#i lied here it is three thousand words

[teabiscs]

Yubo Fic Idea

So I should have planned this out for my other story because it would have been way more interesting. But I’m going for softness and fluff. So probably good this didn’t get thought of back in September last year. Because Yuriy in my fic didn't need this on top of everything

But here it is. It’s a slow burn, if that's not obvious by how RIDICULOUSLY long this whole thought is. Because I do not know how to be casual. Also if something like this exists EVEN in the slightest, help me OUT.

Boris and Yuriy are both in love with one another. Everyone with eyes can see Boris is in love with Yuriy. Head over heels. Heart eyes. Would kill for the redhead. 

Those who know Yuriy well enough (Borg and Kai) know that he loves Boris. Maybe he can’t articulate it. Maybe it makes him feel funny admitting it. Maybe he thinks it’s embarrassing broadcasting his feelings. 

It’s 100% mutual. Right? Perfect. 

Butt not in this plot. Yuriy is fine with what they have. Doesn’t want to throw off the status quo they have of being Friends+ (the plus being: kissing, cuddling, sleeping together. Not orgasms tho bc they never got that far). Yuriy is comfortable. He has Boris. He has his family and everyone is happy!

Except for Boris. Who craves more. He wants that silly little title of /boyfriend/. Wants to hold the redhead’s hand in public. To hold him. To express more of his love out of behind the closed doors of Yuriy’s bedroom. Boris is so patient and understanding that Yuriy needs time. But at this point it’s been five years of this cat and mouse game and they’re in their mid twenties. And Boris is human. He is greedy. He wants things. 

And things unravel from here. It always starts a fight when Boris brings up anything related to wanting more. Consolidating space, PDA, boyfriends. And Boris is tired at this point. It’s been five fucking years of waiting. This gets heated. Yelling and screaming. Snarling. And if they both didn’t have extensive therapy, hands would have been thrown. 

And it ends with Boris giving Yuriy an ultimatum, they either progress to a new level in their relationship or what they have is done. They’ll still be friends. But for Boris’ sake he’s stepping back. 

And Yuiry chooses the latter. What he doesn’t realize is how serious Boris was. 

He moves out the next week, half out of spite, half because he thinks it will make him feel better. Sergei and Ivan know, but Boris doesn’t tell Yuriy. So yuriy comes home one day to a silent house with shifty eyes when they all sit down for dinner. No one says anything about Boris’ seat being empty or the lack of a place setting. So yuriy just thinks he’s out for the night, and since they’re on bad terms just wasn’t told. But that night he gets a better look around the house and notices some of Boris’ things missing but he tries to ignore it. Then the next morning Boris still isn’t there. Yuriy looks around at the other guys at the table eating breakfast. A plate is still missing from Boris’ spot. 

“Boris didn’t come home last night?” He asks

The two share a look. And Sergei goes “oh fuck, did he not tell him.” He looks to Ivan. 

“Trust that asshole to let us break the news.”

The news? Yuriy’s eyebrows almost reach his hairline. 

“Boris moved out yesterday.”

And Yuriy is too calm as he goes Oh, and finishes eating his food. 

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

And yuriy has a breakdown. He calls off of work and tears apart his room. He barely realizes why. Boris warned him. Boris gave him a choice. This is what he wanted. This is what he picked. 

-

And then it gets worse. 

Just a lot of sad boys. And then Boris enjoying life. And sad Yuriy who just reached a breaking point and doesn't care anymore. He lets himself cry. Lets himself feel things, because if he doesnt its going to explode out of him. He feels better after a cry. Yuriy doesnt understand how his heart can hurt like this. He wishes he could just claw it out of his chest. It hurts so fucking bad.

-

Boris finds an apartment astonishingly quick. He gets himself situated and tells Sergei and Ivan he’s leaving. it hurts saying goodbye. But he needs this. Needs the space. Needs to get far away from Yuriy and figure out his wants and his needs and find someone who will give them to him. Not someone who’s willing to stay stagnant forever. 

And that whole post moving out Boris, is him just using alcohol and sex to cope. He’s a virgin prior to this, but lordy, does alcohol calm his nerves. Havnet figured out how Boris and Kai end up being friendly enough prior to this, or if they become friends because of this. Boris moves out because he knows its going to hurt Yuriy, he wants it to. He isnt sure if its comparable to how he’s been feeling, but he hopes it is, and hopes its worse (yuriy would tell you its worse)

It pains him to have to hit up Hiwatari, but it means getting into clubs easier and knowing someone there. It’s fun to let loose and dance with pretty girls and Fit Guys. His hands on slim hips, and strong arms on his hips grinding against him. He feels wanted. It's refreshing. 

Hiwatari isn’t that bad either, Boris realizes. He pays for their table and the drinks, and always helps him home when he’s had too much to drink. Tell him who to avoid and who’s clean, whos a good fuck and who is awful in bed. Who will try and trap him with a kid. All good friend things. 

Boris ends up dancing with him one night, and between the lights, music and alcohol haze forgets who’s grinding their ass on his cock and considers taking him home that night. (He quickly remembers it’s Kai fucking Hiwatari, his has his hands on and discards that idea. 

Boris enjoys this month of bliss, forgetting Yuriy and living a life that’s normal for a 25 year old. He barely thinks of the redhead, except when he’s sober, and for that month he’s rarely sober except when he’s busy at work. 

He sees Sergei and Ivan when he knows Yuriy is busy, (who scold him for not even saying goodbye to Yuriy or telling him he was moving out and how fucked up it was having them tell him.). He tried to ignore how they tell him that Yuriy is struggling since he’s been gone. He’s not sleeping or eating. And not taking care of himself. 

And Boris pushes down the feelings that rise up his stomach to the back of his throat. And make him feel sick. Tried to ignore that what he’s doing is hurting Yuriy, the one he claimed he loved and wanted more with. 

He puts up a tough front in front of the others, he’s not sure how convincing it is. Sergei seems to buy it. Ivan not so much, when he says “well this is what Ivanov wanted. He didn’t want me so I left”

“You didn’t have to leave though. You could have stayed” Sergei says

“Do you have any idea how much it hurt me being in the house with him? I’m finally doing better. It’s not my problem that he’s suffering the consequences of his actions. You can’t ask me to hurt myself so he stops.” And he excuses himself. 

He dials up Hiwatari and tells him he needs to go out tonight and doesn’t want to be stopped unless they’re taking him away in an ambulance for alcohol poisoning. 

“It can be arranged. That bad huh? You see him again?”

“Bad yes. Saw Sergei and Ivan.”

“Be ready in an hour. I’ll pick you up.”

That night they both take someone home to Kai’s house, if you wanna call it that. Boris wakes up the next morning as the girl is pulling on her fishnets and boots. He finally gets a good look at her. Shes a tiny alt/emo girl with brightly dyed hair and more piercings than him. She flashes him a smile and thanks him for the good time, and that she hopes to see him at the club again. 

-

And they meet up several more times and start dating. Boris warning her that this is his first relationship and he’s trying and if he does something wrong it’s not on purpose it’s just all new. And she reassured him that he’s doing a great job and kisses him. She holds his hand. She cuddles with him. She’s soft with him and affectionate in ways he never knew he wanted. 

And it’s nice. It feels like something more than friends. Feels like what he’s always wanted. It’s so easy to fall into a groove of seeing her after he gets off from work. To spending nights at each other’s apartments. She insists it’s too soon to move in together. And he’s okay with that since they still sleep together almost every night. They go out clubbing together, dancing exclusively with one another. It’s lewd and he loves how he can openly express his feelings for her.

-

Until one day, there’s a soft knock on his apartment door. The girlfriend answers, and Boris can barely hear the exchange, until she comes skipping back into the living room that there’s somewhere at the door for him. And that itsa guy with redhair looking for him.

Yuriy looks meek and shy, shuffling in his doorway. He can barely make eye contact with Boris. He looks awful, too skinny, and tired, dark bags under his eyes. 

“Hey. You look good.” Yuriy comments, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“You look awful.” Boris replies. “Are you eating right? Sleeping?”

“I’m fine.” Yuriy insists, through a tight forced smile. 

And they talk and its so awkward and forced. The girlfriend comes bouncing back over kisses Boris on the cheek, saying she’ll be back after work, offering Yuriy a smile and saying its nice to meet him.

Yuriy’s face falls and he answers back, “I- ugh didn’t realize that you- I shouldn't have come. I'm sorry. I'm going to go.”

“You came here to talk though-”

“It was a mistake. I should have called first.”

Boris is left confused. Yuriy didn't want this, so he found a relationship elsewhere. How could he be upset? Yuriy goes home and rips apart his room again, punching a hole in his wall in the process. If he had known he wouldn't have gone. He didn't think Boris would have moved on.

-

Yuriy ends up phoning Kai. He’s not sure why. “You offered to hook up before, that offer still available?”

“Sure. I said I'd wine and dine you too, so get dressed up and we’ll get dinner first.” He hangs up before Yuriy can protest. 

Yuriy does not end up getting laid that night. Kai confronts him after dinner, “Sleeping with me would just be a fucked up form of self harm to you at this point. I'm assuming you heard that Boris is seeing someone and that’s why you wanted to meet up.”

“Why agree to take me out to dinner if you werent going to fuck me.” Kai shrugs, “Sergei said you haven’t been eating. Figured I’d at least trick you into getting some food into you. You look like shit.”

Yuriy glares at him, “So i’ve been told already today.”

“I was only half serious when I offered to hook up with you back then. I said it more to piss off Kuznetsov. IF you weren’t doing this as some kind of fucked up punishment, I would take you home.”

Yuriy/’s eyes narrow and he sips at his cocktail, “At least let me get drunk and forget my problems.”

“Gladly.”

Yuriy isn't sure when Kai turned into this caring individual who took care of people, but he finds himself that next morning tucked into his bed, not remembering much of what happened after or even getting home.

-

Months go by, with Yuriy barely taking care of himself. He misses Boris.Misses everything he took for granted.

Yuriy going to Boris and being like I know things are different now, but is there a chance for us to hang out again. So they do a Borg movie night. And Yuriy tries to ignore how Boris sits in a different spot. Swallows down burning feeling in his throat. Boris would always be embarrassingly close when they would watch movies together. Thigh pressed up against Yuriy’s and his arm wrapped around Yuriy’s neck, fingers brushing against his bicep.

Now Boris is five feet away on a different piece of furniture. At least at dinner he sits at his old seat next to Yuriy, and he can relax just a little, feeling comfortable enough to eat. 

Then Sergei is offering coffee and dessert and Boris passes up on the dessert, saying he’s trying to watch his weight and that his girlfriend is such a good cook and a stress baker, and that he’s put on ten pounds since they got together. Offhandedly saying its hard to want to go to the gym in the morning when shes next to him.

And Yuriy excuses himself from the table. He's going to be sick. He locks himself in the bathroom. He can't breathe and he honestly feels like the food he just ate is going to find its way outside of him.

He shoots Sergei a text that he cant do this. He cant he cant he cant. 

Yuriy composes himself the best he can and goes back into the kitchen. Excusing himself that he feels sick. That he ate too much.  He feels his face flush when Ivan even mentions it's nice to see him eat like a normal person for once, but not if he’s getting sick from it.

Yuriy hides himself in his room, and cries. Everything inside of him hurts and it radiates outside of him. He cant hold this inside of him anymore. Crying into his pillow.

His head telling him, he only has himself to blame. He didnt want Boris as a partner, so Boris found one. He did this to himself. If only he stepped up and faced his fears.

-

More time goes by. And more movie nights and game nights, and Boris starts bringing the girlfriend over, and Yuriy wants to hate her, but she is so nice to him, and he feels awful being cold towards her. (Hates seeing her make Boris laugh and happy, but he fights that feeling back). Seeing Boris still hurts, but it gets easier. 

A scene somewhere, where Yuriy is telling Boris, he didn't want things to change, because he didn't want to lose Boris, but it still happened. This wasnt how things were supposed to be. This was supposed to save them. They would always be close, always have each other. He was scared to lose him, and it happened anyway. And he starts crying, he doesn't even feel embarrassed anymore crying, even crying in front of someone.

-

And this is like the turning point, where things start to change and aren’t so sad.

-

Boris and his girlfriend will be cuddling after sex, and of all times to say something, she’s like, “Boris, be honest with me. You love him.”

??

Yuriy, you love him.

Boris is still confused, Yes, I love him and Sergei and Ivan.

Borya. You love him.

I love you, *insert whatever her name will be*

Yes, but not in the way you love him. You love me because of how I am. What I give to you. He couldn't do what I do. 

“He didn’t want this. Want me.” Boris replies.

“I love you Boris, and I know you love me, just not in the way I want you to. You’re the best boyfriend I’ve had, and honestly some of the best sex I’ve had. I care about you so much that I think, though, that we should end this. Go be with Yuriy-

No. He doesn't want me.

I Think that’s changed.

They go back and forth, until she’s like, We don't have to break up. I don't plan on leaving if we do. I just want you to be happy. Boris promises that he will at least talk to Yuriy, and she kisses him on the head, and gets in the shower. 

