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shina913 · 2 years

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Satiated | JJK

Satiated

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem!Reader

Rating: M 🔞NSFW

Genre: established!relationship; PWP; smut; hint of fluff

Warnings: post-sex haze; OC is unable to finish; explicit sexual conversations; allusions to unprotected sex in a monogamous, established relationship; fingering; clit play; masturbation with a vibrator; nipple/breast play; dirty talk; JK is a giver

Summary: A week without Jungkook has you anxious to get him naked...but things don't work out quite as planned. Your body betrays you and you fall short. Will you finish the job yourself or let him help?

Word count: 1.5K+

A/N: This was prompted by a video clip from a podcast that I saw on social media the other day. I feel as if this scenario might hit close to home for some people and it's either never discussed openly or it just doesn't play out this way. Foreplay is so essential but there are a handful of times when you get way too excited and want to jump right into it with your partner. Anyway, all that to say that it takes a certain level of confidence, trust, and even love to be able to vocalize what you need from your partner. In turn, a good and loving partner will most definitely come through for you 😉

A/N2: This is un-beta'd so...I'm sorry for any typos 😥 Also posting this in honor of my first year of posting my writing on this site so I wanted a quick and dirty one-shot to celebrate that! 🍸

“Damn…” Jungkook croaks after he pulls out and he rolls off you.

He was breathless, chest rapidly rising and falling.

While he tried to regulate his pulse, you lay next to him, staring up at the ceiling and huffed. You were confused and annoyed.

He came but you didn’t.

It wasn't his fault, though. A minute ago, you were right there with him as fucked in and out of you. The familiar buildup from the pit of your belly and tightening of every muscle in your body, signaling that you were at the precipice of your orgasm. You told him as much when he asked you.

And then, right as the first spurts escaped him, the wind died down for you and you don’t know how or why. It’s like your orgasm just…walked out of the room. What the hell happened?

You and Jungkook normally took your sweet time when it came to foreplay. Teasing each other to no end until you were ravenous.

Tonight, he was coming back from a week-long business trip. All the while, you traded naughty selfies and voice notes when you were apart.

The morning of his flight home, you sent him a video of you with your hands down your panties.

Fuck…I can’t wait to be all over that pussy, he texted.

Minutes later, he sent you a video of himself jacking off in bed and cumming into his hand.

Save some of that for me later, you replied.

You were looking forward to him coming home. He was excited to see you and you were very, very excited to see him.

He barely got through the door and only managed to get one shoe off when you jumped him. You distantly hear his suitcase fall haphazardly to the floor when you move to the bedroom and leave a trail of clothing on the way there.

You were sopping wet once you were laid up in bed and his cock slipped in effortlessly. It was delicious the way he filled and stretched you out. He warned you that he might not be able to last long. You didn’t care and thought that you’d have a quick trigger, too.

But something got jammed up.

He turned his head towards you with that post-sex glow, which immediately dimmed when he saw the look on your face.

“What’s wrong? You okay?”

You hesitate but you were too perplexed to keep it from him. “I didn’t cum,” you confessed.

He sits up right away, brows furrowed at you. “Huh? Wait…I thought...“

“I swear, I was right there,” you immediately assured him. “And then it just…it was gone.” You were at a loss.

He leaned over you with a look of sheer determination on his face. “Well, we can’t have that. I’ll fix it right now!”

As much as you wanted to, your high was fading quickly. Even if you tried to hang onto it, it would take forever to get you worked up again.

You glanced down at his cock—he’d already gone soft. After cumming hard like that, it would also take him a while to get it back up again and your lady boner would have been long-gone. At which point, you might as well just sleep it off.

You reluctantly decline. “Hmm, no…You’ve had a long flight and you’re tired. Just go shower and I’ll finish up.” You roll over and reach into your drawer where you kept your goodies and pull out your vibrator.

You squeeze some lube on your toy, push the little power button, and it buzzes to life. Before you touch it to your clit he stops you.

He shook his head and hardened his expression. “Listen, I am not going to sit here and do nothing while you work on your nut! It doesn’t just hurt my ego but…I want us both to feel good.”

You pause the buzzing to answer him. “You did make me feel good. I really have no idea what happened. It’s like, I went from 0 to 60 and then my brain just slammed on the breaks.” You couldn’t hide your frustration with your body.

“C’mon, tell me what you want me to do. I can go down on you or…” He awaits your answer, always eager to please.

You ponder on it for a second. “Can you suck on my tits while I use this?” You gesture at the vibrator.

He smirks. “Anything you want, baby.”

You push the button again to resume the buzzing. He pulls the sheet off you to expose your naked form then laid back on his side, moving closer to you.

When the toy brushes your clit, you let out one long, drawn out moan. He then dipped his head and wrapped his mouth around a nipple.

“Oh, fuck…” Your head sunk deep into your pillow as your senses ignited.

“Want me to talk you through it?” He asks in between licking and sucking.

“Hmmmm…yes,” you breathed out while you circled the toy around your nub.

“Feel good?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah? You like when I suck on your tits,” he asks with a mouthful of breast. You look down at him and watch his cheeks hollow while he draws your flesh in.

“Yes,” you moaned. His teeth nip at the unfurled tip, sending a shiver down your spine.

He reached down to push your thighs further apart. You gasped when he slid two fingers deeply. “So wet…and tight,” he rasped in your ear.

All you could do was focus on his voice. Coaxing, urging your orgasm back to the surface.

You whined at the all-out assault from your vibrator and his mouth alternating between your breast and neck. With your climax bubbling, you turn up the setting on your toy and rub circles over your clit. His fingers burrowed, massaging the fleshy bundle of tissues within your core.

With each stroke of your vibrator on your clit, his fingers kept up their steady assault while your hips bucked against his hand. You felt everything within you tighten.

He continued to encourage and praise you. Each word pushes you closer to the brink.

You have the best tits… I could suck on them all day…

God, I love how wet you are… Look at the mess you’re making on my fingers…

You look so fucking sexy like this… Gonna cum hard for me, hm?

Finally, the knot within you snaps. At the first jolting contraction of your core, your spine arched off the mattress, and you let out an ear-piercing cry. His mouth was on yours in an instant, swallowing your moans of pleasure. His fingers stroked at the roof of your center, further intensifying your climax.

Your legs quaked and your back, the orgasm draining all of the strength from your muscles.

You come to when the buzzing stops. Jungkook tosses the toy off to the side and your eyes flutter open. You look over at him leaning up against the headboard sporting a huge grin…and raging hardon.

“Oh my god…“ You feel a pang of guilt. “J-just give me two seconds and I’ll suck you off.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he laughs.

You felt bad leaving him high and dry. “But…I can give you a hand?” You licked your lips and cock a teasing eyebrow at him. Even though your body feels like jelly, you reach out to touch his cock but he grasps your wrist gently to stop you.

“No, baby. I’m fine, really,” he says decisively. You watch him get up from the mattress and slide the sheets back to cover you up.

“Are you sure? You just gave me a mind-numbing orgasm. I feel like I need to repay the favor,” you insist.

A hearty laugh boomed from his chest. “I’m not keeping score! Besides, when did we start owing each other for sex?”

You look at him oddly, thinking he was punking you. Guys typically weren’t just content watching a woman orgasm. They’d want to get their own, too. Wasn’t it always a give-and-take deal?

Still sensing your skepticism, he marches back to you, grabs your face in his hands, and kisses you deeply.

When he pulls away, you’re left in another heady daze. “Hey…I got mine and I wanted to make sure that you got yours. Simple as that!”

He brushed your chin and gazed into your eyes to reassure you. “This shouldn’t be a tit-for-tat thing, okay?”

After a few seconds, you relent and nod softly. “Okay.”

“Good girl!” He plants another chaste kiss on your lips then gets up from the mattress again to start towards the bathroom. You lay on your side and watch his taut ass cheeks walk away from you.

You sighed dreamily. “Damn…How’d I get so lucky with you?”

He called out past his shoulder after grabbing a towel from the linen closet. “Trust me, I feel lucky that I get to help you cum like that. Shit…I’d replay that in my head over and over!”

You giggle softly once he disappears into the bathroom. Seconds later, you hear the water turn on. Even though he said not to feel guilty about it, you couldn’t help but still feel restless.

Not to mention that you couldn’t get his hardon out of your mind.

Soon, the ache built up between your thighs again. Biting down on your lower lip, you kick the sheets off and pad across the room. You were on a mission.

He looks up from underneath the cascading water to find you pulling the glass door open to step in with him. You’d take it real slow for this round…you had a lot of time to make up after all.

Crossposted on AO3 | Main Fic Masterlist

You’ve reached the end! Thank you so much for reading!

If you loved it, please comment, reblog, or send me feedback! 📩. I love hearing from readers! If you didn’t like it so much, I would still like to hear about it. Help me become a better writer! 💜

Tagging: @internetjunkdrawer @deepseavibez @itdoesntmatterwhy @yu-justme

#bts fan fiction #jungkook #jeongguk #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #bangtanbathhouse #btswritingcafe #btshoneyhive #btscarnivalnet #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jjk smut #satiated x jjk

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yeoja-dream · 8 months

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Found/Fated/Forever

Part 1

Pairing: BTS OT7 x Reader

Genre: Fantasy, eventual smut, porn with plot, slow burn, hurt/comfort

Characters: Supernatural!BTS, Vampire!Jungkook, Supernatural!Reader

Content Warning: Woman in danger, roofie mention

Word Count: 3,500

It was a miserable fucking night. Granted it had also been a miserable fucking day, The rain had come down in sheets all throughout the day and well into the night, bringing the temperature down considerably. It was certainly summer, but as your thigh-high boot clicked against the wet sidewalk, you swore you could see your breath.

I just had to fucking go out. You grumbled internally, shivering in your mini skirt and leather coat. It should have been plenty warm enough for a summer night, but even the weather seemed to be flipping you off today. Let’s just get black-out drunk, hook up with a stranger, and forget today ever happened. You hyped yourself up while rounding the corner to your favorite nightclub.

The line was sparse, on account of the rain you supposed. Not that you ever really had to wait in line for this place anyways, you knew all the bouncers and if any gave you a hard time, you’d flash a little cleavage and be on your way.

Despite the minimal line outside, indoors was as lively as any other Saturday night. The DJ tonight was someone local, you overheard, not bad you mused, moving through the crowd to an empty bar seat. Mostly trap beats, but his remixes were decent and the dance floor reflected his musical proficiency.

“Y/N” The bartender, a salt and pepper man in his 40s regarded you warmly. “What will it be tonight?”

“David.” You said back. “I thought you had a date tonight? I was expecting to see Vanessa. Sure the usual.” You slid your card forward, starting your tab.

“You drink so many cosmos we are going to have to start calling you Nebula, you know,” David said, picking up the ingredients to your drink. “Vanessa and I switched. Date bailed. She must have known you were coming in and got jealous,” He added with a wink.

“You flatter me.” You replied. “Nebula is too metal of a knick name for such a girly drink.”

“Eh,” David replied, sliding your glass toward you. “I’ve seen you, you could out-drink any man in this place. Makes me feel bad for your wallet.”

“You and I both.” You said, sipping on the pink liquid. “It’s good. Strong. Make yourself something, it’s on me.”

“And that’s why you are my favorite customer, cheers,” David replied, before sliding off to the other end of the bar, busily helping other patrons.

The bar seats here spun, a trait you always appreciated for easy people-watching. Picking up your drink and swiveling your seat around, you surveyed the crowd like you did most weekends. Mostly, it was boring. You watched them have fun, be messy, get into arguments, meet new friends, new lovers, it was fun, like watching a TV show of what your life could have looked like if things had been different. Some nights you’d spot a creep, someone slipping drugs into drinks or stalking ex-partners and you’d alert the bouncers to kick them out. Some nights you’d chat with someone silver-tongued and deep-pocketed to keep you interested, some nights that person would talk you into bed.

It was cyclical if you had to really psychoanalyze yourself. The theme: unfulfillment, dissatisfaction, and unhappiness. It was easy, much easier anyway, to find comfort in these fleeting, temporary flings, to find purpose in playing superhero and saving a drunk woman from a creep, to find community in the transactional relationships held with people like David. But maybe you were thinking too much about things again, what the hell did you know? You were there, in that nightclub, just like everyone else.

You swiveled around again, signaling to David you were ready for your next cosmo. He had it ready just as soon as you could raise your hand.

“Looks like you got something on your mind tonight. I’ll keep ‘em coming,” David said handing you your next drink.

“Thanks.” You said, taking it from him. “Don’t forget to make something for yourself!” You called after him.

“I love drinking on your dime, don’t worry about me~” He replied with a hand wave.

Before you can turn back to your self-centered musings, a zip of light darted through your periphery. Magic? It had been a minute since you had seen someone else use it, but surely you had to be mistaken right? Why would a place like this have magic?

You snapped and turned to the side, scanning the patrons carefully, but it only took a few seconds to realize who it was who had been casting. A man stood in the corner, tall with dark, masculine features, his shoulders were broad, his chest and torso the perfect V. He wore a plain, dark, fitted t-shirt that showed off large, corded arms. He was the picture of masculinity, attractive by anyone’s standards, and as you regarded him now, he was entirely silhouetted in magic. The silver, translucent aura was unmistakable. Glamour magic.

He had to be an incubus right? The only other creatures capable of glamour magic like that are the tirions, but those were exceptionally rare. You could relate to that. As you pondered the possibilities, you noticed a small, curly-haired blonde woman, undoubtedly human by the way she seemed in awe of this male. You needed to get closer, you decided slipping off your seat and pushing through the bodies until you were in earshot.

“So, why don’t you finish your drink and we can enjoy a few more at my place?” The male voice spoke.

“Well, I - I - I uh, f-f-friend I, uh…” The female voice spoke, a mix of slurred speech and nervous babbling.

Another wave of magic pulsed from him.

“I think we should get out of here, beautiful.” He insisted again.

“I think… that is… okay.” The female replied voice halted, disconnected. Stiffly and robotically you watched her put her drink on the bar top, then equally as robotically begin turn around and begin to exit.

Incubus or tirion, you would be damned if you would let them feed here. You too put your drink down on the bar top and made your way to the exiting couple.

“Hey! Girl we were looking everywhere for you!” You walked right up to the woman, placing a hand on her shoulder. You were admittedly a bit rusty, but your connection to magic was as inherent as the ability to breathe. You called forth your magic from deep in the ground, willing it to run through your body. You could see the magical charm this male held on this woman, and while willing your magic into a sword, you severed the charm.

The woman blinked up at you, dazed and confused. “The rest of us are dancing over here!” You now link arms with the woman, her considerably smaller frame putting into perspective how powerless this woman was to this male. As you begin to walk away with her, the male voice calls out from behind you.

“Hey.” The voice is stern, flat, and deep. More noticeable to you, however, is the overwhelming rush of glamor magic that washes over you. You will your magic up, shielding the smaller woman from its power.

“Hey sorry!” You turn around. “We came out as a girl's night and we wanna keep it that way! No hard feelings!” With that, you pull the woman with you and away, towards the exit.

“It’s time to go home, sweetheart. Are those your friends over there?” You ask the woman. She nods in response.

“Come on, let's say goodbye and then I’m going to walk you to a cab.” You lead the woman to her friends, who all in a drunken stupor thank you for taking care of their friend, and forget to ask why it is she needs to leave. It is probably better that way anyway.

You lead the woman out the door, up the stairs, and out into the cold rainy night. You held the umbrella for the two of you, walking in complete silence.

