be fun for the both of us. Ya with me so far?” He smiles lightly trying to keep the tension light but letting know that he means business.

“With ya Eds,” you say with a nod of your head.

You can practically hear his heart swelling with pride. He continues to go through some more safety rules, what to do if you’re bound or gagged and can’t say a safe word. He goes through some walk throughs of what some of the various toys do, to see what piques your interest. He asks you if you know any of your hard or soft limits, you give him some basic ones, open to a lot considering you didn’t have a ton of real life experience in this department. You were starting to get a little nervous, hoping that you would live up to Eddies expectations.

He senses the panic inside you and squeezes your hands. “Don’t worry okay? You agreeing to try this with me is already a dream come true, I just want to help you feel better, help you let go.” He says sweetly.

You take a deep breath and lean back into him on the bench. He rubs his hands soothingly up and down your arms and then around your waist, tugging up the bottom of your shirt and lifting it over your head, and does the same with your leggings. He has you stand in front of him, leaving you in only your bra and underwear, your skin erupting in goosebumps when it hits the cold air.

“Beautiful,” he says breathlessly, his eyes scanning over every inch of your body. You look at him, you can see his cock already stiffening in the confines of his pants.

“Bend over for me baby,” he commands. Situating you over his lap, ass in the air, making your thoughts immediately cloud with want. You had never been in such a compromising position before and you loved it, showing yourself off to him.

“I’ll start slow, remember, any time you need to stop just say red and I’ll stop okay?” he reminds you one last time before he starts.

He readies you by palming each of your cheeks with his hands, increasing the pressure with each touch. You can already feel the heat rising in your body, your legs squirming together trying to find any sort of friction. Eddie seeing your desperation grabs your legs forcing them apart with his leg.

“You’re so fuckin cute, you’ll learn,” he warns, earning you a light slap across your left check. You gasp not expecting it, making your eyes roll back in pleasure, grinding your hips against Eddie’s clothed legs.

Two more light slaps come down on each cheek, eliciting a whimper from your lips, your hips grinding up wanting more. You can feel his length twitch underneath you with every smack, and your wetness seeping into your panties, you’d never been this desperate in your life.

“What’s your color princess, you doin okay?” he questions, genuine concern in his voice that makes your heart swell.

“Green Eds, m’ good,” you say hazily, your mind starting to cloud over.

With that confirmation he slowly increases the intensity of each slap, switching between your two cheeks. It only made you whimper louder, wanting even more. The slaps were now punishing, surely your cheeks bright pink from the abuse. You were surprised, you never thought something like this would feel so good. But you couldn’t help it, your panties now completely soaked through.

“You like that, you like when I hurt you?” he says, leaning into the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You nod wildly, not trusting your words.

You hear Eddie click his tongue, “Nuh uh pretty girl, down here you gotta use your words. Now I’m gonna ask again, you like it when I hurt you?” he demands, landing two more harsh slaps against your bottom.

“Yes, yes Eddie I like when you hurt me” you say desperately. Your body buzzing, every cell screaming with need. Your mind thinking of only him and the pain he gives you, mind completely blank.

“Good girl baby, doin such a good job” he praises, you smile at his praise, sinking further and further away from all the worries that had bothered you not a half hour ago.

He lands an especially mean slap on your right cheek pulling a loud moan out of your mouth, you can hear Eddies laugh vibrate through his chest.

“Fuck look at you baby, taking everything I give you. You’re my little pain slut aren’t you?” he mocks, tutting and rubbing at your now very red ass.

“Mhmm” you mutter brainlessly, trying to push your legs together, your clit on fire with need.

“Words pretty girl, I need words, that’s your last warning before you regret it,” he warns, gifting you another brutal slap.

“Y-yes, your pain slut, all yours,” you babble pathetically, desperate tears begging to spill from your eyes.

“Fuck me, yeah you are, C’mere let me look at you, get on your knees f’me” he says breathlessly, helping you off his lap and down between his legs. You lay your head against one of his knees, looking up at him between your eyelashes.

He brushes his hand across your cheek, rubbing your lips with his thumb. In your brainless state you allow his thumb into your mouth sucking on it while maintaining eye contact. You felt so free, knowing that he was going to take care of you, that you didn’t have to think anymore, giving up control gave your brain freedom that you wouldn’t have otherwise.

“Perfect” he utters, barely above a whisper, mesmerized by the way your mouth was sucking his thumb in, swirling the tip of his thumb with your tongue. Wanting more than just his thumb you tug on his pants and belt with your hand, but it wasn’t your turn to be in control. Eddie pulls the bottom of your chin up, straining your neck to meet his demand.

He pinches your cheeks together, forcing your mouth open wider. He takes his thumb out of your mouth replacing it with his pointer and middle fingers, seeing how deep you can put them down your throat. While maintaining eye contact, you suck his fingers all the way to the back of your throat until you choke lightly on them.

“You look so pretty with your mouth all full” he says as he leans down to leave a kiss on the side of your very full mouth.

All the praise becoming too much, squirming aimlessly in the air, whimpering around Eddies fingers. He seems to get a kick out of your desperation, cursing under his breath. All made more apparent by his very hard cock outlined in his pants.

“Alright sweet thing, climb up on the bed for me” he commands, tapping the silk sheets on the bed. You do as your told, meanwhile Eddie removes his shirt, belt, and pants. You look at him hungrily, with the playing field now level.

He sits down onto the bed next to you, pulling you into a deep kiss. Your bodies melt together, his hands everywhere, grabbing every inch of you. The two of you relax onto the bed, letting him kiss and nip and your skin, slowly taking off your bra and panties until you were completely bare in front of him.

He pulls your legs apart, not allowing you to hide any part of yourself from him. You were embarrassed by how wet you had gotten just from that act alone, he barely touched you.

Eddie curses under his breath, pulling apart your folds to see you dripping down your thighs.

“My needy needy girl”, he coos, dipping one of his fingers into your entrance, gathering some of your release on his fingers. He brings it up to your mouth, you suck in his fingers eagerly, wanting to please. Your release taste tangy and sweet, you moan around his fingers at the dirty act. Dipping his fingers back at your entrance, taking some of your release for himself, moaning around his fingers.

Focusing his attention back on you, he straddles you and puts your hands above your head and kisses you deeply. You feel him grind against your core making you buck up against him. Your groans filling the room, the tension becoming too much to bear.

“Need you eds, please,” you beg, the pressure between your legs driving you insane. That’s the only confirmation Eddie needed before taking his boxers off, sliding his throbbing cock in between your soaked folds. You wrap your legs around his back, pushing him harder against you.

He lines up his cock up to your entrance and slowly pushes in, his length pushing up against your cervix as he bottoms out. You whine, biting down on his shoulder, provoking a curse from his mouth.

“Color baby?” he asks breathlessly against your skin.

“Green Eds, really fucking green,” you grin against his shoulder, kissing the tattoo along his jaw.

Your words, diminishing the last of his resolve as he starts to thrust in and out of your heat slowly. Your eyes glass over, the pleasure being too much, you had never been so full. Not even your dildo doing half as much as Eddies cock.

“Shit, your pussy was fucking made for me, made to take my fucking cock,” he growls, biting down on a part of your neck, trying to contain his groans and whines.

You dig your claws into his back, wishing him deeper inside of you. Eddie using that as an okay to go faster, he grabs an edge of the bed frame for leverage. The wet sounds of his cock entering you drowning out your whimpers and moans.

“Uh, uh, uh, oh, fuuuckk E-eddie” you wail, your eyes rolling back and your mouth falling open.

“You like that baby, you like it when I fuck you like the little slut you are? All you needed was a few slaps on your ass for you do go dumb huh?” he mocks, pistoning harder into your core.

“Yes, yes I fucking love it, more please,” you beg, you wanted to see how much more you could handle, the pleasure building between your legs.

Eddie takes one of his hands off the bed frame, cupping the sides of your jaw with his hand.

“Open,” he demands. You obey, all rational thoughts gone long ago. Taking the opportunity, he spits sloppily into your mouth, you swallow and take what he gives your greedily.

“Atta girl, doing what your told” he sighs proudly, going back to concentrating rocking his hips against yours with vigor. You could feel yourself getting close, all of it becoming too much, the fucking, the slapping, the dirty talk, it was all perfect. You were plummeting quickly to your release, your walls spasming in anticipation.

“If you keep squeezing me like that m’ not gonna last much longer,” he confesses, leaving little kisses on your neck.

“Eds- I- fuck- I’m gonna cum- please cum in me please, need your cum,” you beg, feeling your release threatening to take over.

“Fuck,” he curses, you can feel his pace getting sloppier, fucking you through your release. Your legs shaking, mouth open in a silent scream, eyes glazed over, having the biggest orgasm you’ve ever had in your life.

Your walls clamp down on Eddie, not lasting much longer after you, spilling his seed into your waiting center. You feel his release spill out onto your thighs and sheets.

“Please tell me you’re on the pill” he mutters into your chest, sweat covering both of your bodies. You giggle and caress his hair, playing with his dark brown and greying curls.

“Yeah, ‘m on the pill,” you confirm, leaving a kiss at the top of his head. Eddie sighs thankfully on your chest, followed by a few minutes of silence from the two of you. Basking in each others after sex glow, gentle touches and light kisses.

You stay cuddled up for a while, neither of you wanted to go back to reality. The basement was like your safe place, where both of you could let go, like really let go. He saw things in you today that up until now, you had never let anyone see that side of you. He allowed you the same, taking down his walls showing you everything he had to offer.

He showed that he really cared about you, that he could take care of you even when your brain was against you. That was something you had never had before, someone who knew you and cared about you enough to help you fight the endless battles in your brain. You swore to yourself right there that you’d help him fight his battles too.

After a while he got up and got you a glass of water and a warm washcloth to help wipe you off. Your center still sensitive from your previous activities. Eddie was gentle, taking his time, making sure you were physically okay. He even put cream on your sore, soon to be bruised ass, after many many kisses that made you blush.

His teddy bear eyes looking into yours, while the two of you lay naked in bed, him painting circles on your face.

“How’s your head now baby? Better?” he asked hopeful. Tears form at the tips of your eyes, you nod your head vigorously. Your tears making Eddies eyes fill with concern.

“What baby? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” he asks soothingly.

You shake your head, trying to find the words for what you were feeling. “No no I’m fine, I’m just.. happy. My brain is so quiet, I can’t remember the last time my brain was so quiet.” You sob into Eddies chest, pulling him closer into you. He wraps his arms around you and shushes your tears, wiping them from your face leaving little kisses in their wake.

“It’s okay baby, I’m here, I gotcha” he says, comforting you with more kisses, squeezing you tighter against him. The two of you spend the rest of the night down in the basement, eventually falling asleep in each other’s arms, completely content.

When you wake up the following morning, you are still wrapped up in each other’s arms, Eddie still lightly snoring. You take this time to really take him in, his beautiful chocolate brown eyes, the laugh lines around his lips, his lips so pink and plush, the light wrinkles around his eyes, the dark curly brown hair that falls in front of his face, you didn’t know how you got so lucky. Not only is Eddie quite literally the sweetest man you had ever met in your life, but he’s also the most handsome.

You snuggle back into him, basking in his embrace. A little while later he wakes from sleep, stretching out, allowing you to get up and go to the bathroom.

“Hey little missy where do you think you’re goin?” he asks, pouting in bed patting the space where you were previously occupying.

“Just gotta pee,” you whisper, hoping maybe he will fall back asleep, but Eddie is stubborn.

“Just hold it, come back and cuddle,” he whines. You chuckle and kiss the top of his head before putting on his Metallica t shirt and heading out the door and up the stairs to the kitchen. You walk into the downstairs bathroom and gasp at the state you were left in. You still had mascara smudges under your eyes from crying and cumming, your hair was sticking up every which way, you looked a mess. And yet the beautiful man downstairs still wanted you, lucky you.

After you clean up a little and comb through your hair, you head to the kitchen to grab the two of you something to eat. You hear the basement door open, and the man you were just thinking about emerges, wearing only his boxers.

“I get to fuck the girl of my dreams AND she made me breakfast, I can die a happy man,” he remarks, enveloping you into a passionate kiss. You giggle against him, still not used how much he likes you.

“And you’re wearing my shirt,” he comments, taking a handful of your ass in each hand making you hiss, your butt still sore from the beating it received the day before.

“Just wanna touch base, everything yesterday was okay right? It wasn’t exactly what I picture our first time to be like but, I don’t regret it. You are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen, definitely did not disappoint,” he expresses.

“It was better than I could’ve imagined Ed, really. You were beautiful.” You confess, going on your tippy toes to steal a kiss from him.

The two of you spend the rest of the morning cuddled up on the couch eating breakfast, before you had to part ways. You had classes most of the day and Eddie had to go into the office for work.

Leaving Eddie was the hardest part of any day, but especially today. You had Steves class today, you always dreaded going after everything went down between the two of you. You wished to stay here forever.

The two of you share way too many last kisses before the two of you leave his house in your respective cars. You needed to go to your apartment before class to change, and then Sociology 101.

You waited as long as you possibly could before going into the classroom, you’ve started a routine of avoiding Steve as much as humanly possible. But when you entered the class, instead of being met by Steves sad eyes, you were met by a balding older man with grey hair. You look around at the rest of the class as you make your way to your seat, they also seem equally as confused as you. The man in the front of the class introduces himself as Professor McCarthy, he explained that he was going to take over for Steve for the time being.

“Where is Professor Harrington?” The girl who sits behind you asks, a slight whine in her voice.

“He has taken a seemingly well-deserved sabbatical,” Professor McCarthy confesses with zero empathy in his voice.

You can barely pay attention during class, your thoughts swimming threatening to drown you.

Why did he leave?

Was it because of you?

Does Robin know?

Was he forced to take a leave?

Did people find out about the two of you?

You hated to admit it, but a small part of your brain was trying to say something. Loud enough for you to hear it through the madness.

Is he okay?

You didn’t know why, but you still cared about Steve. Even though he hurt you, you wanted to know he was alright. After so many weeks of getting to know him, you knew how much being a teacher meant to him. You knew how passionate he is about the subject he teaches; it worried you that he could just leave. It had to mean something was really wrong.

The rest of the class goes by in a blur, the new professors voice conveniently very easy to drone out. You were the first one to leave the room once class was over. Speed walking down the hall, heading to the only place you knew you’d find answers.

You knock on the door to Robins office, hoping that she was in today.

“Come in!” she calls out.

She looks startled when she sees you standing in her doorway, expecting to see a student with questions about an assignment.

“Uh, hi.” You say awkwardly, still standing in the doorway.

“Hey Y/N, come in, why don’t you sit down,” she offers kindly, already knowing why you’re here.

“Where is he?” you ask bluntly.

Robin sighs before answering, her eyes moving, trying to think of the best way to explain it to you.

“He just needed a break, and the board allowed it,” she says plainly

“I wanna talk to him,” you confess, words leaving your mouth before you could think. Yes, you were upset with Steve, definitely hurt. But that doesn’t mean that you wanted him to leave his job, the both of you are adults. You feel guilty, like you’re the reason he left, and you needed closure.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea honey,” Robin says empathetically.

Your heart drops.

“Please? At least think about it, okay? I’m not mad anymore, I just, I wanna make sure he’s okay,” you admit, hoping to clear the air.

Robin nods and promises that she’ll think about it, but she didn’t seem very convincing. The following days after, dragged on, still piled high with homework. Made worse now because your new sociology professor is the worst, he talked too fast and without any tone in his voice, you caught a few students falling asleep in his class, it was that bad.

Eddie helped a lot, staying over at your house some nights to cuddle up with you after staring at your computer screen for hours on end. You felt guilty that you were so worried about Steve, when you had the perfect man in front of you. You convinced yourself it was just guilt, you just wanted to make sure he’s okay.

Then you got lucky, one morning when you walked into Robins classroom, where you usually sat was a note.

“Here’s his number, don’t make me regret it.” Was etched into the paper.

Your heart flutters in anticipation as hope fills your chest. You spend time after class thinking about the right thing to say, do you text him? Do you call him? You decide on a text, thinking a text is less daunting than calling him.

“Hey Steve, its Y/N. heard about ur sabbatical, hope ur okay” Not really sure what to say, your finger hovers over the send button for a few seconds before you send it. Immediately followed by you throwing your phone across the room.

What the fuck are you doing?

You spend the next couple of hours on your laptop doing your homework, sneaking peaks at your phone, triple checking that you hadn’t missed any messages from Steve. You reasoned with yourself that he might be on vacation or at least just busy. You try to get out of your head and focus on your homework.

The next few days you spent checking your phone every once in awhile looking for a text from Steve that hadn’t come. You were starting to get anxious, even a little worried. The semester was coming to a close, all your assignments turned in and only one mid term left to take. You had come to terms with the idea that Steve just wasn’t going to text you back, he didn’t owe you anything, I guess you’d just have to find closure on your own.

Until one afternoon, the day before thanksgiving, you get a text.

“I miss u”

You stare at your phone, double checking that the text was coming from the right number, Steve’s number. Concern floods your system, this is unlike him.

“Steve? R u okay?”

“I meszed it all up Y/N, im sry”

You’re heart now threatening to beat out of your chest, something was wrong, really wrong. You’re old enough to know when you’re getting a drunk text, what if he was out somewhere alone in this state? You needed to make sure he was okay, or at least somewhere safe.

“Steve tell me where u are, r u safe?”

“Come overrr” is all that is written, followed by a ping to an address. You grab your keys and your coat without a second thought. You get in your car and drive faster than what was probably safe, thoughts only on Steve.

When you finally get to the address, it takes you to a huge house on the outside of town. You let yourself through the gate and park in the huge driveway. You knock on the front door, it squeaks open lightly, you take deep breath and let yourself in. The house is massive, like really big, like old money big. The place is so big, you wander around for a little while searching the various extravagant rooms on the first floor until you find Steve in what you assume is the study.

He's slumped over onto his desk, his hand holding a fancy glass filled with amber liquid. You knock on the side of the door, jostling Steve from his drunk stupor.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” his words slightly slurred.

“Uh, you texted me, you gave me this address,” you feel your heart drop into your stomach, you knew this was a bad idea.

You see Steve’s bloodshot eyes search for the memory of sending you his address, raking his hands through his hair. Steve looked like he hadn’t taken care of himself for awhile, stains all over t-shirt and sweatpants. Your heart ached seeing him this way, guilt washed over you like a tsunami. This entire time you were thinking about yourself and your own closure, and not about the clearly broken man sitting before you.

“This was a mistake, I should go,” you admit before turning in the doorway to leave the way you came in.

“No, p-please wait! I- fuck everything is so fucked up I don’t know what to do anymore. Just stay.” He looks up at you through his glassy red eyes, begging you to stay.

You decide to stay, you step closer to his desk to get a better look at the state he’s in. He probably hasn’t showered in days, and he reeked of alcohol.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” is all you can think to say, you can’t stand to see him this way any longer.

Steve allows you to get him up and out of the chair, the two of you half stumble while he shows you how to get to the master bathroom. You help him get out of his clothes until he’s left in just his boxers, you do your best not to stare. Even in the state he’s in, you still fought the urge to drool at the sight of him. You turn on the hot water, and look at him sitting on the toilet almost completely naked.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he mumbles groggily.

You suck in a deep breath and let it out harshly, you had always known that. If you knew anything about Steve Harrington, you know that he couldn’t hurt a fly. But you couldn’t believe anything he was saying right now. He was still drunk, and you didn’t know how he was going to feel once he sobered up.

“Why don’t you get in the shower, and we can talk once you’re out, okay?” you reassure him, leaving the room to give him space.

His bedroom was a mess, clothes and random liquor bottles everywhere, you tidy it up the best you can before making your way back downstairs to the kitchen. The kitchen is huge, meant for a chef or someone who really likes to cook. But instead, you see containers of take out and microwave dinners piled in the over flowing garbage and more dishes crowding in the sink. You take out the garbage and do the dishes.

By the time you’re finishing up the dishes you hear footsteps pattering into the kitchen.

“Hi” he says meekly.