-

Boris arranges a meeting with Yuriy, who is starting to look human again. THe bags under his eyes are less dark, and his cheekbones aren't threatening to cut through his skin. He seems nervous, his eyes shifting around, like he’s expecting something, and then it dawns on him.

“She’s not here Yura, it’s just us.” Yuriy seems to calm down if only for a minute before the nickname has him looking funny again. Boris hesitates before reaching across the table and grabs for Yuriy’s hand. He’s half expecting Yuriy to retract his hand or pull back

“Can we talk? We haven’t talked in a long time.”

Yuriy nods slowly, looking down at Boris’ hand. 

Boris says that his girlfriend broke up with him, which is the simplest way of putting it, because of Yuriy. That Boris is still in love with Yuriy. He loved the girlfriend, but loved that she did everything he wished Yuriy would have done. That he still wants to be with Yuriy.

Yuriy is too stunned to speak initially and then he’s like, but you two were so happy. 

She called it off, because she knew i was in love with you, and that you were in love with me. She said she couldnt sit back and let that happen. 

-

And then the lord said let there be fluff. They date! Yuriy feels awkward and embarrassed doing PDA. And he’s anxious and nervous that he’ll do something wrong, but Boris is always beaming when Yuriy holds his hand in public, and how proud he is that Yuriy is trying so hard to give him what he wants.

(also the ex-gf does corner him, and is like im happy you two are figuring things out, but if you fuck this up, I’m not going to give him up a second time. And yuriy’s like i don’t plan it.)

—--

[solecize]

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

remember lookin' at this room, we loved it 'cause of the light now, i just sit in the dark and wonder if it's time ten years of being one and the same with jungkook as the country's it couple is the perfect disguise for the reality of a tumultuous relationship hidden behind the scenes. ten years of lies and love and crawling back to one another. once shy, budding first love that blossomed before the weight of fame, the cracks begin to surface amidst your respective rises to stardom and navigation of your twenties. either finding euphoria or the end of the world, there's never any in between in existence for you and jungkook. as you build each other up and break each other down in front of millions of eyes, there is a crossroads ahead with words of "marriage" and "military" looming in the air - all while ignoring the price of fame breathing down your necks. this is the story of love and the lessons learned from the man you made your religion. and i wouldn't marry me either, a pathological people-pleaser who only wanted you to see her

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: idol!jungkook/female idol!reader and fictional versions of various idols 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. idol au, on-and-off relationship, angst, i swear there's fluff, (brief) fake dating and themes of first love, growing up, struggles with fame, and marriage (ish) 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. portrayal of a toxic couple (implications of emotional abuse and control), both main characters are very flawed, addiction, violence, infidelity, foul language, substance use (illegal drugs), underage drinking, mentions of the covid-19 pandemic, sexually suggestive content 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. based off of "you're losing me" by taylor swift. this is a fictional portrayal of real-life people that implement some aspects of real-life events. the series is told in non-chronological order. note that the main character is a member of a fictional idol group. more warnings may be added as the story is written. join the taglist here!

extra. playlist. one - "the confrontation"    ㅤㅤㅤㅤyou welcome your boyfriend back to the country with a surprise party, just as the clock is ticking to say goodbye again. the big day is almost here and enlistment brings couples either one of two things: a ring or a breakup.  two - "first love in a convenience store"    ㅤㅤㅤㅤback when you were fifteen year old idol trainees, jeon jungkook shares ricecakes with you and steals your heart. as sixteen year old rookies with everything to lose, he steals your first kiss. in present day, these memories fade away until they are no longer recognizable. three - "teenage dreams"    ㅤㅤㅤㅤyoung love blossoms even in the harshest of light, as you and jungkook navigate career milestones together. also known as: the first concert tours, the first time you're put on a variety show together and everyone figures out your relationship, and jungkook's first daesang. four - "hotel azure"    ㅤㅤㅤㅤa party at the notorious hotel azure, the hot-spot for the top names of south korea's entertainment industry, goes awry. in front of everyone, your relationship reaches it's breaking point - except, it doesn't. five - "2017"    ㅤㅤㅤㅤa year of a death of a thousand cuts because, no matter what comes your way, saying goodbye is never an option. 

[amirasainz]

Could you write where baby!sainz is a performer like Beyoncé or Megan Thee Stallion and she just went on tour and one of her songs she gives out a lap dance and one of the younger drivers (Lance/Logan/Zhou/Oscar) is the one getting lap dance and everyone else is jealous

Or since Lando has filmed a couple of videos with the sidemen maybe one of the boys flirt with her or get her in a sidemen Sunday where they’re her butlers for a day/week or they’re doing a 20 vs 1 and the boys are apart of the 20 and they’re wives/gfs are fangirling

Hope those made sense

Sooo, I never saw Megan Thee Stallion's performance. However, I adjusted things, so.....Enjoy!!! Let me know if you have any whishes!

-XoXo

No Part 2!!!

She's dancing like a stripper

Oscar couldn't believe it. Bright lights blinded him, the screams of the thousands of fans making his ears ring. The metal chair he was sitting on was vibrating from the guitar bass. Everything was starting to become too much, when his vision was filled with an angel. She was starring at him, a playful smile on her lips. Instead of wearing her sparkly dress, she now wore a skimpy outfit. Her high-heels brought her closer to him, her hands landing softly on his shoulders.

"Sidney, are you ready for the final?" Amira asked, turning her upper body towards the screaming crowd. The yelled so loud, that Amira slightly winced from the volume. "Because this was such an requested song, I will now sing "Favourite". But as you all know, this song has a special dance as well. And who could help me better, than our home-boy Oscar?" The crowd went wilde. They all knew that "special dance" was just a sweeter term for lap dance.

When the music picked up, Oscar's hands started sweating. Amira slowly lowered herself on his lap, his veiny hands immediately landing on her tights. When she started rocking herself on his lap, a low groan left his lips. Amira's hands brought his head closer to her breast. Before he could get too lost in his thoughts, Amira went of his lap.

She walked three steps away from him, some pf her backup dancers following her. She fell on her knees, spreading her legs. Two of her backup dancers, Sarah and Cheyenne, touched her body from behind. Sarah was busy touching her upper body, while Cheyenne ran her hands on the inside of her tights. Both of the girls brought their heads closer to the girl. Because their breaths tickled her, she had to laugh slightly.

When the refrain started, she crawled on her hands a bit, giving Oscar the perfect view of her ass. She lied on her upper body, ass in the air, when she turned on her back. Amira arched her back, spreading her legs once again. 'God, she's killing me here' was Oscars only thought. He gripped the armrest tightly when he saw Amira approaching again.

This time she sat down on his lap with her back turned towards his. She brought one of his hands very, very close to her privat parts, while she brought the other one on her neck. Her hand fisted his hair, brining him to her neck. Before he could stop himself, Oscar started kissing her neck. He slowly trailed his lips to her cheeks, moaning quietly in her ear. After a moment he realised that her hip movement spelled the word "coconut". God, this girl was truly something else.

When the song neared his end, Amira turned her face to Oscar, Their lips where close to touching. Before something more could happen, the roar of the crowd interrupted their little moment. Amira got up and smiled at all of the fans. She turned to Oscar, hugging him and whispering her thanks. With a Ferrari red face, Oscar left the stage. He really needed a cold shower now.

Bonus (+)

"No, this is unfair. This is so fucking unfair" muttered Logan, his eyes fixed on the couple on stage. Lando was standing next to him, his mouth agape. How the fuck did his teammate get so lucky? Shouldn't he, as the older one of the two, be the one to receive the lap dance? Charles, George, Alex and Pierre were busy filming the whole thing for their girlfriends, while also enjoying the show. Yuki as well enjoyed the show, while snacking on some crisps. All of them were so intrudged that they let out some noise of complaint when the show ended. After a moment, George stated: "Thank fuck that Carlos is sick today", receiving nods from the others.

[pinescent-and-gingerbread]

࣪ ˖✧ The Jackpot

✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader ✦ Summary: You join Arthur and the boys for a job on the Grand Korrigan riverboat where you act as Arthur’s lap girl. The man in question is more than excited about this decision. ✦ Warnings: Guns, mention of shooting, swearing, SMUT, oral (reader receiving), edging if you squint, unprotected p in v ✦ Words: 3,8k ✦ a/n: A big heartwarming thank you to @zae-heeyyy!! Who took the time to correct my dumb spelling and give me her thoughts on this before publishing it! Please go check her work, I swear it won't disappoint! Also: pictures are not mine! I usually try to use a pic for Arthur from my own playthrough but I'm fcking stuck on Guarma rn. Found them on Pinterest.

Dim lights are flickering all around you, making the golden ornaments of the luxurious place you're in shine like a thousand stars. You couldn't believe this gigantic reception room, gratified by a bar, a grand piano, and of course, three elegant poker tables, was actually floating on water right now, as you were on the Grand Korrigan boat, the jewel of its kind, den of the richest gentlemen in St. Denis, in search for some amusement and of course, even more money.

Trelawny and Herr Strauss had plotted a well-crafted deal that could earn a lot of money for the gang. Along with Javier disguised as one of the guards, Arthur would act as a new wealthy businessman who had just made a fortune in oil. Strauss would give him signals during his poker game, which guaranteed him to win considering Trelawny had made a friend out of the dealer.

You? You'd play his mistress, sitting on his lap during the game to make the scene look more convincing. On top of that, you had been able to hide a little gun in a hidden pocket in the underside of your dress, guaranteeing some extra protection, which wasn't a bad idea considering the Grand Korrigan was heavily armed and neither Arthur, Trelawny nor Strauss had one.

So here you were, thriving in your role, comfortably sitting on Arthur's lap, hands wrapped around his neck, both legs hanging on his left side. His arms were enveloping you, hands resting on the edge of the table as he was focusing on his cards.

Well, more like trying to focus, actually.

Maybe it was because you two had started a quite passionate relationship a few weeks ago, sneaking in each other's tent, simple kisses and whispers in the night quickly turning into something more, the both of you having cravings to fulfill.

Maybe it was because Trelawny, the damned man, had chosen a particularly suggestive dress for you to wear, comforting your play considering wives weren't allowed at the poker tables, only work girls and such, your cleavage on full display for his immoral eyes.

Maybe it was the way he could feel the round and warm flesh of your ass even through the fabric of your clothes, right where he wanted to, making his brain impossible to function properly, desperately trying to keep the hardness between his legs to stay in line.

Either way, Arthur had to make enormous efforts to focus on the job and was frankly relieved Strauss was telling him what to do; despite being a pretty good poker player, he would never have been able to win the easiest of games in this state.

Strauss told him to go all-in. He did. You smiled, you would have lied saying you weren't enjoying yourself right now. You had known far worse jobs than playing Arthur's lover. Much to your surprise, he had played a really convincing character through the night too, his usual mumbling far gone, replaced by a bright and confident speech and a cheeky grin that was making you want to kiss it even more. In fact, you wanted to take care of him just to see this cocky smirk flatter under your touch, replaced by a pleasured expression on his handsome face.

It was easy to say both of you were acting pretty good, but inside felt like two teenagers in love.

Arthur had won another hand, men were starting to leave the table, angry. It was only you both and the target now, an opulent man known as Desmond Blythe, loaded with money thanks to his hosiery business.

You pulled a cigarette out of Arthur's pocket along with a match, and you felt his breath hitch for an instant when you slipped your hand in it. Rubbing the match against the wood of the table, you lighted the cigarette casually, little flame illuminating a thin grin on your lips. You took a small drag on it to make sure the tobacco had plainly burnt, then you placed the cigarette in front of Arthur's lips, holding it for him between your index and middle finger, so that he could smoke on it while keeping both his hands on his cards.

It was downright one of the hottest things anybody had done to him and he was starting to lose it. Wrapping his lips around your offering and smoking a long drag, he allowed himself to avert his gaze from his opponent for a few seconds, planting his turquoise pupils into yours.

His eyes were half-lidded, long lashes accentuating the languorous gaze he was giving you. Your heart started racing. The power this man had on you was insane, but if only you knew what you were doing to him in return. You had a glimpse of it though, right there in the depths of his two blue diamonds, this so distinctive dark glow of him, direct window on the sinful pit of his urges.

You were sure your own eyes were mirroring it. And it got worse when, after exhaling some smoke, he quickly kissed the palm of your hand, indicating he had smoked enough, the warm sensation of his chapped lips on your skin giving you goosebumps. His eyes went back to Blythe, and you exhaled as if you had been holding your breath during the whole time you had locked eyes.

You retrieved your hand, taking a drag yourself on the cigarette after him, loving the idea of sharing it with him, of putting your lips right where he did a few seconds before, your biased brain telling you you could taste sweet remnants of him there.

Another all-in, another hand won by Arthur who couldn't stop himself from smiling this sly cocky smirk, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Shit, shit!" Blythe shouted, hitting on the table with his fists furiously.

"I guess ma luck held... Is that you done?" Arthur asked him, his tone triumphant while bending over the table to gather his not-so-well-deserved chips. "Or, do you got somethin' else to play with?" He added more lowly, his baritone voice almost making you shiver just hearing it.