“The taxi rank is around the corner, but this time of night and the weather I’ll bet it's empty, so I’m just going to call ahead.” You said to no one in particular. You weren’t sure if she was really listening, but you felt better saying something.

Sure enough, when you rounded the corner, the taxi rank was completely abandoned.

“Figures,” you grumbled, watching the poor, shivering woman stand next to you while you waited, the sound of the rain hammering on your shared umbrella punctuating your silence. Wordlessly, you shed your leather jacket and place it over her shoulders while you wait, willing the magic from the ground to keep you warm. It was totally against the rules, but hey, it had already been a weird night.

“Do you remember your address?” You asked the woman. She nodded in response.

“Do you have enough money to get home?” Another nod.

“Did you drive to the club?” A shake this time.

She didn’t want to talk, obviously, and another extended silence descended upon the two of you.

The woman broke the silence this time.

“What happened to me?” She asked, voice sounding hollow, hurt, and confused.

“You were roofied.” You replied, matter-of-factly. “The man you were talking to was very bad, which is why I’m making sure you get home.”

“I’ve been roofied before. It didn’t go away in one second. I spent the whole night puking. You touched my shoulder and the fog lifted. Isn’t that crazy?” She spouted off, looking up at you for support answers.

You knew what she was looking for, and yet you couldn’t give it to her. “They’re coming up with new drugs all the time. Maybe this one clears your system crazy fast. I am really sorry this happened to you.” You replied.

“Thank you for helping me.” She replied, and as if ordained by a benevolent ruler, the taxi pulled up. You helped her into the car, wished her a good night, and saw her off before turning on a heel and marching back to that nightclub. You had a bone to pick.

-----------------------------------------------

Where the bumping music of the club before gave the area a cool, hip-hop vibe, now contributed to your fuge state fueled by rage. The male, miraculously, was stood in the same spot, tied up in conversation with another man. An accomplice perhaps, you thought. You’d figure it out as soon as you rocked this dude's shit.

Pushing passed the crowd and shoving the man he was locked in conversation with aside, in a flash you willed your magic up to protect your fist and you let loose the meanest right hook you could muster, for that woman and all the other women you were sure this scum had victimized.

Your fist collided solidly with his jaw, knocking him over and staggering him. You hit him hard enough that the bystanders around you audibly reacted. The male straightened back out, rubbing his jaw in pain. Looking down at you in what could only be described as bewilderment.

“I would say there is a special place in hell for people like you, but you would know something about that, wouldn’t you?” You spit at the male.

“So what if I do?” The male replied, voice rich and baritone. “What’s it to you?”

“There are clubs for people like you.” You replied venemously.

“And you…?” He replied, lifting an eyebrow.

“I am not here looking for prey.” You said, looked at him with a disgusting look. “Just because you can’t hack it in the supernatural clubs doesn’t mean you can just come out to the human clubs looking for easy pickings.”

“Do you condemn the wolf for breaking into the lamb pen? Or do you just understand that the wolf, too, needs to eat?”

“Ask a sheep farmer what he does to wolves in the lamb pen.”

“Is that what you are to them? The farmer? Watching over the little sheep? Or perhaps you are just a little puppy, barking at the big bad predator” He leaned in closer. “There will come a day when your pathetic little yaps won’t be enough to chase away the big bad guy, what will you do then, little puppy?”

“Get. Out.” You said through gritted teeth. “Or so help me I will put you back where you came from.” Rage, pure rage coursed through you, mixed with magic, you felt it zapping and prickling at your skin, your hair standing on edge as if the lighting was about to strike.

“Now now, no need to get so wound up.” He started pushing past you, before stopping to continue. “I was going to hurt you, for taking my dinner. But now, now I hope to meet you again very soon, little puppy.” He finished, walking out the front door, a swagger in his footsteps that made you want to blast him from behind with every bit of radiant damage you could physically muster.

“Hey.” A different male voice snapped you to the present. “You’re going to call attention to yourself. Just accept it.”

Another wave of glamor magic washed over you, a different spell though, a calming one you readily identified having used it before. You allow the stranger's magic in, the new stream slipping in, soothing your breathing, calming your heart rate, and slowing the stream of magic through your body, before exiting.

“You were about to make us all do the electric slide.” The man said with a chuckle. “Sorry, dated reference. I am kind of old.”

“Me too.” You commented, still internally reeling from the events of the last hour. “It was funny, thanks for the hand.” You turned to him, finally. The man who was keeping the incubus engaged. You were calm, but you were still warry. You regarded him more carefully now, he too was exceptionally handsome, but in a less brutalistic way than the incubus was. He was also shorter than the incubus and considerably more lithe in his frame. His baggy streetwear and half up half down hairstyle betrayed a surprisingly strong body, you were willing to bet, however. “With that being said, who the hell are you?”

“That is a complicated question with a complicated answer.” He replied. “I am sure you can relate. Shall we?” He gestured to two conveniently empty seats sitting on the corner of the bar.

“You drink cosmos, right?” He said handing you a pink cocktail. You looked at him incredulously.

“On a normal night, I don’t accept drinks that I didn’t watch David make, after all that what makes you think I’m going to accept this?”

“Oh my god, you are so right. You know what I will drink this don’t even worry about it, I’ll flag the bartender and you order whatever you want and I’ll pick it up.” He replied, pulling the drink back to him.

After a few minutes, David walked up to your end of the bar, regarding the two of you silently.

“What will it be, sir?” David asked the man.

“Whatever the lady will have.”

“Whiskey. Top Shelf.”

“Coming right up, ma’am,” David replied, pouring a glass and sliding it to you. With that, he made himself scarce.

“How do you know the incubus?” You asked the man, keeping your tone flat, disinterested in case they were buddies.

“Not at all, to be frank” He replied, sipping on his Cosmo.

“When I walked in after getting that woman home, you seemed to be engaged in lively conversation with that man.” You said, bemused. “What was it that you were discussing?”

“How we were going to hurt you.” He replied, matter-of-factly.

“And how was that?” You asked.

“Well, he was angry when you left with that woman, really angry. I had a feeling that you’d come back and I wanted you to get your revenge, so I placated him with stories of how I would help tear you limb from limb and eat your insides in front of this whole club, the usual.”

“Uh-huh.” You replied, skeptically. “And why should I believe that? Maybe the two of you are waiting to jump me as soon as I leave out that door.”

“Nah, you’d kick my ass.” He replied. “Besides, I have this.” He held up a clear, tear-drop-shaped glass pendant on a cord around his neck. Suspended in the glass were a clear liquid and a red liquid, yin and yang. “Because of this, it is impossible for me to lie.”

“Obviously you are going to have to prove it.” You replied, scoffing and sipping your whiskey.

“Easy.” He replied. “The sky is purp-” Before he could finish, red and blue light pulsed from the pendant, and the man doubled over in pain, grabbing his chest. “Pigs can fl-” and again, before the man could finish the sentence, he doubled over in pain clutching his chest.

“You could have programmed it to react that way with certain voice commands.” You replied back, still skeptical.

“Hard to convince, that’s fair enough.” He replied, shrugging. “Tell me to say something, and I will say it, scouts honor.”

“Okay…” You replied, thinking for a moment. “Tell me I’m ugly,” you said with a smirk.

“You’re ug- ak!” The same reaction as before.

“Thank you I know.” You said, flicking the hair off your shoulder. A devilish smile crept across your face as another prompt crossed your mind. “Say this one and I will believe you.”

“Anything.”

“Say I have a tiny penis.”

He looked at you incredulously, but nonetheless began “I have a tiny pe- ah! Enough please believe me this hurts!”

“Good to know~” you chuckled. “Alright George Washington, what are you doing here anyway? What are you?” You asked him.

“I am a vampire. As for what I am doing here, that question is a bit more difficult to answer.”

“Are you looking for prey? Just like that incubus?”

“What? God. No. I don’t need to look for prey thank you very much. I am very much mated.”

“Mated? But you’re hanging out in a human club?”

“Something like that.”

“Okay, start the bigger picture then if the smaller picture is hard. What is your name?”

“Jeon Jungkook. A pleasure.” He extended his hand.

“Y/N. It is steadily becoming a pleasure as well.” you shook his hand. “What brings you to this city, Jeon Jungkook?”

“I live here with my mates,” he replied. “Most of us work in the city, myself included. I sing.”

“Oh wow!” you recoiled in surprise. “What do you sing? Do you perform?”

“No, it's a little hard to be a public persona when your face is never changing, ya know? I do backup vocals and I am the voice behind a few recording artists, some big some small.” He shrugged.

“Some big?” You asked.

“I can’t really talk openly about it. I’ll tell you another time.” He added with a wink.

“Fair enough.” You replied, taking another sip of whiskey.

“I was right behind you, by the way.”

“Hm?” You replied.

“Maybe I should back up a little.” He started. “I’m here, in this human club tonight, because I was called to be. By whom or what I do not know, but I knew I needed to come in. I arrived shortly after you did, I think. You were already drinking at the bar, people-watching. I saw the magic too, and I saw what he was attempting to do to that poor woman. You and I stood up simultaneously.”

“You want a congratulations for thinking about stopping a rapist?” You scoffed at him.

“No. No, I am explaining myself poorly. I am trying to say I had your back. I wouldn’t have let him hurt you.”

“Oh. Thanks.” You said, giving him a half cheers with your glass.

“At first I thought that this is what I was called here for, to save you or to dispatch this creep, then I could fuck off home and be the hero. But then I saw how powerful you were. How readily the magic came to you, how you bent it to your will like you were folding paper. It was only then I came to understand, that I think I was called here to meet you. And I am extremely glad I was.”

You glanced at his chest and then, at the pendant hanging on his chest. The light remained dark, and when you slid your gaze up to meet his, there was an intense sincerity there that made you blush and shy away.

“I am not really sure I understand what it is exactly you are getting at.” You state looking down at the melting cubes in your whiskey.

“I think I might, but I will need you to go with me on this one.” --------------------------------------------------------------------- Hi-ya this one has been cooking in my brain for like 3 years so enjoy plz! I am just going to post parts one and two consecutively because fuck it they're finished and the Ritalin hit and so I WROTE. I'm working on Intertwined, I just had to get it straightened out from this story because of their similar themes but we good, let me cook. I will update the tags as WHAT each member of BTS and Y/N as it is revealed but for now, no spoilers eheheh. Put what you think they're going to be below!

#bts #bangtan #bts smut #bts x reader angst #bts x reader smut #bts x y/n #bts x you #bts x fem!reader #bts x reader #ot7 x reader smut #ot7 #bts ot7 #ot7 x reader #ot7 x reader smut #poly ot7 #ot7xreader #foundfatedforever

187 notes · View notes

deceptive-daydreams · 5 months

Text

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 | Ch. 14 |

Smoke Signals

Chapter Fourteen - A Merry Little Christmas

W/C: 7.5K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

Have yourself a merry little Christmas…

(Cover) Phoebe Bridgers

Warnings: mentions of bad childhood, mentions of parent’s death, issues with mental health, allusion to a suicide attempt, self harm but not, just appears to be, blood, let me know if I missed anything. In all fairness this is a heavy chapter in the beginning. Oh and also, smut 👀

A/N: this took literally forever to write…only because I couldn’t write for like months lmao. But I spent all day basically fleshing most of this all out and there’s a lot of emotion put into it and not too much editing cause I already overthought everything I wrote as I wrote it, dare I say I put my whole fuckin pussy into this chapter. Next chapter will be the final one in the series 😭

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Christmas Eve was supposed to be different this year.

A senseless daydream.

It was dad’s last kick to his gut, he knows it. Eddie finally had a good thing going for him but alas the Munson’s were cursed and he could never escape. This was some kind of final revenge for not hanging around like a lost puppy though it wasn’t even his choice to leave Hawkins in the first place. It didn’t matter, life never spared Eddie a precious moment.

So he sat there, salty tears still somehow leaking out of him despite how tired he was, despite how wrong it felt. Last week his dad was the most hated man in his life. And last week he was suddenly dead. It didn’t make sense, the devastation that consumed Eddie. All he knew was that sunlight began leaking through the blinds and dotting the floor. Birds were chirping annoyingly outside and his skin started to feel like cold cuts and despite how uncomfortable it made him, he couldn’t find it in himself to get off his ass and at least put a sweatshirt on.

He had promised you breakfast, down the road at that little diner called Reggie’s. Promised to get you the biggest stack of pancakes covered in whipped cream and all kinds of sprinkles along with the best, artery clogging bacon you would ever taste. Maybe some scrambled eggs and hashbrowns.

Whatever you wanted.

He hadn’t seen you in days, not since the recent news broke. His excuse of harboring the flu was not how he wanted to start daily phone calls with you. He knew you would then mistake the stuffiness in his voice for phlegm and not his inner sorrows burrowing their way out of him. He refused your offer to bring him homemade soup and hot tea, rejected the kindness he hadn’t deserved in the first place. Told you that he just wanted to get healthy quickly and it wouldn’t do either of you any good to both be sick. He left you in charge of the bar, much to Jett’s disdain, Eddie didn’t need you to confirm that for him he just knew.

Now just standing up seemed impossible. Shifting his position on the couch to at least relieve the pressure against his tail bone wasn’t plausible. And for what? For a man that never gave an inch when Eddie gave him miles upon miles, practically handed over his life on several occasions. Pathetic, he knew. But the pain didn’t cease and he couldn’t even find it in himself to turn his head to check the time.

This was it.

This was how you were going to come face to face with the fact that Eddie was no man. Not a real one anyway, a facade if anything. He could just picture it: you would await his knock at the door and it wouldn't come. A giddy smile would spread across your face as you thought about your plans of going sledding together–he sees it so vividly in his mind. And then you would be massively disappointed when he couldn’t deliver. The creases at your eyes when you got overly excited would cease to exist at the mere idea of him. He had it coming, he just didn’t think it would be so soon.

Eddie told you he was feeling better. It was a lie. He never had the flu. He didn’t feel better. He wanted to die. And the man responsible for it wouldn’t even give a shit had he still been alive. Now he was dead and Eddie was the one suffering.

And so his neglected stomach grumbled, his incoming stubble itched though he couldn’t find a fuck to give even in his discomfort, and the whiskey bottle ran dry far too soon. His brain had been clogged with wishes and what he could’ve done, then declarations of it never being enough, a constant tug-of-war that migraines were made of.

He never stood a chance, his DNA had always been coded like a mutant, at least that’s how it felt deep in his bones. There was always something off, he never resonated with life in general how everyone else did. A flaw in the system. And he built his entire being off of it, afterall he never had any control over the way he was perceived so what option did he have?

Several.

He thought to himself.

You could have gone to school, shown up.

Could have stayed out of detention.

Gotten arrested less.

Not get arrested at all.

Could have said no. So. Many. Times.

In all honesty he wanted to blame his old man but he couldn’t stop taking the hits for him even in death. He couldn’t stop making excuses. Any normal person would feel relief but he felt nothing but remorse. For what, he couldn’t exactly piece it together. Maybe it was a hidden desire to fix him, a glimmer of hope that he could make him turn his life around like Eddie had. It would never happen, he was well aware, but a certain childish hope clung onto him, tugging on his sleeve, begging himself for reasons.

Until familiar curls similar to his own and an aura of the gentlest kind clouded his vision. He could nearly hear her voice, smooth as butter and warm as the summer sun when he was a freckled kid. Rosy cheeks and beautiful chocolatey brown button eyes to match his.