“Hi” you reply, placing the last dish into the dishwasher.

He stands next to you, one hand on the counter and one hand on his hip, trying to think of what to say. He opens and closes his mouth, but nothing comes out.

“It’s fine really Steve, I’m happy to help,” you confess, turning your body to face him.

Steve looks down at his hands, when he looks back up at you, fresh tears have formed on his lash line.

“I’m the worst, aren’t I?” he questions, his voice breaking.

Your heart broke with him, “No Steve, you’re not the worst. At little messed up, definitely. But far from the worst.”

He looks at you gratefully before he continues speaking.

“I- I thought you hated me. I swear I didn’t mean to hurt you. I don’t know how I screwed things up so badly. I’m sorry I brought you all the way out here. I just... fuck I just missed you Y/N,” he babbles, his tears now flowing down his face in little streams.

You walk a few steps closer to him, not trusting yourself to touch him.

Eddie, remember Eddie.

“I don’t hate you Steve, I could never hate you. I was just hurt and confused. Honestly, I still am hurt and confused, I just. I couldn’t bear the thought of you not teaching or being upset because of me. That’s why I came,” you reassure him, hoping your eyes show him the rest. That you do care for him, and want him to be okay.

Steve nods, mulling over your words, wiping his eyes. Then you hear some buzzing on the marble kitchen counter. Steve’s phone goes off, he looks at his phone and answers it immediately. You can hear Robins worried voice on the other end of the phone anxiously babbling questions off at him. You felt good knowing that even if you weren’t in Steves life, he still had Robin.

“No, ugh Rob I’m fine, please you don’t need to come and check on me.”

“Yes, I’ve showered. NO! Don’t bring Nancy, I don’t want her to see me like this.” He rubs his forehead, probably nursing a headache.

Steve hangs up the phone and looks at you.

“Uhm, Rob is coming over, and.. you probably shouldn’t be here when she gets here” he says awkwardly, he looks like he has more to say but decided against it.

You nod your head in understanding. Steve walks you to the front door, thanks you a million more times before waving you off as you get in your car and drive away.

You pull of on the side of the road, a few blocks from Steves place. You put your arms around the steering wheel, thinking about what just happened.

He is just a friend, someone you care about who needed your help.

You shake your head out of your thoughts and head back to your apartment. As you pull into the parking lot your phone dings, you park your car and look at the notification lighting up your phone screen.

“Come over stinky butt 🍑”

You smile at your phone, of course it’s Eddie, the one who makes you feel safe. The one you don’t have to take care of or worry about, your rock. You put your car in reverse, and drive towards Eddies house. The closer you get to Eddies house, the more every loud thought of Steve was quieting to a whisper, you sigh in relief.

“Vi?!” you say cautiously, a routine you were now used to.

Eddie pokes his head out of the kitchen, “Just me babe” a smile plastered across his face. You smile back and head into the kitchen, only to immediately be scooped up into a hug and lifted off your feet. You breathe in Eddies scent, allowing it to ground you back into your reality.

“Mmm missed you,” Eddie murmurs in between kisses. You wrap your arms around his waist, deepening the kiss.

“Missed you too Eds,” Eddie groans against you, pushing you against the counter.

The two of you kiss some more, allowing yourselves to get lost in each other. When you finally pull back you look into Eddies eyes, they just seem tired. You cup your hand around his face, and his cups your hand with his; grateful for the affection.

“Can I show you something?” he asks, only admiration in his eyes. You kiss him as a yes, and let him guide you back down into the basement. You stomach doing flips remembering the last time the two of you spent time down here. But this time he leads you into the main room. The circular table previously covered in random campaign research, now completely clean except for two stacks of paper in front a chair at the head of the table.

He pulls back the chair, next to the head and ushers you into it. You sit down, looking at him inquisitively. He sits down at the head of the table, clearing his voice before he speaks.

“So, the other day, I really liked seeing that side of you. And I wanted to know if you felt the same way, and if maybe you wanted to do it again,” he confesses, searching for the answer in your eyes. His gaze lights a fire in your belly, and a growing ache between your legs, remember the previous activities down here.

You bite your lip and look at him, trying to find the right words, “I’d like that a lot, I like when you take control,” you confide in him, nudging your leg against his under the table. Eddie takes in a deep breath before speaking again, “I just wanted to go over some more safety stuff, if we are going to really do this, and not have it be a one time thing,” handing you one of the stacks of paper in front of him.

He goes onto explain to you that this is not a contract, but more of a mostly complete list of limits that he wanted the two of you to fill out before playing again. He clarifies that the reason for this is so that neither of you ever accidently make the other feel uncomfortable during a scene. Your eyes looking over the papers curiously, overwhelmed by all the different things listed. He had to explain a few of them to you, him being more experienced than you were. You could feel the tension in the room heating up, and your panties dampening.

Finally, you’re on the last page, your knee bouncing up and down in anticipation.

“Where is Violet?” you ask, a little bit too much excitement in your voice. You see his eyes darken and a smirk splay across his lips.

“She’s working night shift” he says grabbing your chair and bringing it closer to his side, grabbing your thigh harshly.

You let out a shaky breath, you needed this, him. You go to put your hand around his neck to pull him into a kiss, but he grabs your wrist.

“Finish what I’ve asked of you pretty girl” leaving a kiss at the shell of your, evoking goosebumps across your skin.

You swallow hard, all the moisture gone from your mouth. You look back down on the paper, finishing it as fast at you can before looking back up at him for more instructions.

“Good job baby, I’m proud of you. You follow instructions so well” he praises, leaving a light kiss on your cheek. He pulls his eyes away from you for a bit, looking through all of your limits or things you are willing to try. You take this time to do the same with him, shocked by a few things, but even more turned on. Once you’re done reading you look up to see him staring at you hungrily.

“Ready to play sweet thing?” he says, pupils blown in lust.

“Ready,” you say breathlessly, willing air into your lungs.

“One more thing before we start, I like Daddy and Master, just so you know,” he winks at you, and it takes everything in you to stop your knees from buckling.

He takes you by your hand and walks with you to the secret door under the stairs. Your body buzzing, wanting to touch the man in front of you anywhere and everywhere. He opens the door and lets the two of you in. Once the door is closed, he envelops you into a deep kiss, you whimper at his lips on yours.

“Mm fuck, I love your little noises” he hisses, lifting you up by your legs and guiding you to wrap them around his waist. He sits down on the bed, leaving you to straddle his waist. The sheets were changed since you were here last, now a silky maroon color. You take the opportunity to grind your hips down on his lap while he grabs at the skin available to him, the two of you moaning into each other’s mouths. His lips tasting like the last cigarette he smoked, chasing his tongue with yours. You could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter, the way his bulge was rubbing against your clit could make you cum right now with how worked up you are. You moan a little louder into Eddies mouth, making him pull back and look at your already fucked out expression.

“Look at you baby, already so desperate” he teases, lifting you off of him for a second to slide your leggings and panties off. He guides you back onto his lap, situating his fingers at your center, swiping them through your folds. Lifting his hands up to find them glistening with your juices.

“And already so fucking wet, such a needy little slut” he says, sticking his fingers into his mouth. You go back to grinding your hips against his bulge, not being able to help yourself, your clit aching with need.

Eddie stills your hips with his hand, grabbing at your ass and tits roughly before taking off your shirt, leaving you naked except your bra. Eddie takes this time to kiss all the skin newly available to him. You moan loudly into the open room, trying your best to obey and not rock your hips against his.

This task became harder and harder the longer his lips were on yours, kissing that spot on your neck that you like, nipping at your lips, kissing your newly exposed nipples. It was all too much, you grind your hips into his without thinking, and that’s when he swiftly turns the turns the two of you over. You can feel the silk sheets against your back, and his hands on your hips. You whine in protest, trying to rock your hips into his once more.

“Awe, my girl just can’t stay still huh? I can help with that,” He taunts, leaving you to lay on the bed, going into the little nightstand on the side of the bed.

He comes back into view holding leather cuffs in his hands, and a sinister look on your face. He takes his time kissing each of your wrists before helping you into the cuffs, doing the same thing with your ankles. You take a look at your wrists, now partially covered by the leather material, it was tight but not too tight. You feel Eddie move around you before grabbing one of your wrists in his hand lightly hearing a clicking sound as he lays it back down on the bed. You go to pick up your wrist again, realizing you can’t. You look at the head of the bed to see your cuff connected to a restraint in the frame. He continues to do the same thing with your other wrist and both of your ankles.

His stare could bore holes into skin the way that it heated you up from the inside. You struggle lightly against the restraints, trying to test how much movement you had in each limb, which wasn’t much. He sits next to you on the bed, palming your face in one of his hands.

“Color baby?” he questions.

“Green!” you say brightly, excited for the adventure ahead of you.

“Doin’ so good for me” he coos, and then his touch is gone and he’s somewhere in the room. You can hear random rustling but you can’t lift up your head enough to see what he’s grabbing.

He comes back next to you seemingly empty handed, and then he lifts up his hands to you to show you his haul. He has a single black die in his one hand, and a vibrating wand in the other.

“So, we’re gonna play a little game, I’m going to roll the dice. Whatever number the dice lands on, is how many times you have to edge until I let you cum.” He says, he usually chocolate brown eyes now almost black with lust.

You lick your lips and think about how to respond, “Y-yes Daddy” you utter, your face heating up at the new pet name. You hear Eddie curse under his breath. He rolls the die next to your head on the nightstand and chuckles. His face coming close to yours with a wicked grin on his face.

“Can you handle three, angel?” he snickers, leaving kisses along your jaw line, nipping lightly. You nod hurriedly, wanting to be good for the man above you. With that he kisses you deeply one more time before spreading your legs, your dripping core on display for him to see.

You watch him spit messily on the wand and then once more on your heat, spreading it generously on your clit. You hiss at the contact, bucking your hips up slightly wanting more. You hear the hum of the vibrator as Eddie turns it on low, your body full of anticipation, waiting for any sort of pleasure. That’s when you feel it, the low vibration against your clit. You squirm against it at first, wanting more already.

Eddie chuckles lowly above you, “I should call you my little bunny by how much you move, would you like that sweetness? To be my little bunny?” he taunts, turning up the vibration higher, pulling a moan from your lips.

“Yes daddy, wanna be your bunny, your good little bunny” you writhe against the restraints. He rewards you by turning up the vibrator another notch, the pressure quickly building in your stomach.

You writhe against the restraints as the pressure becomes too much, coming it waves, so close to sending you over the edge. And then it’s gone, the vibration still audible in the room but you can no longer feel it. You groan in frustration, you were so fucking close.

“Two more baby, then you can cum” he reassures you. He takes this time, to let the fire inside you simmer. He takes off his shirt and his pants, leaving him in only his boxers. You see him palming himself, you bite your lip, wanting nothing more than to worship his cock.

You feel the vibration once again but this time instead of starting out slow, the vibration knocks the wind out of you. Your clit screaming at you for release, the coil inside you already winding tighter and tigher, your curl your toes, willing yourself not to cum. Then the sensation is gone once again, your body now covered in sweat from being so close twice now, your chest heaving heavily up and down.

“You’re doin so good bunny, just one more for me, kay? Still green?” he asks.

You nod your head not trusting your words, whimpers coming out instead. Eddie takes off his boxers, showing off his now very erect and hard cock, making your mouth water. Stroking it a few times before lining it up with your mouth.

“Spit Bunny” he commands.

You whimper and do as you’re told, gathering all the salvia in your mouth and spitting it onto his tip. He sighs and works your spit around his cock, moaning loudly. He’s teasing you, you’re strapped to the bed and can’t even touch him. He is evil incarnate, and you can’t get enough.

You were so entranced by watching Eddie work his hand over his cock you had forgot what the two of you were doing, until you felt the vibration on the highest setting hit your clit.

You yelp in surprise, keeping your eyes on his cock. Thinking about how his cock feels inside of you, how it stretches you out, hits a spot inside of you that you could never reach. You wanted it, no, you needed it, you needed him or you were going to explode. Your orgasm hurtling towards you like a freight train.

“D-Daddy i- please, i- im gonna cum” you gush, holding your eyes tightly closed, willing yourself not to cum before you’re given the okay. But instead, the vibration is gone, and your orgasm ruined.

You wail in frustration, tears welling in your eyes threatening to spill out, legs shaking. You were so desperate you didn’t even know why you were crying. You feel Eddie unclip your restraints, giving you full range of motion again, you rubbed your wrists thankfully. Eddie pulling you into a hug, kissing the tears out of your eyes.

“You did so good for me baby, you’re such a good girl for Daddy,” he mumbles into your skin. You allow him to hold you for a minute before the need between your legs takes over.

You let out the breath you were holding shakily. Looking at him in anticipation. You lie back down on the bed and open your legs, two could play at this game. You swirl your finger around your aching clit, moaning dramatically. Grabbing your left tit, pinching lightly between your two fingers, giving him a show.

Two firm hands grab both of your wrists putting them above your head, “You coulda just asked sweetness, not that I mind the show, I just had something else in mind” he mocks.

He climbs on top of you, lining his cock up at your entrance, swiping it through your soaked folds.

“Beg for it, beg for my cock,” he demands.

“Please, please I need your cock, please please, I’ve been good, please let me have your cock,” you whine.

With that he pushes into your core, both of you moaning in unison. His pace already quick chasing his own high.

“Fuck your pussy is so fuckin tight” he says, eyes closed trying to hold off his own orgasm. He lifts your legs, bending you almost in half, hitting a spot inside that makes you scream.

“Fuck yes, yeah right there, holy fuck!” you wail.

Doing what he’s told he pistons into you harder, making the wet noises in the room get louder and louder. You can feel pressure building inside you, but it feels different, it feels bigger.

“Can I cum, please can I cum?” not being able to hold it off any longer, eyes pleading with Eddie.

“Yeah, baby go ahead, cum for me, cum for daddy,” he groans.

Then your vision whites out, every cell in your body imploding with pleasure, you feel your release spill out of you and onto the sheets, messily.

“Holy shit- fuck!” is the only warning you get before Eddie’s hips stutter, and he spills his seed inside of you.

“What the fuck” is all you can muster in your fucked out state.

“Yeah what the fuck indeed princess, I didn’t know you could squirt” he says breathlessly, scooping you into his arms, the two of you laying next to each other trying to catch your breaths.

“I didn’t either, I’ve never done it before” you confide, Eddies eyes shining bright with pride. You roll your eyes at him, the last thing he needed was a bigger ego.

“Don’t let it go to your head mister,” you say with a jab to his chest.

“No, I absolutely am, thanks though” he says, putting his hand over his chest like he’s accepting a badge of honor.

The two of you spend the rest of the night down there in each other’s arms, eventually, Eddie gives you his t-shirt and goes to grab the two of you a snack and a glass of water.

“Was this okay? I didn’t hurt you or make you upset, right?” he asks.

You shake your head, “No not at all, I loved every second, can’t wait to do it again,” you say with a wiggle of your eyebrows. It makes Eddie crack a smile and leave a small kiss on your head.

“I just like feeling wanted, you know how stuff like this clears your head? It clears mine too, all I need to do is be there for you, and focus on you. Then my brain is quiet, so thank you,” he confesses, stealing a kiss from your lips. You smile up at him, if you could give him the whole world you would in an instant.

“I think I want to tell Vi, I’m nervous but I’m starting to feel guilty hiding all of this from her. I like you a lot, and she deserves to know what makes me happy,” he says looking sleepily in your eyes.

“You make me happy too, we can tell Vi this weekend, okay? I don’t like hiding things from her either,” you reassure him.

He nods back at you sleepily, snuggling in closure to you like a dog. Eventually the two of you fall asleep, completely content.

Tag List! **if you want to be added to the tag list just lemme know, just need to be 18+**

@sweetblinginrose @tlclick73 @paleidiot @frogtape @too-efn-old-to-be-here @peaches-roses-sins @micheledawn1975 @untitled74745 @hellv1ra @alastorssimp @star-of-velaris @yeaiamme2 @itdobe-liza @mmaaddyy @cozyquinn

#eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #eddie munson smut #steve harrington smut #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #steddie x reader #older!eddie munson #older eddie munson #older! steve harrington #older steve harrington

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sidekick-hero · 8 months

Text

Love from the other side

(steddie | rated: M | wc: 6.2k | tags: Vampire Eddie Munson, Nurse Steve Harrington, Mild Gore, Blood Drinking | AO3)

"Steve, we've got a major crash on the Interstate. Multiple vehicles involved. You're on triage duty. Patients will be arriving in five minutes,” Robin, the head nurse in the ER, tells him in a calm voice. She's Steve's best friend, but even he's sometimes surprised at how calm Robin can be in critical situations. He's seen her fret over the prospect of asking out a girl she likes, and her freak-out before her first date with Nancy is now something of a legend between them.

But ask her to handle a crisis and she's cool as a cucumber.

Steve sighs and nods. That means it's going to be a long night. He's already been on for ten hours, two more and he could have gone home to his cat and his warm, soft bed. But they're understaffed as it is, and with so many new patients in unknown condition coming in, he'll be here for at least another five hours. Maybe more.

He makes his way to the triage area of the ER and braces himself for what's to come.

When he finally makes it home, the sun has already risen and he's dead on his feet.

He stumbles through the front door of his apartment and is greeted by Garfield, his tabby cat, who continues to weave through his legs as he takes off his shoes, almost tripping him. He meows pitifully at Steve.

"Yeah, yeah, you poor thing. You'r treated worse here than in a shelter. Warm and cozy and dry with a human to open your tins and feed you."

Garfield meows again, this time more demanding, emphasizing the urgency with which he wants food.

Throwing up his arms, Steve relents. "Fine. Heaven forbid I get to change into something comfortable first."

As soon as he places Garfield's bowl in front of him, Steve is all but forgotten as the cat digs in. "You're welcome," he says to his beloved little freeloader, not expecting a response. He's talking to a cat, after all, but it still helps make the apartment feel less empty.

And there's no one to judge him for it. Not since Robin moved in with Nancy and he had to find a one-bedroom apartment that he could actually afford on his own.

It's not that he begrudges them their happiness, far from it. But coming home to an empty apartment and talking to his cat instead of another human being got old pretty quickly. Worse than that.

It has become lonely.

"Pull yourself together, Steve, and stop whining," he chides himself, still talking out loud.

Steve sighs. He can see himself ending up a hermit with twenty cats who never leaves the house. Deciding it's best to just go to sleep before his thoughts turn any more self-pitying, he bends down to scratch Garfield's head and tells him, "I'm going to bed."

Garfield continues to ignore him as he sips the milk Steve has placed in front of him.

Steve is off for the next two days and spends the time mostly sleeping, doing laundry, and stocking up on food after realizing he didn't even have a slice of toast for breakfast.

He also goes over to Robin and Nance's for dinner, since he's not a hopeless hermit yet. Between the three of them, they go through three bottles of wine and end up swapping stories and inside jokes until his stomach hurts from laughing so hard.

It doesn't make coming back to an empty apartment any easier.

His next shift is another night shift, and it's surprisingly quiet for a Friday night. So far, the worst he has had to deal with is a nasty cut on a drunk frat boy's forehead after the guy fell through a glass door. Steve's still surprised he didn't hurt himself worse. Head wounds bleed like crazy, though, so he looked like he had been attacked by a serial killer when his equally drunk buddies carried him to the emergency room. Seeing that only one deep cut needed stitches, while the other, shallower cuts on his arms and face would be fine on their own, had put Steve in a surprisingly good mood.

So good, in fact, that he carelessly remarked to Carol, the other nurse on duty with him, "Looks like a quiet night for once."

You could have heard a needle drop in the silence that followed his statement, and Carol looked ready to murder him. He had just violated the most important rule in any hospital.

Never, under any circumstances, say the "Q" word.

"Fuck. Oh God, I didn't mean..."

"Too fucking late, Harrington." Carol huffed before stalking off, probably to complain about him to her boyfriend, who was also the hospital director's son.

Less than twenty minutes later, all hell broke loose.

A dance floor at a local club had collapsed, resulting in several dozen serious casualties, all arriving on stretchers, crowding the triage area as Steve worked on autopilot. Assess, prioritize, assist.