"Meaning?" Desmond questioned back, visibly frustrated. Looked like frustration was a popular feeling around this poker table tonight, about the game or other things...

Arthur had gotten up from his chair and you too, now standing by his side, partially glued to his body as he had snaked an arm around your waist while finishing to put in order his chips. He answered using the same taunting, arrogant tone as before.

"Well, I heard there was some big boys on this boat, maybe that's not you, no offense-"

"Sit your and your whore's hillbilly asses down." The rich men cut him off, voice dark and serious.

You felt Arthur's hand grip tighter on your waist. For a faint moment, you thought that his cover would collapse, considering how tense he had gotten hearing him calling you a whore. But the way he was still smiling was almost even more scary, it was a false, threatening one. The kind of smile that hides a cold anger, boiling silently inside.

"Why?" Arthur simply answered, tone brilliantly contained considering the way his muscles were flexing on their own under his fancy suit.

"I got a watch... An expensive one, swiss... a Reutlinger no less. It's in the safe, upstairs. It's worth more than you."

You forced yourself not to cross eyes with Arthur. Your target. He had just confirmed what you were all here for. Perfect, just a bit more of this whole play and Arthur would be able to access the strongbox.

"Okay, I trust ya." Arthur consented while sitting back on his chair, placing you with his two big hands back at your place, on his lap. You were definitely loving this job. You'd have to thank Trelawny for it, someday.

The rest of the game passed just like before, your outlaw ultimately winning once more thanks to your colleague's little trick. Desmond was furious, and you obtained your goal.

Arthur happily got up once again, gently helping you stand, one of his hands naturally resting on your shoulder. Before following the gentleman who was supposed to bring him to the safe, he bent over to you, head brushing against yours, his stubble and hairs tickling your cheeks. He whispered in your ear, voice deep and hoarse, this one voice that was always making your head turn.

"When we're finished here, I'm gonna take care of ya, darlin'."

You sighed, cracking up a sly smirk, your cheeks turning a bit red. These simple words were enough to make the heat between your thighs make itself known; crying out for attention. Being so close like this was allowing you to breathe in his scent, its combination on top of his breath on your ear was a dangerous mix for your sanity. You took the opportunity of having his skin so close to your lips to place a small kiss on his neck, right below his own ear.

Arthur smiled at you, his bright blue eyes sparkling as he took a last look at you before walking off. You sighed softly again, already missing his presence. The wait for some time alone was only making your own needs grow.

You were only hoping the job would end up smoothly.

Of course, it didn't. 

Desmond, sore loser, had accused Arthur of cheating. That and the fact that the guard Javier had knocked off to steal his clothes had appeared out of nowhere yelling to shoot him had set things on fire on the Grand Korrigan, the boat now witness to a heated shooting the Van Der Linde Gang was known for.

You had instantly pulled out your hidden gun and helped Arthur clean up the place thanks to Javier who had thrown him a rifle. The night had ended with your incongruous team jumping straight in the water, swimming back to the shore, a quite odd and armed to the teeth fish shoal. At least, everyone was alive, and you even had obtained a pretty decent amount of money, not even mentioning the watch Strauss had authenticated as a real Reutlinger. Arthur had quickly taken back the precious object from his greedy hands, "well give it back then", which made you laugh to yourself.

True to himself, your cowboy had instructed everyone to separate and get out of the shore, as always after a job. You were all quite a sight, soaked to the bones. As you were greeting everyone a good night, Arthur silently walked to you and grabbed your hand. Even with the water you both had leaking from your clothes to your skin, you could feel how warm his hand was, contrasting yours which was completely freezing cold from having swam in the icy waters. You wondered if this man was even human.

"But you, Miss, are comin' with me." He playfully informed you, not leaving you any choice.

It was not as if you wanted to go anywhere else anyway.

"Really now? What d'ya have in mind, cowboy?" You asked him with an equally mischievous tone on your own, your eye glued to the way his hair looked completely soaked, subtle rivulets sliding all the way from it to his neck.

"Maybe we could pay ourselves a well-deserved night in town..." He proposed, voice turning more and more into a low growl as he was letting his desires take the lead on his reason.

"I would love that." You simply agreed, before getting closer to him, tilting your head up to bring your lips to his. He gladly let you, one hand still holding yours, the other gently landing on the side of your face.

The walk to the La Bastille Saloon was supposed to be a short one, but you both looked like you couldn't wait to be there before teasing each other. You would sometimes stop walking to just attack his neck, lips merciless as you sucked and kissed him there. Your taunting acts were often met with his equally heated answer, one of his palms ending on your ass, or your thighs, your wet clothes transparent and glued to your curves not helping him to keep his touch away from these places of your body. Arthur's breath sharpened as he called you his lil minx, and no, darlin’, we can't just do it on the streets.

Finally, after having shocked the barman by arriving at such late hours in completely soaked clothes, which honestly just made the both of you laugh mischievously, you reached your love nest for the night.

And what a nest! Silk sheets, canopy bed, sumptuous decor glistening with the dim lights of the chandeliers. Even the floor looked comfortable, carpeted with some fancy patterns, matching the couch and bed's color. Red, just like passion, just like lust. Red, like the color of your cheeks right now as Arthur had closed the door and was already on his knees, placing you on the edge of the mattress. Red, just like what Arthur was seeing right now, hungry hands pulling your dress up, positioning himself between your thighs.

You looked down at him, his darkened eyes looking at you. You noticed he had ripped off his fancy tie, needing to breathe properly, the heat between you both already making him suffocate. In those moments, his beautiful pupils were always shining with a more murky color, his usual sky blue turning into a more cobalt one. They were staring intensely into yours, expression questioning. A silent demand. You nodded positively, quietly answering. Dooming yourself.

The moment you did, he buried his head between your legs, left hand resting on your hip, holding you gently. His lips started kissing softly on the fabric of your undergarments. His other hand quickly came, helping him in his task by pulling it to the side, granting him access.

The moment his lips met your folds, you let out a moan, unable to resist the feeling he was giving you. He was loving it, his ears getting redder as he was more and more aroused himself. He was so big between your thighs, his shoulders were spreading them almost completely open.

He licked in a long, slow movement all the way to the top of your pussy, making you sigh in pleasure already, hips jerking against his head, begging for more.

"Easy, girl... I've got ya." He soothed you hoarsely, left hand holding you more firmly to prevent you from crushing him totally. Nevertheless, he took your eagerness into account; he couldn't deny you anything. Not when it came to sex. Not when you were so beautiful in this ostentatious dress. Not when he had grown more and more found of you, even if he was refusing to admit it to himself completely for now.

He brought his lips on the top of your core, tongue gently circling around this so special knot of nerves, his stubble scratching pleasantly against your skin, bringing you even more sensations.

It was already so good, Arthur's mouth showing you no pity, licking, sucking, kissing, as if you were becoming the only food he could ever feast on, the only oxygen he could breathe with. The sight of his broken nose buried beneath your skin, as if he was searching to go even deeper within you was almost too much for you to handle. Your hands that were gripping the sheets had now found the top of his head, spurring him to continue, please please please, Arthur, more, or you could have died right here on the fancy bed of the La Bastille Saloon.

Arthur's tongue answered your begging call, lapping your sensitive spot faster, harder. How the Hell was that man so good at pleasuring a woman? That, sinful, dirty man, just like the sounds you were letting out right now.

Your vision started to blur, the back of your head sinking onto the mattress, your back arching deliciously, and you were going to let him know just how close you were until he stopped all of a sudden.

"A-Arthur!" You protested, head snapping back at him, eyes pleading, tone both offended and needy as his name had sounded more like a whine when it had felt from your mouth.

He smiled cockily at you from where he was, his mouth looking wet with your arousal. He loved it, he loved being responsible for it.

"I'm here, girl... I jus' need ya too much right now. Lemme just..."

His voice was now a low rumble, coming from the depth of his chest. You watched as he quickly ripped off his clothes with little care for them. Trelawny would have shouted at how he was treating one of the most expensive suits he had ever brought.

But he didn't care about the suit. And neither do you, as your eyes were devouring every inch of his flesh that was appearing under them. The sight of a completely naked Arthur always had the same effect on you, no matter how many times you already had seen it.

His muscular body looked like it had been carved by Angels. No, more likely by an angry, dark God, who would have sculpted him from a hard and brutal material, his many scars and blurs a remnant of it. You could almost picture his tools molding your lover's broad chest and shoulders with sharp, furious hammer blows. His powerful arms and legs had received the same treatment, as if the deity wanted to pass on all of his brutal force into his creation. And his cock was definitely no exception to it.

And yet, this massive force of nature was blushing under your gaze. He couldn't have resisted the hurtful sensation of emptiness around his shaft, one of his hands now giving himself a few strokes to try and relieve some of it. His eyes closed in a frown for a few seconds, your pussy burned at this unholy scenery he was offering you.

You were in such a state of need it was almost depraved. You quickly got rid of your own clothes, tossing them somewhere on the floor of the room, needing to share this intimacy with him, to feel his skin against yours.

"Oh, please... Arthur, jus' take me..." You asked yourself before he could probe your adequation. You knew him well now, you already knew the next words he was going to speak would be another demand to make sure you truly wanted this.

He seemed to enjoy how you had forecasted it, his eyes opening again to look at you, his cock hardening even more, precum slowly leaking from its top, wasting all the efforts he had done to relieve it a bit.

"If that's what you want darlin'... I'm your man." He answered in a growl, climbing next to you on the bed.

You weren't sure why but his last words had made your heart swell in your chest. You were sure, deep down inside of you, that he meant it in another way. He really had become yours, and you, his. Lost in your thoughts, you let him handle you gently, placing you on your belly against the silk sheets, lying himself on top of you, legs between yours.

You slightly moved your rear up against his erection, earning a grunt of pleasure from him. Saying he had loved it was an understatement; he had been thinking about doing this with you since you had sat on him on the riverboat.

Using his right hand, he placed his cock against your entrance, and finally started pushing, your pussy already ready for him thanks to his ministrations, your mouth mewling at the sensation. Your perfect, hot walls were finally enveloping him, and he tried his best not to come just from that intense feeling alone.

He was so big and tall behind you, his head could reach yours and he buried it onto the crook of your neck, his hair still wet offering you a cold feel, contrasting with his whole hot chest pressed on your back, making you feel as if a literal inferno was burning it. He slowly started to pull back, only to shove himself in you again, starting a slow but intense back and forth.

"God, damn it... 'Feel so good girl..." He mumbled against your skin, his arms encircling you from both sides, caging you under his tall figure.

You sighed at his praise, wanting to answer something to compliment him back, but he snapped his hips just at the same time, making you shut your eyes close, and moan louder than before. Your voice was starting to crack under the amount of pleasure he was bringing to you, hard shaft brushing this deep spot within your core every time his hips moved, hitting just right where you needed him to.

He had noticed, and it was only making him lose his mind even more, unable to keep his pace slow, letting his body unleashed. He had waited this whole night to bury himself in you, listened to this moron calling you names without having the right to punch his goddamn idiotic face. He couldn't hold anything back anymore.

He started thrusting more frantically, pistoning his cock in and out of you so fast and hard he was now fucking you onto the bed. His right hand grabbed a fistful of your ass, the feeling of it colliding with his pelvis with every thrust making him insane, the other one next to your left shoulder, preventing him from crushing you completely.

You could feel it, the familiar feeling, the divine relief, building more and more thanks to him, the pace increasing your pleasure. Feeling how impossibly hard his sex had gotten in your cunt, you knew he was close too. This simple fact was the last push to your deliverance.

"A-Arthur! God, yes!" You screamed, unable to form any coherent thoughts, existing simply for this, for this moment with him, naked on the bed of this saloon. Just you and him.

"Oh, darlin’, shit!" Your orgasm had made your walls clench even more around his dick, exploding his limit. He quickly removed himself from you, and finished at the last second on your back and ass, his burning release painting your skin in flaming spurts. His very own sinful art piece.

The room felt silent again. The air stifling from your lovemaking, the only sounds being heard were your sharp, quickened breaths. Arthur took a few seconds to collect himself, feeling better and so satisfied, almost euphoric. Turning your head to the side, you took a glimpse of your lover's gorgeous state. Hair messy, cheeks and ears crimson, sweat dripping everywhere on his skin, chest rising and falling in big, profound exhales.

He then grabbed a piece of fabric from one of the wardrobes to gently wipe off his seed from you, and tossed it away, wanting nothing more but to rest against you now. A perfect contrast, from an agitated, stormy sea to a quiet, secret cove. As if you were the only one who could see him like this, vulnerable, loving even.

You watched him lay by your side on his back, your head still feeling dizzy, slowly coming back from a world of fantasies. You snuggled against him, resting your head on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around you, feeling spent but so, so happy. And you felt the same. Still naked, skin against skin, heart beating together, just the two of you.

Tonight had been quite something, and despite having won a few thousand dollars, it was definitely not money that was making Arthur feel like he had hit the jackpot.

[rememberwren]

A Dichotomy of Thought || 1

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Further Parts You move next door to a disabled veteran and his troubled partner.