What’s the matter darlin’?

And he just sobbed. And remembered.

Morning pancakes and the blues. Muddy clothes and bubble baths laced with melodies. Kitchen table haircuts, the softest voice humming in his ears, half inch curls littering the linoleum. Dancing in the living room. Refusing to eat his broccoli until she told him they were tiny trees. Walking hand in hand to the corner store for milk and eggs, the promise of a sucker waiting for him at the cash register widening his innocent grin. Late night cereal bowls when sleep wasn’t an option and nothing did the trick except some off brand Lucky Charms and tales of dragons and fantasy lands he wished they could run away to.

Then he remembered.

Him.

Stumbling into the kitchen on those nights more often than not, spewing nonsense. Breaking the refrigerator door as he tripped while seeking another beer. That door forever being duct taped and never properly fixed as promised. Mama coaxing dad to bed before she slipped into Eddie’s tiny twin bed for the night, most nights. Dad waking up just to shut the music off in the morning so he could sleep in. Disappearing for days.

Mama unexpectedly passing and Eddie being so devastated that he didn’t eat for days and willingly waited at the door every day for pops to get home. Only he rarely did. Wayne checking in each and every day only to be on the receiving end of a temper tantrum each time. Years and years of push back. A clueless kid defending Indiana’s worst dad in the name of seeking some kind of normalcy.

“My dad has a ton of jobs.” He would beam, bright eyes and missing teeth.

The kids would snicker. Their mocking smiles would be mistaken for a token of friendliness. And Eddie would once again be disappointed come the end of the day. Because he’d realized it wasn’t normal to crawl under fences where dad couldn’t fit, to steal expensive things from “higher class pricks” as dad deemed them. Take your kid to work day had a very different definition in his book.

So Eddie steered away from telling everyone about his dad’s work antics, opted to tell them about how he got to go to the bar with his old man every Wednesday, thinking he’d surely get praise for being considered so mature. At least that’s how dad described it. It wasn’t any better and the reactions were only worse. They called his dad a drunk. They weren’t wrong but that didn’t make him feel any less enraged. “Spawn of Satan”, they called Eddie. Because in truth that’s what his dad was, he just couldn’t comprehend it at the time. Then came the christening of his formal title, a word so small but so…derogatory with the way it was spat at him.

Freak.

Spawn of Satan sounded so much worse on paper but Freak made his insides hurt. And as he recounts the events of his life up until now, he tallies everything up. Closure in some kind of fucked up way. Childish thoughts of “he was still my dad” try to take over but are quickly replaced by images of their burning house, the records going up and flames and ash coating everything he had left, everything she had left.

Suddenly there’s broken glass scattered across the floor and warm blood trickling down his arm, not by any fault of his own, just pure rage and unknown strength annihilating the poor glass he attempted to drink water with. Heartbeat in his ear, he swallows thickly and resumes his position against the kitchen cabinet–they’re going to send me back to the asylum.

All over again, even in the afterlife, dad plays his sick jokes. Gets Eddie into trouble he never sought out–he was just getting water, it was just water and now he looks like the picture perfect case for mental instability. No one’s seen him for days and–there’s knocking at the door. He swears it’s not like last time- it can’t be like last time, he didn’t mean it. This isn’t like back in Hawkins, when he was healing and the courts were making their decisions. He thought he was a goner, decided to pull the plug to save everyone the trouble, Wayne was at work, Steve was getting him groceries, everyone else was dealing with the end of the world. They shouldn’t have to worry about me. With a bottle of prescribed pills in hand.

The knocking turning urgent, conclusions are drawn up in a scattered, tormented mind–surely they’d rip up his contract, the agreement in which he had been assured a promising life anywhere but Indiana. A life he’d always longed for anyway.

Be careful what you wish for.

That goddamn voice taunts him.

The door shakes, manhandled from the other side and he’s forced to confront the final moments before he’s permanently put away. “One slip up…” They had said. It didn’t matter if he told them it was an accident, nothing mattered if it was anyone else’s word against him. Literally anyone. As long as it appeared that he was a danger to himself, he was a danger to society. They were probably waiting for this moment: lock up the problem child and throw away the key.

Cause he was nothing if not a problem. First and foremost.

Heart beating out of his chest, breath caught in his throat, he could practically hear the sirens whether they be from an ambulance or police car or both, they were coming–

“Eddie?”

It all stopped.

“Eddie?!”

There was no accurate way to describe the sob that clawed its way out of his throat, a tortured cry. The scene before you had been pulled straight out of a horror movie: your beloved Eddie covered in blood, palms pressed into his eyes, stuttered breathing in between sobs.

Upon approaching him he attempted to scoot himself away, glass shards sinking into his hands, a gasp filling the room and you were certain you needed to find someone else to–

“Please don’t make me go back!”

You couldn’t form words.

“I-it was an accident, I-I promise.” His eyes brimmed with a fear you never could have imagined coming close to witnessing in this lifetime. “Just–I just got some water-I didn’t mean to break it, I s-swear. Please d-don’t let them take me.”

Glass crunched under your boots, a slow approach as you crouch in front of the shattered man with the saddest eyes you’d ever seen. With a shaky breath and careful movements, a silent request to assess his arm and hands is made. You’re sure your wide eyes can’t be comforting in the slightest though the shock still pulses through you.

“I’m sorry.”

“Shh.” You soothe.

Forehead pressed to his in a moment of solace, you offer a nudge, nose to nose. A wordless commitment. Softness he didn’t know he needed, tender touches of your fingertips to his wet cheek as if to promise a remedy for his aching heart, that you weren’t planning on going anywhere. You weren’t leaving him like he convinced himself you would or god forbid turn him over to the authorities like he feared.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

–

Glass has been carefully swept three times over, though you were considering a fourth for good measure. Shards had been plucked from Eddie’s poor hands, your tweezers doing the job just fine after being doused in some cheap vodka he had. Gauze from a first aid kit you thankfully had in the car had been wrapped around the largest gash in his forearm, not large enough for stitches but large enough to wince at. He sat there the whole time, staring at the ceiling, the floor, anywhere but your face.

The silence was heavy, a dense fog that hung low throughout his house. Someone had to break it but both parties were finding difficulties in voicing the reality of what just occurred. If either spoke it would make it real. Right now it was hazy, a question of “are we dreaming or did I just walk in on a suicide attempt?” hung in the air.

He said it was an accident, and you believed him. There was just so much unanswered and it’s the only thing that came to mind. Anxious fingers tapped against his own thigh, occasionally twisting his rings round and round while gnawing on his lower lip. It then dawned on you that he was the most human out of anyone you’d ever met.

He felt on a deeper level than most.

At the touch of your gentle hand against his, his surprised eyes, parted lips, and hesitance to reciprocate hint that he hadn’t anticipated you sticking around this long after you’d found him. In the standard of fight or flight, he froze. Realistically he may have been sitting on his tattered couch while you tended to his wounds, both physical and emotional whether he cares to admit or not, but mentally he checked out the second he found himself surrounded by glass and tears.

“Bambi–”

“You don’t need to say anything.”

You were trying to keep it together. His croaking voice made that hard. But in all seriousness it wasn’t fair to throw yourself a pity party in light of Eddie’s current stability. And you’d reject the idea of throwing him a pity party, wouldn’t even touch the idea, but you would offer him all the empathy your soul had collected in a lifetime. Even not knowing the culprit of his now dried up tears and stinging hands, you’d go to war for him. Maybe that was dare you even think it, love. But that’s a crisis for another time.

“Dad died.”

Somehow the silence became even greater, a gigantic void of confusing thoughts and complicated quick conclusions. Conclusions you backtracked on immediately. It wasn’t your decision to declare how he should feel about a man who in your eyes and through his words put him through hell no matter how strong your sense of justice grew.

“Oh, Eddie, I’m so–” A soft beginning to a sympathetic apology short lived.

“It’s fucked.” His voice cracked, stoic face crumbling no matter how hard he tried to rebuild the tough exterior. “I shouldn’t–” There’s a pause, an intake of shaky breath. “I shouldn’t feel bad.”

“You’re allowed to.”

“No, no he ruined fucking–everything.”

“And you’re still allowed to mourn. Even for as shitty of a person as he was, you were still his son and that meant something to you.”

You wished you could erase the flash of pain that glazed over his eyes; something that tells you he knew every word you spoke to be true but couldn’t quite bring himself to be at peace with it yet. Dust collected on the coffee table in his eternity of reflection, a melancholy aura blanketing the dark cabin as wind whistled through the chimney like spirits demanding attention.

“How’d you know?” He finally asked, timid.

“Hm?”

“I left everyone hanging, they all think I’m out with the flu, how did you pick the exact moment I…”

“Needed someone?”

Eddie nodded, hesitantly, like those weren’t the exact words he would pick himself but they seemed to convey what was necessary.

“Wayne called me.” You sigh. “Said he got my number from Steve. Everyone wanted to jump on the first plane over y’know?” At this a trace of a fraction of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth but he did his best to contain it. “But it’s Christmas, flights are booked, and even then there’s a storm coming in. Wayne said he couldn’t get a hold of you.”

“So you knew?”

“No.” You assure, taking care to relax your features. “Just sounded really worried, didn’t want to air everything out. He wanted me to check in. I guess he has some kind of godly intuition.” You chuckle.

Eddie retracts his hand, and you know you’ve lost him to his inner battle again. You can only imagine the bloodshed happening within, after all, you were no stranger to deconstructing your own self worth brick by brick. The traumas he had been faced with were not anything therapy could simply remove like a tumor. There were no treatments afterward to ensure everything would get better. You knew this first hand, that you could try and try to get to the root but there was never any way to truly remove it to keep it from ever festering again. It would appear, it would be when you least expected, at your worst, and it would look you in the eye and test you.

“I’ll be fine.”

Famous last words. When the host convinces themselves but could never actually believe it to be true in their lifetime.

“But right now you’re not.”

Sabotage. In his eyes.

“But I will be. Don’t let me ruin your holiday just because–”

Excuses. Deterring from the targeted enemy: grief, in the name of saving others the trouble. A tactic you’d perfected in your years of people pleasing and feeding your tendencies to deflect your sorrows with the intent to appear invisible and self destruct.

“Stop it.” You demand.

“No, Bambi. Go to Donnie’s, I’m sure they’ll understand you coming early–”

“Stop.”

Rational thoughts were shoved into a neat little box somewhere else in his mind and you only hoped you could aid in retrieving it before he threw away the key. Before he decided not even he was worthy of hearing them from himself. And as he crossed his arms, a stubborn gesture, you braced for impact against his defenses. His cruel inner monologue and haunted house of a brain.

Big eyes adorned with every brown hue under the sun dissipated into pure darkness. Cold and black, lacking any of the warmth you’d previously basked in. He was lost in an underworld he’d been promised to since birth.

“Would you listen to me?!” Eddie’s jaw clenched in utter frustration and you swear a bead of sweat trickles into his eyebrow. “I’m not–I don’t wanna be the guy to drag you down. I’m not gonna be that guy, I won’t do it. My shit is my shit.”

You weren’t going to become complicit in the reality he’d settled for, the reality in which he felt he deserved scraps and just enough attention to deter himself from going insane.

“And I’m not gonna be the one to leave you while you’re hurting.” Finally catching his avoidant eye contact, you offer his forearm a squeeze. A plea. “Throw me out in the snow, I don’t care but I’m still gonna sit on your porch until you let me in. I don’t care what holiday it is.”

“Go.”

You try not to take it personal. It’s not personal.

“Fine.”

The last thing he hears is a slam of the door, refusing to even glance at where you previously sat adjacent to him. The room turned colder, more vacant. Even your energy had left with you, none spared for him of course, because why would he be spared anything from your healthy heart? His was black and blue, barely pumping, and he’d be damned if he was going to let you perform CPR on what he considered an already lost cause.

Do not resuscitate.

As quickly as he’d accepted the death of a budding relationship, the door swung open with aggression to interrupt his mourning, smacking the wall and no doubt breaking through some drywall. The least of his problems as he watched your determination in setting some stacked boxes on his kitchen counter before exiting again, this time leaving the door wide open.

It was eerie, the way your second exit was so open ended. Snow flurries entered and gusts of wind toyed with his curls, his cheeks already hurting a tad with the coldness. Eddie wasn’t sure what to make of it, you’d dropped off a box of what appeared to be Christmas decorations and what? Stormed off? Somehow that hurt even more than the first time, though he’d anticipated the day you would figure out how fucked up he was and retreat. He could prepare all he wanted but nothing stung more than the actual—

In you came, a box of ornaments under one arm and a small Christmas tree under the other. And you got to work, setting up the three foot tree right on his coffee table, plugging it in to the nearest outlet and initiating a soft glow of white lights, instantly engulfing the room in a newfound safeness. The tree needed fluffed and appeared to have bed head, though it still served its cheerful purpose regardless.

Eddie sat with his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, on the edge of the couch, eyes shut. An uphill battle.

“Bambi, what did I tell you–”

“You told me to go.” You nod confidently, a frown betraying you, pulling at the corners of your mouth. “And I did. You didn’t say how long or—or where to go. But I gave you time to cool off and now you’re gonna either sit and pretend Christmas isn’t a thing or you’re gonna watch the stupid little clay people on TV while I cook dinner and bake. Either one is good with me but I’m gonna be here whether you like it or not and—“

Before you can look up amidst your rambling, a ringed finger hooks itself in one of your belt loops, tugging you into a warm chest.

There he is.

Warmth restored in his irises and a semblance of a smirk threatened his lips. Pale skin rosy in all the right places and endearing eyelashes framing his shy gaze down at you. Your boy.

Lips grazed lips, noses nudged into each other, and it all just…made sense. Bambi and Eddie. There is not one without the other, not anymore. Not since you sauntered into his life, demanded a job, puked on him, made him go absolutely insane—

“I love you.”

It just fell from his tongue. A promise.

“I-are—are you s—“

“Am I serious? Is that what you’re gonna ask?” He nearly mocks your mouthful of syllables.

You nod, gulping. Not because you’re afraid, no, never. You’d just never seen such assurance in a single man.

“Bambi…” He tuts. “You don’t see how bad I’ve got it for you?”

All you can manage is to dumbly bat your eyelashes up at him, mouth hung open like a fish and fists clutching the front of his shirt unknowingly, though he doesn’t mind in the slightest if you stretch out his collar.

“Bad.” He reiterates. “So bad, that even if you don’t feel the same, even if you only like me out of pity—“

“I don’t—“

“I’m not finished.” Your attempted interruption has him thumbing at your bottom lip. “Even if you only like me out of pity, I’ll take it. And I’ll run with it. Far. Because I’m pathetic—“

“You are not.”

“I’m a pathetic man. Who is deeply in love with you, Bambi.”

“Stop saying you’re pathetic.” You challenge quietly, a delicate hand tracing the stubble of his jaw.

“Oh, but I am.” He breathes, leaving no room for argument when he presses his lips against yours as if it were his last chance.

Did he believe it was his last chance?

And without thinking, tongues collided, teeth clashed, he had backed you into the wall and there was no telling how you found yourself palming him over rough denim, a whine escaping his throat before you’d barely touched him.

A pathetic whine dare you say.

“Sorry, sorry.” You gasp, string of saliva connecting you like the invisible string you believed tied you to him all along.

“Don’t—ow! Jesus fuck.” Eddie winced, shaking his hand in the air after attempting to cup your blushing cheek. “Forgot I had fucking…glass in my hand earlier.”