In the midst of the chaos, another ambulance arrives and he goes over to talk to the paramedics about taking the patient to St. John's instead because they are at capacity, which really means they were past capacity an hour ago.

One look at the patient tells him there is no time for that,

The man on the gurney was only a few years older than Steve and had a gaping wound on his neck. He was white as a sheet and there was too little blood around a wound that looks like it hit a major artery.

"What the fuck?" He can't help but ask and the paramedic shrugs with a puzzled look on his face.

"I don't know, man. Found him like this and whoever called it in left before we got there."

Rolling their new patient in with hurried steps, Steve wonders if there was anything they could do. The wound needed surgery, and they needed to get blood and other fluids into the man as quickly as possible. Judging by the slow and shallow breathing and the sluggish pulse, his system has already started to shut down.

They lost him before they even got to the operating room. Steve doesn't even hear about it until hours later, when everyone who had been on the dance floor has finally been taken care of and a bone-deep exhaustion replaces the adrenaline-fueled energy in his body. He's not proud of it, but he's too tired to spare the news more than a brief burst of sadness.

Over the next weeks, seven more patients with gaping neck wounds come into the ER while Steve’s on shift, all drained of too much blood to make it past the first ten minutes under their care.

Whispers about a killer roaming the streets of Hawkins have started circulating as the number of victims rises steadily and Steve has started to sleep with a baseball bat under his bed. Just in case.

It’s early Tuesday night, four hours into his twelve hours shift, when another one comes in, this time a young girl around Steve’s age with long strawberry blonde hair and a pretty face. On her neck Steve can make out a gaping wound, just like the others had shown.

But this one is bleeding, profusely.

And the girl is awake, looking up at Steve with wide, terrified eyes.

“Hey, you’re safe, it’s gonna be okay, we’re going to take care of you,” he reassures her over and over as they make their way inside, ushering her to get surgery immediately. When he gives her his warmest reassuring smile she even tries her best to smile back.

Steve hopes she makes it.

She does. Against all odds, considering that the last two dozen victims with similar injuries have all died, she makes it.

Her name is Chrissy Cunningham, and when Steve reads the name on her file, he remembers her. She was a year behind him, a cheerleader. They never really talked much, but he remembers that she was kind and talked to him after everyone else on the team and the cheerleading squad had stopped doing so.

He's glad that she survived, and he promises himself that he will check in on her as soon as his shift is over.

If it hadn't been Chrissy, if it hadn't been someone he knew, he probably never would have met Eddie.

At the end of one of those weird in-between shifts at four in the morning, Steve changes into a pair of sweatpants and his favorite hoodie before heading over to the observatory area where they had to put Chrissy for now because a whole wing of the building is under construction due to some asbestos in the walls. She's already in stable condition, only needing fluids and antibiotics because they have no idea what bit her, so they're letting her sleep it off for now and hopefully find a room to put her in the next day.

The halls of the hospital are quiet at this time of night, especially outside the ER, and it's almost eerie. It feels like no one is here but Steve and the thought makes him shiver. All this serial killer talk is really getting to him, he thinks.

Reaching the area separated only by screens, he sees a figure standing by her bed. He can't make out much, but it appears to be a man, judging by his height, and he's leaning over the bed, talking softly to Chrissy. The man, if it is one, but the deep timber of his voice makes Steve think it is, is not wearing scrubs, but jeans and a hoodie, and Steve is pretty sure he's not hospital staff.

Suddenly, he remembers that something - or someone - must have inflicted the injury on Chrissy's neck.

"Hey, who are you, and what are you doing here?" he shouts as he runs over to the bed, and the figure turns to face him.

It is a man, with wide, dark eyes in a pale face framed by equally dark, messy curls.

"Shit, shit, shit," the man curses and bolts, moving faster than should be humanly possible. One moment he's staring at Steve like a deer in the headlights with his big bambi eyes, the next his shoulder slams into Steve, knocking him to the ground as the mysterious figure disappears from view.

He pushes himself upright and rises from the ground with a determined effort, because even though the guy doesn't look like it, it feels like he's been hit by a brick wall. When he regains his footing, he shakes off the impact and makes his way over to Chrissy to check on her.

She's awake, but too weak to sit up, though she tries.

"Shh, hey, don't strain yourself Chrissy, it's all right, he's gone. You're safe," he reassures her, a hand on her shoulder to keep her from moving too much and aggravating her wound.

"No," she says, her voice barely above a whisper, shaking her head slightly. Just when he wants to reiterate that yes, he's really gone, she continues. "He's safe. He saved me."

"What?" Steve asks, taken aback by her statement. He can tell that even the few words she has spoken have taken a toll on her, draining what little strength she has regained, but he can't help it, he needs to know what she means.

"He...saved me. Pulled him...off. Off me. Would have...killed..." she trails off, her eyelids fluttering shut and Steve lets her be.

Pulling up a chair, he sits down next to her to keep watch, just in case her savior decides to come back.

The next day Chrissy is more lucid. She's also in her own room and has already given a statement to the police when Steve comes in for his shift.

It doesn't matter though, he still has to ask her what happened, needs to know who the strange man was who continued to haunt Steve's dreams after he came home sometime in the early morning.

"I don't know who he is, Steve. He just showed up while Jason...while he," she is visibly shaken by having to remember the events of last night and Steve thinks he should tell her that it's okay, she doesn't have to tell him. But he doesn't. It feels like she needs to say it as much as he needs to hear it.

Steeling herself and taking a deep breath, Chrissy continues, "While Jason was biting me. Mauled me, really. I think he would have torn my throat out if this man had not shown up. He slammed into Jason, ripped him off of me, and they both went down. There was a struggle, I could hear it, but everything hurt so much I couldn't move my head. It went on for a while, I don't know how long. Time was really weird. And then the guy was looking down at me, telling me to stay still, that he was going to call an ambulance, and that I just had to hang in there. He pressed something against my neck and it hurt so much, but the pain kept me there, y'know? So I wouldn't float away and never come back. He told me to stay with him and I did. Until we heard the ambulance. Then he told me he was sorry, but he had to go. And then he was gone and the paramedics took me away."

Chrissy looks very pale after telling her story, the dark rings under her eyes more pronounced than when he first entered the room. But before he can let her rest, he has one more question.

"What was he doing here?"

To Steve's surprise, the question makes Chrissy smile. "An apology, because this is no way for a lady to be left in the lurch."

Steve has no idea what to do with this information, so he just takes Chrissy's hand and squeezes it gently.

"You'll be out of here in no time, Chrissy. We will take good care of you, I promise."

"I know. Thanks, Steve."

He turns and walks away, leaving her to get back to sleep, knowing that it will be a long time before he will be able to do the same.

What the fuck is going on?

They find Jason Carver, or what is left of him, the next day. It's all over the news. No one knows why he attacked his girlfriend or who killed him. The reports leave out a lot of the gruesome details, just saying that he was torn to pieces when they found him.

Steve, of course, can't let that be all. He has to know what happened, so after his shift he sneaks down to the morgue to take a look at what is left of Jason, a guy he only knew in passing, since Steve had already left the school when Jason became captain of the basketball team, taking Steve's old position.

What he finds is a body that is badly mangled, just like the news said. There are deep wounds, chunks of flesh missing, his right arm torn from his shoulder. Though it's hard to swallow, it's not the first time Steve has seen a body destroyed almost beyond recognition. What makes him recoil from the dead man in front of him is the fact that Jason Carver's body is already decomposing as if he'd been dead for several days, maybe weeks, instead of not even 48 hours.

Steve leaves the morgue even more confused - and frightened - and heads home with the image of Jason's tattered, rotting body burned into his eyelids.

Over the next three weeks Steve sees four more victims with the same torn throats and bloodless bodies. None of them can be saved like they saved Chrissy.

He doesn’t see the mysterious man again.

It's late June when Steve's life changes forever.

The sun has only set an hour ago and the air is still warm as he walks home from his shift. Robin and Nance's car broke down the day before, and they live on the outskirts of town, so Steve gave them his car until theirs is fixed in a few days. The weather is nice and he doesn't mind walking the three miles to his apartment.

He's almost home, maybe ten minutes away, when he hears someone whistle.

There's a man standing at the entrance to an alley a few feet ahead of him, and since he's the only one around, Steve assumes it must be him whistling at Steve. The guy is hot, there is no way around it, about Steve's height with an athletic build and a haircut that reminds him of the 80's, his blond hair styled into a mullet.

"What's a pretty guy like you doing out here all alone?" The man asks as he gives Steve a slow look. It's supposed to be seductive, Steve thinks, but it just comes off as sleazy. Which is a shame, because the guy has a pretty face, long lashes, full lips, delicate features. Steve's also going through a bit of a dry spell lately, but he's not desperate enough to hook up with a slimy sleazeball like that.

"None of your business, really," he replies, walking a little faster than before. Something doesn't feel right, he thinks, feeling the hairs stand up on the back of his neck.

"Aww, don't be like that, sweet thing. I just wanna talk, I swear." Steve is almost past the guy when their eyes meet and he feels himself freeze. "Why don't you come closer so I can smell you better?"

Even as he thinks, "What the hell is wrong with this guy?" he feels his body turn toward him and his feet propel him forward. He feels himself panic, but it's a distant thing, like an itch under his skin that he can't reach no matter how hard he scratches.

When he's in front of the stranger, so close that their chests almost touch, the man leans in and sniffs Steve's neck like a dog at a slab of meat. He hums deep in his chest and Steve feels the wet touch of his tongue against his skin. It's enough of a shock that he can get his body to react, to fight back, but it's no use. The moment he moves, the man growls menacingly at him.

With his feet still rooted to the ground, Steve feels like he's underwater, his senses dulled and his limbs heavy, weighed down by the tons of water around him. He fights it with all his strength and it takes all he's got to put his hands on the man's chest and push him away.

It's not even close to a hard push, but the man clearly didn't expect Steve to fight back at all, so he stumbles back a bit anyway. Unfortunately for Steve, it only makes him angrier.

"Looks like you got some fight in you after all. Too bad I don't like my food to fight back," he snarls, and before Steve knows what's happening he feels his back slam into the wall behind him, darkness surrounding them on all sides.

He struggles against the hands holding him down, but it's no use, their grip steely and unyielding.

The once pretty face has turned into something twisted and ugly, a grotesque imitation of a human face, and when the thing in front of him opens its mouth, all Steve sees are teeth. Long, sharp teeth.

Steve screams, but not a sound comes out of its mouth.

As those teeth sink into his neck, the face of the man who saved Chrissy's life pops unbidden into his mind. Steve has seen it in his dreams more than once, and it's strangely comforting to think of it now, in what Steve is sure will be his last minutes alive. As if this is all a fucked up dream and Chrissy's mysterious savior will come for him, too.

White hot pain races through his body from where the thing that looked like a man sunk its teeth into him and it's only that pain that makes him believe what he sees next.

One moment he's in mind-numbing agony, almost wishing for death to come and end his suffering, and the next the oppressive weight of that thing is gone, its teeth no longer in Steve. With nothing holding him up, he crumples to the ground, his head dazed and his body shaking like a leaf.

To his right he hears the sounds of a viscous battle. Growls and snarls, flesh hitting flesh, flesh hitting brick, the sound of bones snapping. He's too weak to even turn his head, and part of him is glad for that.

The fight seems to go on forever and Steve feels himself slipping in and out of consciousness. His heart has stopped pounding and his pulse has slowed to about 60 beats per minute, which is good. Not too slow, his system is still going strong. It was cardiac arrest after immense blood loss that had killed the other victims, but so far that doesn't seem to be Steve's fate.

At least not if the wound on his neck that is still slowly bleeding is taken care of soon.

He doesn't dare press his undoubtedly dirty palm against it yet. Hell, he's not even sure if he can lift his hand that far. But something has to be done about the bleeding, sooner rather than later.

As if his savior had heard his thoughts, there is a final, stomach-churning sound of flesh and bone ripping, followed by silence, the fight finally over.

And then there he is, as if his mind had conjured him, the man who saved Chrissy. The man with the big brown doe eyes and the pale skin and the messy curls. There's blood on his face now, and... other things Steve doesn't want to think about.

Steve is safe now, he feels it deep in his soul. He doesn't know how he can know that, how he can trust a complete stranger to keep him safe, but he does. His eyelids flutter shut, the tension finally draining from him completely.

A cool hand on his cheek and a warm, deep voice, tinged with what sounds like fear, pull him back.

"Hey, no, no, no. Steve, you need to stay here with me, okay? Stay with me, sweetheart."

"You know my name," Steve mumbles, fighting the heavy rocks that weigh down his eyelids as he looks at the pretty face in front of him. His eyes dip lower and there's more blood on the man, his clothes torn and his skin exposed. "You're hurt."

"You're very observant, Stevie. Come on, we gotta get you to the hospital. You'll be as good as new in no time." He smiles at Steve and Steve is helpless not to smile back. There's the tease of a dimple forming in his cheek and Steve lifts his hand with Herculean effort to touch it. When the man notices the gesture, the dimple forms fully, deep and alluring. A cold hand catches his before it reaches its target and Steve whines in protest.

The man chuckles fondly. "Here, lemme help you," he says, bringing Steve's hand to his face, the dimple still waiting for Steve to touch it. The skin is soft under his hands and cold too, like it's a winter night and not the end of June.

"I'm gonna pick you up now, Stevie. It's faster than waiting for an ambulance. Just close your eyes and we'll be there before you know it."

Steve feels himself lifted from the ground into strong arms and instinctively turns his head into the man's chest, enjoying the vibration of his soft laughter at the gesture against his cheek.

Then they're moving, and fast. One second he wonders how someone covered in blood and other unspeakable things can smell so good, and the next the lights of the hospital burn bright and painful in his blurry eyes.

"He needs help, now," he hears the man say to someone, his voice firm and demanding. It makes Steve shiver in his arms. And then he's placed on a gurney and his savior leaves with the whisper of cold lips on Steve's forehead.

It's only much later, when he's recovered enough to form coherent thoughts, that Steve realizes two things.

He doesn't even know the name of the man who saved him.

He never heard a heartbeat as his head was pressed against the man's chest.

Steve is released two days later and Robin insists that he stay with her and Nancy for a while. There's really no arguing with his best friend when she's got something on her mind, so he doesn't even try. He's too tired anyway.

His sleep is shit, plagued by nightmares of sharp teeth and blood and bodies being torn to pieces.

He also dreams of the mysterious man, and while these dreams aren't nightmares, they're still confusing, even unsettling, because they leave him feeling hollow. Like he has lost something. Which is ridiculous, the man was never his, he doesn't even know his name.

As he spends the next week at Robin and Nancy's, being pampered and doted on, he has no idea how close he is to learning the name of his savior. That and much more.

After finally convincing his best friend that he can manage on his own, that he needs to go home, that Garfield misses him even with Robin or Nancy stopping by to feed him, it is both daunting and a relief to see Robin's car drive away from where he stands in front of his apartment building.

The nightmares haven't stopped, and he admits that the prospect of being alone in his apartment scares him, but he can't live on his best friend's couch forever. Besides, even there, the nightmares would wake him up shaking and panting, waking Robin and Nancy more than once in the middle of the night. Alone in his apartment, he won't wake anyone with his whimpering and screaming.

Garfield is already waiting for him when he comes through the door, weaving through his legs and meowing at him. Surprised at how much he missed the tabby menace, Steve leans down and takes him in his arms, burying his face in the soft fur.

"Hey baby, sorry for leaving you alone for so long. But Aunt Robbie told me that she and Nancy took good care of you, playing with you and petting you. Probably spoiled you rotten, huh?"

Garfield meows again and pushes his head under Steve's chin, rubbing against him and purring like crazy. Steve smiles into his fur, thinking that he's glad to be home, even if it's still empty except for the purring cat in his arms.

He puts Garfield back down and makes him something to eat before heading to his bathroom to take a long, hot shower and change into something more comfortable. When he pushes open the door and steps inside, he is too stunned by the sight that greets him for any real reaction other than a sharp intake of breath.

On the floor is the man who has taken over most of Steve's dreams and many of his waking thoughts as well.

The man lies still and Steve can see dark stains on his clothes and he just knows it's blood. It could be someone else's, but somehow Steve is sure it's the man's own. Within seconds, he's on his knees next to the unconscious (please just be unconscious) figure, his knees smarting from the way he just fell onto them on the hard and cold tiles.

The man is on his stomach, his face turned to the side, away from Steve, so he moves to turn the man over. He's surprisingly heavy, a dead weight under his hands (no, no, no, not dead, just unconscious, his mind chants), but Steve is nothing if not persistent, and he finally manages to turn the man onto his back.

"Oh God," Steve groans as he can finally assess the damage. There are wounds all over his body, deep gashes on his thighs, his torso, his arms, even his face. "What happened to you?"

"Ten against one. Not...fair," the man replies, his voice barely audible and his eyes still closed. Steve has to lean in to make out the words, but him talking also means the man is still alive, though Steve isn't sure how much longer.

Taking the man's wrist, Steve looks for a pulse to see how far his system has already shut down, but... there is no pulse to be found.

He remembers not hearing a heartbeat when his cheek was pressed against the man's chest, so he presses his ear to where the man's heart is, waiting for the sound of its faint beat.

Nothing.

Steve leans back and searches the man's eyes, half-open now and clearly alive.

"How... you can't be alive. You don't have a pulse, your heart isn't beating." He is stammering, but it's a lot to take in. It shouldn't be possible. It's not like he wants the guy to be dead, but for all intents and purposes, he should be.

Bloodied lips pull back into a faint smile. "Sweetheart, not even the most beautiful sight like you could make my heart beat again. Although it really tries for you."

Despite everything, the way this guy flirts with him while he lies in his own blood brings a crooked smile to Steve's face.

"There, that smile? If it could, my heart would be beating out of my chest right now." Steve can tell the man is trying for levity, but he's fading and fast.

"As charming as you are, you're also bleeding all over my bathroom floor. With no pulse or heartbeat. And I don't even know your friggin' name! So forgive me for asking, but what the fuck?"

"Sorry for the blood on your floor, I tried to patch myself up, but I must have passed out. Embarrassing, really. Didn't think you'd be back so soon. I'd get out of your hair, but... well, you know. I don't think I can move." The words start to slur halfway through, and those beautiful brown eyes keep disappearing behind heavy eyelids. Steve has to do something, quickly, before his savior dies.

"Eddie," the man croaks, his voice barely audible. Steve wouldn't have heard it if it weren't for the intent way he stares at him.

"What?"

"My name. Eddie."

"Eddie. Okay." Steve nods his head, the hand still wrapped around Eddie's wrist grabbing his hand instead, squeezing it gently. "Eddie, we need to get you to the hospital now."

It looks like Eddie tries to shake his head, but gives up halfway, exhausted. "No. They can't help me."

"But they can! Someone needs to sew up your wounds, and you've lost too much blood, you need a blood transfusion and fluids and - why are you laughing?"

"You're right, I need blood, but not the way you think."

The image of sharp teeth flickers behind his eyelids, a gnarled face snarling at him. The feeling of those teeth buried in his neck, white-hot pain shooting through his veins.

"What... Eddie, I don't..."

Eddie's face turns toward him, his nostrils flaring as he takes a deep breath, as if smelling the air.

"Come closer so I can smell you better."

Two different voices growling and snarling, not just one.

Strong arms lifting him off the ground as if he weighed nothing, carrying him nearly three miles. "It's faster than waiting for an ambulance."

"You're not human." Steve whispers. It's not a question.

Eddie answers it anyway. "No, I'm not."

"You're... You're a..." He can't say it, can't even think it.

"A vampire, yes." Eddie says it for him and everything falls into place. The neck wounds, the drained victims, the sharp teeth and the inhuman strength and speed.

"You want my blood." Steve has no idea why he's stating the obvious instead of running as fast as he can, but something tells him he's still safe with Eddie.

"So observant." Eddie chuckles, but it sounds wet and weak. "Yeah. But I won't take it, don't worry, Stevie."

In his mind Steve goes over the things he knows.