Warnings and details: disabled!Johnny; established Ghoap future Ghoap/reader; domestic abuse (not Ghoap); heavy themes of suicide, violence, abuse, poor coping mechanisms, prescription drugs. I’m not sure if I have anything here, let me know if anyone is interested in this series.

#

A helicopter goes down in the mountains of Kazakhstan and it takes a piece of Soap with it. They never recovered the arm—nor the three service members who lost more than their arms in the crash. The thought is one that Johnny’s mind cycles back to often, in moments of quiet or while he lies awake at night feeling tremors in an arm that’s no longer attached. Suddenly he’ll wonder: what are those bones up to, buried in snow and ice so deep the sun will never touch them again? Do they miss me?

Fuck, he misses them.

#

After the accident, the world is very black and white. Mostly it’s black. Blackness at the edge of his vision threatens to creep in when he stands too long, when he stands on his own, when he turns his head too fast. Anytime his blood pressure rises over that Goldilocks number of 120/80, it threatens to drop him faster than Simon used to during their first weeks of training together in the 141.

The doctors say that he’s a miracle. The traumatic brain injury had his brain swelling and pushing at the confines of his skull like water freezing in a bottle. Give him a little longer in the cold and maybe his cap would blow off. Except it hadn’t; he was still dealing with swelling all over: in his thalamus, his hypothalamus, in his cerebrum, all the words he’d never bothered to learn in school and couldn’t fucking remember now no matter how hard he tries. He gets the point. Simon does too. Johnny should be dead.

Instead he just wishes he were.

Even now, when he can remember his name and Simon’s and even (more often than not) the name of the waitress who serves them chicken and waffles at the local diner every Saturday, there are still more bad days than good. Still more darkness than light. Still more nights waking up to the sound of helicopter blades slowing, the relentless hum becoming a deafening chop chop chop like the thrum of his heartbeat. There’s that moment of weightlessness when the helicopter goes down and he has yet to go with it that makes him wake in a cold sweat, nauseous and looking for something to be sick in.

Through it all, Simon is there. Simon is the light. He’d laugh if he heard Johnny say that—though a laugh is probably too generous. Simon doesn’t laugh much these days. Not when he spends three fourths of his time taking care of Johnny and the other fourth thinking about how better to take care of Johnny. If it weren’t for Simon, Johnny would have done himself in by now. There’s a thousand ways to do it; plenty of arms and munitions in the apartment they share together. Or there are the pain pills, if he wanted it to look like an accident. A few too many of those and he could crawl right through that darkness in his vision and find out what’s on the other side. As soon as the thought crosses his mind (and it crosses his mind more often than that fucking chicken crosses the road), the guilt comes, like anyone and everyone can read it on his mind: his mama rest her soul, Simon, Jesus on the cross. After all of the work that has gone into him, into saving his broken body and mind, into rehabilitating him, how can he even think of throwing in the towel?

Turns out it’s pretty fucking easy to think about it.

As a matter of fact, he’s thinking about it the first time he meets you, when you nearly do the job for him.

It’s spring, cool, and he’s working up a goddamn sweat anyway. Simon stands in the alleyway, smoking and pretending not to watch as Johnny hobbles up and down the length of the parking lot with his forearm crutch. His armpit throbs. His knee throbs. His head throbs as he continues along, beating out a strange little rhythm on the concrete—thum-thump, thum-thump, thum-thump. He says all the curse words he knows and dreams up a few new ones too. It’s supposed to be getting easier, but Simon just pushes him harder to make up for the ground he covers. That’s one of the shitty parts about loving an ex-military man; he never goes easy on you.

Johnny’s thinking about the tub upstairs, just big enough for him if he curls in on himself. Sometimes a hot bath helps the knots in his muscles, but sometimes when Simon leaves the room to get a washcloth Johnny will slip beneath the surface of the water and see how long he can hold his—

Then you come out of absolutely nowhere in your shitty little four-door and nearly hit him. As a matter of fact, you do hit his crutch, sending it sprawling out of his hand and sending him clattering to the ground on his bad side. For a moment, he thinks: this is it. This is how I die. Not in a helicopter in Kazahkstan but here, now, today, and he can’t tell if it’s relief in his belly or regret. Then your tires squeal like pigs on the pavement, the smell of burnt rubber thick in the air, and he is face to face with you and your horror, close enough that the air from your hasty turn brushes along his body and sends his heart pounding.

“What the steaming bloody fucking Jesus do you think you’re doing?” he finds himself shouting, pain lancing all along his side from his fake knee to the stump of his arm. Simon is there all at once, cigarette abandoned to smolder to ash in the alleyway, putting his hands under Johnny’s armpits and lifting him like a child even when he yelps in pain like a kicked dog. Johnny leans against him heavily. The edges of his vision are turning black. He bangs his fist against the hood of your car. “Did Jesus send ye? Did He tell ye to finish the fucking job and do me in? ‘That’s the cunt right there, beam him with your car’? Did he tell you that?”

You reluctantly get out of the car, not even wearing a goddamn seatbelt. The car’s soft, insistent alarm begins to remind you with unending politeness that the door is open and your seatbelt is off while you stand there, pallid, eyes huge and watering in the face of Johnny’s shouts.

He sees then that one of your eyes is swollen almost completely shut, blood turning the white sclera pink like the fine mist of blood over the snow when they finally pulled Johnny free from the helicopter. No wonder you didn’t see him coming, with a single functioning eye. He’s opened his mouth to tell you so (and to tell you a dozen other fucking things) when he nearly swoons, the rug of the world being tugged under his feet by the hand of God.

Simon slips a firmer arm around Johnny’s waist.

A man gets out of the passenger side. He begins to berate you for not paying attention, for nearly killing Johnny. Johnny agrees, but is annoyed all the same. He’s the one who almost died; leave the shouting to him.

“I’m so sorry,” you choke out, tears dripping near-constant from your eyes. “I’m an idiot. I’m so sorry. Let me get your—”

“Done enough, haven’t you?” Simon asks cooly. It sends you reeling back into the car where you sit with both hands over your mouth, chest hitching with your panicked sobs.

“Hey, is he, like, okay?” your partner asks.

“Fuck off,” Simon says, deftly ushering Johnny over one shoulder and holding the crutch in the other. He carries them back to the elevators without breaking a sweat, and Johnny cries on his shoulder from the pain of it, the sheer embarrassment of it the whole way home. The day before Kazahkstan he couldn’t have been able to tell you the last time he cried; now he cries every fucking day from one reason or another.

“I’m fine,” Johnny says when they make it back to the apartment and Simon eases him down into a chair. They arrange his knee in the one position that has it throbbing less, but then Johnny bats Simon’s hands away. “Go. I’m fine. I don’t need you hoverin’ over me.”

“Alright.”

“Fuck off with yer alright.”

Simon doesn’t say anything. Johnny hears his footsteps leading toward the bedroom they share—hardly a bedroom, how long has it been since they slept there together peacefully? Since they fucked? Johnny can tell you how long it’s been. Since before things went black and white. The footsteps stop then.

“You stepped in front of her, Johnny,” Simon says, his voice low but not quiet enough to count as a whisper. “I watched you do it. Don’t think you’re so fucking slick.”

He shuts the bedroom door behind him.

[stylesispunk]

"I couldn't want you anymore"

artist! Joel Miller x florist!f! Reader

series masterlist | prologue | next | materlist

summary: when Sarah's mom comes back into Joel's life to fight for their past relationship, Joel needs to convince her he is in a happy relationship with the florist next to his gallery in order to make her go away. The problem is, that he and the florist can't stand each other's guts or that it's what he thinks.

warning: no warnings for now and age gap ( reader is 28 and Joel 36).

a/n: okay!! This chapter is out earlier than it was planned but is not a longe one so.. welcome haha. I hope you enjoy the first stop of this journey 👀 Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. happy reading 💌 also remember, english is not my first language so if sometimes everything sounds stupid, blame my brain and the mix of three languages there

Bee or annoying bee. That’s how Joel had referred to you since the day he laid his eyes on you for the first time when he saw you surrounded by a thousand flowers. 

You arrived here on a Monday morning exactly four years ago. At first, Joel thought you were one of the cutest people he had ever seen in his then 31 years of life. Even when you were the complete opposite of him in every way. Meanwhile, Joel was organized, you were spontaneous and messy and people around town seemed to love you for it. You were nice to everyone, to Sarah, and even to his brother, but to Joel, you were completely closed off. Yes, you smiled at him weakly every once in a while or even asked him about his day, but your smile never reached your eyes, you were simply polite and everything else. So, since that day, Joel decided he didn’t like you.

He didn’t like the flowers you sent to his daughter on special days, neither did he like the flowers you sent to him every time he had a new exhibition in his art gallery, and he didn’t like it when your flower shop also became a little coffee shop for people passing by. He simply didn’t like anything coming from you. 

You made him feel weird in the stomach, and he didn’t like that feeling.

And now, Joel didn’t know why he was in this position. He wanted to slap himself once he told his ex or how he liked to call her, the woman who birthed Sarah, that you were his girlfriend. In his defense, he was desperate at that moment He wasn't thinking straight and you were the first person who came to his sight at that moment. He only knew he didn't want the woman who abandoned him with a tiny baby years ago, back into his life.

So, once you were left speechless at the "This is my girlfriend" statement, he reached for you immediately with the promise he was going to tell you everything, so you left the gallery in peace but not without sending daggers at Joel.

After that, Joel invited Lauren into his gallery, desperately trying to find a way to convince her that he had moved on from them. He wasn't the same naive person he had been back then. But she was determined to rekindle their relationship and see Sarah in order to become the family they were meant to be, and she wouldn't take no for an answer.

"Joel, I understand that you've moved on with your life. But Sarah deserves to know her mother, and I want to be there for her."

Joel nodded; his heart heavy with the weight of their shared history. "I want what's best for Sarah too," he said, "but it's not that simple. You broke my heart when you left us alone.” 

Lauren reached out and placed a hand on his arm, a gesture of reconciliation. "Joel, I'm not asking for your forgiveness right now. I just want a chance to be a part of Sarah's life” she said. “And maybe now that we’re both grown adults, we can make it work between us.” 

“I told you I have a girlfriend” he lied again, trying to escape from this particular situation.

“The one who left?” she scoffed “You need a woman, Joel. Not an annoying girl” 

Joel didn’t utter a word, but for the first time since he met you, he felt the need to stand up for you.

A few hours later, after the crazy events from earlier in the morning, Joel found himself standing outside your flower shop, feeling a deep sense of humiliation. He knew he had some explaining to do, and he hoped you would at least hear him out.

As he entered the shop, the familiar sweet scent of flowers enveloped him, you were behind the counter, arranging some bouquets of flowers, pretending you were too focused on your work to even acknowledge his presence. 

"Bee" Joel began cautiously, "we need to talk."

You didn't look up from your flowers as you spoke: "Oh, what do you wanna talk about, my dear boyfriend?” 

Joel winced at the reminder of the lie he had told.

“You’re such a baby” you continued “Pretending I’m your girlfriend in front of... whoever that woman was?"

"Sarah's mother. I know it was a terrible thing to do, and I'm sorry. She showed up out of nowhere, and I didn't know how to handle it. I panicked."

At that piece of information, you finally looked up, locking eyes with Joel's. "So, what? You just decided to drag me into your mess?"

"No, it wasn't about that," Joel replied quickly. "I don't want her back in my life, and I thought if she believed I had moved on, she'd leave. I don’t really know.”

Your anger seemed to soften slightly as you listened to Joel's explanation, but still, you remained guarded. "That doesn't excuse your actions, Joel. We’re not friends” you said. As a matter of fact, “You can’t just use me like that.”

Joel sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I know we haven't exactly been friendly neighbors here, and I take responsibility for that. But I promise you, this was a desperate move, and I didn't mean to involve you like that."

You continued to arrange the flowers, with delicate movements. "Why didn't you just tell her the truth?"

“What truth?”

“The one that you are so fucking annoying you can’t even keep a woman by your side” 

Joel's response was sharp, filled with resentment. "Like you could keep a man with you," he scoffed.

The words hung heavily in the air, making the tension between you two grow into a battle, a bitter word exchange. 

You clenched your jaw, your eyes narrowing as you met Joel's gaze. "Don't pretend you know anything about my life," you retorted, your voice tinged with anger.

Joel's expression hardened as he shot back, "I know enough to see that you're all smiles and sunshine to everyone else, but you push everyone away, especially me."

The words cut deep into your ego, and you felt the frustration arising. "Maybe I pushed you away because you're so judgmental and closed off," you fired back, not willing to back down. “Now, get out of my shop you will kill my flowers with your stinky mouth” 

“No,” he stated.

“What?” you asked, sending daggers at him.

“I won’t go because I need your help”, his voice almost a plea. 

Your eyes widened in disbelief at Joel's tone. "You've got to be kidding me," you exclaimed once you realized what he meant, the frustration in your tone was evident. "After all this, you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend?"