You giggle, a saccharine sound, a melody in his ears that he yearned to make more of. Embarrassment traces your features, brows pulled into a worrisome look while you hold your hands close against your chest, afraid of further touch much to his dismay.

“Can you…can you do that again?” He whispers. Terrified of the consequences but brave enough to face the rejection.

Nodding, your slow hand reaches for his cheek, thumb grazing over it before trailing down his neck. His breath hitches, your hand traveling lower and lower, over his chest and down his stomach, exploring all that you’ve so desired only in your wildest wet dreams.

Lifting the hem of his shirt ever so slightly, just enough to let your fingers graze his soft skin, your main goal is to tug at that delicious happy trail. And when you do, he can’t admit to you that he nearly cums in his jeans but you’re certain you’re on the same page when you see his eyes roll back into his skull.

He can’t control himself when he ruts into you the second your palm meets him once again, beautiful, breathy sighs escaping his pouty, plump lips.

“Like that, baby?” You ask, trailing hot kisses down his throat.

“Please.” A whisper that tells you everything. “I-I never—no one’s ever—“ He tries to warn you.

“What?” You encourage, tongue tracing his earlobe. “No one’s ever taken care of you, huh?”

“Just my hand.” Eddie jokes, voice strained.

Guiding him to sit back on the couch, it protests beneath the weight of you both as you crawl into his lap. Careful fingers toy with the curls at the nape of his neck, patient lips hovering over his. Doe eyes look up at you, half in admiration, half in hesitation.

“We can stop.” You assure him, sweet kisses pressed to each corner of his lips.

“No, no.” His voice shakes, chest heaving. “I just—I don’t know exactly…what I’m doing.”

There’s an undertone of humiliation, the opposite effect you wanted to have on him. But you were confident that you could make him feel comfortable. Feel sexy and wanted.

“Let me do the work.” You whisper against his lips, slowly rolling your hips into him. “Let me take care of you.”

He nods, frantically moving to undo his zipper, only to be met with your delicate hands wrapping around his knuckles. You’re so patient with him, so gentle, so unlike what he’s ever been faced with.

“I said, let me take care of you.”

Feather light kisses pressed to his knuckles, you continue rotating your hips against his, feeling his bulge in between your legs, the friction tightening the knot within you. His eyebrows knit together, head falling back against the couch’s when you graze your fingertips just below his shirt again.

Nails gently drag down his torso, eliciting the loudest moan you’ve pulled from him so far. His injured hands only allow him to take their place in your belt loops again, assisting in setting the pace as you grind against him.

“Eddie.” You whimper.

“M’ gonna cum.” He halts your movements, only letting you hover above what was about to be sweet euphoria. “Wanna be inside of you.”

You can only gaze at him with the utmost love, entranced by his flushed appearance and his damp curls framing his face.

“Please, baby. Please, I’ve got condoms—“

You have to stop his babbling by shoving your tongue in his mouth, nodding against him with a grin.

“You bought condoms? Boy, are you prepared—“

A playful pillow is tossed into your face, a deep groan coming from your boy.

“Yes, I’m cautious, baby, please if you don’t sit on my dick right now, if I have to go one more minute not knowing what it’s like…”

“Shhh, okay, okay!!” You squeal when he attempts to get up only to fail with you pushing back. You knew damn well he was strong enough to fling you off of his lap should he choose, which only made your underwear more of a mess.

“You wanna go to the bedroom?” You tease, nuzzling into his cheek.

Without a second of hesitation, he launches you both off of the couch, palms against your ass only making you wonder how much his hands must hurt and how much adrenaline he must have not to care. Playfully, Eddie tosses you onto his bed, a pile of unkempt sheets that only seemed that much more comfortable than your own bed. You could die happily in the smell that engulfed you. Purely Eddie. Woodsy and minty. A tad smoky. And some hints of apple.

Just when you think he’s about to jump your bones, in every literal sense, you open your eyes to find him carefully adjusting the needle of his record player in the corner of the room. And then it plays. A rendition of Can’t Help Falling in Love. A folkier version, a woman singing with a twang to her voice.

“Well alright, cowboy.” You joke, an over seductive brow raising at him.

“Shut up.” He grins, crossing his arms to take his shirt off and toss it behind him.

“C’mere.” You reach over, tugging at his belt until he hovers over you. “Wanna see you.”

“You are seeing me, been here the whole time.”

Quickly, he gathers what you mean as you reverse positions, pushing him back on the bed to trail your lips along his stomach. Perfectly pretty lips follow along the scars he’d been left with years ago. The rough texture doesn’t deter you, doesn’t scare you off like he imagined. While your lips explore his scarred side, your hand delicately traces the dragon tattooed along his ribs on the opposite side. Inked skin that arose with goosebumps after each touch.

As if he hadn’t already died and gone to heaven, you stop your torment on his body to discard your own shirt, leaving you in only your bra before him. Careful to grab his hand, you drag his fingers down your chest, in between the valley of your breasts, down, down, down until you let him dip into your pants. Beneath your damp panties, collecting slick before he catches on your clit, a moan falling so desperately from your lips.

“F-feel what you do to me?”

It aches.

His finger sits pressed against your throbbing clit, teasing in a way he has no idea about yet. But he will and you’re not quite ready to relinquish that power to him…yet.

You can’t handle the confines of clothing any longer, releasing your breasts as you unhook your bra and toss it to the side. His eyes grow, lips parted in awe. And when you go to shimmy your jeans off, the friction against his hand pulls a mewl from you, something so pretty and real.

You’re completely bare, prey for him to claim although he doesn’t, he lets you have control. And then you remove his hand, only to drag yourself over his denim covered thigh, slick coating the material without much effort.

Catching his eyes, you watch as he brings his finger up to his lips, tongue wrapping around the digit with a moan of approval. That’s when you decided you couldn’t drag it on any longer.

His belt buckle clinked against itself as you worked to yank his jeans down, practically drooling for his cock, drunk on the mere idea of even seeing it. Plaid boxers ignored, you pay attention to the way it slaps against his stomach, already leaking and red. Painfully aroused.

He barely survives when you decide to lower yourself and lick a long stripe up the underside, twitching against your tongue.

“B-baby, please.” While grinding into nothing, poor boy. “Wanna cum, wanna cum so bad.”

He’s been taunted enough, breaking a sweat as he lays there, fisting the sheets in his hands. You’ve nearly brought him to tears and you’ve barely touched him.

Leaving open mouthed kisses along his reddening chest, you finally offer some relief, ripping open a condom he’d somehow grasped in his hand the entire time, rolling it onto him, and sinking down, swallowing him into your warmth. Eddie makes the prettiest sounds, small almost hiccups and gasps. Slowly, you work your hips against him, clit rolling just right against his pubic hair.

He’s big, stretches you out and hits just the right spot. Hips stuttering, he places his hands on your waist, cut hands be damned. Eddie’s close, has been this entire time, but he can’t contain himself the second you lick up a bead of sweat from his chest to his collarbone. The site is simply too pornoraphic for his inexperienced dick, hot cum filling the condom. The moan he lets out as he finishes only encourages you, gets you going faster in the limited time you now have before he softens.

Automatically you reach down to play with your clit, knowing it’ll push you over the edge though he realizes and beats you to it, a rough finger circling you in a pleasant rhythm. Overstimulated whines fall from him but he doesn’t quit giving you what you need, what you so desperately desire.

Then all at once, pleasure crashes down around you, pulsing around him, leaving you twitching and panting. The record stopped playing however long ago, the silence pulling you back into the realm of Eddie’s bedroom.

Nothing needs to be said, words aren’t on your minds. Excuses for what just occurred are nonexistent because if you’re being honest, it was sewn into the timeline no matter what. Forever embedded into the universe in every lifetime. Heavy breaths carried a symphony during the cool down, sweaty chests pressed together, sticky and salty.

Absentmindedly your foot grazed against his hairy shin, fingers dancing along his chest and arm. His bicep was toned, something you were never able to appreciate up close before but would now take all the time you wanted. You wanted to memorize every detail of his body, every freckle, hair, and birthmark. All of him.

His lazy hand let his fingers trail up and down your spine, writing letters unknown to you but etched into his brain for as long as he knew you. He held a new appreciation for intimacy, something he sourly wrote off early on but now would cherish deeply.

Girls never liked him but if he could go back in time and show younger Eddie the one girl who would ever matter to him, well he imagines younger Eddie would still be a naive dipshit about it but he could try nonetheless. Supposes he would hit him with a “it gets better, kid” and all that sappy shit. Something like “you’re gonna marry this girl”. That would be okay to jump the gun on, right?

–

Cinnamon and chocolatey aromas couldn’t completely wash away the somber haze although it was fairly close. Post sex air somewhat helped as well, though you weren’t banking on it, it wasn’t a solution, more like a deterrent that hadn’t been planned on either part.

The little plastic tree on the coffee table decorated with years old ornaments wasn’t going to heal the bruising on an ever healing heart. Christmas classics played on the TV but you knew Rudolph wasn’t going to erase a lifetime's worth of childhood trauma.

It could help though. And that’s all that mattered. If watching Christmas classics only aided in healing a millionth of the wounds, then it was worth doing. If decorating his once dark and depressing house with twinkling lights and garland only brought out a smidge of the inner child that needed help healing, then it was worth it.

While Eddie slept in, you played Santa even if just with one gift, leaving it next to the coffee table, too large to fit under the small tree. Though it didn’t start out perfect, Christmas was starting to look very familiar. Baked goods sat out on top of the stove, cinnamon rolls, croissants, the works. Eddie’s shitty little kitchen radio played Christmas tunes which you found yourself humming along to.

You’d thrown together some maple bacon, drizzling actual maple syrup on the strips in hopes that they’d candy in the oven, which they did. Hash browns sat in the skillet, slightly burned but at least there was ketchup in the fridge to cover up the burnt taste. Snow blanketed the streets outside, snowing you in although you didn’t mind one bit.

You’d called Donnie, heard the commotion over the line at her house, family members causing a ruckus in the background as she made pancakes. While you were supposed to be with everyone this morning, she assured you all was well and you could hear the smirk in her voice.

Emerging from his room, Eddie’s bed head is the first thing you greet. Curls sticking out every which way, bangs defying gravity. Lines ran down his face, imprints from the sheets and his boxers hung low on his hips. A dream.

“Merry Christmas to you too.” You giggle at the way he squints in the early morning sunlight peeking through the window.

Stretching his arms over his head, you’re forced to witness the way every muscle flexes, drool nearly falling from the corner of your mouth. It doesn’t go unnoticed but he decides it can be addressed later.

“Merry Christmas, did you get me some fucking curtains so I can actually see?” He laughs, voice husky with sleep.

“No but I can do you one better—“

“I was joking Bambi, I wasn’t actually expecting any—“

“Next to the table.”

Your grin makes him want to run directly to you and spin you around, kiss you a few dozen times, and never leave this bubble you two have created. Instead he hesitantly steps toward the previously mentioned gift, a large gift at that, wrapped thoughtfully in reindeer paper and complete with a large red bow. He felt like an asshole.

“I—no I can’t—“

“Open it.”

Eddie just stared.

“Eddie, it’s Christmas, first thing you do is open gifts!” You smile, approaching behind him.

Then he disappeared back into his room, the sound of him rummaging the only thing letting you know he hasn’t retreated just to hide from you. When he walks back out, he’s hiding something behind his back, a nervous smile tugging at his face.

“I swear—I was going to wrap it, I just—I don’t have an excuse. I just didn’t. I’m sorry.” His large brown eyes plead with you, begging for forgiveness that he didn’t need to beg for in the first place.

As if defeated, he hands you a stack of records, several that probably cost a good paycheck. And you can tell he feels it’s not even enough with the way he avoids your gaze.

“Um, it’s probably stupid, it’s just, they’re records that made me think of you. I dunno, it’s dumb, music is just—“

“I love you.” You interrupt.

Without another word you grab the records from him to momentarily set them on the table. Before he knows it you're smashing your lips against his, passion being poured into every breath he takes against you. Your hands cup his cheeks, still slightly stubbly but cute. He wraps his large hands around your wrists, hissing at the slight sting but continuing.

“You’re not just saying that—“

“I. Love. You.” You enunciate each word with a peck. “Point blank. No exceptions. You’re stuck with me old man.”

“Old man? We’re like the same age—“

You’ll never forget the amusement on his face but what attracts your attention next are the records. A huge stack of them. All genres. Some Elvis, ones that hadn’t made it in your collection yet, a few that seemed more his taste, metal. It was a universal language and it was his preferred way of feeling. That much you could gather.

“Um, yeah, if you don’t like them I can just…”

“Don’t like them?” You scoff. “I love them.”

You hold them close to your chest, as if they were books and you were in high school. You suppose you could be what with the way butterflies erupted in your stomach. He made you feel like you were in high school, gave you a sense of youth that had been skipped over previously.

And he was blushing.

“Well, uh, I just thought you know…music does a lot for me. I picked some out that I knew you’d like. Also put some that I like in there, I dunno why, you don’t have to listen to them.”

“Oh, we are listening to them. Right after you open your gift.”

More blushing.

Eddie takes a few glances at the gift, as if it were there to test him. Like Pandora’s box or something. Then he crouches down beside it, hesitantly reaching out to peel back the paper. A giddy grin rests on your face, records still clutched in your hold. His face says it all once he’s torn through enough paper. It’s a guitar case, that much he can tell, eyes nearly popping out of his head. Then he opens the case, revealing a cherry red electric something that you couldn’t memorize the name of but all you knew was that he had his eyes on it for months before you even entered the picture. At least that’s what the guy at the thrift shop said.

“No fucking way.” He smiles, half laughs. Then repeats himself. Over and over.

“Do you like it?”

Instead of receiving verbal confirmation, you’re nearly tackled, strong arms wrapping around you and swinging you around. Laughter erupts from deep within you, Eddie setting you down just to kiss you deeply and with so much care you figure you’ll faint.

“I love it, I love you.”

Later that morning, frosting coats his lips then transfers to yours in a quick kiss across his tiny dining table. The bacon is devoured, mostly on his account, and those claymation Christmas classics elicit laughter like no other. Deep belly laughs from the man whose legs you sit in between. His shirt rests comfortably on your torso.

He calls Wayne, puts it on speaker, and effortless banter occurs between you three. Wayne tells his boy to behave, wishes him a Merry Christmas, apologizes that times have been so shitty and that his flight had been canceled. Thanks you for being there to ground his boy, tells you how much Eddie’s friends have gone on and on about you two, that he can’t wait to meet you.

Then you call up your family back home, more than likely all crammed in the same house, doing puzzles, arguing over stupid things, throwing wrapping paper everywhere. You miss it. But you wouldn’t trade your place right now for anything. Eddie timidly and adorably chimes in, says hi. Makes small talk with mom and grandma. Grandma begs him to take a look at her station wagon when he makes his way over with you for a visit some day. No question about it, he’s going and that’s final, according to her. He doesn’t seem to mind though, a shy smile pulling at his lips.

Lastly you call up the gang. Nancy answers, says everyone’s at their house as usual. Shouting between Dustin, Steve, and Mike is heard in the background. Something about a broken sled. Robin takes the call hostage, telling you both about the juicy gossip amongst the group.

“And then Max—you haven’t met Max yet, Bambi, but Max left Lucas a—shit you haven’t met Lucas yet either. This would all make so much more sense then.”