Eddie is a vampire. A vampire who killed another vampire to save Steve’s life. To save Chrissy’s life.

Eddie is dying. He may already be dead, but it looks like vampires can die again. Permanently.

Eddie wants his blood.

"Would it help you? My blood, I mean." That's the only thing he's not sure about. The most important thing, at least.

It looks like an inhuman - invampire, Steve thinks - effort, but Eddie manages to shake his head firmly.

"Steve, no."

"Would. It. Help?" Steve insists.

Eddie, the stubborn asshole, presses his lips together and refuses to look at him. That's answer enough for him.

Still holding Eddie's hand in his, he lifts his other hand to Eddie's mouth and presses the inside of his wrist against the closed mouth.

"Come on, Eddie. Drink." Another shake of the man's head only strengthens Steve's resolve. "Eddie, please. You saved my life. Let me do the same."

The stubborn ass continues to refuse, so Steve does the only logical thing. He stands, grabs his razor, and slides the blade across his wrist, just deep enough to draw blood from the otherwise shallow wound.

He presses the wrist back against Eddie's lips and this time he feels the man tremble.

"Please drink. I want you to. Let me help you." Moving his wrist and smearing his blood over Eddie's full lips, Steve pleads again, his voice breaking. "Please, Eddie."

It's the last please that does it, and the next thing Steve feels is the white-hot pain of teeth sinking into his wrist. Still smiling through the pain, he squeezes Eddie's hand. "That's it, you're doing so good. Take what you need."

And Eddie does. He drinks and drinks and drinks until the world goes fuzzy and black spots start dancing in front of Steve's eyes.

"Eddie," Steve slurs before everything goes dark.

When Steve comes to, he's in his bed.

His wrist is wrapped tightly in a pristine-looking white bandage, and he's wearing his pajamas. He has no idea how he got here or what happened, everything is kind of blurry. Steve tries to sit up, but almost immediately the world starts spinning and he groans in protest.

That's when the door to his bedroom opens and his mysterious savior walks into the room with a bowl in his hand.

Eddie, his mind supplies. His name is Eddie and he was dying the last time Steve saw him.

"Are you okay?" Steve asks him, his voice full of worry and he gets a sad smile in return.

"Stevie, I'm the one who should be asking you that." Eddie sits down next to him on the bed but doesn't touch him. He looks tense and Steve wonders why. Though most of what happened is a blur, he remembers holding Eddie's hand and Eddie calling him beautiful.

"I'm fine. A little dizzy, but fine. You were the one bleeding all over my bathroom floor. What happened, how are you even standing, how long was I out?"

Eddie reaches out and takes Steve's cheek in his hand. "You saved my life, Stevie. That's what happened. And you almost got yourself killed, you self-sacrificing idiot. So even though it saved my life, I have to ask you, beg you if I have to, to never do anything so stupid again."

Steve puts his own hand on top of Eddie's hand on his face and looks him in the eye as he tells him, "You saved my life first and risked your own as well. So I guess the pot is calling the kettle black here."

He's rewarded with a dimpled smile. "Fair point. Now that we're even, can you promise me you'll never do anything like this again?"

"I dunno. Can you promise not to try to save me again if I'm in danger?" He knows it's a low blow, but if it helps him get his point across, he's not above playing dirty. Besides, part of him really wants to know. The needy part, the scared part.

"You know the answer to that," Eddie says, brushing his thumb across Steve's cheekbone.

"Isn't that a little unfair?"

"Yeah," Eddie whispers, and Steve realizes he's so much closer than before. "But I don't care if it keeps you safe."

Steve feels his heart thunder in his chest, his eyes darting from Eddie's to the other man's lips and back again. Licking his own lips, Steve asks, "And why is that?"

Eddie's lips are only a breath away from his own, and he tastes his answer as much as he hears it.

"You know that answer as well."

Before Steve can say anything else, Eddie's cool, smooth lips seal over his and every thought in his mind is forgotten. There's only Eddie.

Later he'll ask about the other vampires. About all the dead people in the emergency room. He'll ask who Eddie is, why he's running around town saving people, and who hurt him so badly.

But all that can wait, at least until Steve is done drinking down the delicious sounds falling from Eddie's mouth.

This is a little birthday gift for my dear friend @yournowheregirl. Alice, I know you love vampires so I tried my best to give you some. Time ran out on me but I still hope you like it 💜

I hope you had the best birthday ever because you deserve nothing but happiness.

Edit: I forgot while posting to say that this is heavily inspired by a wonderful podcast I highly recommend, Not quite dead. Give it a listen folks!

#steddie #steddie fanfiction #vampire eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #Nurse Steve Harrington #my writing

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itsmarsss · 3 months

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early bird

request: hii i love scandalous and was if would you ever write a poly ozzie/fizz/reader fic?? no pressure or anything, i really love how you write and after the angst (and the more to come from future chapters) something cute and soft would be needed lol (also fizz in suspenders💞💞 😔)

You jolt awake at the sound of a horn. That fucking horn. No matter how many times you throw it away, Fizz, somehow, finds some way to have another one the next morning. You don’t think it’s too far-off to suspect he hides a secret stash of them somewhere in the house.

You groan, shoving a pillow over your head to conceal the noise, but it’s to no avail as Fizz pulls it from you.

Ozzie stirs, and he gently pulls your head off his chest so he can sit up just to glare at Fizz. “Could you not?”

“I think you know the answer to that.”

“Why’d you wake us up so early?” You question. “None of us has to be up until 9 today.”

“And how do you know it’s not 9?”

“The sun is literally still rising,” you tell him, pointing at the big window across the room.

“Well I woke up and I had to go to the bathroom and then I couldn’t sleep again and I tried! But I couldn’t. And I don’t wanna be the only one awake…” he pouts, and he’s obviously trying to get pity points with that so as to not get further complaints about the horn thing.

It gets Ozzie immediately. “Oh don’t make that face you know I can’t resist it.”

“Uh-huh, that’s why I make it,” he crosses his arms over his chest and smiles, tongue poking out a corner of his mouth.

You roll your eyes and suppress a smile of your own. Can’t argue with that flawless logic. “What do you even wanna do so early?”

Fizz moves his body towards you by extending his legs, getting his face impossibly close to yours as he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. You get the hint, and laugh before planting a kiss on his forehead. “You’re cute. But no way. Still too tired.”

He exaggerates an eye roll. “So lame!”

“And yet! You still love me.”

“Barely.”

“HA!” Ozzie laughs at him sarcastically.

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re a simp, Froggie.”

“Am not!”

“S-I-M-P. Simp.”

“So are you!”

“Never said I wasn’t,” Ozzie defends himself, putting his hands up in surrender.

“Okay, okay, everyone’s a simp. Now can we go get some breakfast or what?”

“Thought you said you were too tired.”

“I’m never too tired for breakfast, Froggie,” you pinch his cheek.

“Hey!” Ozzie complains, pretending to take offense to you making fun of his nickname for Fizz, despite it being a routinely occurrence since forever, and pulling him in a tight embrace.

Fizz squeezes himself out of Ozzie’s embrace, laughing, and you all get up off the bed. “Soooo what are we having?” He asks as the three of you exit the bedroom, and you both look up at Ozzie, expectantly.

“Why am I the one who has to make it?”

“I mean, I can make it if you want,” Fizz says, and the three of you laugh at the absurdity of the suggestion.

“Yeah, no.” Ozzie affirms, serious, before looking at you with a raised brow. “How ‘bout you?”

“I’m just soo, soo tired, baby, look,” you pretend to yawn, and Fizz tries (and fails) not to laugh at it.

“You help me or no deal.”

“No fair! And Fizzy just watches?”

“Thought you liked it when I… watched… you two.”

“Your charm can’t get you out of everything, you know that?”

“It’s been working so far.”

“You’re too smug sometimes, Froggie,” Ozzie comments as he crosses the kitchen to get something, not turning around to say it.

“I already said I can cook if you really want me to!”

“Not after last time!”

“See?” Fizz tells you. “He won’t let me!”

“Oh and you’re obviously sooo bummed about it.”

He smiles, and Ozzie nudges you with a pink spatula. “Here.”

You realize he’s put on his frilly, tiny baby blue apron, and smile at the sight. “You’re so cute.”

“I’m thousands of years old and, like, three times bigger than you.”

“And so what do we say?”

Ozzie lets out a giggle. “Thank you, babe,” he pulls you towards him by your waist, placing a quick kiss on your cheek.

“Okay, so what are we making? What do I do with this?” You wave the spatula he handed you around.

“What do you wanna eat?”

“Waffles!” Fizz yells out.

“Ohhh, yes!” You agree.

“I could eat some waffles,” Ozzie decides.

“Hell yeah!” Both you and Fizz exclaim at the same time, high-fiving each other.

You didn’t care about being woken up so early anymore.

#i know you probably wanted something longer lol but ill probably get to writing that when scandalous is done #for now i wanted to share this little blurb that came to my mind! hope u like it babes <3 #also thank u!!!! u asked so nicely i started writing for them just for u #mars writes #helluva boss #asmodeus x reader #ozzie x reader #fizz x reader #fizzarolli x reader #fizzmodeus x reader #hope this is enough to help u cope w the last chapter lol u sent this in after the last angsty chapter before it #what is this is this me WRITING?#blurb

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mrskreideprinz · 6 months

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| I Wanna Make My Murder Look Like A Suicide |

Pairing: Diluc x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Dark content, Yandere, Yan!Diluc, Fem!Reader, Reader wears a dress, Diluc is your husband, Abuse, Manipulation, Reader is disabled, Reader uses a cane, Reader is referred to as Diluc’s ‘Wife’, Mentions of past forced feeding, Arranged Marriage, It is implied that reader’s family was abusive, Scratching (Reader), Diluc is very cruel in this, Kaeya appears towards the end, Dissociation, Reader has a mental breakdown, Stockholm Syndrome (? I’m unsure about this one ?), 4.6k Words.

A/n: Reupload because I deleted this foasijfasodi but yeah idk I really just think yandere!Diluc is neat. Also, the title are lyrics from the song Cotard’s Solution by Will Wood and The Tapeworms.

Summary: When your family arranges a marriage with the wealthy owner of Dawn Winery, you jump at the first chance you can to escape your cruel family, but what new hell awaits you on the other side?

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asked in a cold tone.

It threw you off for a moment but only briefly, because if there’s one thing you could promise yourself it’s that your husband, Diluc, would never harm you. But somehow you couldn’t help but clutch onto the fabric of your dress, the same one he gave you on your first wedding anniversary, hands shaking for some unknown reason.

“I was just going for a walk. Would you like to j-” He cut you off mid sentence, snapping at you in response.

“No, I don’t want to go anywhere and neither should you. It’s”— He checked his pocket watch before quickly tucking it back into his pocket— “Three in the morning and both of us should be heading to bed.”

“But-” Before you could get another word in he’d grabbed your wrist and pulled you forward.

That was your cue that it was indeed time to end the night, in bed… with your husband. Your beloved husband who would never steer you astray. So, then why did you have this feeling in the pit of your stomach that something was terribly and unmistakably wrong?

Soon the sun rose and pierced through the window of your bedroom, waking you up with its warm rays and urging you to get ready for the day. You didn’t have anywhere to go or anything to do exactly—to be fair you never did—but that never stopped you from looking your very best. So, you quickly put on a decent looking outfit, brushed your hair, and grabbed your cane. And just as you were about to descend down the stairs you saw the flower embroidered basket out of the corner of your eye. It always tempted you, or maybe taunted is the more appropriate word, and you decided against fighting your desires and instead hooked it over your free arm.

You checked both ways before tip-toeing downstairs, hoping your walk was closer than it was last night. Closer and closer you came to the front door, you knew it was silly but you really wanted to take a walk and you couldn’t understand your husband’s rejections towards it. Your hand was on the bronze knob and you were just about to turn it when a hand placed itself on your shoulder. You jumped and looked to see who it was and to your surprise and relief, it was Adelinde. It made getting caught a little less scary and a lot more tedious, because you knew there was nothing you could do to keep her watchful eyes off of you.

She smiled fondly, too fondly, and finally spoke. “You’re supposed to be resting. Come on, let’s get you some breakfast. Master Diluc is expecting you.” She led you into the dining area.

Pulling back an open seat, Adelinde helped you into your seat, pushing your chair closer to the table while the both of you waited for Diluc to arrive. And once he did she did the same for him and walked outside as he dismissed her. Not once did she look back and it made you nervous for reasons you weren’t sure of. The both of you waited in thick silence for the food to arrive, and once it had he took a few bites before he ordered everyone in the house to give you two some privacy.

It was that moment, that moment right then and there that made you question just what exactly your husband would say or do. Maybe an answer to last night’s little event, or something truly dreadful instead. It was the very minute you happened to look at him that he set down his utensils and spoke at last.

“Are you unhappy?” he said casually, as if he hadn’t just questioned the very existence of you in his life.

You were stunned, but not too much that you couldn’t speak.

“Of course I am! What kind of question is that?” you replied defensively.

Your heart began to pound harshly against your chest, and you could feel the sudden drop of your stomach. Clenching the fork in your right hand you tried grounding yourself, controlling your emotions, but the feeling was so strong you started to cry.

Diluc reached over and gingerly wiped away the stray tear on your cheek. “Please, don’t cry.” You were silent aside from the hurtful whimpers you let out. “I’m not mad.”

Diluc slowly made his way out of his chair and knelt beside yours in an effort to comfort you, but that did quite the opposite. He gently held onto your left hand and looked at you with softened eyes, except for the fact that they were grey and empty. You tried to stop crying but your tears became uncontrollable, and soon you were sobbing into the crook of your right arm’s elbow. It felt like your world was caving, as if your heart stopped and the air was stripped straight from your lungs. The worst part was how you had no clue what was the real problem, that was until you said that loathsome phrase you always did end up blurting out.

“Are.. Are you leaving me?” you asked timidly.

The fear in your voice was evident but you couldn’t find the strength or courage to pretend otherwise. Sometimes when you blurted it out you hoped he wouldn’t answer, just so that there was no choice for rejection. It was better that way you told yourself, even though he had never rejected you. To be frank, if he hadn’t put that worry in your head in the first place, then you wouldn't have reacted this way. But if there’s one thing you learned from this marriage it was that Diluc would show you only what he wanted you to see. So, to the world he was an honest man, a doting husband, and above all, kind, but that was not the reality you lived.

Diluc took both of your hands now and gave them a tight grip, looking you deep in your eyes. “I will never leave you. Okay, sweetheart?”

His words felt less like a promise and more like a threat. You used to have so much more fight in you, but these days you barely had any left. So, you nodded and allowed him to give you a hug before the both of you finished up your breakfast. The remainder of the day was spent watching out the windows of your regal prison, dreaming of the day you could finally feel the sun on your face again. This was the pattern of your every day, from the moment the sun went up and till the very time it fell below the ground; wishing and praying that someday your fate would change. Perhaps that day was closer than you presumed, but you were doubtful.

The pattern continued for weeks, you had constant flare ups and Diluc would consistently refuse to let you leave the house. Until, one day ,the pain had lessened enough to the point where you didn’t need your cane or wheelchair, and instead could truly stretch your legs for once. It was by no means a permanent thing but you wanted to celebrate this small relief, and with what you might ask? A nice walk through the outside breeze of course. Today was the day you were so sure that Diluc would let you outside, or at the very least walk with you.

So, you found a comfortable outfit to wear, looked at your aid with a triumphant smile, and carefully descended down the stairs. You were proud to be able to have a day free of your mobility aid, it was liberating, but you knew once you saw Diluc at the bottom of the steps that something was wrong. Something was very wrong, indeed. Slowly you walked down the staircase and once you were face to face with your husband, you could see his face was that of a truly frustrated and fed up man.

He knows, you thought to yourself.

“You’re late,” he said in a cold tone as he pulled out a chair at the table for you, and helped you into your seat.

You kept your sights on your food as much as you could, because you knew damn well that Diluc could sniff out your true feelings with ease. Making sure to hold eye contact with Diluc as much as you could stomach, you took deep breaths as you readied yourself to ask the question you’d been dying to ask. This all depended on how healthy you appeared, if he caught even a whiff of pain or weakness it was all over for you.

“Sorry,” you said weakly.

Already your heart was banging hard in your ear drums, causing chaos before the eruption had occurred. You both waited patiently, and you, silently, for the remainder of the food to be served to you. Once you had been served the usual meal you were given, you stared at it for a good moment while Master Diluc began digging in almost immediately. Maybe he was in a better mood today, you thought to yourself. Maybe, or maybe not. He soon noticed you hadn’t touched your food and ushered for you to eat.

“Eat,” he demanded, a hint of urgency lingering in his voice, but the overall tone was still harsh.

It was when your teary eyes were long focused on the meal with no urgency to touch it that he raised his brow in suspicion and watched you with an angered expression. It was one thing to try to run away from his hot and cold exterior, but it was another to avoid his good deeds entirely. He set down his utensils with a loud clank and looked straight forward at you, trying his best to contain his rage.

“I said, eat.” He demanded through grit teeth.

This was the side of him that many– no, everyone missed completely. Those close to him didn’t see how cruel and unforgiving he was behind closed doors. They didn’t know that if all your food was not eaten how Diluc would sit there to make sure you ate even just a little more than you could stomach, against your begging wishes, of course. No one, and I mean no one except those that resided in the home, knew about his harsh tendencies. And that meant that not a single soul knew just how horribly he treated his sweet angel of a wife, but maybe it was better that way. After all, if someone like you was stupid enough to stay then maybe you really did deserve all the torture he’d constantly put you through. And you’d think that after his hardened voice demanding you to eat that your fear would kick in and force you to shovel down your food, but you’d be wrong.

“Is there something wrong with the food, my dear?” He asked through grit teeth, again.

You shook your head and tears fell into your food.

Diluc stood up from his seat and stared you down. “Then what is wrong?”

You said nothing. Instead, you continued to cry into your food as Diluc stared down at you like a troublesome child. You just couldn’t stop, no matter how hard Diluc told you to calm down, relax, or ease yourself, it was all to no avail. It only furthered your pathetic tears. Diluc wanted to know the truth, just for you to tell him why you refused to eat, but if you told him the truth he’d only become more angry and you weren't sure you could handle that at the moment. You weren’t sure you could handle this life a moment longer, but unfortunately you didn’t and never had a choice. It was tragic really, but that was life for you.

It wasn’t that you hadn’t tried to leave him before, trust me, you tried, but it was all to no avail. You could hardly make it downstairs without some help, so what made you think you could escape all on your own unscathed. When your family arranged the marriage you blindly accepted, thinking escaping your heartless family must be a better life than if you were to stay, but boy were you wrong. Diluc was sweet at first, kind and gentle just as he is in the public eye, but it wasn’t till the honeymoon that you realized something was terribly wrong. And by time you realized your mistake it was far too late.

“I-” You started to speak, but were quickly cut off by your choking tears.

You tried your best to speak up, say something, anything, but each time you were silenced by gut wrenching cries. The one time you attempted to look up to address the situation you were met with cold, unfeeling eyes and averted your gaze with hiccuping sobs.

“Ugh, will you just spit it out already?” Diluc groaned in frustration.

That only furthered your sobs and worsened it. Your hands tangled into your hair and began to scratch at your scalp for relief, but you only ended up with a sore scalp and traces of blood underneath your fingernails. Your tears grew bigger, your cries louder, and all sense of rationale left your body. The atmosphere was foggy and unclear, like looking into a cloudy looking glass for reasoning and coming up with absolutely nothing in return. You swore you heard a voice through the thickness of it all, but even as you were dragged from your seat in the dining room and led back into the privacy of your own room, you held no grasp on reality. It must’ve been hours, maybe days, or so it felt like, before you started to come to. A strong grip held you close to something, something warm, and rocked you comfortingly as small shushes could be heard near your ears.