Joel's expression was one of desperation as he replied, "I know it's a lot to ask, and I understand if you don't want to do it. But I promise it's just one more time, and I'll make it up to you somehow."

You crossed your arms and tapped your foot on the ground "Joel, you've already pulled this stunt once today. Why on earth would I agree to do it again?"

Joel took a step closer, looking earnestly into your eyes. "Because this is important to me. Lauren is not someone I want back in my life, and I need a way to convince her to leave for good. Please, just help me one more time."

“But it is not important to me!” you exclaimed, making Joel stop his rambling “You are not my friend. I don’t own you anything” 

Your words cut through the tension, and for a moment, Joel was reminded of just how much you two didn't get along. He felt a pang of guilt for dragging you into his mess and into his life. 

Once you finished with the flowers, you set them aside. She leaned against the counter, studying Joel carefully. "You know, you’re ridiculous, right?” fakely smiled at him. “You’re a 36-year-old man fake dating a girl” 

Joel winced at your words. He knew he had acted irrationally and put you in an uncomfortable position, but hearing your frustration made it all the more stupid.

"I understand if you're angry," Joel admitted, his voice tinged with regret. "I never should have involved you in this mess. It was unfair to you, and I'm truly sorry for that."

You let out a sigh in annoyance at Joel's request "Fine, I'll do it, but with one condition."

Joel's face lit up with hope. "Name it."

“You cannot fall in love with me,” she said, in a completely serious tone. 

Joel scoffed…I mean, there is no way he could possibly love you in that way. 

Joel chuckled, a nervous laugh escaping him. "Bee, trust me, the last thing on my mind right now is falling in love with anyone. Especially you" he placed his hands on the counter, almost touching your fingers “I could say the same about you. Don’t fall in love with me, baby” 

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his response, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. "Oh, don't worry, Joel. Falling in love with you is impossible," you retorted, matching your tone with his.

Your expression became serious; locking eyes with Joel "I mean it, Joel. No matter what happens during all this, we can't let it go beyond pretending. We both know we can't stand each other, and that's not going to change."

Joel nodded in agreement. "I couldn't agree more, Baby. After this is over, you’re back to only being a pain in my ass and the most insufferable person I know.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes again, but you still offered a small smile. "Uh! that isn’t a nice thing to say about your girlfriend”, she pouted. 

Joel chuckled with a playful smirk "Ah, yes, how could I forget? My lovely girlfriend”

With the agreement in place, both of you understood the boundaries you had placed before doing this act. It was a peculiar arrangement, born out of necessity rather than desire. After all, it would last a few days or maybe some weeks. But Joel would do everything for his own and Sarah's sake, and you were willing to play along with it because, after all, you were a people pleaser.

As the tension eased, you continued to arrange more flowers, and Joel looked around your shop. Every single part of it held pieces of you. From the scent to the colors, it suited you. 

"I appreciate your willingness to go along with this, Bee" Joel said sincerely, breaking the silence "It means a lot to me, even if we can't, you know, stand each other."

You gave him a small nod. "I hope that from now on, you stop ruining my flowers.” 

Joel smiled "Promise” 

Joel raised his hands to shake hands with you, in a gesture to seal the agreement. You accepted his hand, and for a brief moment, your skin met his in the handshake. There was electricity sparkling at the touch, one that neither of you had anticipated. Swiftly, both of you let go of each other's hands, leaving an odd feeling lingering in the air.

“See you around,” Joel said, trying to cut the tension left in the air.

“See you” you answered, this time without meeting his eyes as you felt the blood rushing into your cheeks.

Joel turned and headed back to his gallery, with that strange feeling he hated so much settled in his stomach.

a/n: Okay this is the first official chapter of this story, this is more like an introduction of their agreement, but more is coming. I really feel inspired because last week spring began here so..flowers and more flowers. i have so many ideas for this one so i hope you like the story and the following chapters. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated, please. Take care and see you soon.

p.s for those who read my other fic. I promise the next chapter will be posted by the end of this week or during the next one

tag 💌: @joeldjarin @borhapparker @fatima-marisa @kirsteng42

[wholoveseggs]

next parrtttttt plzZzzzzzZZZZZzzz of gardener

The Gardener {Part Four}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Part Four

Things come to a head when you decide to confront the Mikaelsons, before your magic consumes you.

♡♡ Sorry for the slow progress on this one! I hope ya'll enjoy the ending! ♡♡

6.4k words - Warnings: little bit of smut, lots of violence, Klaus being Klaus, more brother fighting, Elijah down bad, lots of magical hijinks and lots of death..????...

{Part One}{Part Two}{Part Three}

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The building was a ruin, a pile of rubble, and the ground was covered in vines and roots, spreading out and delving deep into the ground. The street was cracked and broken, and the air was thick with the smell of death and decay.

Wolves, witches and any other enemy to the vampires were clambering over the ruins, hacking away at the wood, taking whatever they could.

Maeve was giddy, stumbling around cheering and encouraging the rabble. You watched her hack off a smaller branch and start whittling at it with a dagger, laughing and dancing around.

"Take as much as you can! Don't stop!" She shouted, a feral grin on her face.

She handed off her newly made stake to one of the wolves, who looked at it, confused.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" He asked, his brow furrowing.

"Stab a fucking vampire!" She yelled, and then turned back to her task, snapping off another branch.

You were watching from afar, sitting on the curb, your mind still reeling. You couldn't believe it. They were all gone.

Agnes, Beatrice, Ava, Liza, the coven, all of your friends, gone. But you could still feel their magic inside you, their essence lingering. It made you sick, the way it made you feel powerful, but it also filled you with guilt.

"This is the best day of my life," Maeve said, skipping over to you, her arms laden with branches.

"Really?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh yes, definitely," she said, dropping her load on the ground, her eyes alight with joy, "it's not every day that you destroy a thousand year old evil and become a god."

"You're not a god," you said, shaking your head.

"Oh but I am," she said, her smile growing, "and so are you! Can't you feel it? The power, the energy, the magic, it's all ours now, the city is ours!"

She was practically vibrating with excitement, and you couldn't help but smile.

"It is pretty amazing," you admitted, looking up at the giant tree, "but I can't believe they're all gone."

Maeve's expression grew somber and she sat down next to you, wrapping her arm around your shoulders.

"I know," she said, squeezing you close, "but it's okay. We all knew the risks, and we all did this together. They'll be watching over us, guiding us."

You nodded, sniffling and wiping the tears from your face.

"I didn't think I would make it, honestly," she said, letting out a soft laugh, "I was so sure I was gonna die, I didn't think I was strong enough, or smart enough. But I did, and I'm here, and now, we're gonna win."

You looked at her, a smile tugging at your lips, and then a werewolf jumped onto the curb, brandishing his new stake.

"I dedicate this stake to Klaus Mikaelson! The great abomination!" He bellowed, and the crowd of vengeful rabble cheered, pumping their fists and screaming. "I shall sink it into his heart and watch the life drain from his eyes!”

The group erupted into roars and cheers, and the werewolf ran off, the crowd following him, chanting and howling.

"That werewolf is too stupid to realize he's dead already," Maeve said, shaking her head.

"Then why give them the stakes?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Because they need to feel useful," she said, shrugging. "And maybe there is a chance, like throwing a bunch of darts at a dart board. Who knows? Maybe one will hit the bullseye."

"Maybe," you said, staring up at the giant tree. "It's up to us though, isn't it? To finish this, to kill Klaus."

"Yep," Maeve said, smiling. "Then the rest of them… Including Elijah....," she trailed off, giving you a sideways glance.

"Yes, Maeve," you said, rolling your eyes, "I know."

"Do you?" She asked, her tone growing serious.

"Yes, and I'm fine. I don't- ....I won't let my feelings cloud my judgment," you said, holding her gaze.

"They died for this, Agnes, sweet Bea...," her eyes welled up with tears, "they gave their lives for this. I need to know, if it comes down to him or us, which will you choose?"

You hesitated, her words hitting you like a ton of bricks. You looked away, trying to avoid her stare, but she grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at her.

"Choose."

"I will choose freedom from oppression always," you said, your voice low. "Even if it means killing him."

She studied your face, searching for any hint of a lie, and then nodded, letting go of your chin.

"I know we've never exactly been close... But it's just us, you and me now," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "I've got your back, and you've got mine. Right?"

"Right."

She smiled and stood up, stumbling a little as she dusted herself off, looking around at the wreckage and all the people grabbing branches and chunks of wood.

"We don't have long, I don't think we can hold this magic forever. Not if we want to live," she said, turning back to you. "That means we have to go now," she nodded towards the tree.

"Now? Like right now?" You asked, surprised.

"Yeah, why not?" She said, shrugging, "we're going up against the biggest, baddest, most powerful vampire ever, the element of surprise is the only advantage we have. So, let's use it."

"I just thought, I don't know, we would have more time," you said, running your fingers through your hair.

"More time for what? More time for us to lose our nerve? To think about certain suit wearing obstacles? We gotta act now, while we can," she said, the corners of her mouth turning up slightly.

You sighed, knowing she was right, knowing that there was no point in thinking about anything else. You couldn't save him, you had sacrificed too much for this already, it had to be worth it.

You stood up, giving her a small nod.

"Alright, let's do this."

The city was under siege, the French Quarter on fire. Werewolves had returned to the streets, attacking vampires left and right, their stakes at the ready. Witches were casting spells, creating traps and ambushes, luring vampires into their clutches.

It was chaos, the kind that Klaus usually relished, but this was different. This wasn't fun. He was being hunted, and he could feel the rage bubbling beneath the surface, the urge to destroy everything in his path.

“Niklaus!" Elijah's voice cut through the noise, and Klaus turned to see his brother rushing towards the entrance to the compound.

Marcel stumbled inside, covered in blood, a werewolf bite on his neck and a stake sticking out of his back. Elijah caught him, helping him to his feet.

"What the bloody hell is going on out there?" Klaus demanded, grabbing Marcel's shoulders and shaking him.

"Witches," Marcel said, gasping for air, the werewolf venom burning through his veins.

Elijah pulled the stake out of Marcel's back, guiding him to a sofa. Klaus watched them, his eyes narrowed.

"Witches are causing this?" He asked, his anger growing, "they're the ones responsible for the chaos in the Quarter?"

"Not just the Quarter, the whole city," Marcel said, wincing.

Klaus let out a sigh and bit down on his wrist, offering his blood to Marcel. Marcel hesitated, his eyes meeting Klaus'.

"Just take it, Marcel," Klaus said, his patience waning.

Marcel took Klaus' wrist, drinking the blood. The wound healed and the venom was neutralized, leaving Marcel weak and exhausted.

"What had made them so bold? Why now?" Klaus asked, pacing the room.

"Maybe it had something to do with this," Elijah said, his voice oddly quiet, and Klaus looked over at his brother, his gaze falling on the wooden stake.

"Is that?" He started to ask, but the words died on his lips.

"White oak," Elijah finished, holding it out to him.

Klaus stared at it, his expression completely blank, like his brain couldn't process what he was seeing.

"Impossible," he whispered, taking the stake.

"Apparently not," Elijah said, and Klaus could hear the fear in his voice.

"Where did this come from?" He asked, his hands shaking, he looked at Marcel, who was slowly getting up off the sofa.

"The wolves were the ones who attacked me," Marcel said, rubbing the spot where the stake had pierced him. "I killed a couple of them, but the rest fled. I think they are planning on attacking you,”

Klaus' eyes darkened and he stormed out of the room, the stake still in his hand. Elijah quickly chased after him, catching up to him before he exited the compound.

"Niklaus, wait," Elijah said, grabbing his brother's arm.

Klaus stopped and turned to face Elijah, his eyes filled with fury.

"They will pay for this," he growled, his grip tightening on the stake.

"There could be more out there," Elijah said, his eyes pleading, "we need to regroup, to plan, we cannot rush into this."

"You expect me to do nothing?" Klaus hissed, his anger rising. "You think I'll stand by and let my home burn? That I'll let these insolent fools threaten my family?"

"If they get to us, our sirelines go with us, you know that," Elijah said, his expression steely.

Klaus growled, his eyes flashing yellow, he hated feeling hopeless, stuck, weak.

"So what do you propose?" He spat, his words dripping with venom. "You want me to sit and wait for the axe to fall?"

"We need to stay here, let the vampires and werewolves handle each other," Elijah said, keeping his voice steady.

"It's not the wolves!" Klaus roared, pushing Elijah back, "it's the witches, they're the ones behind this."

"Niklaus," Elijah said, his voice soft, "how could they possibly-"

"I don't know!" Klaus yelled, throwing his arms in the air, his frustration and fear overwhelming him.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. His mind was racing, going a hundred miles an hour. He had to fix this, had to end this, he couldn't let anything happen to his family, his home.

Suddenly, it was like a light switch had flipped in his brain. His eyes widened and he turned to look at Elijah, his expression grim. He sped past him, up the stairs to the study, with Marcel and Elijah quickly following behind.

Klaus ripped the portrait off the wall and opened the safe, pulling out a small, wooden box. He held it in his hands, staring at it, his jaw clenching.

"What's that?" Marcel asked, his brow furrowing.