There’s talk of a summer trip, something fun everyone can join in on. Kind of like summer camp except Nancy would of course be the ring leader by default. She would more than likely assign the adults as camp counselors unofficially. Eddie’s face lights up, tells her about the perfect campsite not far from his house. Beautiful in the summertime. Then looks at you, shares a dimpled grin and runs his thumb over your knee.

Loved ones called and bellies full, Eddie plays around with his new guitar, and softly in the background, Muddy Waters plays. One of the records he’d gifted you.

~end~

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tags - @gravedigginbbydoll @ohauggieo @spicysix @lunatictardis @ali-r3n @batkin028 @mrsjellymunson @witchwolflea @emma77645 @emxxblog @eddiesxangel @angietherose @lottie-90 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @pullingattheroots @avalon-wolf @vintagehellfire @cryingglightningg @foreveranexpatsposts @winchester-angel @mmunson86 @witchwolflea @kurdtbean @micheledawn1975 @tlclick73 @erinekc @hazydespair @whenshelanded @corrodedcoffincumslut @ms1oftheboys @lma1986 @uglypastels @aysheashea @dashingdeb16

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #smoke signals #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie Munson series #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fic

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isa-beenme · 1 year

Note

For the Acotar Bingo could you do Pregnancy with Azriel?

You thought you were going to be free from me? NEVER MUAHAHAHAHA I promised to do all of the requests and I WILL

See? I'm not capable to do a one-shot without giving their whole story before. Not that any of you mind I guess 😎😎

I don't know if it's something you like but hey! Let's give this poor author a try, alright?

Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this 🥰🥰

Never Knew I Needed

You always knew Azriel would be the greatest male that ever got into your life. From the moment you saw those eyes looking at you from the other side of the room until the scene going on in front of you, you decided that this male would be forever cursed with your presence in his life. You doubted he would mind tho.

It all started when your friend got you an extra invitation to the High Lord's starfall party in one second she was guiding you through the food table and in the other she found another friend of hers and simply disappeared. Easy like that you stayed a good part of the night eating every single different appetizer you could find. This kept going for a long time until he saw you looking like a fish out of the water and smiled at you from across the room.

And, oh my, wasn't he ravishing? The most beautiful male you ever encountered in your life. And yes, you were counting those funny-looking shadows that kept flying around him as part of his charm.

You didn't smile back through, too shocked with his looks to make your brain work properly. He raised an eyebrow and made a wave with his hand, signalizing for you to approach. Not that you did, your first reaction was to put another deliciously fried cheese thing inside your mouth and look around to search for who he was talking to. It couldn't possibly be you… right?

As you were ready to take another cheese ball a shadow appeared in front of the bowl, after circling your wrist and tugging the sleeve of your dress you finally looked back at the male, he was definitely trying to contain a smile that threatened to form in his mouth. Damn it, you wanted to see that full-mouth laugh he was trying to hold back.

That's when you finally realized he was waving at you. Oh, gods, everything made sense now, he was one of the High Lord's men and he discovered you were nothing but a mere citizen and that you were not part of the High High Fae, but a Low High Fae. By the Mother, you could just jump out of the building and hope for a quick death if he was going to take you to the dungeon and torture you. Could you possibly give away your friend for sneaking you there? You decided that no, however the torture method you were going to face you would never EVER give away your friend. Even if she deserved it for abandoning you there.

You quickly popped another ball into your mouth before following the shadows that looked so happy to guide you through the crowd. When you made it to the male you were already finished chewing that delicious food, hoping it wasn't the last proper food you were going to taste before being only fed with old bread and dirty water for the next few days.

- Oh well, hello there - He said, his voice causing reactions in your body that you didn't think were possible.

- Hm, hi? I guess - To say you were scared was ridiculous, you were ready to pretend to have a heart attack and get away from there - Look, I'm sorry if I'm not on my best behavior. I'm just a little nervous that my friend disappeared from my view and she was kind of my guide here, so, yeah, I'm sorry that I'm eating the whole buffet. But you need to understand, it's my first time here, and, I kinda figured out you already know that I'm not part of a rich family or even deserve to be here, I mean, my parents are bakers! How could I possibly get an invitation, right? That's what you were going to ask! So, this friend that I was talking about, Stella, she got me an invitation, it was supposed to be her sister but she got sick last week and told me to come to her place. Yes, I know, fake identity is a crime, but hey, having fun for one night is not! I swear I'm not going to do this ever again, if, and only if, you promise to not take me to the dungeons to only feed me bread and let the rats ruin this beautiful dress, because, you know, this is not even mine! I borrowed it from Stella! Please mister scary and strangely handsome winged muscular attractive male, don't kill me! I swear I'm usually a good person, I had a good education too, you know? I don't know what happened to me tonight, but I promised I'll be better from now on!

You could only watch as his face morphed from a shocked expression to the most amused one. The laugh he seemed to be holding now made music to your ears, and you wondered if you actually had jumped out of the mountain and were now in that heaven with milk honey or something like that people always talked about.

- What? - He laughed even harder as you tried to catch your breath.

- You are not one of the High Lord's men?

- Well, that I am - He said as the laughs slowly turned into small giggles.

- But you are not going to arrest me? - His eyes sparkled as he took you in, his smile now permanent on his face.

- Why would I do that to such a beautiful female? - You felt your face heat up at his question, mischief covering his expression as he realized the effect he had on you.

- You called me here for what, then? - One of his shadows slowly made its way to your arm, resting on your shoulder as if trying to warm itself.

- Can't a male try his luck with a pretty girl at his brother's party? It's Starfall, after all, I was kinda hoping you could give me the gift of your night - That made you dumbfounded, you weren't going to lie to yourself.

- You are quite shameless, huh? - His eyes traveled through every part of you before stopping at your face again.

- I'm not the one giving away my best friend Stella for inviting me to a party - Your eyes surely were popping out of your head as you realized what you said only minutes ago - But I promise I won't tell Rhysand if you give me the pleasure of your company for this night, my lady - He offered you his hand, a shining stone glowing in the back of it - And maybe I can personally invite you for the next Starfall and you won't have to commit a crime again.

You gave him your hand as you felt a smile appear on your mouth, making his expression light up from the simple view of your happiness.

That was basically how, thirty years later, you were now caressing the shadowsinger's hair as he sang for the little baby inside your belly, making yours and his heart calm as the smooth voice of your husband filled the place around you and he finished the song and kissed you belly one more time before pushing himself up until he met your lips with his.

- What that big mind of yours was thinking, hm? - He knew you too well, thirty years of sharing your lives and you learned that you could never hide anything from him.

- Just remembering the day we met - He slightly chuckled before wrapping you in his arms, keeping a hand on your stomach to make sure his future son would stay calm and finally let his mother sleep - Weird to think I was hoping to not get arrested and ended up caged to you. Now I'm carrying your child and you sing to him when he kicks too much while I admire that pretty face of yours and imagine how in this universe I got you to fall in love with me.

- You never asked, actually - At your confused look he kissed lips quickly before explaining - Why I fell in love with you. I know that you took your time but I knew that you would be my wife the moment you begged me to not let the rats eat Stella's dress in the dungeon. You're the best thing I never knew I needed, even if I always searched for.

- You're the best thing I never knew I needed too, Az. Thank you for loving me, for giving me the life I have right now - You joined your hand with his on top of your belly, feeling your son kick lightly as if to say he agreed with you - I love you more than life itself.

- I should be the one thanking you. You changed my life for best and showed me so many different ways of living - He kissed you, deeply now, taking his time with you, tasting all the love you had to give, and answering with the same amount - I love you more than life itself.

#azriel × reader #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel/reader #spotify #azriel x reader #azriel x female!reader #acotar

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primalmagic · 5 months

Text

small sacrifices (you are my life)

five times raine sacrifices something for eda, and one time she gives it right back.

OR raeda through the ages.

—

Dating someone you've known for literally forever is an odd experience. It's fucking awesome, that's for sure, but it's odd. Like, when Eda remembers that, oh, she doesn't have to panic holding Raine's hand anymore.

She still does panic- but for a completely different reason. And that said reason is a thousand times more favorable than before.

It's a Monday, which means one of two things. One, she has to go to school. Two, she gets to see Raine. She thanks the Titans for two- it makes her absolute hatred for Hexside so much more bearable.

Eda crashes into her Locker, hair all over the place and sunken bags underneath her amber eyes.

"Woah- hey there, soldier," A familiar voice practically half-sings next to her.

"What do you want, bitch?" She grumbles.

"Hey!" Raine squawks indignantly, "That is no way to speak to your partner!" They flick Eda on the shoulder, and then frown, "You alright, though?"

"I had to wake up. Does it look like I'm alright?"

Eda loves Raine, that's a pretty well-known fact. But what she doesn't love is the fact that Raine is definitely a morning person, and it sucks for her. Like, seriously, how can one be this happy on a Monday morning?

Raine laughs, all traces of worry gone. "Good to see you too, buddy," They snort, "Hold on, it looks like a ratworm built a nest in your hair. Let me get a comb."

They shuffle through their bag before bringing out an orange, wide-toothed comb with a slightly bent top. They shrug, "This'll have to do, then."

They lean closer to Eda, leaning onto the Locker before pulling out a small lock of her hair. They brush through it lightly, plucking out a leaf in the process.

She blushes at the proximity- because Raine's so close. And then Raine looks up at her with slightly wide eyes, and they're aware of it too. Hesitantly, they reach out to touch her cheek, one firm hand still gliding through her hair.

The comb catches a tangle near her neck and breaks, and Raine rolls their eyes, "Eda... you need to comb your hair if you're going to keep it this long," They mutter.

Butterflies engulf inside the bottomless pit of what is called a "stomach" and Eda presses them down. Because they're stupid and not necessary right now.

"I do what I want," She rolls her eyes right back, but without any heat.

Raine leans in and presses a featherlight kiss on Eda's cheek. "You do you, the- SCREEEEECH."

The Locker screams at the top of its lungs, signaling the start of the school day. They both jump apart, blushing and shocked by the outburst, before starting to giggle.

"Way to ruin the moment," Eda folds her hands, and smacks the Locker for good measure. She's not actually angry, but the squeaking box doesn't need to know that.

"We should get to class," Raine grins, "See you at lunch?"

"If I don't get detention by then, absolutely," She winks and starts walking away, not before noticing Raine's amused expression, feeling so much better than she did before.

Only a few seconds later, she hears: "Oh, and by the way, you owe me a new comb!"

—

Eda never ends up giving Raine a new comb, which is fine, because Raine forgot about it anyway.

When Eda brings it up one afternoon while playing grudgby, a few months later, Raine snorts, "I was joking, Eda. It was practically useless anyway. Seriously, I don't mind."

Eda smiles lightly, "Thanks, then."

"Not a problem, soldier," they nod, kicking the ball with all the strength they had. It misses the goal and soars outside the field, and into the stands, causing both of them to groan. Every time this happens, they spend at least fifteen minutes trying to find it.

"On second thought, maybe I could do with a favor," Raine mumbles, "There might be a storm today and I need to find that ball soon."

"You got it, commander," Eda salutes, running towards the stands, "Last one there is a rotten slimesicle!"

They don't find the ball.

It's been an hour, and there's no sign of it anywhere. Clouds are billowing in the sky, and it's begun to drizzle. Eda shivers, mentally chiding herself for not wearing something warmer.

Raine looks up, concerned. "You can take my jacket, if you want? We can look for the ball tomorrow, let's just get home soon."

Eda is about to protest, but Raine picks up the grudgby jacket that they take with them to practice, and gently hands it over to her.

And well, she can't say no to them now, can she?

She takes the jacket, hesitantly pulling it over her arms. It's a little bit too tight and slightly short, but it couldn't have been better. And, on another note, it smells like rain.

It's kind of coincidental (or maybe not), but Raine always smells like petrichor. Petrichor in the boiling isles is... not an incredibly popular scent. But she thinks otherwise- once the acid rain disappeared, it smells pretty decent outside. Or maybe that was just Eda.

Dating Raine kind of felt like petrichor, when she thought about it. The days of giggling and blushing and getting embarrassed weren't gone, but they weren't... incredibly common anymore. Raine wasn't something new and exciting anymore- but they were something better. They were home. Not that Eda would ever say it out loud, but it was true.

They were like the feeling after the rain ended, after the excitement, after the fear. It was the peace and knowledge that the two of them were here, together, and it was enough. She was enough.

The rain begins to grow a tad bit heavier, and they duck under the bleachers. "We gotta get to dry ground," Eda mutters, because everyone knows that acid rain burns are not fun to deal with.

"No shit, Titans." Raine huffs, "C'mon, the training room should be open. It's our best bet."

—

They do not find the grudgby ball.

Actually, they do. Just not the next day, or the day after that, or the day after that.

Nope, they find that stupid ball four years later. They're both out of school now, with Raine starting their work with the covens, and Eda playing professional grudgby.

Eda flips her hair behind her back, trying to untangle it from her favorite jacket. Well, it's technically Raine's, but she kind of kept it a while back- and Raine didn't seem to mind that much.

They'd stitched a bright red "E" onto it only a few years back, smiling at Eda as they handed it over. "You wear it too damn much, so might as well have your name on it. You know, just in case you lose it."

Now, she's wearing it, watching the practice from the stands above. After injuring her finger in a thumb war (Why? Raine had sighed, You're an adult, Eda), she was forced to take a short break from playing.

She kicks her legs back and forth, humming to some screaming-rock music playing on the stadium's radio to keep the players upbeat. They've rented out the Hexside playing grounds for just today, since their normal practice place is infested with a very territorial slitherbeast.

Suddenly, her leg hits something soft, and she frowns. Leaning down, she pushes out a small brown ball. Someone must have lost their ball kicking it up here, she thinks, we used to do that all the time.

It's a fond memory of Raine- and one that sends a pang of nostalgia through her chest. She turns the ball in her hands, and pauses when she notices a small R + E etched into the ball's leather.

She bursts out in giggles, because what the fuck. She snorts, "Raine's would love this- after all these years, and I'm the one who finds this old thing."

Eda tucks it into her bag and waits until practice is finished. And as she walks outside, she realizes three things.

One, Raine's not waiting for her.

Two, Raine won't be waiting for her anymore.

Three, Raine and her broke up.

Four days ago. One day after her fucking birthday. Who does that? Who breaks up with someone twenty-four hours after the best day of their life?

Raine Whispers, that's who.

Eda's still wearing the bracelet Raine gave her, and she doesn't know why. She should be throwing it to the owls, but she can't bear to lose the last gift Raine gave her.

It's a white one, made out of bat silk. There are small, intricate designs on the tiny black clasp connecting it around her wrist. And in the very middle, is half of a heart. It used to be Raine's parents, and they'd given it to them as a promise. Raine has one too, and it's almost identical to hers- except that it's black.

It was for the "love of their life", Raine's parents had told them. And that bastard had given it to her, like a fucking joke, and then broken up with her.

It was kind of her fault, actually. She'd messed things up and now Raine refused to talk to her, and she was kind of- very slightly- heartbroken.

Very slightly. She didn't sob into her pillow for hours last night.

Eda turns her wrist, and lets out a self-deprecating laugh. Fitting, she thinks, That it's a broken heart.

She'll get over Raine Whispers, she knows.

She thinks.

She hopes.

—

Edalyn Clawthorne is an outlaw. She's fearless, she's wanted, she's famous, and she's living her dream life.

At least, that's what most elves think.