It was only moments later that you began to recognize the world around you, and the familiar figure holding you close. Too close. It was none other than Master Diluc. Why he was holding you in such a tender and intimate position, you weren’t sure you knew, but you one thing was for sure, it felt extremely uncomfortable. You writhed in his holding, trying your damnedest to squirm out of his hold, but he was much stronger than you. A pins and needles sensation spread from your hips to the tip of your toes, and you could barely move from your position. Your hands were free aside from the vice grip Diluc had on your arms, almost crushing them as he held you closely. You felt the need to cry all over again, but suppressed it as hard as you could. Thankfully, your attempts worked and this time you remained strong.

You tried to remain quiet and confident, but your confidence was shattered the moment you heard his sweet yet poisonous voice ring through your ears. “You’re awake.”

Unfortunately

“Y-Yes. What happened?” You asked, trying to put the pieces together.

Diluc shifted into an upright position and prepared to tell you some of the truth. He couldn’t have you trying to run off, again. Unfortunately, what Master DIluc didn’t know was that your determination far outweighed any punishment he could potentially give to you. After he explained it to you in his own version, you nodded in agreement and expressed your exhaustion. You wanted to go to bed and forget all about this day., even though it felt like it had just begun. Sure, Diluc had his suspicions as to why you so suddenly wanted to sleep after such a conversation, but he brushed it off as his own paranoia. After all, he’d curated a life that he made damn sure you could never run away from. At least, not without some help.

That night was spent with eyes vigilantly open, wide and observant as you rested your head on the pillow, keeping out for when Diluc would come to bed. If he caught you in bed awake right now he was sure to have a few words, but you’d simply lie and say the pain kept you awake, which wouldn’t exactly be far from the truth, but it wasn’t the truth. You watched out the only window you had in your room, gazing at the open sky full of stars and the full moon and wondered what was taking Diluc so long. What was taking him so long? He should’ve long been in bed by now. So, why was he still hard at work in his study? Regardless of the reasoning you calmed yourself down, trying your best to satiate your impatience, because if you weren’t careful it could very well be the thing that led to your downfall.

It must’ve been about an hour or so later when you heard the heavy footsteps of your husband head up the stairs and then quietly trail into your shared room. You could vividly hear him discard his clothes and climb into what you guessed were more comfortable ones. He kissed you softly on the forehead, foolishly believing you were asleep, and climbed into bed with you. Feeling his hot breath against your neck sent shivers down your spine, you couldn’t remember the last time you slept without him breathing down your neck, literally. It was awful. Although you were thankful that tonight his vice grip wasn’t holding you in place —making it perfect for your little escape plan— there was still a heavy feeling of discomfort floating throughout the bedroom.

You were patient, and all that patience of yours finally paid off when you heard the light to heavy snores of Diluc behind you. It was time, time to make your escape. It would be tricky getting out of the bed with him in it, but thankfully Diluc was a heavy sleeper. Slowly and very very carefully you removed the blankets from your body and started to slide down to the edge of the bed. Closer.. Closer.. Closer.. Until finally, your legs hung off the edge of the bed. Diluc shifted in his sleep and let out a loud snore which caused you to jump in your own skin, but looking back you saw he was still fast asleep. Letting out a silent sigh of relief you steadied yourself with both hands as you placed both of your wobbly feet to the ground. Now, the next part would prove one of the most difficult tasks, getting your cane. It currently sat in a cage with other canes and umbrellas you owned (not that you ever actually left the house) and could potentially make a lot of noise if you weren’t careful.

Cautiously you tiptoed to the cage and took a slow, deep breath before reaching inside and slowly pulled it out. It was a wooden cane so if hit at just the right amount of speed it could make quite enough noise, not as much as it would if it were metal, but it would be just enough to awaken the young master. With extreme caution you began to pull it out, further and further, until it was almost fully out, but in an unfortunate turn of events your hand began to grow weak and numb and you dropped it. Thankfully, you were able to grab it with your other hand before it could wake up Diluc, but not before it banged against the cage in a painfully loud manner. You froze in place, not moving a single muscle until you heard the light snores of Diluc once again. Carefully pulling out the entire cane you then positioned it as you usually would for the day and used it to help you hold your weight upright, as you gradually turned the doorknob and opened the bedroom door.

Peeking out the door you could so no one and nothing except for the moonlight illuminating the hallway. Now was as good a chance as any to make a run for it, and so you quickly tiptoed down the stairs with the help of your cane to steady you, eagerly walking towards the door the moment your feet touched the first floor. Your hand hovered above the knob as you stopped in shock. Was this it? Were you finally going to leave this miserable and pitiful life to live one full of joy and freedom? It is what you deserved after all, you thought. It’s what you had always wanted and needed. Without wasting a moment sooner you turned the knob and braced yourself for whatever waited for you outside those doors, and stepped outside for the first time in a long time.

It must’ve been summertime because the heat was thick and the air was muggy. If you had been out on a daily or constant basis you were sure you would’ve hated it, but in that moment you loved nothing more than to feel the heat and thick, muggy air. You never realized how beautiful the Dawn Winery was from the outside until just now. Crystalflies flew through the air and around the grape vines. The moon was full and the stars shone brightly in the nighttime sky. It was beautiful, everything you’d always dreamt of and more. The flowers were even more beautiful than you had remembered and they smelt even better than you could’ve ever dreamt of. Everything was perfect, absolutely perfect. That is until you saw the mansion lit up with lights and realized that he and possibly everyone else was awake.

You tried to make a run for it as best as you could but you were stopped by a hand on your wrist pulling you backwards and down onto the ground. You fell into a puddle of mudd, soaking your nightgown as you looked up in horror at the man that was supposed to be your husband. His face was cold and full of fury, you’d never seen him look like this before. This wasn’t like those other times when you tried to take walks, because this time you had actually tried to leave him. Leave him all alone with only his wounded pride and broken heart for comfort. He was seething with rage and all you could do in reply was cry, cry like a child that had been caught with their hands in a cookie jar. You didn’t know what exactly prompted you to cry so much, so hard, and so pathetically, but you continued to do so anyway.

“Come inside, now.” Diluc demanded.

But now that you had a taste of the outside world after such a long time of being deprived of it you wanted more, so you shook your head and rejected his commands. This only further angered Diluc, because he then pulled you up by your forearms and dragged you back inside. You clawed at the door frame trying to stay outside, but he was much stronger than you. He threw you onto the floor and slammed the door shut, proceeding to lock it tightly with a key you’d never seen before. Immediately Diluc started cursing at you, a bright fire in his eyes that consumed his very being began to spread as you realized you had royally fucked up. You couldn’t even focus on a word he was saying because all you could imagine was whatever hell he was about to put you through.

One Week Later…

“Come on, let’s get you all nice and pretty.” Adelinde said, tightening your brand new dress that Diluc had bought you.

It was an apology, a present, but you knew the true nature of the young master, and nothing could fix this marriage, not even your own freedom. You stood there and looked in the mirror as Adelinde fixed your hair with a smile. You too would’ve smiled if it weren’t for the grim reality you faced. Especially on days where Diluc invited over his brother for dinner. Kaeya had no clue of anything that went on in the mansion, not a damn idea, but that didn’t mean he had no suspicions. Kaeya was smart like that, could catch onto things quickly especially being the cavalry captain, and this sort of thing was no different.

After Adelinde had gotten you all nice and ready the two of you descended down the staircase where you ran into Diluc and his brother, Kaeya. Kaeya looked towards you and smiled, helping you down the rest of the way. Kaeya always was a helpful and kind man like that, constantly helping those in need. Sometimes, just sometimes, you wished he’d help you escape this place, but that was a childish dream. The two of you exchanged pleasantries as you all sat at the dining room table and awaited your food. Everything was going well until the events of a week ago started to come flooding in. You tried your best to hide it but with how brightly the sun started to shine through the windows you couldn’t help but miss the heat and the thick air you once touched.

“Are you alright?” Kaeya asked, but you playfully brushed off your odd behavior with laughter and a joke, but he was not convinced.

No, Kaeya was not so easily swayed by the same type of joking behavior he too would use to cover his own emotions. So, he watched you the entire dinner all the way till the end. He noticed how flinched against his brother’s touch and noticed how your gaze always seemed to find itself lined up with the open windows. Something was wrong, something was not right about this and he was determined to get to the bottom of it. He would not let you suffer a moment longer, no matter how impossible the mission seemed. Kaeya wanted to tell you this, he wanted to reassure you that he was going to help you escape, but he could never find the right time with Diluc and Adelinde breathing down his neck as he was sure they did the same, and much worse to you.

It soon came time to say his goodbyes and as he did he locked eyes with you, saying things with them that he would never dare to say out loud in front of the young master. Even though it was just a dinner, and a revealing one at that, he planned to have many more dinners with Diluc in the future, warm up to you, get closer to you, and hopefully gain your trust enough to help you escape this awful, awful place. That is if he didn’t get killed in the process of it all…

#diluc x reader #diluc x you #diluc x y/n #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #yandere diluc x reader #yandere genshin x reader

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wosoluver · 5 months

Text

To undo a mistake

Part 14/17 - previous - next

Lena x Bayern Player!reader

Lena Oberdorf Masterlist

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

"And we're home." Lena said as she closed the front door. When she turned, you had already thrown yourself over the couch.

"Let's get ready for bed yeah?" she said trying to get you up.

"I don't want to get up."

"Don't be a big baby, I'm not sober enough to carry you." she said kneeling down in front of you, as she took your heels off.

"Fine." You practically beelined to your bedroom. And she followed behind.

You washed your face and brushed your teeth, before exiting the bathroom.

"I have a brand new spare toothbrush, I keep in-" You immediately stopped once you saw her dressing in a pair of pijamas, of hers she had left in your house long ago.

"Thought you had sent me back everything." She said with a little smile.

"I forgot I had those."

"Really? Because they seem to have been recently washed." She said teasing you.

You only rolled your eyes, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of a confirmation.

That was one of your favorite pjs, and you had wore it all this time.

You quickly undressed as you put on a shirt and shorts, and then went to lay down. And behind you, Lena was sitting in your bed admiring the woman that you are with that stupid smile once again.

"I left you a toothbrush in there, if you please want to brush your teeth."

"Is that a request or a command?"

"Both?" - she agreed as she disappeared from view.

You were almost asleep when she came back. Giving you a kiss on the forehead and trying to walk away.

"Where are you going?"

"To the couch?"

"You can't sleep on the couch. That's horrible for your back." you said it quietly as you patted the spot next to you, with your eyes still closed. "No cuddling though."

She didn't even try to change your mind, at this point she was so tired she would pass out anywhere.

You thought that was a great decision. Until the next morning.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

You had woken up with arm around you. And you could feel Lena's tranquil breaths on your neck, that brought you goosebumps.

You didn't know if you should stay and not wake her or stand up and get some sense into your brain along with an aspirin and a glass of water. You had decided on second option.

You got out the best you could without waking her. Which wasn't so hard, since unlike you, she was a heavy sleeper.

Walking into the kitchen, you decided on making breakfast, and being a Sunday meant having a not so healthy breakfast. Comfort food during a hangover was always the best.

You were setting up the table and finishing coffee when you saw her coming through the hallway, with a pouty face, that wasn't much like her. At least not when she was with you.

"Good morning."

"Good morning, why are you moody?"

"My head hurts like hell. I don't remember drinking enough, to get this hangover."

"Here." You put the aspirin in front of her, a long with a coffee mug.

She took in the set table in front of her. You aways did these on the weekends. Truth is you had lost that habit after the break up. But you wanted to thank her for taking care of you the night before. Also you had missed these.

"Did I cause too much trouble last night?"

"You don't remember anything?"

"Only 'till the chugging competition."

"After that we danced and then left 'cause your feet was hurting. We got home, cleaned up and went to sleep. And before you say anything, you ordered me to sleep in your bed."

"Yeah had a feeling I did. Sorry. But the couch is horrible!"

"It's fine, your couch is comfortable though, I've slept there couple nights, when we had a fight."

"It was not a couple of nights! It was only once."

And it was true, you had never had many disagreements. That made her recall that day, all those months ago, all the more shocking.

"True. And it didn't even last the whole night, I gave up at like three in the morning."

You both laughed, going down memory lane.

"So, what are you doing today?"

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

Fun fact I actually love to set up tables for breakfast / afternoon tea, like the 22 year old grandma I am.

Next chapter soon! 🩷

#woso x reader #lena oberdorf x reader #lena oberdorf #fc bayern frauen #dfb frauen

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 2 years

Text

Not You

Summary: While Dean and the reader are working a djin case, the hunt goes wrong and they wind up stuck in the djin’s perfect little world made just for them. Dean owns his own successful line of garages and the reader is a school teacher and stay at home mom to their three small kids. Dean and the reader know it’s not real and that they have to find a way out before they get sucked into their own bubble of happiness...

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 1,300ish

Warnings: language, fight

A/N: Enjoy!

______

“Oh, crap,” said Dean. You blinked open your eyes, taking in a bright, sunny room. Sitting up, you found yourself in a bed, a king sized bed, soft sheets all around you. Looking at Dean you found him staring at you, green eyes slightly narrowed.

“Did that djin get the drop on us?” you asked, turning your head and taking in the nice master bedroom.

“Good, it’s you,” he said, giving you a quick hug. “But also, crap it’s you.”

“Sam will come and find us,” you said.

“Or if we bite the bullet in here, it’ll be enough to shock us back awake,” said Dean. “I bet this place has a kitchen with some fancy knives or something.”

“This better not hurt,” you said, rolling out of bed the same time as him.

“Hopefully we’re not strung up out in the real world,” said Dean. He took your hand and you walked out the door.

You nearly fell back on your feet when something went past quickly and down the hall.

“Sorry mom!” said a boy, probably around ten years old.

“Dad, can we have pancakes for breakfast?” said a girl, maybe a year or two older, rushing out of a bedroom nearby.

“I want bacon,” said another girl, this one around seven if you had to guess. She went with the other ones down to the stairs before they all ran down them, pairs of feet rushing around below you.

“Who’s dream world is this?” you asked.

“I always wanted a little girl with you,” he said quietly, pulling you back into the room.

“I wanted three kids,” you said, Dean pursing his lips. “We’re sharing a dream world.”

“Apple pie life,” said Dean. He shut his eyes and sighed. “We need to wake up.”

“Agreed,” you said. You and Dean walked down the hall and down the stairs to the landing, then down some more, finding two kids sitting on a couch watching cartoons, the littlest one sucking on a juice pouch as she climbed up onto a counter stool.

“Daddy. Bacon please,” she said. You went past her and to a butcher block full of knives, grabbing two and skirting out of the room. “Daddy?”

“We’ll be back in a minute,” said Dean, following you around the corner to a dining room in the front of the house.

“Just do it quick before we get sucked in,” you said.

“Wait,” said Dean, grabbing your wrist. “The djin. It didn’t glow blue, remember? Wasn’t it like purple?”

“Yeah? So?”

“What if it’s a different version of djin, you know, like the one with Charlie was,” he said.

“If we stay, we die,” you said.

“We could end up killing ourselves if we do this. A purple djin is not normal. I just...give Sam a little more time to find us. If we don’t snap out of by the morning, we do it then.”

“Dean, one night in here-”

“It’s one day. I survived out in the real world for a day in here,” he said.

“We have no idea if time works the same. We could be-”

“One hour then,” he said.

“I can live with an hour,” you said. “In the meantime...let’s cook breakfast for our fake kids.”

“Alright. I could do with some bacon myself.”

About fifty nine minutes later you were watching Dean laugh with the girl that’d requested bacon. Dean had promised to make cookies with her after breakfast and they were busy washing up some dishes in the sink. The boy and girl tucked into either side of you on the couch.

“You’re not real,” you said, loud enough for them to hear you in the kitchen.

“Of course we are,” said the boy next to you. You stood up and Dean walked over, resting his hands on your arms.

“One more hour?” he asked.

“No. We’re getting suckered in as is,” you said. He frowned and gripped you tighter. “Ow.”

“One more hour,” he said.

“Oh fuck!” you said, Dean grabbing you and pulling you flush against his chest. “You’re not Dean.”

“Took you long enough,” he smirked. The kids disappeared and he wrapped a strong arm around your back, pining you to him. “In case you’re unaware, purple djin? They do something special...you’ve read about it before in the lore…”

“Oh god,” you said, trying to get away from him but he was an image, nothing to truly fight against.

“Dream and then a nightmare,” he said. “My own special blend of nightmare. We all know how Demon Dean treated you and you gave Dean some distance when he first got back. This face hurt you and it’s gonna hurt you again.”

“For your information, he was on that hunt with me, he-”

“I’m your head. The twisted version but I know what you do. I’m sure he’ll get caught too and then it’ll be a party,” he said.

“You can’t do anything to me. It’s my head. When I want to wake up-”

“Should have stabbed yourself earlier,” he said, pushing your wrists behind your back. “Normal Dean, yeah you could take him in a fight if you had to. But me? The demon kind? You got no chance, sweetheart.”

“Fuck you.”

You stomped on his foot and he grunted, giving you enough space to at least get an arm free. You spun away from and slammed back with a punch to his gut he wasn’t expecting. You kicked and got your other arm free but he swiped your feet out from under you. He was on top of you fast and reached behind his back, pulling out the first blade.

“Now you’ve pissed me off,” he said. He raised it up and moved his arm down fast.

Your heart jumped into your throat and your eyes went wide for a brief moment as you were somewhere else, Dean patting your face.

“Honey,” he said, turning your cheek. “Y/N, sweetheart. Talk to me.”

“You get it?” you mumbled as he reached above you and cut you down.

“Yeah. He was nastier than usual,” he said. He caught you as you dropped down and pulled the needle out of your neck. “You can barely stand. How close was I?”

“Well the demon version of you was mid swing to stabbing me in the chest so pretty close,” you muttered.

“That’s...come on,” he said, scooping you up and carrying you out of the building bridal style. Five minutes later you were in the front seat of baby with his jacket laid over top of you. You had your eyes shut when the door opened and you heard him get in. “How you feeling?”

“Crappy,” you said. “Tired.”

“You lost a bit of blood.”

“I’m alright,” you said, shifting over on the seat and leaning against him. “Just wanna go home.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry for what I did back when I was a demon. I know I roughed you up.”

“You weren’t you.”

“Still. I-”

“Dean, you apologized for it a long time ago. It was never your fault. I just want to go home with the real you and cuddle and eat breakfast in bed in the morning,” you said.

“We can do that,” he said.

“We had kids over there too,” you said after a beat. He was quiet as he started to drive away from the old building.

“We can talk about that too,” he said. You tilted your head up and he smiled. “Tomorrow. Tonight, let’s get you fixed up.”

“That I can agree with.”

_______

#spn #supernatural #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #dean x #dean x you #dean one shot #spn one shot

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judgementdaysunshine · 4 months

Text

Mi único

Pairing: Damian Priest x Fem reader

Description: A romance blooms between you and Damian after he teaches you Spanish and appears in your music video

You were over the moon of Damian teaching you Spanish for your upcoming song "My one and only" which would have certain lyrics in spanish. The song had been in progress for the past few months before deciding to switch some of the lyrics to spanish leading you to ask damian not only because he was fluent but also as a way to spend time with him due to your long hidden feelings for him over the past three years before the next few weeks of learning and recording your song, damian felt his heart flutter when he heard a recording of your song as you figured out what to do for the music video before coming up with an idea that could alter the friendship between the two of you in a way that could also ruined it as you watch him pet your dog. "Hey dames, can you be in my video?" he looks up at you with the biggest smile that never fails to turn you to mush, "Of course mi pajarito" you filmed bits and pieces of the music video throughout the next two weeks before filming the last few parts with damian which mostly was the two of you at each other's houses or the park hanging out leading to the two of you watching the clips that turned out real well and watching the music video together which you were over the moon about not knowing two big changes that was heading your way over the next few weeks, your song hit number one on the music billboard and was your first number one hit in your career so far since you broke into the music industry over the past year. You were a bit surprised when damian asked you to come over to talk but didn't mind as you felt a sense of dread form in the pit of your stomach once you saw the look on his face until he suddenly grabbed your face and smashed his lips onto yours, "I wanted to do that for awhile" you both laugh and share a series of paused kisses for the next few minutes before pulling away with a tender smile in silence while he pulled you into his arms on the couch in his living room as the true feelings between the two of you over a night in and dinner until your heart flutters at his words, "I love you" if you weren't already melting in his arms before you were now after his soft whispered words. You doze off as his body heat encases you like a blanket as he caresses your face, "I love you too" he carries you to his bedroom where he lays you in his bed and holds you in his arms as the two of you slept soundly which felt like a dream to until you wake up the next morning to damian kissing your temple before cooking and having breakfast together.