Klaus didn't respond, just opened it, and Elijah felt his blood run cold, his heart shatter. It was gone.

"Impossible," Elijah said, shaking his head.

Klaus threw the box across the room, the wood splintering, embedding into the wall. He was breathing heavily, his entire body was tense.

"I told you," he muttered, his hands clenched into fists. "I told you what she was... what she was capable of..."

Elijah stared at him, his heart sinking. He remembered the day that he had met you, the first time you had come to the compound. He remembered how beautiful you were, so soft and full of light. How could you possibly be capable of such a betrayal?

Klaus lunged at Elijah, his fist colliding with his jaw, and Elijah stumbled backwards. He recovered quickly, his own fists flying, striking Klaus across the face.

They brawled, punches and kicks being exchanged, and Elijah grabbed Klaus, throwing him into a table. They crashed to the floor, grappling and struggling.

"You have always been blinded by your feelings for her!" Klaus spat, his fangs bared, his face inches from Elijah's.

Marcel grabbed at him, trying to pull him off Elijah, but Klaus shrugged him off, pinning his brother to the ground.

"You fell for the oldest trick in the book! My noble brother, always willing to see the best in people, even when they're plotting against you," he snarled, his eyes flashing yellow, "how many times has it cost us, Elijah? How many times have we nearly died because of your stupid sentimentality?"

Elijah snarled, pushing Klaus back and landing a blow to his nose, knocking him to the ground. He pinned him down, his hands wrapped around Klaus' throat.

"You think I'm the fool?" Elijah growled, his grip tightening, "it was you who pushed the witches too far, you took away their hope, their freedom! You're the reason they're fighting back!"

Klaus grabbed the stake and jammed it into Elijah's neck, his eyes widening in shock. He pulled it out, and Elijah gasped, falling to the floor.

"Enough!" Marcel yelled, and he yanked the stake from Klaus' hand.

Klaus stood up, breathing heavily, staring down at his brother, his face filled with rage. Elijah coughed and sputtered, blood spilling from his mouth, the wound slowly healing.

"If we are going to survive this, we need to work together. Save the family drama for later," Marcel said, his voice hard.

Elijah stood up, wiping the blood from his face.

"He's right," he said, his voice hoarse.

"So, what do we do?" Marcel asked, glancing between the two brothers.

"We hunt them down," Klaus growled, his eyes filled with fury. "Those foul witches and their ilk."

"And then?" Elijah asked, his expression grave.

"We kill them all," Klaus said, his voice barely above a whisper, and the room grew quiet, the weight of his words hanging in the air. He looked at Elijah, his face filled with determination, "Every last one."

You made your way through the city, ducking into alleys and hiding whenever a vampire passed by. It was a bit odd to see the city so barren, the streets empty. You tried not to think about it, pushing away the memories of when they were thriving, full of vampires, witches and werewolves alike.

You didn't talk much, keeping quiet to avoid drawing attention to yourselves. But Maeve pointed to the trees and grass, the once green and vibrant plants that now lay withered and dead.

"Was that us?" she whispered. "Our magic?"

You just nodded, trying not to dwell on it. You had sacrificed a lot to get here, you couldn't lose focus now. You had to keep going, no matter what.

"We are going to die, aren't we?" She asked, her voice barely audible.

"Maybe, but so is everyone else," you replied, your voice equally low. "This is bigger than us, we have a chance to free everyone, to end the tyranny,"

You could feel the magic you had taken on, it was too much, twisting your insides, making you nauseous. You knew that the longer you kept it, the worse it would get. The ancestors didn't care that you were in agony, you were their vessel, a tool for their revenge.

"I've never really thought about the afterlife," Maeve said, a small smile creeping across her face. "But, I hope that it's peaceful, that my family is there waiting for me,"

"I'm sure it is," you said, your voice wavering.

"What about you? What do you hope the afterlife is like?" She asked, glancing over at you.

"I hope it's worth it," you whispered, "I hope that everything we did was worth it."

She nodded, her expression solemn. You didn't know what else to say, so you just headed towards the compound, the one place you didn't want to go.

As you grew closer, the damage done to the streets became more pronounced, the rubble thicker and heavier. You had to climb over fallen walls and dead trees, concrete stained with blood. There had been a fight, wooden stakes and branches lay strewn about the ground, but no bodies. Whatever wolves, vampires or witches had engaged them here were either dead or dragged away to be fed upon.

You tried not to think about it, clambering over the rubble, making your way through the gate, sticking to the shadows of the courtyard. It was dark, the sun hidden behind stormy gray clouds. You were glad for it, it would make sneaking around the compound easier, but a part of you wanted to see the sunshine one last time.

The bodies of a werewolf army lie strewn about the courtyard and the large pool of liquid in the middle of it. There were torn off heads, limbs, all in a pile and it was impossible to tell which person belonged to which body. There were a few witches as well, their bodies laying next to those of the wolves.

It was gruesome, the smell of blood and rot filling the air. You covered your mouth, trying not to vomit, but the sight was too much, the magic coursing through you amplifying your senses, and you dry heaved, clutching your stomach.

Before you had time to process what you were looking at, there was a strange shift in the air, and Klaus Mikaelson stood before you. He was covered in blood, his shirt torn and ragged. He was staring down at the pile of corpses, his expression blank.

"I presume it was you that caused this... massacre," he said, his voice eerily calm.

"No, pretty sure that was you," you retorted, and he smirked, a cold, hollow thing, turning to face you.

"I call it self defense. Why? Well they had these..." he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, and he held up a number of poorly whittled white oak stakes, "and were not afraid to use them."

He dropped the stakes, his eyes roving over you, then his gaze turned to Maeve, a cruel smile twisting his lips.

"I see you brought a friend," he said, his voice mocking. "Does she care to explain what's happening here, or am I going to have to torture it out of her?"

Maeve glared at him, her eyes narrowing, and she lifted her hand, a ball of flame appearing in her palm.

"We've come to kill you, to end your reign of terror," she said, her voice hard.

"Is that so?" He replied, his eyes gleaming. "I'm impressed, little witch, it takes a great deal of strength and cunning to kill an Original vampire."

He looked over at you, his expression turning dark.

"And quite a bit of debauchery too, considering the lengths in which you went to," he hissed, his tone bitter.

"This has nothing to do with us, Klaus," you said, taking a step towards him.

"Oh no?" He snapped, his voice rising, "sleeping with Elijah wasn't a calculated choice? That was all just a means to an end?"

"Don't," you growled, your voice low.

He threw back his head and laughed, a loud, mocking sound. Then he lunged, grabbing you by the throat, lifting you off the ground.

"I should kill you," he growled, his eyes burning with rage, "I should rip your throat out and tear your body to pieces."

Maeve's hands clenched into fists, the fire growing hotter, brighter, and she let out a scream, sending the ball of flame hurling towards Klaus.

He dropped you, flying backwards, crashing into the side of the building. You landed hard, the breath knocked out of you, your body aching. Maeve rushed to your side, helping you up. She pressed a stake into your hand, and you gripped it tightly, the wood smooth against your skin.

"Come on," she said, jerking her head towards Klaus, "let's finish this."

Klaus stood up, his shirt smoldering, the skin beneath it red and blistered. His eyes flashed yellow, and he lunged, moving faster than you could follow.

Maeve ran at him, the force of her magic causing Klaus to stumble, and he let out a roar, charging towards her. They collided in a flurry of blows, their hands and feet moving impossibly fast.

Klaus grabbed Maeve, his hands wrapping around her neck, and he began to squeeze. You ran at him, leaping onto his back, plunging a stake into his shoulder. He screamed in pain, throwing Maeve to the ground, and reached behind him, grabbing you by the throat.

He tore the stake from his shoulder, tossing it aside, and slammed you against the wall, his hands crushing your windpipe.

"Tell me, love," he sneered, his eyes boring into yours, "did you enjoy it?"

You stared at him, your mouth open, struggling to breathe, the magic within you bubbling and churning.

"All the pain you have caused, all the suffering, the lives ruined," he growled, his eyes darkening, "and you had the gall, the nerve, the audacity to pretend you are righteous,"

He was breathing heavily, his jaw clenching, and his hands tightened around your neck.

"To claim that you were better than me," he hissed, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous tone, "to make Elijah believe that you loved him."

The magic inside you burst forth, exploding outward, and you sent a pulse of energy towards him, knocking him off his feet. He hit the ground hard, rolling a few times, coming to a stop against a stone pillar.

You collapsed in the heap, coughing and gasping for air, the magic flowing through you burning, searing. You screamed, your back arching, your limbs twitching, your muscles contracting. It was too much, the pressure, the pain, and the magic began to escape, slipping from your grasp, flowing into the air.

You watched it, like a wisp of soft twinkle lights, drifting away, it gravitated towards the wood, the stakes and branches strewn about the compound, to the beams above you. It sank into them, filling them, and the wood began to glow, burning with the same white light that flowed through you.

Maeve stumbled to her feet, stake in hand, it was disintegrating, falling apart in her palm. She knew this was her last chance, she couldn't afford to wait any longer, the magic was escaping her, draining from her body and draining her life.

She snarled and launched himself at him and they rolled across the ground, grappling and fighting. She screamed and struggled, the force of her magic beating against his chest, but he was too strong, pinning her down.

You took a single step forward, and then you felt it; a sudden rush of coldness, a wave of despair, as his hand touched your arm. You turned, and he was standing there, Elijah.

He looked like he had been through hell. His clothes were tattered, his face covered in dirt and blood. But it was his eyes, his beautiful brown eyes that broke your heart. They were full of pain, a sorrow so deep, so profound, that you couldn't look away.

You stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, neither of you saying a word. And then you heard a cracking sound, Maeve's scream, and Klaus' triumphant roar.

You saw her body fall, limp and lifeless, the white oak stake gone, Klaus holding the splintered remains in his hands.

The whispers grew deafening, chanting in unison, filling your mind, the voices blending together, drowning out all thought, and you were filled with rage.

You struggled in Elijah's grip, the magic swirling and coiling within you, ready to be released.

"Let me go," you hissed, your voice filled with venom.

He didn't budge, his grip tightening, but he wasn't looking at you. Klaus stood up, wiping his hands on his pants, his mouth twisted into a smug grin.

"It's over, brother," he said, his voice mocking, "kill her and end this,"

You snarled and kicked, lashing out with your magic, the air rippling. You struck him in the chest, and he fell backwards, his grip loosening, and you ripped yourself from his arms, turning to face him.

He looked like you had stabbed him in the heart, his expression crumpling. You felt dizzy, drunk almost, on the power. Everything was so vivid, so intense. Your senses were overwhelmed, your head spinning. Maeve's magic flowed through you, and you could feel her essence, her soul. The voices of your ancestors were a chorus in your head, a chorus calling for the deaths of all vampires.

Elijah moved, reaching out, trying to grab you, but you sidestepped him, dodging his attempt to restrain you. You turned towards him, the anger and pain that you had kept locked away, bubbling to the surface.

"You're all monsters," you hissed, your voice barely above a whisper.

"We are," Elijah said, his eyes full of anguish.

You felt a surge of emotion, your vision blurring, and a tear rolled down your cheek.

"I wish I had never met you," you whispered. "Why... Why did you have to take everything from me?"

He didn't answer, just stared at you, his face pale. You could hear Klaus chuckle behind you, his footsteps echoing in the silence.

"Come now, love," he drawled, "that's hardly fair."

You spun around, the magic inside you thrumming, your fingers twitching.

"You have no idea what's fair!" You snapped, your voice shaking.

Klaus smirked, taking a step towards you, but Elijah blocked his path, standing in front of you.

"Move," Klaus snarled, his eyes glowing yellow.

"No," Elijah said, his voice strained.

"You can't save her, brother," Klaus said, his voice low, his gaze fixed on Elijah. "She took too much on, look around,"

The ceiling was collapsing, the walls crumbling, the foundations cracking. All of the wood and plants were rotting and dying, pulsing with the same white light that you could feel pulsing through you.

"She chose this, to die for her cause," Klaus sneered. "How noble of her."

Elijah pushed him away, his jaw clenched, and he looked at you, his expression pained. Klaus grabbed him, pulling him away, and he let out a shout, struggling against his grip.

"Just let her go," he snarled, "it will be over soon."

Elijah shook his head, his tear filled eyes now turning to rage, and he punched him, hitting Klaus so hard, he stumbled, releasing his hold. Elijah's eyes burned with anger, his fists clenched.

"No, I will not kill her," he hissed, "not now, not ever."

"You're weak," Klaus spat, wiping the blood from his mouth, "she betrayed you, she lied to you, and you can't bring yourself to end it, to do what must be done. You are a fool, a pathetic, sniveling, little fool."

Elijah charged at him, his hands grabbing Klaus by the throat, slamming him into the wall. He punched him repeatedly, his knuckles smashing into his face, his eyes filled with hatred.

"You have only ever despised those I love," Elijah snarled, his fist connecting with Klaus' face, "because you are a coward, afraid of any emotion that does not serve your own selfish desires."

Klaus laughed, spitting blood, his lips split, his nose broken.