No, the real Edalyn Clawthorne doesn't even exist anymore. She's living as a facade, as the "Owl Lady" in fear of people knowing who she truly is.

It's the harsh truth, and one she hates to confront.

Damn it, the only reason she's stealing things from the human realm is to get on the coven's nerves. Because you know what? Fuck the coven. Fuck Belos. Fuck that fucking Raine Whispers.

She's swearing too much, and she knows it. But there isn't anybody to stop her, there isn't anybody that cares.

She's so, so alone.

And she hates it so much.

"Eda?" A tiny voice calls out from the living room, and Eda wills her self-pitying thoughts to disappear. She's not completely alone, because she has King. King, who she brought home one night and then just... kept.

"Yeah, King?" She calls back, "Do you need anything?"

"The King demands another glass of red juice!" He declares.

"You hated it, remember?" She sighs, "You threw it at your stuffed demons last time."

"Exactly! I must use it to torture the souls of my prisoners so they bow to my will!" He cackles an evil laugh (it's actually adorable, Eda thinks), and then she hears things being thrown around the room.

Oh well.

She forces herself to stand up and grab the broom, because Hooty obviously can't dust himself (actually, he can- but don't tell Eda that). Plus, the Owl House was beginning to look like a dump, and King was not helping.

She could get through this, one day at a time. It would get better, because she had King, and he was safe, and that was all she needed for now.

But speak of the titan, and he shall arrive. Just then, King screams, and Eda jumps to her feet and runs- alert and scared.

"King?" She panics, "You 'kay?"

She finds him in the middle of a large pile of stuffed animals, groaning and muttering unintelligible syllables to himself.

"King?" She picks him up slowly, stepping over the oversized stuffies. "Buddy, what happened?"

"I thought... it would be a good idea to make a tower of doom! And have my servants carry me up to the top... but they dropped me! And I fell," He bawls, tears springing from his bright brown eyes.

"Does anything hurt?" She asks softly.

"My arm... and my head... and my legs," King wails.

Titans, why couldn't the world just give her a break?

"We need to get you to a doc- oh no," Realization dawns on her when she realizes she can't even come close to the Boiling Isles without someone noticing her. And everyone knows she's wanted- she'd be caught immediately.

She looks at King, sniffling in her hands, and groans inwardly.

It was time to make a trip to the doctor's office, also known as the center of the Boiling Isles.

Five minutes later, she's sitting on Owlbert and flying into the city, wearing a wild magic-made black cloak, large sunflower glasses (she couldn't find anything else, okay?), and a brown rainhat.

Here's the thing: getting into the doctor's is easy- nobody suspects anything when a cloaked woman with a wailing baby enters a hospital. But inside, Eda's going to have to drop all of her magic, in case it's carrying any sort of disease or whatever. What's she going to do then?

She has absolutely no idea.

The doctor gives King a vial to drink, which, since she's spent a ton of her life in illegal activity, Eda knows doesn't work. So slams a bunch of money on the table, leaving the poor worker gaping. "You're- you're a wonderful mom, ma'am. There's a proper healing potion in the back I can give to your son, but he'll have to take it once a day for about a week." Eda nods sharply, and the doctor scuttles away.

When he comes back, Eda's magic has faded (the hospital has leeched it away from her), and the doctor's smile falls. "You're- you're the-"

She groans, and without thinking, drop-kicks the doctor and grabs the vial. "We'll be leaving now, thank you," she smirks, picking the wide-eyed King off the hospital bed and running into the hallway.

Red alarms begin to blare loudly, and Eda's smirk disappears. "They have security buttons in every room now, don't they?" she mutters.

"Yes, they do, actually," a voice replies, causing her to freeze. Something about it isn't right, and it sends shivers down Eda's spine. She whisks around, finding herself face to face with the one and only...

Fucking Titans.

...Raine Whispers.

"Ever since you've turned the Boiling Isles into your own little playhouse, Belos has taken extra measures to keep us safe from your harmful antics. Now, I ask that you hand over whatever you've stolen, and come with me to the coven court."

They're on different sides now, she remembers. They're the enemy.

"As if, get the fuck away from me." She steps back and stands taller, but Raine isn't intimidated.

"Eda-" They begin, but are quickly interrupted.

"That's Edalyn to you, thank you very much. Better yet, call me the Owl Lady." She scoffs.

Raine sighs, a flicker of hurt passing through their expression, "Don't make me do this the hard way, Edalyn."

"I haven't stolen anything!" She hisses, "King got hurt and I needed a remedy, okay? Just let me go, and I won't do anything stupid." She hesitates, "Please."

Raine looks down, like as if they've only just realized King was there, hugging Eda's leg.

"King?"

"Yada, yada, yada, I picked him up on the side of the road and I'm taking care of him now. Can we go now?"

She drops the vial into her pocket, distracted and trying to find ways to get out of this forsaken place. But instead, she drops it, and it lands on her toe, spilling the remedy all over the floor.

And you know- she's stressed, and she's tired, and she's had a really long day- so it's only natural that she starts tearing up.

"Fuck off, Rainestorm," She mumbles, looking away so they can't see that she's so done right now.

She doesn't miss how Raine's eyes widen, and then flicker to King, and then to the broken vial.

"Take this."

"What?"

"Take this," They mutter, handing her a similar vial from their cloak, "I use it for my wrist sometimes."

"Wha-"

"Titans, Eda, just take the vial and go! I'll lead the guards off. Just... go."

She doesn't need to be told twice, she grabs King and the vial and Owlbert and flies out of the window immediately.

She's breathing too hard, and her heart is racing a mile a minute. It only slows down when she spots the Owl House below, and she lands shakily.

The first thing she does is tuck King to bed, whispering promises and wishes as he falls asleep. Then, she goes to her room and cries.

She hasn't cried like this in a while, like all her emotions are escaping her faster than she can keep track of them. Seeing Raine was like a knife had sliced all the wounds she was trying to close.

She's still in love with Raine Whispers, she knows.

And she hates it more than anything else in the world.

—

The Owl House is full of people, but sometimes, Eda still feels alone.

Luz and Amity are trying to find potion ingredients in town, King is sulking, and Willow, Gus, and Hunter are all plotting in the living room.

Unity day is soon, and they know it. It looms over them like the mist on a winter morning, like they're flying in a thousand clouds.

Eda isn't stupid- she knows this could be it.

They could lose people, and they will lose people.

But another part of her tells her that everyone will be fine, because they have to be, because she needs them to be.

It's so stupid, and so selfish. But she can't help it. If she lost Luz, or King, or even the stupid friends she keeps bringing over, it'd hurt like hell, and Eda's done with losing people. Her parents, her sister, Raine.

So she settles the score with herself and vows that she won't let any of them die before she does.

She'll fight for them, and them only.

She'll die for them, and them only.

She's cooking lunch when the doorbell rings, and she groans because she knows she's the one who'll have to open it. She lets the levitating ingredients plop back onto the table, and walks towards the door.

"Welcome back, Luz-"

Come on.

"Raine," She blinks, then regains her posture, "Can I be of any assistance?"

Raine shakes their head in a clipped and polite manner, "Can you give Luz these documents for me? They're about the Day of Unity, I managed to snag them from Belos."

This whole... thing is so weird. Raine is suddenly against Belos, and is helping Luz, and indirectly helping her. And don't forget the fact that they willingly got taken by a weird monster thing for her. And they used the song they wrote together, performed bard magic, and saved her.

Eda doesn't want to talk about that day. Because she lost Raine all over again, and she knows Raine knows it too.

Now, they're acting as if nothing ever happened.

She takes the documents from her ex's hand, and nods, "Thank you, I'll let her know when she comes back. It might not be a good idea to come here during the day, though. Someone might catch you."

"Concerned, Edalyn?" They smirk, with a look that Eda knows all too well. It fades quickly. "It's better this way, I can just say I'm going out for an errand and nobody thinks its suspicious. I'm hiding right under their nose."

"Fascinating." She deadpans, "Well, if you'll excuse me, I have lunch to make and children to help, sooo-"

"Need help?"

"Sorry?"

They fidget with their glasses, a nervous habit they seemed to have picked up during their days with the coven. "I've noticed there's a ton of people here nowadays, and it's probably stressful, so... do you need any help?"

"Is the great Raine Whispers asking if they can sacrifice their prestigious time to help me make lunch?" She asks, incredulously.

"You're working so much, Edalyn, it's the least I can do to help." There is something tender in their voice that makes her heart clench.

Titans, fuck this. "Call me Eda," A voice speaks, one that she can barely recognize as her own.

It's Raine's turn to be surprised now, "Huh?"

"Just- call me Eda. If we're working against Belos together, you're going to have to stop acting like we're strangers," She tries to sound harsh, but it comes out softer then she's expecting.

"Alright, Eda," they smile, "Can I come in now?"

—

The Day of Unity is over.

They're alive. They're all... okay.

But it's not over yet, because The Collector is going insane, and nobody knows how to stop him.

And King... King is trapped up there with him too. She needs to find him, and... she needs to find Raine too.

Getting up to the floating castle is the hardest part, but she manages. Flying with harpy wings is surprisingly easy. She's planning on finding King first, but as she sneaks in through the backside, she feels a familiar tug of magic pull her closer.

Raine is here, and Raine is close.

She wants to look for them- she wants to find them and take them back, but she needs to find King before anything. King is her first priority.

Finding the Collector's room isn't hard, there's a trail of stars descending towards it in ever direction.

But she isn't exactly sure how she's going to grab King. The Collector would catch her if she made a run for it, but she doesn't have too many options.

She hears King say, "Hey! What if we played over there with the stuffed animals? I'll hide in one of them, and you have to try to find me!"

There's a scuttling noise, which she assumes is King hiding.

Eda waits, and waits, and waits, and hears the Collector looking inside of each toy and chest. "KING!" He squeals, "I'm going to find you!"

The Collector is nearing the door, and she needs to get out of here soon.

Something bumps on her leg, and she looks down and...

"King?"

"Eda??"

She ignores him, and lets her fight-or-flight mode take control. She picks up King, and then she's running, running, running, away from The Collector's voice and down to Raine's chamber.

"I thought you were hiding?" She whispers, breathlessly.

"I needed the bathroom, and he wouldn't let me go," King pouts in her arms, "So I just tried to escape for a bit! Why are you here?"

"To save you guys, obviously."

King frowns, "The Collector'll be lonely though."

"Seriously?" She hisses, "You're worried about that?"

They reach the entrance, and Eda pauses. King looks up, "What's wrong?"

"Raine's here."

King looks at her for a few seconds, then flails around, "Put me down! I'll stay on guard. If The Collector comes, I can trick him or something. Go get Raine." He grins.

Eda thinks about it for a while, and then places him down, "I'm so proud of you," she murmurs, and presses a kiss on his forehead, "I'll be back before you know it. Try not to get caught."

She's running again, opening doors (The Collector isn't very good at locking things), and looking through every room she can find.

It's like a maze, and she's starting to wonder if she's going in circles.

That is, until she finds them. They're locked onto a sticky black goop, and they freeze when they see Eda.

Oh right, she's still in harpy mode.

She spots their glasses on the ground and picks them up.

"Stay away!" Raine yells, and Eda has to hold back the urge to snicker.

She comes closer, putting the glasses on their face and cupping their cheek with her hand. "Hey, Rainestorm."

"Eda?"

"Mh hm."

"You're here?"

"I am."

"You're not just my imagination?" They ask, skeptically.

She giggles at that, "No, I'm here."

She begins working through the thick goop, one strand at a time. "How are you doing?"

"Peachy," Raine mumbles.

"Seems like it." They look so tired, with dark eyebags and new scars. But Eda has never seen them look so beautiful before. Because they're here, and they're alive, and they're okay.

They sit in comfortable silence for a while, Eda working through the goop and Raine staring at her as if she's some sort of new instrument species. If instruments have species, she doesn't know.

A scream breaks the silence, and they both freeze. "KIIING! I DON'T LIKE THIS GAME ANYMORE! LET'S PLAY SOMETHING ELSE." The Collector's upset, and he's nearing wherever they are.

"Take King and get out of here," Raine whispers as Eda breaks half of the goop, placing a small instrument in her shaking palm.

"No," she glares at them, pushing the miniature violin back. They must have used the last of their magic to turn it tiny in a desperate attempt to keep it safe. "Rainestorm, you've given me so fucking much. I'm not taking your violin. It's... it's your life."

"Eda," Their voice cuts through her protests, "You are my life. And I need you to be safe. Please."

It's a confession, and it causes Eda to take a step back, "I'm not leaving without you."

It's all she can say right now, with her mind so full of emotions and Raine.

"I left you," they look away, "You couldn't look at me without remembering how much I messed up."

She laughs, which startles them. "How much you messed up? Don't blame yourself for my mistakes, Raine. It was my fault. I get it. I would leave too, if I was stuck with someone like me," She's getting a bit too self-deprecating, plus, she doesn't like this whole game of charades, so she pulls closer.

"Raine Whispers, I'm not taking your violin with me. I'm taking you. We're going to get to the Owl House safely and I'm never, ever, going to let go of you again." She says it so decisively, with a fire in her eyes she knows Raine has never seen before.

And then there's a snap! and Raine stumbles out of their prison and into Eda's arms.

"Easy there, soldier," She smiles, and Raine returns it weakly.

"That's my line."

"C'mon," she smiles, hauling Raine up, "Let's get you home."

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xesarchives · 2 years

Text

Big Brothers - platonic!gn!reader x clay jensen + justin foley

anon asked: Hi there! Would you mind writing sth with Clay and Justin and the prompt "I warned you, he warned you, mum warned you" from your prompt list? Thank you :)

Posted June 10th, 2020

this is my favorite thing I have ever written and even if you aren’t a fan of 13rw I highly suggest you read this

I wasn’t sure if you wanted this to be a sibling!reader x Justin and Clay but I did it anyway where the boys are helping reader with their first heartbreak. It's just a Lil blurb. I hope you enjoy it!

104

“I warned you, he warned you, even mom warned you”

Word Count: 559

“Hey, you’re home from work early, what are you doing in here?” Clay asked as I walked into his and Justin’s room. I plopped onto Justin’s bed hugging his pillow. “You okay?” Justin asked noticing the tears on my face as he rushed to my side. I shook my head letting out a sob. Justin pulled me into a hug. “Was it Jeremy?” Clay asked standing at the end of Justin’s bed. “Yeah” I managed to sob out, hugging tighter onto Justin. “I knew it! I warned you, he warned you, even mom warned you! I’m gonna kill them!” Clay yelled causing Justin to send him an angry glare. “Not now, asshole,” Justin said, rubbing my back. “Sorry” Clay said sitting on the other side of me. “I want you to beat his ass,” I said wiping my eyes with my sleeves “why? What did he do to you?” Justin asked checking to see if I had been hurt anywhere. “He cheated on me” I whispered. “I’m gonna kill him!” Justin yelled standing up. “I need you can you do that later, J?” I asked leaning into Clay’s side and letting him put his arm around me. “Yeah, yes of course,” Justin said sitting by down next to me and kissing my temple. “Wanna go to Monet’s or Rosie’s?” Clay asked making me look up at him. “Yeah, sure I guess,” I said. Clay nodded and got up rummaging through his drawer. “What are you doing?” Justin asked letting me lay my head on his shoulder. “Looking for this” Clay closed his drawer holding up the hoodie I always stole from him. I smiled a little catching it when he tossed it at me. “Thanks, Clay,” I said standing up and pulling it over my head.