#wwe #damian priest x reader #damian priest #wwe x reader

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vodika-vibes · 6 months

Note

Hi love, I already have a second request. Hehehe.

Anyhew.... Howzer, opal and summer please. Thank you. Love oo

Summer Love

Summary: An early morning at the beach reminds you of just how much you love Howzer.

Pairing: Captain Howzer x F!Reader

Word Count: 646

Prompt: Opal - Faithful Love

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: I hope you like this! I wanted to write Howzer, hence three stories today.

You wake to the sound of waves crashing against the shore. You release a groan and roll onto your side, intent to bury your face in Howzer’s chest and get some more sleep.

Only, as you roll over, you touch nothing by cool sheets.

Blearily you crack open your eyes and peer at his side of the bed. No Howzer. You drop your face into your pillow with a quiet huff, and then roll onto your back and kick the blankets off.

You drag yourself out of bed, pausing only long enough to pull the shirt the Howzer was wearing the day before over your thin tank top, and then you push open the bedroom door and, blindly, walk through the house.

He’s not in the kitchen. Or the living room.

And you yawn widely as you slide open the glass door that leads to the back deck. And there he is, sitting at the table, sipping some caf, and chatting to your neighbor.

The moment you step onto the desk, the conversation stops and Howzer turns his gaze towards you, an adoring smile on his face, “Good morning, cyare.”

“Mor-” a wide yawn cracks your face, “-ning.”

He stands and pulls you into a hug, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, “Did I wake you?”

“Not really,” You press your face against his chest and inhale deeply, enjoying the scent of Howzer mixed when the subtle scent of salt water, “Did you go swimming this morning?”

“It felt more enjoyable than running.” He kisses your forehead once more, and then guides you over to the table and presses his mug into your hands. “You remember Irma?”

You peer at the other woman, her smile looks slightly strained, though you can’t possibly imagine why. “Yes, you told us about the seafood restaurant last night. We enjoyed it a lot.”

Her smile becomes a little more strained, “Well, that’s good.” Her gaze cuts towards Howzer, “but we were having a conversation that you interrupted.”

Howzer’s genial smile fades slightly, “She’s always welcome to join any conversation that I’m a part of.”

Ah.

She has a crush on your Howzer. You can’t blame her, your Howzer is gorgeous, after all.

He’s also completely faithful to you, and you to him.

Your gaze slides across the woman, and you smile gently, “We’re actually about to start breakfast-”

Her face flushes a deep shade of red, “Well then, I’d better go.” She blurts as she stands suddenly, and flees from the deck.

Howzer glances at you, “You hate eating this early.” He says with a slow smile on his face.

“She doesn’t know that.” You reply with a light smile.

“Jealous, cyar’ika?” Howzer lightly tugs you onto his lap, his arms sliding securely around your waist as you bury your face in his neck.

You laugh softly, “Not even a little.”

“Good.” He lightly pushes you back so he can catch your lips in the gentlest kiss, “Because I would choose you over anyone.”

“Anyone?”

“Anyone.”

“Hm…good.” You lightly play with the hair at the base of his head, “Because I would choose you over anyone too.”

His eyes sparkle with mischief, “Even Rex?”

“Rex who?” You reply with a teasing smile.

“Hm, good answer.” He catches your lips in a deep kiss, “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“I don’t think that’s possible. I have a lot of love.” Howzer murmurs against your lips.

“And it’s all mine, lucky me.” You brush your thumb against the scar on his cheek, “Would you like me to make waffles for breakfast?”

“I would love that.” He replies as he stands with you in his arms, “And then we can go to that aquarium we saw the other day.”

“Sounds like a perfect day to me.” You say with a warm smile, as he carries you back into the house.

#star wars #tbb #vodika vibes 500 followers celebration #captain howzer x reader #howzer x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

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sweetbunpura · 17 days

Note

>:D

Ok~ Strap in, Cause this is gonna be a long one too!

So, the basic premise of this idea is that, When Silver, Sebek, Grim, and Yuu escape from Sebek's collapsing dream, Yuu ends up getting splintered off and separated somehow during transit.

While, Silver, Grim, and Sebek land in Lilia's dream, Yuu ends up landing in a completely different dream. Whose dream, you may ask?

Rollo. It's Rollo's dream.

Yuu doesn't crash land into the dream though, no. She jolts awake in bed, as if awakening from a horrible nightmare. Her breathing is ragged and her eyes dart around the room, alert and wary. There is no sign of encroaching darkness or Malleus. Rather, she was in the bedroom she and Rollo would usually share when they cuddled together.

She sits there in bed for a moment, processing.

....

She blinks.

....

Nothing happens. Her rapid breathing begins to slow.

Was... Did she just have a bad dream? But... it felt so real...

She hears what sounds like rustling from down the hall. Then, the sound of the oven going off. Someone was in the kitchen. The smell of breakfast finally decides to make a coying pass at her nose. She smiles and rolls her eyes. Yuu slips out of bed and pads down the hall.

In all her eagerness, she fails to notice that the interior architecture of the hallway is slightly....off...

She turns into the kitchen and smirks when she sees her boyfriend with his back to her, still wearing his pajamas only with the addition of an apron, pulling what looks to be home-made croissants out of the oven.

"Really, Rolls?" she chuckles, eyeing the ensemble of breakfast foods already on the table, "I thought we agreed that breakfast was my thing."

Rollo huffed.

"On any other day, I would have let you, but..."

She sees the tips of his ears flush.

"I..I wanted to do something special. Today is our anniversary after all."

Yuu's brain halted.

Anniversary?

..What anniversary??

They had only been officially dating for three months???

"What are you talking about?"

Rollo froze just as he sat the croissants down, then.. slowly turned around to face her, his expression flat.

"Yuu...Don't tell me you forgot."

Yuu racked her brain, trying to think of anything that would be anniversary worthy. All she was drawing were blanks. It must have shown on her face, because Rollo's scrunched in annoyance.

He rolls his eyes.

"Honestly Yuu.."

He starts pulling off his oven mitts.

Yuu's eyes widen when she sees it. There, on his right hand-

"Its not like you to forget our wedding anniversary."

-was a gold wedding band.

.....And from there things begin to spiral for Yuu. She doesn't hate the idea of being married to Rollo, far from it. Its just...not something she imagined him dreaming about.

In his perfect little dream world, there is no magic and He and Yuu have, apparently, been married for two years, having got hitched shortly after graduating college (a College that weirdly is NRC or NBC, just regular ass college). "Ramshackle" is actually just their house, that has elements of Fluer city architecture frankensteined on to it.

His brother is also alive in this world and comes over to visit later on after getting out of school.

"But, where is the truly angst part about all of this?" You may ask.

Well... did I forget to mention that, since Yuu has no way of leaving this dream, as her dreamwalker is in another castle at the moment and can't choose the dream he enters, she's stuck playing to Rollo's fantasy? Cause if he wakes up, and Silver isn't there to bail them out, then the dream will collapse and they'll get swallowed by darkness.

Also, Yuu has to desperately fight not to "fall asleep" here as this dreamwalking experience slowly morphs into a shared dream, with Malleus's magic beginning to tug at her mental eyelids as the dream begins to include this that she desperately wishes for.

Like her father, for example.

Slowly, the dream begins to feel more and more real.

So, Yuu is effectively forced to pretend that this is all real until Silver and Co. show up, while simultaneously fighting to keep her grasp on what's real and what isn't.

Just basic dream mind-fuckery~

-From Rollo x Yuu angst Anon (Shortened to Angst Anon for brevity)

Okay, but I love that you looked at the info about her, because you brought up her uncle and her father~

Yuu stares at his golden wedding ring and fights to keep her eyes from widening. She takes a glance at her own hand and, yep, there's a matching one right there on her ring finger.

She clears her throat before Rollo has time to think about her mistake. "Yeah, my mistake. I just woke up."

His look of annoyance disappears as he approaches her. "That is true, perhaps it's my fault for waking you up without time to process." He wraps his arms around her and pulls her close. "That and you'd have changed into normal clothes by now."

Yuu, for the second time this dream, looks down to see herself in Rollo's large gray shirt. "You're right."

He chuckles and kisses her, which she returns. It's a calming morning for a married couple, Yuu could recount her parents doing this in the morning before both of them had to run off to work. She misses the door opening and closing followed by the pausing footsteps.

"Should I leave you two lovebirds?" That is not a voice Yuu recognized and as they separate, she stares wide eyed at the newcomer.

The man is leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a smile on his face. His gray hair is swept to the side of his head and he's sporting a dress shirt combo outfit. His eyes are the same as Rollo's and Yuu's brighter green eyes flick between him and her "husband" before it dawns on her.

Oh lord, this is his brother.

Rollo semi-glares at his brother. "Can I help you, Hector?"

Hector laughs. "No, no, I just wasn't expecting to walk in on you two making out."

Rollo's face flashes red and without his usual handkerchief handy, he just hides his face in Yuu's shoulder. She hardly notices, too busy staring at Hector.

"Wonderland to Yuu." He waves his hand in her face, which she flinches away from.

"S-Sorry about that, Hector. Not 100% awake."

"Understandable." Hector pulls Rollo away from her. "Did you get everything for tonight?"

Rollo, now composed, just sends his brother a look. "You think ill of me if you honestly believe I would forget a single thing for this anniversary."

"What's going on or is this some top-secret 'can't tell the wife' thing?" She jokes.

Rollo grabs her hands and Yuu hears the faint clink of the rings as they meet. "I've invited your parents over to spend part of the day with us."

Parents.

Plural.

"M-my parents?"

"Indeed, your father-"

Yuu feels her mind disconnect immediately after she hears that and her grip tightens on Rollo's hands, causing him to pause.

"My Love?'

"R-Repeat what you just said, I must've missed it."

"I said your mother would try to meet us over at the museum. She'll be dropping by after she visits your father's grave."

Right, right. Her father is dead... and there's no way for him to return. Well, Yuu knew one thing to be very certain in this moment.

She was going to kick Malleus' ass for this.

🎊Thanks angst anon!🎊

#Listen Yuu x Rollo is both soft coded and angst coded #they both suffer #twisted wonderland #rollo flamme #yuu homura #sanctuary #thorn answers

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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 1 year

Text

The Arcana HCs: Asra and Faust's Birthday

~ it's June 13, so here's how MC might celebrate Asra and Faust's birthday with them. Enjoy! - brainrot ~

You let them sleep in until they're ready to get up

You, on the other hand, sneak out early to collect supplies. For what, some might ask? Well, he's not the only one good at keeping secrets ~

Faust is happy to accompany you while her master snoozes, especially as you promised her unlimited chin scritches and she is determined to get as much out of that as she can

You want them to enjoy a slow morning, so you leave any plans for the afternoon and work on breakfast while the golden morning sun lights up the kitchen

Faust keeps watch so you can focus, and you know Asra's opening his eyes when you hear her excited little voice shouting Awake! Awake! into your mind

This is your cue to climb back in bed to snuggle with them. Breakfast can wait ...

When he is ready to get up, you'll be able to bring him breakfast. One of your errands involved swinging by Selasi's stall, and the lovely baker has given you samples of all his test recipes because he knows how much Asra adores new and unusual things

Selasi also helped you fashion a mini paper party hat for Faust

Now the three of you are piled on the overstuffed, rumpled bed, eating and giggling and watching Faust pose with her hat

You also have to keep coming up with excuses for why Asra isn't allowed to look around certain parts of the shop - pieces of your surprise are stashed in several different corners

"MC -" they're giggling at the edge of the bed, only pretending to struggle against where you have your hands pressed over their eyes to keep them from getting up or peeking. "Tell me what it is!"

Never tell! Faust is wriggling along his shoulders in her own intimidation game, trying her best not to be dislodged by Asra's happy laughter. Friend surprise!

"A surprise, hm?" They get suspiciously still. "How about this?" And the cushion they swing at you is the start of a pillow fight that turns the whole bedroom into a mess

You're trying to figure out how to keep things hidden while cleaning up at the same time when you hear a knock at the door

Right on cue, Aisha and Salim are standing in your shop with beaming smiles on their faces. You bundle Asra out the door to spend lunch with them and spend the next hour or so tidying and closing up

The next stage of your surprise begins when Muriel arrives at your doorstep to help you carry several things up to the palace. Most of what you bring gets whisked away to the gardens under Nadia's watchful eye, and Portia takes the last few bundles with a wink

You stick around for a few hours, helping to set up the majority of the more magical items and finalizing the evening plans. As it nears tea time, you collect a new bundle from Nadia and set off for Aisha and Salim's house

So far things seem to be progressing even more smoothly than you expected. Asra opens the door for you, confused because their parents told them to wait here for you while they went to "run some errands"

"MC?" He eyes the bundle under your arm curiously, a bemused smile on his face. "Is it time for the next part of your mysterious plan?"

"Not yet." You drag them to the couch and pull them down next to you. "Now we take a nap."

He's not arguing with that. You doze with him, knowing that the coming night is going to be longer than he can guess. You shake him gently awake as the sun begins to set, brewing him a quick cup of tea before you hand him the first bundle

"I can open this now?" They smile teasingly and purposefully fumble with the wrappings

Inside is a lovely new set of clothes, Nadia's gift. They're styled and tailored perfectly enough to be suitable for any party, and yet as durable and practical as the best traveling gear

It's twilight when you walk across the palace bridge hand in hand. You can hear and smell the festivities wafting from the palace gardens, and even better is the thrill of curiosity and excitement in Asra's fingertips when he squeezes your hand

They're prepared to be dazzled by whatever delights you and Nadia have clearly conspired to create, but they don't expect the number of people present when the two of you enter the grounds

All of them people he knows, all of them people he's friends with, but so many he assumed he didn't mean anything to. He was expecting to see under ten people, but this number is easily over thirty

They can't remember a time when they were considered a part of a community. For as long as they can remember, they've been a wanderer who found home with the two people they felt most connected to, with no permanent place or support system

This is different. Seeing all these recognizable Vesuvian faces in one place is the proof that there is a community around him, and that this community has a spot for them in it

The evening is magical. There's all kinds of food laid out with puzzles to solve to unlock different dishes, there's floating magical bubbles which play out different comical scenes in whorls of colorful light when they're popped, and there's a game of riddles that lead him on the silliest scavenger hunt Vesuvia's ever seen

Eventually it becomes late enough that even the night owls are beginning to get tired. Muriel disappears briefly and returns with two traveling packs, which he trades with you wordlessly for the shop key

Asra watches in delighted confusion. "MC, there's more? Where are you taking me?"

"Where do you think?" You bid everyone your goodbyes together, Aisha and Salim adding their own mysterious "see you soon"s, and then you're taking their hand and walking through the silvery moonlit fields to meet with a familiar beast

A very sleepy Faust curls herself up under Asra's shirt as the two of you take off. His head turns so he can speak in your ear over the rush of the wind

"We're going to Nopal?"

"Nopal first," you murmur back, "and Zadith after. Your parents say they want to show us where they learned alchemy - and where you got your name from. We'll meet them on the coast in a few day's time."

You won't always be able to plan elaborate garden parties or a month away from the shop for Asra's birthday. But for the dimples that keep appearing and the contented love and joy in their eyes? You'll do it as often as you can

#the arcana #asra the arcana #asra alnazar #happy birthday asra alnazar #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana game #the arcana fluff #asra the magician #asra alnazar x reader #asra x apprentice #ask arcana brainrot #the arcana fanfic

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iamleesi · 1 month

Text

THE HUNTERS & THE SOLDIER

Pairing: Avenger! Bucky Barnes x OC! Avenger Reader

Summary: Bucky’s being an idiot once again and you meet someone… quite interesting? Or creepy? You decide. Also a surprise in the end simply because I can.

Warnings: Alcohol, bit of angst (?), gun, annoying lady, allusion to s3x if you squint, mention of Hydra and being watched/ followed -> 18+!!

Other: Forgive me for eventual mistakes but I wrote this in 3 days and I changed my mind about 60 times

-> Masterlist

-> Part twelve ; part fourteen

-> Devil On Your Shoulder (13)

The ticking of the living room clock was the only sound filling the space around you, each second’s click made you lose your hope about Bucky’s return. Hours had passed since Cassandra had knocked at your door and Bucky had stormed out of the house. Sam and Dean had completely disappeared as well - not that you made any efforts in contacting those two, you anger towards them was still very much present - leaving you all alone with the girl.

You hadn’t spoken much to her due to the fear of stressing her out more than she already was; instead, you opted to let her rest in your bedroom for the night, saving the questions for tomorrow.

You had searched the whole neighborhood for Bucky, checking nearby parks or public places he could be at but there was no sign of him, not even his shadow. It was as if he had vanished. In moments like these, you hated to admit how worried sick you were for his safety, knowing Hydra had their eyes on him. If he were to fall into their hands once again because you couldn’t find him, you’d never forgive yourself.

Hours later, that fear consumed your thoughts. You hadn’t eaten anything all day - the scrambled eggs Bucky had made for breakfast were given to Cassandra since she needed it more than you. But you, honestly, weren’t hungry anyway, especially not when Bucky’s phone went straight to voicemail every time you called.

Your attention was caught by the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs, and you turned your head slightly around to see Cassandra coming your way. She was now dressed with some new, clean clothes you had given her, and she seemed to be feeling way better than before.

“Hey.” You tiredly said, as she sat beside you. “I thought you were sleeping.”

“Couldn’t find sleep.” She made a small smile your way, resting her feet on the couch to wrap her arms around her knees. “I’m sorry for earlier.” She mumbled. “I’m sure he’ll be back.”

You looked at her and shook your head at her apologetic tone of voice. “It’s okay, it’s a sensitive topic for him. It’s… I don’t know why he doesn’t pick up the phone.”

Your nervousness intensified once you spoke, voicing your thoughts was like confirming your worries. You began to play with the golden ring on your finger trying to get your mind off of it, but unlike other times it did nothing to ease the growing anxiety gnawing at you. He had specifically told you to call him once Cassie had calmed down, and you did, but he ignored you.

And, to be completely honest here, being ignored was the best case scenario your brain could think of.

Cassandra’s voice brought you back to the present. “Do you want me to help search for him? I’m sure he’s not far away, and I know the city.” She offered kindly, worry evident in her tone. Her guilt over what she said was as clear as a day.

“No, no.” You waved her off gently. “You need to rest, so feel free to go to bed. I think I’ll go for a walk to clear my head.” The last thing you wanted was to drag her into your tunnel of worries - not just for Bucky, but for the entire situation. She was still a missing girl and she needed to stay inside in order for no one to find her, so letting her out of the house was out of the equation.

Also, she was the goddamn key to solve the case and she was sitting right beside you while three out of four people working on the case were men (as if that was unfortunate enough) that couldn’t set their priorities straight. There were people that needed to be found, like Fury and Maria, others who needed to be captured - and yet, there you were, all alone.

“Are you sure?” She pressed, her brow furrowing with worry. “I don’t mind staying up with you if it’s going to help. I mean… you’re here because of me. It’s the least I can do.”

You managed to give her a small, grateful smile. “I appreciate it, Cassie, but none of this is your fault. There’s no need for you to worry or stress over it. Get some rest, I’ll see you in the morning.” You hoped the assurance in your voice was convincing.

Cassandra hesitated for a moment, clearly torn between wanting to help and follow your advice. Eventually, much to your relief, she nodded. “Alright, but if you need anything don’t hesitate to wake me up.”

“I won’t.” You promised, knowing you’d never wake her up in any case. “Also the house is secure. No one can get in without a key, so you’ll be fine.” You reassured her, watching as she stood up, nodded at you, and headed back back towards the stairs.