"You will never learn," Klaus said, his voice thick with disdain.

"And you will never understand," Elijah said, his voice barely above a whisper, his fist connecting with Klaus' face once again.

You could hear the whispers, the voices, the magic in the air calling to you. Your coven was gone, they were dead, but their spirits lingered, their voices echoing in your mind. You held all their power now, their legacy, and the weight of it was crushing. You were barely holding on, with Maeve dead all the magic was yours, and it was destroying you.

Your knees buckled, and you fell to the ground, your body wracked with sobs. You were alone, all alone, and the power was too much. You couldn't hold on anymore, your grip was slipping. the pain too intense, and you let go.

Everything went white, the light blinding, and there was a horrifying crack, and the earth beneath you exploded. The ground gave way, and you fell, the air rushing past you.

You screamed, falling, falling, and the voices grew louder, the light blinding. And then everything went black.

~~~

You awoke slowly, a dull throbbing ache in the back of your head. You couldn't feel your legs, your entire body was numb.

You blinked, your vision blurred, and slowly everything around you came into focus. There was rubble everywhere, a huge pile of it. The air was filled with dust, making it hard to breathe. There was a rumbling sound, as debris began to rain down, a piece of rock became dislodged and tumbled down, smashing into a pile of bricks, shattering them.

There was a ringing in your ears, and you could hear the muffled sound of shouting, a distant siren. You tried to move, but your body was heavy, your limbs were leaden, and you were stuck under something warm and solid.

You looked up, and Elijah's face came into view. His eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling in an unnatural way, his neck was at an odd angle, his hair caked with dust. He had you caged under him, his body covering yours, protecting you from the worst of the destruction.

"Eli?" You croaked, your voice hoarse, the sound of it muffled.

He slowly opened his eyes, blinking, his gaze focusing on you. His pretty brown eyes full of heartache and despair.

"Why?" He whispered, his voice breaking.

"I had to," you said, your voice wavering.

He looked down at you, his eyes roving over you, taking in your injuries. He moved slightly, pushing up against the rubble, his immense strength allowing him to lift the heavy wooden beam that was pinning you.

You winced as the movement jarred your legs, a sharp stab of pain shooting through you. You were sure they were broken, the bones in your lower half crushed, shattered.

"You used me," he whispered, his voice trembling, tears rolling down his cheeks, "you made me care for you, made me think..."

He broke off, shaking his head, his eyes filled with anguish.

"And then you betrayed me," he continued, his voice hollow.

The voices were screaming, the magic within you burning, searing.

"I was always told vampires were evil," you pleaded, the pain in your chest unbearable. "And then, I met you, and it was like, everything I knew, everything I believed, it all changed. You made me see the world differently."

His face crumpled, and he looked away, his shoulders shaking.

"I had a mission," you said, your voice cracking, "I was to destroy you, and bring peace back to this city."

You looked at him, pleading, your eyes welling up. You felt a stake next to you, the wood felt so hot, the magic inside it vibrating, the whispers in your head growing louder, a cacophony of sound.

"I never meant to fall in love with you," you cried, the tears rolling down your face.

"Killing me, would cause the thousands I sired to die too, many of them innocent. Who are you to decide who is worthy of life or death?" He asked, his voice trembling, his gaze full of anger.

"It doesn't matter," you said, the words spilling out of you, "they're all monsters."

"Just like me," he whispered, his eyes searching yours, "just like you."

"No," you whispered, your voice barely audible. You lifted the stake, pressing it against his chest, the wood burning against your skin.

"This is a mercy," you said, the tears rolling down your cheeks, "an end to the suffering, a chance for peace."

"Do it," he whispered, his voice shaking. "Kill me."

"I don't want to," you cried, the pain in your chest becoming unbearable.

"Do it," he yelled, his voice laced with anger, "End it. Put me out of my misery."

"No," you choked out, the pain overwhelming. "I don't want to, but the voices, the magic, it's too much, I can't, I can't hold on," you sobbed, the stake glowing brightly.

He leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, his breath tickling your face.

"I can't watch you die," he whispered, his voice soft, his face twisted with agony.

He kissed you then, a soft, gentle kiss, his lips brushing against yours, and you clung to him, the stake pressed against his heart, the wood burning. You knew you didn't have it in you, to make the choice that would end him, forever.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, the pain in your chest overwhelming, "for everything."

"Me too," he said, his voice filled with sorrow, he took the stake from your hand, casting it aside. You watched as it slowly disintegrated, the weapon you sacrificed everything for, turning to dust. Just like the magic you had inside you.

Elijah placed his hand on your cheek, cupping your face, his thumb brushing against your skin, his eyes meeting yours. Then he groaned, pushing hard against the debris that trapped you both, lifting the heavy wooden beam that pinned you to the ground. He pulled you free, holding your broken body close, and you felt his arms wrap around you, his touch gentle, careful.

You looked around, the devastation was worse than you thought. The entire compound was gone, the building demolished. There were fires burning everywhere, and a thick layer of dust and debris covered everything. The city was eerily silent, the sky dark, the only light coming from the fires. You were the cause of this, the destruction, the death. You couldn't take it anymore, the guilt, the shame, the pain.

You buried your face against his chest, letting the tears flow freely. He held you, his embrace warm, his touch comforting. You could feel the heat of his breath, the beat of his heart. The voices grew louder, and you were drowning in the sound, the pain was excruciating.

"I'm dying," you whispered, your voice muffled against his shirt, "and I'm afraid."

"Don't be," he whispered, his hand rubbing your back, his voice thick with emotion, "I'll be with you, every step of the way."

"I love you," you said, your voice trembling, the tears streaming down your cheeks.

"I love you too," he whispered, his voice choked, "with all my heart.”

He tightened his grip, holding you closer, his arms wrapped around you, his chest pressed against yours.

"Please," you begged, "please, kill me."

You felt his lips on yours, the taste of blood and tears. His fingers dug into your back, and you felt the pain, the fire in your bones, your muscles, the magic tearing through you, burning, scorching. You were going to die, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

"Not yet," he said, his voice breaking, and you felt the sharp pinch of teeth in your neck.

The pain was intense, like a fire, burning through you. You screamed, arching against him, and he pulled back, his eyes wide, his pupils blown, the veins beneath them protruding. He was feeding from you, draining you, killing you.

You felt the darkness creeping in, the whispers fading, the voices growing quiet. Then it was all blackness, nothingness, a void. You were floating, drifting in the darkness, and then you felt something, a tether, a rope, and it was pulling you back, calling to you. It was not the continual haunting drone of the ancestors, but one singular, familiar voice. The voice of the person you loved the most.

Epilogue

A soft sigh escaped your lips as Elijah's warm hands held you underneath him, the movements of his hips slow and controlled.

His hands roamed your body, the look of lust on his face making your heart skip a beat. You would never tire of the way he made you feel, the way he knew what he was doing. This slow, lazy dance, the intimacy of it, the gentle brush of his lips, the smooth silk sheets on your bare skin, the pleasure he made you feel. It was all overwhelming, intense, the sounds you were both making echoing in the room.

You stared up at him, the golden glow of the fireplace shining on his skin, his dark eyes staring down at you. A rare smile was on his lips, and he sighed in contentment, his thrusts becoming more forceful, the bed creaking beneath you. It didn't take long for you to fall apart, the sweet pleasure ripping through your body, Elijah following soon after.

The two of you laid there for a while, not saying anything, just enjoying the peaceful silence. As much as you wanted to, you couldn't stop the questions racing through your mind.

"You're thinking too much, my love," he whispered, his face nuzzled in the crook of your neck, his breath hot on your skin.

"I'm sorry," you sighed, shaking your head, trying to dispel the memories that were plaguing you.

"Talk to me," he murmured, propping himself up on his elbow, looking down at you. "I want to know what's going on in that beautiful mind of yours."

You closed your eyes, not sure where to begin. "I... I just miss it sometimes," you whispered, unable to meet his gaze, feeling the shame burning inside of you. "The power, the magic. It was so overwhelming, so intoxicating, and now... I feel empty without it."

"I know," he replied, his voice soft, his hand reaching up to stroke your hair. "I can't imagine what that was like, having all that power, feeling it consume you."

You nodded, the guilt weighing heavily on your shoulders. You knew what he was feeling. He was angry, hurt, betrayed, and you didn't blame him. It would take a long time for him to forgive you, if he ever did. You were grateful that he was even giving you a chance, allowing you into his life, his bed. He had been so patient, so understanding, so loving, and you didn't deserve it.

"I'm sorry," you said, your voice cracking. "I shouldn't have brought it up, I know it's a sore subject for you, and I'm sorry."

He sighed, shaking his head, his hand resting on your hip, pressing your legs apart. "No," he whispered, his eyes full of sorrow, his touch tender, his lips pressing against yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth. "It's not a sore subject for me, not anymore," he said, his voice firm, his words ringing true. "I forgave you a long time ago."

You blinked back the tears, his words washing over you, filling you with relief, with joy, with hope. You didn't deserve his forgiveness, his love, but you would cherish it, cherish him, for the rest of your life. And now that you were immortal, that would be a very long time.

You never expected to find peace or love with Elijah Mikaelson. Of all the ways your paths had crossed, this one was by far the most unexpected. Laying here, in his arms, a vampire, his wife, was never part of your plan. You chose this, him, and he chose you, and that's all you ever needed.

{Part One}{Part Two}{Part Three}

[tenderleavesbob]

To fix the timeline, they needed to break the timeline.

Lana watched the trio of heroes and bit her lip. She wrung her hands silently, keeping to the shadows so no one saw her distress. They might ask and she didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t tell the truth. This had to happen. This was a piece missing from the timeline, one that had baffled her/Cia for thousands of years.

The timeline needed to break. For Tune to even be born, the timeline needed to break.

Captain Link looked as beautiful as ever as he spoke with Tune and Mask. Lana’s heart ached as she looked at him. Most of the other warriors had traveled home. Some would stay. She had searched for the home of Marin and her people, but that was another mystery not even she could solve.

Lana knew she shouldn’t. She needed to finish with the portals and then leave herself. Heal the shattered timeline once and for all and leave her own broken heart behind. Maybe her split from Cia wasn’t complete, though. Maybe some of the corruption lingered. Whatever the reason, Lana found herself creeping closer to the trio. She wanted to hear his voice again before she resumed her protective role.

“I’m going to miss you both so much,” Tune was saying, holding tight to Captain Link and Mask. 

For once, Mask had no snark to offer. He didn’t look triumphant. He looked devastated, like Ganon had won. He had a white-knuckle grip on the captain, and Link’s grip was just as tight back.

Link smiled at both of them, anyway. Lana hated herself for how she admired him right then. His tears made his blue eyes shine like jewels. “I’m going to miss you both, too. So much.” He leaned down and kissed Tune’s hair, then Mask’s. “But you two are going to go home and see your loved ones again and go on more adventures. I’m sure you’ll forget this crusty old captain in no time.”

Mask sniffled and buried his face in Link’s chest. “No,” he said at last. “No, I won’t. I don’t want to leave.”

Link closed his eyes like Mask’s words had physically pained him. “Goddess, Mask, if I could, I would keep you forever. You know that. But you have your own time waiting for you. Your own destiny --”

“I’ve completed plenty of adventures by now!” Mask cut off sharply. He pulled back from Link but didn’t lose his white-knuckled grip on him. He was crying in earnest now, and when Link opened his eyes, he began silently weeping, too. “Tune has his family waiting for him back home, but I don’t! You know that! My family is here!” He sniffled and only let go of Link to angrily wipe at his face. “Don’t send me away!”

“Mask…” Tune tenderly touched his shoulder, tears streaming down his own face, but Mask knocked his hand away. His desperate gaze never left Link’s heartbroken face.

It was time for Lana to intercede. She braced herself and forced a bright smile. She had her own duty to complete. “He’s right.”

All three heroes whipped around to face her. The spirit of the hero shone brightly in all of them, brighter than their tears, even with how Mask and Link had been born with it and how Tune had independently claimed it for his own. “Lana?” Link rasped. Lana didn’t think Link caught how he clutched at both boys, like Lana was going to steal them away.

“Mask is right,” Lana explained. It wasn’t quite a lie. Not really. Not with how the timelines worked. “If everyone is all right with it… it won’t damage his timeline if he isn’t sent home with the rest.”

That was both one of the greatest lies she had ever told and one of the few real truths. Mask had to stay. He had to. He would stay, and his timeline would splinter into another part.

Lana’s eyes flickered toward Tune’s flushed, tear-damp face. If the splinter didn’t occur, Tune’s timeline would never be born.

“He can stay?” Link demanded hoarsely. He grabbed Mask and yanked him back into his arms. Mask clung to him and hid his face in Link’s tunic, small shoulders shaking.

Both Link and Lana looked at Tune, who leaned into Link’s side. “I know I can’t,” Tune said simply, without fanfare. “But I’m happy one of us can.” He touched Mask’s shoulder again. This time, Mask didn’t hit him. “You have to keep an eye on our captain for us both now, Mask. You can’t leave him alone. He’ll do something stupid for sure.”