Justin handed me a french fry “thank you” I mumbled receiving a small smile from the boy. “You feeling any better, Y/n?” Clay asked taking a drink of his milkshake. “Yeah, thanks to you guys” I smiled at them eating the fry. “So, what’s this guy’s address?” Justin asked leaning forward. “Why?” I asked eyeing the two. “We’re gonna go buy a shit ton of Toilet paper and tp his house,” Clay said nonchalantly shrugging his shoulders.

I laughed watching Justin throw another roll at Jeremy’s window. “Oh shit!” Justin yelled grabbing my hand and signaling Clay to stop. I gasped seeing the lights had turned on. We all ran towards the car almost tripping as we attempted to open the doors. “Holy shit!” Clay yelled as he began driving. I laughed putting the leftover toilet paper on the seat next to me and buckling my seatbelt. “Think they saw us?” Justin asked catching his breath and then letting out a quiet laugh. “Oh absolutely!” I said causing Justin to laugh even harder. “Feel better now?” Clay asked smiling back at me and quickly looking back at the road. “Oh, 1000% I definitely needed that, it’s gonna suck when you guys leave, what will I ever do without my big brothers?” I dramatically leaned backward. “You look at me as your big brother?” Justin asked looking at me. “Of course J and tonight proved it, you are just as much my brother as Clay which means I am forever calling you JJ” I smirked. Justin laughed and said. “JJ huh? Sounds good to me”

#justin foley x reader #clay jensen x reader #13rw imagine

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boba-at-323 · 2 years

Text

Forever Only

Note : EXTERMELY lovey-dovey || VERY cringey || lowkey sucks || Not proofread|| Where is my Renjun, Why do I not have a Renjun :( || and yes I am very unoriginal I cannot come up with titles 🤭🤌

“Hey, Y/n!” You turn around to see your boyfriend waving at you from a distance, jogging his way towards you.

“Oh, Hi Renjun!” You greet him with a smile when he catches up to you.

“Are you done with your classes?” He asks, taking the books in your hands from you. It was a habit of his which always made you wonder how he was such a gentleman.

“Well… Not quiet,” you frown at him, taking your phone out to check the timetable, “I still have 2 classes left…”

When you see his glint in his eyes disappear, you cheekily smile.

“But! I do have an hour free… Did you have any plans?”

“Plans? Do you know what day it is?” he looks at you with a bewildered expression, as if you had just told him something extremely nasty.

You pretend to wonder for a while, adjusting the empty bag hanging from your shoulders.

“Jaehyun’s Birthday?” you stifle a laugh when you see him roll his eyes at your lame attempts to annoy him.

“That, but there’s also something that happens on the 14th of February!” he whines.

You always find him the cutest when he gets whiny. He’s just so adorable to you, even if you were the one younger than him.

“Okay, Okay!” you chuckle, “Happy Valentines to you, baby!”

You lean forward to press a kiss on his cheek, your action causing Renjun’s cheeks to heat up making his heart beat going wild. He loved you but he was never a fan of PDA.

“Aren’t you going to ask me to be your valentine?” He blurts out mindlessly, attempting to hide the blush from you, which doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

“Renjun, we’re dating. Do you really expect me to ask someone else?” you can’t help but laugh at his silly question, “You’re really cute, you know. Anyways! Back to the topic, did you have something planned out?”

“Oh, Yeah!” He says, “I have to show you a little something I got you. But first, let's get these back to their places.” he tilts his head, signalling towards the books in his hand.

Soon enough, you reach the lockers in the hallway. He keeps your books back in your locker, and takes out his ones from his own. Making sure you aren’t looking, he takes out a small box covered in a yellow wrapping paper [with, of course, Moomin printed on it] which also had a cute, little red ribbon tied around it. He quickly shoves the box in his bag, and makes his way towards the cafeteria with you.

“Do you wanna grab something?” He asks you, taking his wallet out from the back pocket of his jeans.

“Hmm... Iced lemon tea sounds nice!” you reply, looking at the menu chart displayed on top of the counter.

“Iced lemon tea, it is then” nodding, he goes to order for the both of you.

You spot an empty table and throw your bag on one of the empty chairs. Taking a seat next to the one with your bag, you take out your phone to check for any updates on the day. Articles on Valentine's Day are all over the place; everything was pink, red and disgustingly sweet. To you, it was both cute and annoying.

Before you know it, Renjun is back with two containers in his hand, both seeming to have the same drink. You eye the drinks in his hand, raising an eyebrow at him when he takes a seat opposite to you.

“What? I like lemon tea too!” he defends himself, handing you your drink.

“Sure…I believe that,” you say in a teasing tone, taking your drink from him, “Thank you, Jun.”

He flashes you that extremely contagious, signature smile of his.

It was true that he got annoyed easily, but maybe you were an exception to him. He though so because whenever he saw that mischievous smile of yours when you were thinking of ways to tease him, his heart would swell up. He swears that he would have given you a taste of your own medicine, only if he hadn’t loved you so much.

“So,” you take a sip from your drink, “What did you want to show me?”

“Right!” he remembers and starts to search for something in the bag resting on his lap.

Within a few seconds of rummaging for whatever he was looking for, he presents before you the small box which he had hidden in his bag a few minutes prior.

“Hey, what’s this?” you gasp at the cute box waiting to be opened, “You really shouldn’t have!”

“I definitely should have.” he continues, placing the gift in your hand.

You gently pull the strings of the ribbon, which unwraps itself and falls to the side. Carefully, you pull at the tape on the top of the box which had held the wrapping paper in place, making sure you don’t rip any of the adorable paper in the process. Once the wrapping paper was off, you see a black box resting in front of you.

Your eyes flicker back and forth between him and the box. An anticipating look was plastered on his face, even if he was smiling at you so warmly. Renjun was just so unpredictable, and that's what you loved the most about him.

“Open it, y/n.” he chuckles softly at your surprised expression.

Opening the box, you see a silver ring placed between a cut in red velvet base. But what caught your attention was that the ring had both your initials carved into it.

“Renjun,” you ask, “Is this…”

“...A promise ring?” he completes your question, “Yes it is, my love.”

“Wow… Jun, I-I don’t know what to say” you lightly blush at how thoughtful his gift was.

“May I?” He asks for permission, even though he knew it was already granted to him.

You give him a nod of approval, and he takes your hand in his delicately. He takes out the ring, and slips it onto your ring finger. The ring gracefully makes its home on your finger, and Renjun looks at it proudly. He smiles at the ring, thinking about how good it looks on your hand. Of course it looked good, it was made for you. But what makes him proud is that now, everyone will know that you were his.

“Where’s yours?” you question, seeing that his fingers were empty.

“Wait,” his hand makes its way towards a pocket in his jeans, pulling out a similar ring. He puts it on and extends his hand out to you.

“There! Now we both have one!” He exclaims excitedly.

“Thank you, Jun,” you chirp, giving him a warm smile, “I’ll treasure this forever.”

“Well, you’d better. And I should see you wearing this daily, no matter where you go. I want people to know you belong to me.” He demands laughing at his own words, eyes twinkling.

“Yes sir!” You jokingly salute him, laughing along with him.

You were truly going to cherish this precious gift for the rest of your life because after all, it would keep on reminding you of the person you love the most, the sole purpose of your happiness, the person you wanted to spend all of eternity with.

Huang Renjun, your forever only.

Title : Forever Only || Word count: 1.220k || Genre: FLUFF FLUFF SO MUCH FLUFF 😩 || Pairing: College bf! Renjun x implied Fem!Reader || Valentine day gift for myself thank you very much

Tagging : @armysantiny

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ice-and-lightning · 1 month

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Character Analysis/Headcanon - Arlan || Character Story: Part IV

It's time to dissect this part. A very interesting part in my opinion. Let's go.

"Everyone's evacuated. Arlan. Hurry up!" "There may still be survivors inside." "No... There aren't any more life signs in there." He thought he could trust Asta until the moment when countless Antimatter Legion pawns pour towards him like a tsunami. The signal from the watcher zone is faint. Asta won't be able to see this situation. He is now standing, alone, in the elevator. He has to make a decision, even if he has to disobey Asta's orders — No matter the cost, he has to block access to the elevator to save everyone. He cannot allow these monsters to get to the master control zone. "Sorry, Miss Asta..."

Here we see Arlan doubting and disobeying Asta for the first time ever. He's not doubting her because he distrusts her, no, he's doubting her because he can see something she can't. He has information she lacks.

I think this part is very important to his development. Here he comes to realise that Asta might actually miss things. That she doesn't always know best. She's human and humans sometimes miss things. Yes, she saved him from the streets and will therefore forever be his saviour (even if she dislikes this thought), since without her kindness, he doesn't know how his life would've turned out. Most likely not good.

Yet, she can be wrong. This is a sort of emergency revelation to him and not something he fully comprehends there and then, since he is being attacked, but it will fully sink in later. Though, this doesn't mean he will care any less about her.

The Antimatter Legion strikes him down from behind before he can explain himself. He falls, and his remote communications disconnects. He had never hesitated, whether working in Miss Asta's home or after becoming Herta Space Station's head of Security Department. He had always taken for granted that, since Miss Asta decided to head in one direction, he has to follow her.

First of all, in the game, we're told he hurt his hand and leg, but here he's said to be struck down from behind, and together with next paragraph, it sounds like he was hit on the head. So, I'm going to hc that he got a concussion (which would explain why he doesn't fight as well as he otherwise would) first from that blow and later got the injuries to his leg and hand. The hand on, I hc, is an old injury acting up again.

Anyway, here again we see that Arlan has always just followed Asta, not even considering he can go against her wishes and whatever direction she heads towards. I think part of this is because he has never had much opportunity to choose. Usually it's been a case of 'do this or suffer' or just following orders. Partly, I also think that he has not had anything against following her lead and Asta does seem to genuinely care about him and I don't think she'd let anything happen to him or make him do anything she thinks he wouldn't want to do. If I remember correctly, besides telling him to relax, she also tells him in game to not do all these tasks that's not part of his job description. He do them anyway.

Arlan raises his head with great difficulty, and the monsters move closer to him. He had never disobeyed an order from Miss Asta before. This is the first time. "Hopefully it won't be the last time." This thought pops up in his head. Propping himself up with his greatsword, he slowly and firmly stands up.

And here we have the tenacious guardian getting back on his feet to protect those he cares about. Although he might not care about all the researchers the same way. It is clear from things he says in other places that he does care about and respect the work they do. It's all definitely more than just a job to him, with or without Asta.

We also get to see that although he doesn't back down from making sacrifices, he is in no hurry to die and also ready to disobey Asta again, should he ever need to. Arlan is making a stride in his development as a person while getting ready to fight, which honestly suit his protective and always-ready personality, in my opinion.

So, that was a little bit of a character analysis. If you read it all, thanks. If not, that's fine too.

TL;DR: Arlan gets a personality development in a crisis, disobey Asta before getting a concussion that later leads to him injuring his leg and hand.

#m: arlan #headcanon #headcanon arlan

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kritischetheologie · 2 years

Note

would love a director’s commentary for the hotel room recruitment/seduction scene with Toto and Bono!

hello hello! your wish is my command :))

They hold the meeting in Toto’s suite on the Thursday night of the next race weekend, in Singapore. [We don't see the meeting get arranged, we just cut directly from Monza to Singapore, following the 2023 calendar. The fact that it's in the suite, at night, is a sign that it's clandestine. It's also a little bit erotic, though we obviously don't get any payoff on that eroticism at this point.] As he rides the elevator up to the top floor, [I will never stop using how high up a room is in a hotel as a signal of how powerful its occupant is] Charles’s instincts scream that he’s taking a stupid risk, that he should wait for a better time, that if he gets caught taking this meeting and doesn’t get the seat he’s fucked, forever, irrevocably. [He's terrified of the response from Ferrari, but he also knows, though he can't quite say it out loud, that he has already left them behind. They would never forgive him for meeting with Mercedes, but he has nothing left to go back to.]

Charles reminds his instincts that he knows how to ignore fear. He drives race cars for a living. [One of the biggest themes in this fic is the way that trauma can warp your sense of what's safe and what isn't, but also the way that getting out of fucked-up situations requires you to listen to the part of your body telling you that you aren't safe. it's both, at once.]

Toto’s handshake is firm, but his smile is welcoming. [He's the Boss, in control but also kind-- the polar opposite of the passive-aggressive Mattia.] “I’m so glad you could make it,” he tells Charles. “And let me officially introduce you to—”

“Peter Bonnington,” Bono interjects. [Taking his own control of the situation.] “But everyone calls me Bono.” He and Toto look like a perfect matched pair in their white Mercedes button-downs, two sets of sleeves rolled up to two sets of elbows. [AU of this fic where they just eiffel tower Charles in this room right now. anyway, the erotic appeal of both of them does not go unnoticed. I could pretend that the rolled-up sleeves symbolize something but really I just think this image is extremely hot.]

Bono shakes Charles’s hand when Toto is finished. His hands are warmer than Toto’s, but less soft. [This, on the other hand, is meant to be a little symbolic: the warmth conveys the heat and closeness that's going to built between them, while his hands being less soft conveys that he's down to earth, or something. Mostly I wanted to throw in a tactile detail to ground us in the physicality of the scene. It's their first time making physical contact, we should linger in it.] He’s just about Charles’s height but even broader, up close, than he’d looked from the podium. [Hot.] From this distance, Charles can see the grey streaks in the close-cropped hair at his temples, a stark reminder not only of his age, but also of his experience. [Extremely hot. I don't spend much time lingering on the age difference, but this is an introductory moment for Bono, so I did want to introduce him in all his silver fox glory. Charles is also thinking about all of the title's he's won with Lewis, etc.]

Charles feels small in front of both of them. [That's not not erotic.]

“It’s an honor,” Charles says. It’s not without cause that Bono is the only race engineer to have become a household name in his own right. [This line is a little forced, but like, when you've been dealing with Ferrari's shitty fucking strategy team for years, you get to idealize Lewis's Race Engineer Bono a little bit. I also have been thinking a bit about the difference between fanfiction and original fiction, and in particular, the way that I use fanfic as an excuse not to have to introduce and establish and describe the appearances of characters. One of the things I tried to do in this fic was write something that would still work even if you had never heard of Bono.] “Thank you both for taking the time to meet with me.” [Very polite, very professional, Charles is grateful for the opportunity, etc.]

“There’s no one we’d rather see replace Lewis on our team,” Toto says. [Toto: you don't need to pitch yourself to us, we are pitching ourselves to you. The absolute fantasy of a good job interview, sob. Anyway, we have already heard from Seb that Charles is first on the list to replace Lewis, but here we have it confirmed from the man himself. It's interesting to think about what conversations have gone on behind the scenes, and what Lewis, Toto, and Bono have discussed about Charles...] He takes a seat at the glass conference table [they're in a suite, but it's one of those suites with a business setup] and motions for Charles to sit across from him.