Once she was out of sight, you finally let out a deep sigh and looked around the dimly lit room. You forced yourself to get up, knowing that sitting around doing nothing only worsened your mood. Especially seeing your phone screen remain dark without a single message back from Bucky added fuel to the fire.

Grabbing your coat from the armchair, your slipped it on and headed towards the door, locking it securely behind you as you stepped onto the street.

It was probably all the emotions you were feeling at the moment, but for some reason you couldn’t quite understand why the atmosphere felt different that night. It was as if the air stood still, and you sensed presences that weren’t even there.

The streets were empty so you must have had imagined it, the only sound being your footsteps on the wet crosswalk. You double checked behind you to ensure your were alone and, in fact, there was absolutely no soul around. Even the neighbor’s dog was oddly quiet since the animal seemed to be possessed at each hour of the fucking night, but the owners left the poor creature outside alone the whole time so it wasn’t really the dog’s fault.

However, feeling watched or not, you needed to have a proper walk and get your mind off of those three stupid ass men for one night. You could almost excuse Bucky’s behavior initially; seeing the hurt on his face was enough to understand what had come over him. Even if you weren’t close to him, living in the same building for so long meant you knew that being seen as a murder was a trigger for him. You didn’t want to hold him accountable for how he reacted to those accusations, it was his own way to deal with it.

What you couldn’t tolerate was that, if he was still out there somewhere, he hadn’t bothered to let you know he was okay or to check how things ended with Sam and Dean. Especially after hearing how they had kept Cassie locked up for a whole day.

Lost in thought, you almost collided with a stranger who stood directly in your path, making no effort to move even as you took a few steps back.

Your already sour mood darkened further, aggravated by his presence and the small, annoying grin on his face. He appeared to be in his late forties, dressed entirely in black. The streetlight above his head flickered intermittently, unlike the others that worked perfectly.

“I need to go that way.” You said, pointing to the street behind him, as he blocked your path.

He stared into your eyes for what seemed like an eternity before finally stepping aside, extending a hand in the direction you were headed. “Forgive me, kid, didn’t mean to startle you.”

His voice was smooth, but carried an unsettling undertone that you couldn’t ignore. You shot him a glare as you reluctantly walked past him, your eyes not leaving his for the slightest second - you didn’t like this man. He gave off weird vibes, way too familiar vibes, and you didn’t like that.

“You didn’t startle me.” You mumbled. “Maybe just don’t stand in the middle of the crosswalk.”

“I’ll make sure to follow your advice from now on.” The man answered with a sarcastic tone, giving you one last glance before turning around to walk away. “Have the sweetest night, kid.”

You stood there for a moment, watching his short figure disappear around a corner. The nickname he used left a bittersweet taste in your mouth, but you didn’t think much of it as you turned back around to continue your night walk.

You didn’t have a place in mind, the cold air hitting your skin was just a way to cool you off - it was a nice, relaxing feeling for you. Even with that, your mind immediately drifted back to Bucky, Sam and Dean; if you survived this, you’d fight to be paired up with women in the future missions because you had had enough. And it had barely been a week.

You tried to focus on the rhythm of your steps and the crisp night air, which gradually started to finally calm you down. You didn’t know how long you had been walking when, at some point, you arrived near the center of the city, which was far more crowded than the area where you lived. Deciding it was about time to get back, you turned around - or almost.

“I don’t think that’s the right direction.”

A voice made you stop dead in your tacks, and you looked ahead only to see the same man from earlier, throwing something heavy into a nearby dumpster. He smacked his hands together to remove some dirt before slipping them into his pockets, walking towards you with that same small grin you had seen before.

He stopped right in front of you, and all your efforts to dissolve the anger you had built up during the day vanished in a mere instant. Great.

Why this mad had such an effect on you, you didn’t know.

“Excuse me?” You raised an eyebrow, which only made his grin wider.

“I said, you were going in the wrong direction.” He repeated, his voice tinged with mockery. He pointed behind his shoulders, as he spoke again. “You need to go that way, he’s having fun over there. You don’t want him to blew the mission, do you?”

“I have dealt with crazy fuckers like you before, alright? Leave me alone.” You shoved him off, turning your back to head back home. Or, at least, that was your intention.

“I see your attitude hasn’t changed in these last ten years. I thought you’d get nicer with age, but I’m glad to know I was wrong.” He called after you, making your freeze for a second. “Has no one ever taught you that it’s best to be nice to strangers?”

You turned back around, studying his expression because he sure as hell got your attention with that. He seemed to be lucid and collected, making you reconsider in an instant your initial thoughts of him as just another street creep. After all, you had encountered way too many in your life.

“What did you just say?” You said, your voice laced with suspicion.

He took a step closer, still grinning. “Ten whole years. I must admit, I never thought you’d get paired up with the Winchesters. But they go wherever trouble is, so I had to see it coming at some point; my bad.” He raised his hands in surrender before continuing. “But as I was saying, I’m happy to see you haven’t changed. Still so quick to judge, so quick to dismiss and so, so slow when it comes to understand who you can trust and who you can’t. You even got a name now, don’t you, my dear Emma?”

Your mind started to race the second you heard your name fall from his mouth with such normalcy. You were transported back to ten years ago, back to the time you were still with Hydra, to try and remember who he was. But everything was blank, you were sure you had never seen this man before; and there he was, talking to you as if you were his long-lost something.

“How do you know my name?” You demanded, keeping your voice steady. You were an Avenger, sure, but due to your request your face was not allowed to be published - therefore, nobody outside of your friends or some of the people you worked with knew who you were.

He tilted his head, his grin widening. “Oh, I know a lot more about you than just your name, dear. I’ve been watching you for a long time, not that you could have known. It’s fascinating how you’ve grown, how you’ve changed… yet some things remained the same.”

“What do you want?”

“Me? Oh, nothing.” He shrugged. “Believe it or not, I’m on your side. All this… trying to solve creepy mysteries with your gang like some sort of Scooby Doo in real life is quite exciting, but I need you to solve this case quickly because I’m getting tired of you all dancing around it.”

“Do I even know you?!” You asked, as this man was making less sense each passing second.

“No, silly.” His tone was condescending. “So don’t strain your little brain.” He waved a hand in front of your face. “I never bothered to meet you personally, I had more important things to do like…” He trailer off, trying to find the words. “Nothing really, but I’ve been watching you. And let me tell you, that little stunt you pulled when you let that friend of yours escape… what was her name? You used to call her something like Naomi or something?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You lied, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Nonie.” He smirked, knowing he had your full attention. “Yes, that’s right, because she was anonymous. Brave of you, really, but also quite foolish. She stayed for you, you know? Even after you freed her; she stayed around in the woods and brought John Winchester straight to you, so that he could save you. And what did she get in the end? She was burned alive.”

Your breath caught in your lungs at his words, confirming that the man in front of you wasn’t just some crazy idiot on the streets harassing women. He knew about Nonie, a secret you always kept for yourself (one of the many) and that meant he knew far more than what you were comfortable with. And you still had no idea of who he was or where he came from.

The pain of his revelation hit you like a punch to the gut. Not that you had ever held out much hope for Nonie, considering she had been turned into a Wendigo, but you had convinced yourself to believe that perhaps, somehow, she found some form of peace. Hearing that she was dead, though, was like a knife to the heart. She had been your first and only friend, or the closest thing you had to one, for most of your life.

“What do you want from me?“

“Your loyalty.” He answered, the serious you had seen him all night.

You let out an honest chuckled at that, which only made him roll his eyes. “You want me to be loyal to you? I only just met you and, frankly, you’re not exactly making a great first impression.”

He smirked, unfazed by your sarcasm. “I don’t need to make a good impression, my dear, I just need you to understand that we can help each other. We can make a deal, right here and right now, and I’ll explain everything to you. Starting with the truth about Ella White.”

You hated to admit that you took a moment to consider his offer, truly, the second he mentioned that woman. He did seem to know a lot of things, but you didn’t know him and you didn’t trust him. “Listen, not trying to sound rude here, but get lost.” You finally said him, even if a part of you was burning to know what he was talking about. “You’ve been creepy this whole time saying that you watched me when I was younger and now you want to be buddies?” You raised a brow at his nonsense.

“Not buddies, partners. You know, work together, be a team.” He clarified. “You don’t even know how many things we can accomplish together, we’d have everyone at our feet - do you not want that? Imagine, just imagine, how it could be like to rule the living and the dead.” His green eyes were locked into you as he talked, getting close to you.

“You sound like a dictator. I hate dictators.” You answered. “And if you don’t leave me alone I’ll put a bullet right between your eyebrows.”

He laughed at what you said, and your crossed your arms under your chest quite offended. “You’re funny, girl, I’ll give you that. But if you want to kill me, I think a simple gun won’t do it. It’s not your lucky day.” He said, faking an apologetic tone.

“You haven’t told me your name yet.”

“It’s not important.” He replied dismissively. “I’ll give you time to think about my offer, kid.” With a casual shrug, he began to walk past you.

Your eyes refused to leave his figure, and you were conflicted whether to follow him or not. Not because you wanted to accept his weird offer, but because he was clearly involved somehow and letting him go didn’t seem like the smartest choice. But you had a feeling that your paths would cross again.

“I already said no.” You called after him, raising your voice slightly.

He paused, turning his head slightly to glance back at you. “Go ask Dean Winchester why he agreed to work on this case.” He said cryptically. “And then you might change your mind, I’ll make sure to be there when you do.”

You furrowed your brows, puzzled by his words - but even what he said earlier didn’t make more sense than that. What did Dean have anything to do with this? And why was this stranger so confident that you would eventually change your mind? Sure, Dean hadn’t been exactly the most cooperative person in the last couple of days, but he was making it look as if you couldn’t trust him.

“And before I forget,” He added suddenly. “You might want to go take a look at the bar down the road, see if you can find something interesting, take it as a little help from me.” With that, he turned and walked away. You swore that he vanished as soon as you blinked, but that was impossible… wasn’t it?

Your feet moved before your brain could properly process his words, and you started to head towards the place he told you to go to. It’s true you didn’t have positive vibes regarding that man whose name you didn’t know, but so far he only said things you knew were real, more or less, so you thought it wasn’t a bad idea to go see for yourself what he was referring to.

You hurried down the streets, the sounds of laughter and clicking glasses growing louder as you approached. Hesitating at the entrance, you took a deep breath before pushing the wooden door open, the little bell above it chiming softly. The noise went unnoticed by most of the people in there, except two men who glanced your way and left the second you entered.

The smell of alcohol and smoke was thick, but you ignored it as you scanned the room. No familiar faces met your gaze, and some doubts began to creep in. Perhaps the most logical reason was that the stranger had been toying with you all along. You shook your head, feeling foolish for trusting him even for a moment. Turning to leave, you prepared to step back into the street hoping to not meet any other idiot that was going to mess with your ideas.

Except that then, out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a familiar face sitting alone in the farthest corner of the room.

Bucky Barnes. He was hunched over a drink, his eyes low as he watched the liquid twirl before taking a sip of it. Relief washed over you upon seeing that he was unharmed, but it was quickly replaced by that very same anger you had for the whole day. He had left you worried this whole time while he was there, drinking his problems away - and he didn’t have the excuse of being drunk because you knew it was physically impossible for him to be.

You weaved your way through the crowded bar, your eyes firm on him. With each step closer he seemed to feel your presence, as he looked up from his glass his eyes found yours in no time. His posture visibly stiffened and a flicker of surprise crossed his face as you dropped into the chair across from him, not so kindly.

“Nice to see you too.” He muttered, barely glancing up.

“You left me worried sick.” You snapped, your voice low but intense in order not to have people overhear the conversation. “I called and texted thinking the worst had happened and you were here drinking? What the fuck is your problem?”

“I needed some time alone, alright?” He said dismissively, taking another sip.

“Time alone?” You scoffed. “You could have at least let me know you were okay, for fuck’s sake. Cassandra said some hurtful things while, mind you, she was scared for her life and you disappeared for hours? We have a damn case to solve, Bucky, people are counting on us.”

He shrugged, still not meeting your eyes. “Believe it or not, I have been working. Didn’t think it mattered whether you knew or not.”

“Didn’t think it-” You cut yourself off, pinching the bridge of your nose. “We’re a team, Bucky. When one of us bails, if affects everyone. We lost a day because apparently I’m paired up with people that run away when things aren’t convenient anymore.”

“How did you even find me?” He tilted his head, ignoring your outburst. “You have the worst sense of orientation I’ve ever seen. Didn’t know you knew the city.”

“I don’t, a man told me where you were.”

“A man?” He raised a brow, his skepticism evident. “You made new friends already? That’s great, honey. Socializing is good for you.”

You blinked a few times, taken aback at his nonchalance. You had just told him that a stranger had essentially been following him, and that was his reaction? His dismissive attitude left your dumbfounded to say the least.

“You’re getting on my nerves.” You said, your patience wearing thin. Not that it was great before.

“Do you know how to get back home?” He asked, not even being fazed by what you said.

“Yes.” You responded, barely masking your irritation.

“Then go.” He said, waving you off. “I’ll get back later.”

He glanced to his left, and your eyes followed his gaze. You immediately understood the reason behind his attitude, and you were not happy in the slightest about it. Dalia emerged from the bathroom, heading straight to your table.

Now that you looked down, you noticed two glasses of whiskey instead of one, and one of them had lipstick mark on it. Of course, that made sense.

“Harry.” She said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Didn’t know your wife was going to join us tonight.” Her fake smile grated on your nerves.

“She was just about to leave, actually.” Bucky said, giving you a look that clearly said, ‘do as I say.’ “Isn’t that right, honey?”

You felt a surge of anger at his blatant disregard, clenching your jaw at the way he was acting and at the way she was smirking. “Sure.” You replied sarcastically, standing up. “After all, I wouldn’t want to ruin the night.”

Dalia’s smirk widened as she slid into your seat not even a second after you moved, not hiding the fact she was happy you would leave. “So nice of you, Jade. You know, me and your husband have a lot in common, I might steal him from you.” She chuckled at her own words.

You narrowed your eyes at Dalia’s taunting remark, her words grating on your last nerve. “Ah, good luck with that.” You retorted, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m sure you’ll have a blast with his mood changes.”

Bucky shot you a glare, but you ignored it. “Sweetheart.” He said, the nickname anything but sweet. “Get home safe, I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, I promise I’ll be nice to him.” Dalia chimed in, leaning back on the chair. “Or not.” She added, winking at him.

You gritted your teeth, struggling to maintain your composure at her clearly flirting with your fake husband. “Have fun.” You simply muttered out, noticing how Bucky stopped meeting your gaze a while ago - instead, he was looking at his empty glass of whiskey.

“We will.” She said, waving at you with that annoying smile on her face.

You turned on your heel and headed towards the door, ignoring the tension in the air behind you. As you stepped out, into the cool night air, a mixture of frustration and hurt made their way in your stomach. You didn’t know why you were feeling so pissed at her being there with him, but you imagined it was because he had been doing God knows what all day with the neighbor’s daughter when you had a fucking case to solve.

Pushing aside your emotions, you finally walked back home hoping to remember the way to go there, walking quickly to put as much distance as you could between yourself and the scene inside the bar.

To think you were actually starting to like the guy now that your issues were kind of solved, but maybe Bucky wasn’t really the right person you wanted as a friend if he was willing to jeopardize the mission for a woman he met a few days ago.

You finally arrived home, the exhaustion weighing heavy on your shoulder as you shut close the door behind you. Tossing your coat onto the couch still completely in the dark, since you were too drained to bother with the lights, all you craved was a shower and some sleep due to the late hour and the events of the day. However, it seemed that fate had other plans.

As you made your way towards the stairs, the doorbell pierced the silence. With a scoff, you retraced your steps and swung the the door open, only to be met with the sight of the infuriating man in black, his grin widening at the sight of your irritation.

“I told you he was having fun.” He remarked, relishing in your obvious displeasure. “Did I not?”

“More than me for sure.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, well… men are weak. Give them a beautiful woman and they’ll forget about their duties. If you need help, real help with this case, I’m offering it. You just need to say yes.”

“No.” You said again, firmly.

“You’re as stubborn as your mother.”

Your heart stopped at that. “My- my what?”

“Mother.” He repeated casually as if dropping that bombshell on you was just another walk in the park for him. “What? Did you think you popped out of nowhere?” He grinned, using the knowledge he had about your past - past you didn’t even know - to manipulate you into joining him.

You struggled to find the right words to respond, but your brain couldn’t process anything concrete.

“Oh, I’ve got your attention for real now, don’t I? Little Emma wants to know about her mother more than you want help for this case. Selfish, I love it.”

You met his gaze with steely silence, refusing to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging he was right. He had been right the whole time, if we want to be honest, and in the back of your mind you kept thinking about his words as if there was a little devil on your shoulder that was telling you to listen to him. It was clear now that he knew how to find you, who you were and what you wanted… which wasn’t really great news.

You simply shut the door on his face, and you hoped for a moment of peace - but even that was short lived. The doorbell chimed once more, prompting you to hurry back, only this time you had your gun in hand, ready to get rid of the stranger once and for all.

As you opened the door again with your finger firmly on the trigger, you quickly realized that there was no need to use violence that time. Instead, you lowered your hand with clear surprise and relief on your face, your expression softening as you took the unexpected sight before you.

“Woah, calm down.” A familiar voice remarked, her eyebrows raised at your defensive stance. “A bit on edge, are we? Let me in and explain everything, I’m here to help.”

“Natasha.” You greeted, moving aside to let her in.

Finally someone who didn’t get on your nerves.

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humanpurposes · 1 year

Text

My Heart Belongs to Daddy, part iii, modern!Aemond

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist // Can you read my mind? I've been watching you

modern!Aemond x step-daughter

Warnings: 18+, suggestive themes, nothing too crazy

Words: 4700

A/n: Also available to read on AO3.

The morning after the wedding she, Alys and Aemond met in the breakfast room of the hotel and had a perfectly normal meal.

Perfectly normal.

Alys had met someone from White Worm magazine at the wedding and was keen on discussing a possible partnership. Aemond didn’t seem particularly enthused, but he knew when to hum and nod as he sipped his flat white.

Even at 9am he looked immaculate. White shirt, hair freshly washed, a Rolex on his wrist and no bags or dark circles under his eyes. His eyes were fixed on Alys, sitting across from him, his expression was somewhat blank and perfectly normal.

A hangover pulsed in her head and her skin felt tight. She had about three mouthfuls of her eggs benedict before she felt like she was going to retch it all up again. She downed a glass of orange juice, hoping it would miraculously fix her. It didn’t.

They drove home in Aemond’s car. She sat in the back and kept her window down, which Aemond would usually insist messed with the AC, but he stayed quiet. Once they reached the house she grabbed some painkillers and a large glass of water and retreated to her room.

She downed the tablets and a few gulps of water before she collapsed on the bed.

She’d never considered herself much of a masochist and yet she spent the next few hours replaying the previous night in her head, switching between crying silently and whispering insults to herself. They mostly consisted of idiot and stupid cunt.

He couldn’t even do her the courtesy of an outright rejection. He just left her there, dazed in the afterglow of her orgasm with the feeling of his mouth lingering on every inch of her body.

She didn’t even know why she said it. She was sure she wouldn’t have if she had been sober. But it was done now.

Idiot. Why did she have to go and lead herself on?

She fell asleep before she noticed a text from Alys asking if she wanted to order something for dinner.

On Monday morning, Alys was out the door at the usual time of 7am. She listened to the hum of her car s as it pulled out the driveway, and waited.

Aemond only goes into the office on Thursdays and Fridays. The other three days he’ll come to her room once Alys is gone and slip under the covers behind her.

He’ll run a hand under her t-shirt, gently feeling over her breasts and her stomach, before trailing his fingers between her legs to tease her until she’s wet and needy. He likes to fuck her nice and slow first thing in the morning, peppering kisses over her shoulders and whispering praises against her skin.

“So pretty… so perfect… so tight…”

She likes to feel his breath and hear his grunts and groans, especially when he starts to get restless with his own pace. He tries to hold back but his thrusts get desperate, voice breaking into a whimper as he pushes deeper and deeper.

“Good girl… you make me feel so good…”

She loves feeling his arm hold her tighter as she arches her back against him, until he can’t help but give into the hunger and the urgency. Fingers circling over her clit, hips rutting into her without mercy, both still a little delirious, lost in the heat and the need.

But her bedroom door didn’t open. There was no dip in the bed and no body pressed into her back.

Good, she thought, it was already too warm in her room. To prove that point, she dragged herself out of bed and threw open the window. Her room was at the front of the house, looking out over the fields, water fountains and rose gardens of Queens Park, where Spring was slowly turning into Summer. The blossoms were gone from the trees and the air was mild.

She convinced herself to leave the room with the promise of an iced coffee, not before she brushed her teeth, sorted out her hair and changed into a clean t-shirt.

Aemond was in the hallway, fixing his cuffs in front of the mirror mounted over the dresser. He froze when she reached the bottom of the stairs, his gaze not daring to stray from his reflection.

She took a breath, maybe to say “good morning,” or “what the fuck was Saturday night?” She hadn’t decided and she didn’t have time to.

“I’ve got a meeting.” He still wasn’t looking at her.

“I’ll be home all day,” she said. Classes had finished weeks ago, but he already knew that.

“Good,” he said, throwing his suit jacket over his arm. He stood tall as he finally turned to face her. “You won’t be looking for a lift then.”

“No.”

“In that case, see you later.” He didn’t wait for a reply as he grabbed his keys and disappeared through the front door.

She wondered if she should cry, but she couldn’t force the tears to come. She thought heartbreak was supposed to be devastating, an indescribable and all consuming pain, but she just feels vacant.

Other than that cold encounter, she hasn’t found herself alone with him since. If she walks into the room he leaves before she can say anything, and that’s if he’s in the house. Lately he’s been going into the office more often and staying out in the evenings, meeting up with Aegon and Helaena, so he says.

When she wakes on Wednesday she opens her curtains to a cloudless sky. The sun shines brightly and by 10am it’s practically sweltering. She showers, massages moisturiser into her skin and makes a mental note of which readings she needs to go over for her thesis, when an idea strikes her.

It’s a desperate move really, but she can hear Aemond on the phone downstairs and guesses he won’t be leaving anytime soon for any unscheduled meetings or visits to the office.

She puts on a grey V-neck bralette that shows off her cleavage, pulls on a pair of denim shorts that hug her hips and ass nicely and sprays a sweet, floral perfume on her wrists. Then she reaches for a pair of sunglasses, a throw, a bottle of spf and the book that’s been lying on her desk.

The gentle hum of his voice is muffled through the frosted glass door to the kitchen. She can see his silhouette pacing.

He stops mid sentence the moment she steps into the kitchen. She doesn’t look at him as she walks past him, but she wants to imagine his jaw hanging open slightly and those pretty blue eyes going wide as she sways her hips ever so slightly and slides open the glass doors that lead out to the garden.

She lays the throw out in the middle of the lawn, a good distance from the house but where she’ll be in full view from the kitchen. She takes her position and lathers her limbs in the spf until her skin glistens under the sun. It’s an expensive bottle that smells like tropical fruits, mango, papaya and coconut.

She glances over a few pages of her book but it’s hard to read through the sunglasses and the sun is making her sleepy. So she lets her arms drop by her sides, closes her eyes and crosses her legs at the ankles. She focuses on the heat, her breathing and feeling where her body meets the ground.

It’s almost reviving, but there’s still that infuriating itch in her brain, that restless feeling in her chest. She wonders if he’s looking at her.

Her eyes flutter open when she smells cigarette smoke.

She turns her head towards the house, where Aemond is leaning against the glass door, a cigarette between his fingers, taking slow, long drags and exhaling grey smoke through pouted lips. It’s hypnotic.

He’s wearing one of his nice shirts, pale blue, rolled up at the sleeves, the top few buttons undone but not enough to see the hair at the top of his chest. It’s quite a contradiction to the casual grey sweatpants hung round his hips, one he wears surprisingly well.

And he’s looking at her.

Fucking finally.

Are his eyes following the curves of her breasts through her top? Is he picturing dragging her shorts down her legs and kissing his way up her thighs? Does he wish he’d stayed longer that night? Does he wish he’d said it back?

His chin drops, another puff of smoke billowing from his mouth. He flicks the cigarette away and goes back into the house.

She turns her gaze up to the sky and smiles to herself.

On Thursday she convinces Joanna to meet her at the KLU library. Joanna is one of those people who likes to involve herself in everything and everyone. She’s the societies officer on the student union, takes three electives on top of her philosophy degree and knows most of the student body.

They take full advantage of the weather and find themselves a nice spot in the courtyard that forms the heart of the KLU campus, eating overpriced sandwiches and drinking green juices while Joanna breezes through the latest essential gossip. Breakups, hookups and the like. She seems the most interested in Alysanne Blackwood��s very public breakup with her boyfriend at a houseparty over the weekend. But her explanations are shorter than usual.

“How was the wedding?”

There it is. The wedding that’s been all over Vogue and Vanity Fair and every outlet of social media. Everyone has an opinion on the Targaryens, and anyone would kill to be allowed the slightest look into their lives.

She shrugs. “It was nice.”

“Nice? You got to go to the wedding of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen at the Red Keep and that’s all you can come up with?”

She tries not to roll her eyes. Maybe she could come up with a few better descriptions, but all of her memories revolve around someone she’d rather not think about.

“Did you meet any interesting people?”

She tells her about the dinner, seeing Jace, Luke and Joff again, and mentions in passing that she danced with Aegon and Cregan.

“As in Cregan Stark?” Joanna asks as they make their way to the library. She has all sorts of opinions of him already. He comes from old money up North and his family still owns an old castle called Winterfell. Joanna says he’s a “really lovely guy” and according to Floris Baratheon, he’s also a great kisser. “And an even better shag,” she adds.

The library is one of the oldest buildings in the city, four storeys with a beautiful Greek revival front, full of mazes of bookshelves, reading rooms and hidden corners. It’s packed, as is to be expected this close to exam season, but they find a desk by a window on the third floor, looking out over the skyline of central King’s Landing.

Her thesis is supposed to focus on the role of the Faith on Medieval politics in Westeros. Instead all she can do is stare at the empty space under her chapter titles, checking her phone every few minutes, not sure if she wants the minutes to move faster or for time to stop altogether. In two hours she manages 500 words.

Joanna looks like she’s making good progress, typing away furiously, moving her head between her laptop and her pages of notes almost skittishly, like a squirrel. If she had any sense, she’d be more like Joanna.

Suddenly Joanna leans away from her laptop, stretching her arms over her head. “There’s a Masters fair happening downstairs, I was thinking about checking it out. Have you applied anywhere?”

She only just about registers what she’s saying, and drags her eyes away from the window. “Oh, no, I should probably get on that fairly soon.”

“You’ve still got time,” Joanna says.

“Yeah,” she mumbles.

Joanna taps her sharply on the shoulder. “Hey.”

“What?”

“You seem a bit off today. Are you alright? Like, really?”

She looks down to her hands in her lap, fingers twisting over each other and her nails pressing into her skin. She swallows and whispers, “no, I don’t think so.”

She doesn’t tell her the truth, not the whole truth anyway. She quickly improvises a story about a guy she met on Tinder, keeping the details vague. They met for a few dates, it seemed like they were getting on really well, and then he ghosted her out of nowhere and she’s been down ever since.

She leaves out that it’s her mum’s boyfriend, and that they’ve been fucking for just under a year. She also leaves out those stupid words that had sent him practically running from her hotel room.

“I think it’s the combination of stress,” she says, “you know how it is, exams, thesis and then this whole situation just… isn’t exactly helping.”

Joanna frowns. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Without missing a beat she says, “I don’t know, didn’t seem worth telling anyone.”

Joanna smiles sadly, rubbing her hand over her shoulder, probably to be reassuring. “Well, whoever he is, he clearly has no taste. Any guy should be grovelling on his fucking knees to have a chance with you.”

“Oh stop it,”

“I mean it! You’re too pretty to be dating a self-centred dick and too smart to waste your time moping over one.”

She raises her eyebrows. Joanna’s advice is surprisingly profound, something she might have realised if she wasn’t the one with the problem. “How do you know he’s a self-centred dick?” She asks, raising an eyebrow.

“He’s a guy. And all guys are self-centred dicks.”

“Spoken like a true philosopher.”

“What can I say? Aristotle wishes he was as smart as me,” Joanna giggles and goes to shut down her laptop. “Lets go downstairs and grab some brochures, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

It doesn’t take them long to breeze through the Masters fair in the ground floor hall. Joanna has already accepted a place at Vale to study law. They talk briefly with someone from Sunspear, but the stall for Oldtown catches her eye.

As the name suggests, Oldtown is the oldest city in the country, an impressive blend of old cobble streets, ancient buildings and newer builds alike, where the Honeywine river flows through the city and out to the Summer Sea. The University of Oldtown tops the league tables every year, boasts the best history programme in Westeros and even has links to the Citadel Research Institute.

“Sounds ideal,” Joanna says, flicking through a brochure titled Student Life. “

She nods. It’s also the ancestral home of the Hightowers, and it’s where Aemond did his undergrad.

KLU have a stand too. Assuming her thesis and her exams go well, she’ll be guaranteed a place with a pass. She would already know her course leader and she wouldn’t have to move across the country which is starting to sound like a lot of unnecessary stress.

She listens to Joanna talk about her latest argument with her boyfriend as they head out the main entrance and into the early evening. She immediately recognises a head of black hair in the crowd of first years hanging out on the marble steps.

Cregan calls her name and waves them over to join them. Jace is there too and gives her a quick hug.

Once Joanna’s done introducing herself she goes to strike up a conversation with some of the others, giving her a quick nudge into Cregan’s arm as she goes.

He catches her as she stumbles against his arm, but they both laugh it off.

“Last minute cramming?” Cregan asks.

“What else at this time of year?” She says. “And you?”

“Not really cramming, just looking over my notes,” he says, so casually it sounds rehearsed.

“Not nervous about exams then?”

“I’ve always been good under pressure,” he says, “and if they don’t go great I’ve got two more years to make it up.”

For a moment she can’t quite believe how quickly the last three years have gone. Freshers only seems like it was a few months ago.

She glances over to Joanna. She’s raising her eyebrows and smiles as Jace mutters something in her ear.

Cregan clears his throat and slips a hand into the front pocket of his jeans. “We were going for a few drinks now if you want to join?” He says. His eyes won’t stop moving over her face.

“Jo!” She calls to her friend, and mimes drinking from a glass.

“Absolutely!” Joanna grins.

She doesn’t really get a chance to talk to Jace or any of the others because Cregan seems intent on staying by her side for the whole evening. She walks between him and Joanna as they make their way down Sisters Street to the Tudor front pub that’s especially popular with students. The interior is all black leather booths with a red tiled floor, a beautiful mahogany bar and all sorts of trophies and odd trinkets adorning the walls.

Cregan and Jace order the first round of drinks, and Cregan slots himself into the booth beside her.

She shouldn’t be impressed by it, but she likes that he asks a lot of questions. He asks her about the kind of music she listens to and what her favourite films are. Then he talks about politics and sport, two things he seems quite passionate about so she lets him ramble. She sips her gin and tonic and occasionally steals glances at Joanna, who’s getting just a little too close to a girl with red hair and a pale green blouse.

Then they reminisce about the wedding.

“It’s a shame you left before I got your number,” he says. At some point his arm found its way to the back of the booth behind her.

She holds her breath for a moment, looking up at the intense look in his grey eyes. The only reason she hadn’t stayed longer was because of Aemond.

“Is it?” She asks with a small smile. The gin had left her mouth feeling a little numb.

“I think so, yeah.”

She holds out her hand. “Give me your phone.”

He’s very compliant and hands it over instantly. She smiles up at him as she types her number into a new contact.

“There,” she says, “hope that makes up for it.”

“Only if you agree to get dinner with me sometime this week?” He says hopefully.

She can’t clench her fist because he’ll see. So she smiles again. “I’ll let you know.”

That seems like a good place to make an escape. She nods to Joanna and Cregan stands to let her out the booth. His aftershave smells clean and bright as he pulls her in for a hug. His arms are thick and muscular. Hugging him feels so secure.

He’s not as tall as Aemond. Aemond’s arms are lithe and toned and–

Not the time.

Joanna walks her to the station. One of the pros of dating a Lannister is that she lives with him and his brother in a penthouse right by the station.

“You and Cregan seemed to get on rather well,” she says, “but gods, I didn’t realise how good you are at keeping secrets.”

She doesn’t know what to say to that, so she doesn’t.

It’s sometime before 9pm when she drags herself through the front door and places her backpack at the foot of the stairs. There’s only one car in the driveway, Alys’ black Mercedes. She tries not to spend too much time thinking about where Aemond might be or when he’ll be back.

The kitchen smells amazing. Something rich and tangy simmers in a saucepan, while Alys, having ditched her work blazer but still as glamorous as ever in a black lace top and maroon dress pants, drains a generous amount of pasta over the sink. She smiles over her shoulder, but doesn’t ask why she’s home so late.

She leans over the counter and sends a quick text to Joanna: Home safe and such.

They eat in the dining room, Alys at the head of the table, as always. For the most part they sit in a comfortable quiet.

She almost leaps out of her skin when she hears the front door unlock and slam shut. Leather soles tap through the hall and stop at the doorway behind her. She looks at Aemond through the reflection in the mirror over the fireplace.

“Alright?” He mutters.

“There’s food in the kitchen,” Alys says, “and bring the bottle of red in.”

His eyes meet hers in the mirror. “Drink?”

She shakes her head.

Aemond comes back from the kitchen with the bottle in one hand and balancing two glasses in the other. He sits next to her. She can see his leg bouncing under the table.

He asks Alys about the partnership with White Worm and reminds her about the press release that needs to go out on Friday morning. This time Alys is the one making vague “hmms”.

“How was the library, love?” Alys asks suddenly.

She looks up from her plate. In the corner of her eye she sees Aemond leaning back in his chair, tapping a finger on the base of his wine glass.

“Good,” she says and takes an unsure breath. She can smell his aftershave. “Ran into Jace and some of his mates at the pub.”

Aemond’s finger stops moving.

“Oh that’s nice,” Alys says. “How is he?”

“Since Saturday? Not much different.”

Aemond’s not halfway through his wine when he stands up. “I’m going to have a shower.”

Alys looks up at him, entirely unimpressed by his announcement.

She keeps her head down as she listens to him leave the room and head upstairs.

“You’ve been very quiet recently, love,” Alys says. Her concern tends to come out sharply, like an accusation. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“You can’t lie to me, darling. I’m your mother, I can read your mind.”

She desperately hopes that isn’t true.

She shakes her head slightly. “I’m just stressed.”

Alys sighs and swirls her wine around in her glass. “Aren’t we all, darling.”

She wonders if it was the gin but her mind feels fuzzy and her eyes are closing. Once she’s finished her plate she brings it into the kitchen, says a brief “goodnight” to her mother and heads upstairs. She can already hear the shower running but the sooner she’s in her room the better.

Being in the same house as him is unbearable. She’s on edge constantly, careful of every word, every look, but still wanting, no matter how much she tells herself she needs to stop.

The door to the master bedroom is directly opposite the top of the staircase, on the corner by the bathroom. She keeps her eyes down but stops when she sees the door opening. Aemond steps out in nothing but a towel around his waist.

She keeps her eyes fixed on his face. She won’t look at the toned muscles of his arms, or the lines of his abs, or the light hair that trails below his navel. No.

He smirks, and steps back so she can walk past him.

Her eyes dart to the floor. When she moves past him she’s sure she hears him hum, but it’s faint enough to ignore. She can smell his sweat and the traces of his aftershave.

She stops in front of her bedroom door, and looks along the hall. Aemond looks back at her, chuckles to himself, and closes the bathroom door.

“Smug prick,” she hisses.

She practically tears off her jeans and her crop top, desperate to crawl between the sheets and cry herself to sleep for the third time this week.

But her heart is racing. She can still hear the hum of the shower. She knows every inch of his body well enough to picture him, water trailing over his skin and breathing in the steam.

If she walked into the bathroom right now and begged him to fuck her, would he do it?

Her phone buzzes and she doesn’t hesitate to look at it.

It’s from an unknown number: Dinner? I’m thinking Saturday?

Her thumbs hover over the screen. Joanna would tell her to go on a date with the hot, ruby-playing, politics student. Alys would probably say the same if she knew.

So on Saturday night she paints her nails red and slips on a black mini dress. She keeps her makeup simple, a little concealer, mascara, a shimmery eyeshadow and a tinted lipgloss that’s a little darker than her lips. Aside from the wedding, it’s been ages since she’s had a reason to dress up.

It’s starting to get to her though. The closer it gets to 6:30 the more anxious she feels, even though she has no reason to be nervous. She knows Cregan, and he clearly likes her. She’s determined to enjoy her night.

She grabs a black leather jacket from the wardrobe and heads downstairs, checking she’s got everything she needs. Phone. Wallet. ID. Headphones. Gum, just in case.

Aemond and Alys are in the kitchen. Alys is looking at something on her laptop while Aemond is standing over the stove, leaning on one hand against the marble countertop.

“You off?” Alys says brightly.

“Yeah.”

“Where are you going?” Aemond asks.

She was going to try not to make eye contact, but he’s hard to ignore. His eyes are wide and his brow slightly furrowed. A silent fury that sends a chill down her spine.

“I’ve got a date,” she says.

Alys looks up from her laptop. “Oh? You didn’t say it was a date. Anyone interesting?”

“His name’s Cregan, he’s a politics student.”

Aemond’s eyes drop to the floor for a moment. When he looks up the look on his face is almost endearing, eyes wide with a hint of a smile on his lips. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

Her breath catches in her throat as he comes towards her, close enough that she has to look up at him. “How chivalrous of you,” she says.

“See you later, love!” Alys calls, her nails clicking furiously against the keyboard, as Aemond follows her out of the kitchen. “Let us know if you want a lift!”

Aemond takes a pointed breath that skims over her neck as they walk through the hallway. She pulls on a pair of black boots, grabs the spare keys and reaches for the front door.

But Aemond’s hand covers the handle before she can get there. He leans down into her. The tip of his nose is so close to hers.

“Since when did you start going on dates?” He asks in a low voice that makes her feel weightless.

She glances back towards the kitchen. The frosted glass door is closed. “Since tonight,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Hmm.” His eyes move over her face, and she’s sure he lingers on her lips before his gaze slips further, over the dainty gold chain on her neck and the teasingly low neckline of her dress.

He takes another step into her and brushes a hand over her elbow. Even through the thick fabric of the jacket she can feel him.

His eyes move back to hers and he smiles. “I hope you have fun, baby.”

She almost flinches at his pet name, but before she can think to react he twists the lock and opens the door for her.

She stares at him for a moment. As much as she hates his teasing she can’t deny it excites her. “Thanks,” she huffs and goes to step out of the door.

But his hand closes around her arm and pulls her back into him. She braces herself with her hands on his chest. “What are you–”

He leans into her and places a delicate peck to her cheek. “For luck,” he says, with his lips against her skin.

She wrenches herself out of his grip, marches down the driveway and doesn’t look back.

Joanna’s philosophy only seems more apparent. Self-centred dick.

A self-centred dick she can’t stop thinking about the entire walk to the station and on the train ride into central. She hears him in every song on her playlist and looks for his face in the crowds along Conquest Street.

When she spots Cregan standing outside the restaurant, cigarette in hand, she winces at the smell. In her mind it’s something that will always belong to someone else.

Tags: @marthawrites @randomdragonfires @urmomsgirlfriend1 @aaaaaamond @boundlessfantasy @sahvlren @tinykryptonitewerewolf @arcielee @tssf-imagines @aemondsfavouritebastard @skikikikiikhhjuuh @queenofshinigamis @izzydlb @dc-marvel-girl96 @xcinnamonmalfoyx @padfooteyes @castellomargot @lost-and-founds

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