Charles is expecting Bono to sit beside Toto, like they’re interviewing him [Charles is expecting to have to perform, to be assessed], and so is surprised when Bono sits next to him and turns his chair to face him. [Bono is on his side already. He doesn't need to prove anything to him. This is going to be a theme throughout the fic.] “Between you and me,” Bono says, with a conspiratorial glance, “I think it’s a travesty how they’re treating you at Ferrari.” [Lewis and Bono are very close, so it's not a stretch to imagine that Seb has told Lewis, and Lewis has told Bono, some of the shit that Ferrari pulls with its drivers; some of it is even visible on, ahem, Sky Sports. Anyway, one of my mutuals said that they knew this fic was by me, immediately, from the conspiratorial glance in this sentence in the summary. I chose this as the summary line because it establishes so much: the problematic treatment Charles has undergone, Bono being the one who wants to pull him out of that, and the slippage between professional and personal relationships that begins even before Charles joins Mercedes. Bono isn't exactly trying to seduce Charles into his bed yet, but he's also at the tail end of a decade-plus long engineer-driver relationship that did, in one moment, turn sexual, and has also just been a deep and trusting friendship. Which is all to say that he is much worse than he thinks he is at compartmentalizing the fondness he feels for his driver(s), the erotic rush of being in control, the professional pleasure of being in control, etc.]

Charles wants to rush to defend the team [He's well-trained, but it's deeper than that: it's hard to admit that you've been putting up with being treated unacceptably.] , but Bono waves him off. “A driver like you deserves a team he can trust implicitly,” he says, his clipped consonants a steady drumbeat [The British accent: hot. Bono offering to take over control: even hotter. One of my post-posting regrets about this fic is that I spent the first half of it so deep in Charles's trauma that I didn't quite bother figuring out who Bono really is or how he's feeling, but I do think that Bono, as I said above, think's he's good enough at compartmentalizing to get away with letting his wires get crossed occasionally. The role he likes to play in the bedroom and the role he likes to play at work are the same role.]. He smiles at Toto, then turns back towards Charles. “That’s why I asked Toto to let me join in on this conversation. Because we have so much more to offer you than just the machine. [Bono: EYE am what we have to offer you.] Though there’s no denying that she’s a real beauty, a car that’s actually worthy of your talents.”

Charles feels the implicit praise melt over him like hot wax, and he blushes. [Praise kink: activated.]

“But what we can give you, that Ferrari can’t,” Bono continues, “is absolute alignment of will.” [What a delicious euphemistic term for "the chance to submit to someone." Again: this doesn't, necessarily, have to be erotic. In this fic, Bono and Lewis maintained a professional relationship where "He's the rock star and I'm the one in charge," despite both of them wanting to be the one in charge in the bedroom, for years. Or maybe because of it. If I actually rooted around in Bono's psyche enough to write the Midnight Sun Bono POV version of this, one direction that I might go might even be that because they had had their comical "oops! all tops!" hookup attempt years ago, and have been extremely platonic ever since, Bono has gotten a little too comfortable playing fast and loose with the crossed wires, and so when he turns that energy towards someone who is into it sexually... hoo boy.] Charles looks up, confused, and Bono smiles knowingly. “I’ve heard you on the radio, constantly having to fight to make your voice heard, always being blamed for their mistakes while they take credit for your brilliance. [I am burning the scuderia to the ground actually.] It’s no wonder you haven’t been able to perform for them." [Plants can't thrive if you keep pouring bleach in when you're supposed to water them. People can't excel when they're being abused.]

Bono’s eyes are soft, but the intensity of his gaze, the weight of it, leaves Charles speechless. He can feel the steady thrumming of his pulse in his wrists, his fingertips. [He's turned on, though he won't call it that.]

“How can you be expected to race against Max, or Lewis, when you’re already at odds with the people who are meant to be guiding you?” Bono concludes. “You need to be able to let go, to give yourself over completely, so that you can focus on what you do best.” [Which is exactly how Charles ends up describing his relationship with Bono in the garage scene. Setup, payoff.] His smile splits his face open. “The rest, you can leave to me.”

Charles doesn’t know what to say to that. It’s too warm in Toto’s suite, and his face feels like it must be flushed as red as his Ferrari polo. [He's turned on, and nervous, and blaming it on the temperature. Also, is it really a chic (charles fic) if he doesn't blush the color of the Ferrari polo at some point?] He breaks away from Bono’s gaze to look at Toto, whose closed-mouth smile is unreadable. “Now let’s talk numbers,” Toto says briskly, shattering the heavy silence that’s settled over the room. [I love an erotic heavy silence and I also love Toto being the one to step in and keep the scene moving, because otherwise we would just linger in it forever.]

In his peripheral vision, Charles watches Bono tip back in his chair, his hands behind his head [so what if Seb also poses in this position in I'm the Weight, I'm into what I'm fucking into, sue me (it's about casual power and calmness and knowing you're in control and being a little smug about it)], his weight balanced perfectly precariously [a metaphor for his control, to which I will return at several moments in the fic], and he feels his throat tighten as he swallows.

#director's commentary #saltwater and gasoline #thelittlebirdthatkeptsomanywarm #the absolute fantasy of getting railed in a job interview #i mean what

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sunny6677 · 1 year

Text

Spookytale

(An Undertale x Spooky Month crossover)

Chapter 13: The Switch.

Summary: After an incident involving the whole town getting hypnotized(besides Skid) and falling into a hole, all of them find themselves in a place that will change their life forever.

TWS: PROFANITY.

————

As John felt himself fall into the abyss of the hole, he heard a large thud, and felt an odd agony in his front body as he fell face first into whatever room the hole led to. He had to admit, in all of his years of being a cop, he never pictured this happening. I mean, sentient beings with powers who lived underground? It almost sounded like some made-up fantasy story. And yet, here it was, happening anyway.

He opened his eyes slightly, letting out a grunt. "God damn.. that hurt.." He uttered behind his hairy mustache, clenching his fists as clamping his eyes tightly shut. As his vision cleared though, he found that he was surrounded by a different room. Confused feelings filled up in his stomach once he had realized the different, lonely and soundless environment he was now in.

It was a small room, like a bathroom you'd see at a motel kind of size. There was a large pile of bright red leaves to the left, and the same purple brick walling was present. But.. as he slowly lifted himself up so he could get to his feet, he saw that there was a narrow dark door a few feet from the leaves. Presumably, it must have been the exit or some kind of entrance to another room of some kind. John glanced at it for a moment, as if to observe. This place was so unpredictable, he was waiting for a monster to suddenly appear from out of it at any minute. And yet, it didn't happen.

He glanced at the leaves, observing them for a moment. Silence. Complete silence. Perhaps he actually was alone in this room, and there were no monsters here. Yet paranoia clinged to his mind endlessly.

John sighed, and mumbled, "Oh well.."

He began to walk hesitantly and slowly toward the narrow door, wanting to see if it had led to the exit like he had thought. But for a few moments, he stopped in his tracks. He glanced back at the leaves, and squinted his eyes as if to signal that he was watching it. He mumbled something along the lines of, "..I'm watchin' you." And then after a few seconds, John let out a grunt.

Finally, he stepped inside of the dark exit..

..and felt himself being dragged upwards.

————

Lila fell with a harsh thud onto an unfamiliar ground she had not encountered before, her purple hair slightly messing up a little once she did hit the ground. She had to admit, this place was so weird that it was bound to give her an anxiety attack. Every little moment, she thought there would be a monster encounter, even if there were no monsters present in the room.

Alas, that was not important. She had fell onto her back. "Oww.." She grumbled, her eyes barely squinted open as she stared up at the ceiling. She was lying as if she were making a snow angel, considering how she was positioned. Lila felt a tiny wish to only sit there and rest, for she was in pain and anguish. But there were others to care about, to save. She had to do this one simple thing, for the sake of their possible exit out of here. Even if Toriel said there might have been no possible exit for them.

Lila sat up, her mouth curled down into a slight frown. She furrowed her brows, looking onto the ground with a pained and somewhat frustrated stare. When would the constant encounters and puzzles end? This was all so unfamiliar to her.

Her vision then cleared, and she made out what looked to be a pile of red leaves next to herself(as she glanced behind herself anyway). She had barely managed to avoid falling onto it. Lila then noticed something bright and yellow.. it was golden, and it.. resembled a lever.

It.. it was a switch.

She had found the switch!

"Its.. its the switch.. oh my god, I found the switch!" Lila uttered, a look of relief crossing her face. Finally! Maybe soon, she, her son and the others would be safe from all of this nonsense. Just a few more things, and then maybe they'd finally find Toriel. And then Toriel would take them somewhere safe.

Lila forced herself up, and began to walk toward the switch without any hesitation. Her eyes widened, and her lips were curled up into a relieved smile. She felt the crunch of the leaves as she walked onto them, though she figured no harm must have been done. After all, there must have been no monsters lurking in here, right? So there was no need to worry.

Then, Lila paused. She thought she heard what sounded like ruffling and shuffling from beneath the leaves. Could it have been her imagination? "Am.. am I imagining things? What was that?" Lila inquired, raising her brow in slight confusion. After a second of silence, she shrugged, assuming it to be so. Lila began to take a step toward the switch, but then.. something emerged from out of the leaves, making the smaller ones fall into the pile even further. Lila took a step back, and froze in the soft terror of a mortal human being such as herself. It couldn't have been! Surely, it could not have been! But it was so.

There was a monster emerging from out of the leaves. It was circular shaped, and it was small, barely reaching to Lila's lower legs. It had what resembled antennas on the top of its head, and it had a dark circle in the middle of its face. And in that dark circle, there was a white circle with a white dot inside. Could that have been its.. "eye"? If it was, it apparently only had one eye. It also appeared to have some rather sharp teeth on its very low mouth. And it's arms and legs were quite scrawny and small.

Lila found a loud shriek escaping her lips. She could not help it. This place was still so weird to her human brain, she could not help but be somewhat afraid still. Perhaps monsters were used to it, but she was not. The monster took a step foward. It drew near her, only gazing up at her with its strange eyes. It let out an almost grotesque sound, though it didn't sound too strange compared to that one possessed exterminator she met one time..

Lila froze, her hands shaking slightly. But she then shook her head. She knew what to do, so why was she so afraid anyway? Hadn't she already encountered enough supernatural things to not be scared of such events? Why was she even anxious around this thing?!

She paused, and then cleared her throat. She forced herself to speak in a louder tone, saying, "Hey.. I don't want to fight. I'm sorry if it came off that way, if it came off that I wanted to.. pick on you or something. But—"

Before she could even finish, the monster grumbled, "Finally, someone gets it!"

Lila raised a brow in confusion. What did that even mean? But then, she blinked in surprise once she saw several things flying at her at once. She began dodging narrowly, letting out yells of surprise. Whatever it was throwing seemed to be three small balls all connected to eachother.. heh, that sounds wrong.

Then, as if in the blink of an eye, as she dodged one.. they all flickered away, like they hadn't ever existed. Lila awkwardly stared at the monster, her gaze fixed upon it. It still gazed at her, with its strange looking face. She then finally spoke up again, "He—Hey! I know I came across as threatening, but you can't just fight me like that!" The monster only let out a noise in response.

She sighed, "Listen.. I'm sorry. I'm just having a really tough time down here. Do you think we can just.. move on from this? Please?"

The monster hesitated for a moment. Was it.. thinking? Could monsters even think? Well, seemingly they could. After all, Toriel was sentient and almost humanly in a way. Then, the monster turned around, and.. sank back into the leaves without a word. Was.. was that it's way of saying yes? If so, it was an odd way.

Lila didn't know what to say. She awkwardly said aloud with a smile, "Uh.. okay, thank you! What.. whatever that means, anyway."

She sighed again. "Well, that was weird.. let's just go ahead and flip the switch.." Lila began walking back up to the switch, narrowly avoiding stepping onto the area where the monster sank back inside. As she finally stepped before the switch, she extended out her hand, and flipped it downwards. Then, she heard a loud (but not too loud) booming sound that was muffled. Lila looked upwards. She found nothing of the sort that had been activated. Though she assumed the spikes must have gone down.

Lila nodded, and smiled in satisfaction. She had done it.

She then looked over beside the switch. There was a dark entrance, which must have led back up to where she was before. Lila only assumed it to be so.

Without any hesitation, she sped-walked up to it, and went inside..

...and yelled in surprise as her body then flung upwards.

————

Jack fell with a rough thud, onto the side of his body. He barely lifted himself with his elbow, letting out pained groans and grumbles. Oh, the agony.. sometimes, he wish he didn't live in a town with a bunch of supernatural activity. If he didn't, he wouldn't be here. But alas, that was not important. He needed to do his job for the sake of other people. How he felt mattered not. The safety of others mattered more.

He opened his eyes, and saw a pile of red leaves in front of himself. He let out a grunt of shock, and flung his body backwards, as if expecting something to happen. He felt his back hit the wall as he scooted away from it, trying to avoid any event that could have happened. And yet.. no event did. When he glanced around though, he realized there was no switch. Someone else must have found that room, but.. he then heard a loud boom.

"What.. what was that?" Jack questioned to himself, raising a brow. He wondered what it must have been. His heart raced. Perhaps something was happening up there. And if there was.. did he need to find a way back up right away? Before he could question that though, he felt his foot softly jab something as he tried to move it back so he could support himself up.

His breathing began to increase in pace once he saw something emerge from the ground. A crescent smile greeted him, along with dark narrow eyes. Though.. he realized... it must have been a carrot monster of some kind? Either way, no matter what it was, he knew what he was required to do.

He slowly stood up, and put on a defensive stance just incase he'd need it. Jack could do this. He just had to do exactly what he did before.

————

Of course, not everyone emerged back up from the patches immediately at the same time, as some were still inside. But the few who had emerged back up fell right onto the ground.. beside all of the children and Jaune. The few who emerged in question were seemingly Streber, Ethan, John, Lila and Kevin. The only one who had not was Jack.

"Mom!" Skid beamed in excitement. He ran up to Lila, his little legs scrambling behind his tiny body. He then tightly held onto her, nuzzling his face against her shoulder. Lila grinned in response, and held him back. "Hey, son.." As Skid and Lila conversed in relief and excitement, Kevin let out a grumble of exhaustion or pain. Ethan inquired, "..you good, man?"

"Yeah, I'm okay.. I just fought some weird sentient vegetable who shot a bunch of other vegetables at me, so I'm feeling kinda out of it right now." Kevin replied, rubbing his forehead. That was possibly the weirdest thing for one to hear out of context, but that wasn't relevant. Streber replied, "Geez.. heh, well.. I ended up seeing that ghost thing again. It didn't fight me though.. what about you, Ethan?"

As Streber turned his head to Ethan, he blinked.

...Ethan was wearing a bright red and worn down ribbon on the back of his head.

John uttered from in the background, "What the..?"(Along with some of the children, besides Pump, who stared in slight disbelief).

"...Ethan, why are you wearing a ribbon?" Streber slowly questioned as Roy began snickering quietly in the background.

"...well, I'll explain it to you later. But.. hey, I look good in it, don't I?" Ethan smirked with a smug wink. If this has been an anime, a yellow sparkle would have popped up next to him.

Streber paused. "...Ethan.."

There was a moment of silence.

"You look great!" Streber grinned.

"Heheh.. yeahhh.." Ethan quietly cheered, giving Streber a high-five. Kevin only smiled at the sight, seemingly a little entertained but playing it off as if he were not. John only rolled his eyes, groaning a little. Even Lila, who had raised a brow, was smiling as Kevin was. And even some of the kids had been smiling.

But the question was.. when would Jack be arriving?

"Wait.. where's Jack?" John muttered to himself.

That question was then answered when Jack suddenly emerged from the ground with a slight yell.

////////////////////

#spooky month #read the tws #spooky month au #kevin spooky month #skid spooky month #skid and pump #pump and skid #pump spooky month #streber spooky month #lila spooky month #ethan spooky month #jaune spooky month #roy spooky month #jack spooky month #john spooky month #spookytale #undertale

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