Mask made an odd, wet sound and then grabbed Tune back into their hug. “Damn straight I will.”

“Language,” Link scolded, but he didn’t put an ounce of feeling into it. He began crying anew as he looked at Lana. “He can really stay?”

“He can really stay,” Lana agreed and felt the small crack in time form.

When the evil returned and the land needed a hero, the hero would not respond. He would be safely at home in Captain Link’s era, Link’s beloved younger brother and charge. They would both have their happily-ever-after. After all of this, it was the least that was owed to them.

“You can stay,” Link whispered disbelievingly, hugging Mask close. Oblivious to the countless people who would drown when the hero did not answer the call.

“I’m home,” Mask whispered back, just as disbelieving. 

To fix the timeline, first Lana needed to break it. Looking at the small family in front of her, Lana couldn’t bring herself to regret it.

[therealcocoshady]

Love Game - Part 2

Author’s Note : As a lot of you have been requesting… here is a part 2 for Love Game ! Thank you again to my dear @shady-577 for giving me the idea to write this ❤️. And thank you to all of you who have been supporting my writing ! It means the world to me ! I will be enjoying some vacation in Switzerland for a few days so I might not be able to reply to messages & asks right away. Keep them coming nonetheless 😏.

It took three weeks for Denaun to finally talk to Marshall. In all their years of friendship, it was the first time they spent this long without a form of contact. They had been through everything together : crashing on each other’s couch when times were tough, working menial jobs, sharing food when they were broke, grieving Proof together, hyping each other up… of course, they’d had their ups and downs but three weeks without talking was tough. What was even more surprising was that, for once, it wasn’t Marshall going MIA, it was Denaun. It was extremely out of character for him. Whenever they’d had fallouts, he had always been the first one to reach out and apologize, even when he was not the one at fault. So not picking up the phone for three weeks was unlike him and Marshall blamed you. For all he knew, you were at Denaun’s constantly, trash talking him. He was positive that, if it weren’t for you, his friends would have talked to him at least once. So in his mind, he had insulted you a thousand times and wished you the worst.

Little did he know that you spent most of your time home, secluded in your bathroom, victim of morning sickness that lasted the whole day. You didn’t go out as much and only kept up with the guys via text. It took a while for Denaun to reach out to you too. You assumed that he was hurt about the fact that Marshall and you had fucked around, throwing the whole group dynamic to the fire.

- It was nothing, Nauny, you assured him in a soft voice over the phone. It was a one time thing. I swear it didn’t mean anything.

- It’s not my business, he said. You guys are adult. You can do your own thing.

- I know, you said. But… you’re one of my best friends. I don’t want to lie to you. And I don’t want to lose you.

- Y/N, are you crying? He asked as soon as he heard your breaking voice.

- I’m just really emotional, that’s all, you said evasively.

Half an hour later, he was ringing your doorbell, your comfort food in hand. You had a long conversation and he told you he was just hurt about the dishonesty of it, and that he had felt lied to. You apologized again and ended up talking about Marshall lashing out at you.

- I don’t even know what his deal is, you said honestly. I guess he thought I wanted more.

- Did you ? Denaun asked with a straight face.

- God no, you assured him. His ego jumped to conclusions but I just wanted to… whatever.

- You can tell me, doll, he said as he put a hand on your shoulder.

- I can’t, Nauny, you sighed. It’s just… I’m in deep shit. And I wanted to tell Marshall about it.

- I’m here for you, he assured you. You know I got you, right ?

- I know, handsome, you said as you cupped his cheek. I’m just… going through a lot.

Tears welled up in your eyes and you tried to pace yourself. He brought you into a bear hug and you quietly let your tears stream down your cheeks. He gently held you, whispering that everything was ok, that he got you and that you could tell him everything. He was the sweetest guy you knew and you felt lucky to have him in your life. You knew he meant every word and that there was no problem of yours he wouldn’t happily solve. He wiped your tears with his thumb and gave you a smile. You sat on the couch and started to eat.

- So… What’s that deep shit you mentioned ? He asked.

- Oh, I don’t want to bore you with the details, you said evasively.

- You’ll never bore me, doll ! He assured you. I’m your friend. And I’m all ears.

- I’m pregnant, Nauny, you blurted out.

He stared at you in silence, his jaw almost dropping to the floor. You felt ashamed, as if you were a teenager telling her mom she’d been knocked up. You felt stupid, too. How dumb did you have to be not to think of protection ? Thank God, your medical exams showed you didn’t get a STI. That would have been te cherry on top of this very embarrassing cake.

- Wow, he said after a minute. So wha- I’m sorry, I… Are you ok ?

- I am, you said. I mean, I’m throwing up a lot and I’m exhausted, but other than that, I’m fine.

- And the baby ? He asked as he looked at your flat stomach.

- I’m having an ultrasound in a couple of days, you informed him. I’ll know a bit more.

- Do you think you’re… Sorry, doll, I’m trying not to be insensitive but do you think you’re going to keep it ?

- I don’t know, you said earnestly. I haven’t made up my mind, yet.

- You should tell Marshall, he said sympathetically. I mean… It’s his, right ?

- Yes, it’s his, you confirmed. Look, he clearly didn’t want to talk to me, last time we were at your place. I think I’ll wait for the ultrasound and make my mind. I’ll talk to him about it if I decide to keep the baby. But I won’t force anything on him.

- Even if you get an abortion, he should know, Denaun said. If the baby was mine, I’d want to know.

- If the baby was yours, what do you think I should do ? You asked with a sigh.

- I’d love to be a dad, someday, he said. So I’d want you to keep it. Only if you want to, though. But I know you’d be a great mom. You take care of all of us all the time !

- I wish all men were like you, Nauny, you said as you rested your head on his shoulder.

You spent a couple of hours talking, and he actually convinced you to call Marshall and let him know about your pregnancy. You nervously grabbed your phone and called him but he wouldn’t reply. You were feeling emotional and hormonal, so it was enough to bring you to tears. Thankfully, Denaun was here to console you and he took it upon himself to set an appointment with Marshall. He decided to have both of you meet at his place. Marshall thought he was only meeting his friend, not knowing you’d be here and that Denaun would actually leave the two of you be, so that you could have a talk.

As soon as he walked into his best friend’s living room and saw you sitting on the couch, you could see that he was annoyed. He immediately looked at Denaun.

- I thought you needed to talk to me ? He asked with a sigh.

- Well… I don’t, Denaun said. She does, though.

- So you lied to get me here ?

- Wouldn’t have had to if you just picked up your phone, his friend replied. I’ll leave you guys to it.

He left the room and you just stared at each other in silence. Nerves were starting to get the best of you and you regretted listening to Denaun. Maybe you should have waited until the ultrasound, or until you had made up your mind about this pregnancy. Ever since you had met, Marshall had been an absolute sweetheart to you. He was warm, kind, compassionate and always distracting you with his humor. Contrary to what you would have expected, getting close with him had been easy. You had felt immediate chemistry, like the one you had with Denaun, but even more intense. And it hadn’t been long before the two of you flirted via text and even threw each other longing glances while you were with the others. It reached an apex one night after dinner, when Marshall drove you home. He had walked you to your door after you had confessed you were anxious to risk meeting your annoying neighbor in the hall and, as you went to peck his cheek to say good night, he had turned his face, your lips accidentally landing on his. Next thing you knew, you were stumbling in your living room, making out while his hands explored your body, bunching your pretty summer dress at the waist. The night had been passionate and proved that the two of you were sexually compatible. You had always felt at ease with him, and sex was no different. That night, you had been more daring with him than with any other partner, asking you to do stuff to you that made you blush when you thought about it. He had happily obliged, a smirk on his face, whether it was to choke you or to fuck you senseless, ass up, face down and buried in a pillow while he grabbed a handful of your hair. He had been a gentleman about it, though, and after the deed was done, he had been nothing but sweet to you, making sure he hadn’t hurt you in any way.

But the man who was facing you was neither your friend nor the gentleman he had been that night. He was cold and distant and you didn’t even know why. It was so far from what you knew of him.

- What do you want, Y/N ? He finally asked. I thought I was clear, last time.

- You were, you said. But I need to talk to you.

- There’s nothing to talk about, he sighed. We fucked. That’s it. Look, you know that I’m not the relationship type.

- I know but-

- No but, he continued. It was nice, I’ll give you that. And I’m sorry you caught feelings or whatever but it’s not mutual and I would appreciate it if-

- I’m pregnant, you blurted out.

- You what ? He asked, though you could tell he had heard you.

You knew you probably should have eased him into it, and that blurting it out probably wasn’t the best way to tell him, but you couldn’t stand to hear him ramble like this. You were not an impressionable young lady anymore and him implying that you might have caught feelings after that night was ridiculous. As far as you were concerned, it had been a nice night and, sure, you wouldn’t have minded if it had happened again, but you weren’t the relationship type either. Your past experiences with men had been pretty traumatic and you weren’t searching for anything romantic. If companionship was something you were after, your rapper friends sufficed you. You liked being a part of the group, hanging out with them. And as far as you were concerned, it was enough. The last thing you needed was someone to throw off your independent lifestyle and break your heart all over again.

- I’m pregnant, you repeated. I thought you should know.

- And it’s mine ? He asked.

- Yes, it’s yours, you sighed. I wouldn’t tell you otherwise, now, would I ?

- Are you sure ? He asked again.

- That I’m pregnant ? Yes. I’ve had blood work done and I’m scheduled for an ultrasound tomorrow, you explained. And yes, it’s yours.

- How do you know ? He questioned with a raised eyebrow.

- How do I- What do you think ?! You finally snapped. I know because you’re the only man I’ve been with in months !

He mumbled something and you watched him swallow dryly before sighing. Obviously, he wasn’t ecstatic. Not that you expected him to, mind you. To be fair, you weren’t too happy either. You had always wanted children, but this was far from what you had envisioned.

- Are you going to keep it ? He asked.

- I don’t know, you said. Abortion is not off the table yet. But whatever I choose to do, I thought you deserved to know.

- Ok, he hummed. I’ll pay for your abortion.

- I didn’t ask you to, you pointed out. And I might not have as much money as you, but I earn my own, I make a good living and I can afford my own healthcare.

- I know, he sighed. But look… we both made a mistake and it’s only fair that I pay for it. And it’s probably better than the two of us having our lives ruined.

- Ok, you said. I’ll- I’ll get an abortion, then.

- Are you ok ? He asked. Like… with the symptoms and everything ?

- I’ve been sick a lot, you admitted. Tired, too.

- I’m sorry.

He was cold but, at the same time, he seemed rather considerate. He was looking at you intently and you sighed in relief. At least, the cat was out of the bag and he knew. And now that you had talked to him about it, it made sense to get an abortion. The two of you made small talk for a second and he said you could call him if you needed anything, regarding medical appointments, and that you could keep him posted.

A couple weeks and several medical appointments later, you were scheduled to get your abortion. You had texted Marshall about it and, even though you could feel he remained distant, he had wished you well, even offering to pick you up after. However, you had felt more comfortable asking Denaun, who had been an absolute sweetheart. He had been calling and visiting you regularly, checking in on you and even having food delivered to your door. The night before the procedure, though, you had nightmares and were feeling insanely guilty. You’d had the stupid idea of Googling stuff about pregnancy and abortion and you were haunted by the testimonies of women who said they regretted doing this. You still went to the clinic and Denaun stayed in the waiting room. You were taken to a room and a nurse came to get you.

- Are you ready ? She asked.

- I… no, you said. I can’t do it. I’m sorry. I don’t want to.

- It’s fine, she said with a reassuring smile. You’re allowed to change your mind. Do you need a minute ? To make sure ?

- I think I need to go home, you said.

She nodded and escorted you back to the waiting room. As soon as he spotted you, Denaun got up.

- Are you alright ? He asked.

- Did you mean it ? You asked back. When you said I’d be a good mother ?

- Of course, he said.

- Good, you replied. Because I’m keeping it.

He took you home and stayed with you for a few hours, until you started yawning and went to bed. You fell asleep immediately but were awoken by the sound of your phone buzzing.

- Hello ? You asked sleepily.

- You haven’t replied to my texts, you heard Marshall say. I wanted to check up on you. Are you ok ? Are you still at the hospital ?

- No, I’m home, you replied. I was asleep. Sorry.

- How did it go ? He asked.

- It didn’t, you said. I couldn’t go through with it.

- Do you need me to get you an appointment to a different clinic ?

- No, Marshall, you said. I… I’m having this baby.

- Are you serious ?! He blurted out. Fuck… tell me you’re joking !

- I’m not, you said. And before you say anything… it’s my body. It’s my choice. And I’m not asking anything of you. I know you don’t want it and I’m not going to force anything on you. If you want to be involved in that child’s life and upbringing, you’re welcome to. But if not, I don’t hold it against you.

- Ok, he said. I… I’m going to need time to think.

- I understand, you replied. Look… I’m sorry.

- I’m sorry too, he sighed.

A few weeks went by and you didn’t hear from him. When you were hanging out with the guys, whenever there was anything planned, he wouldn’t show up. You highly suspected he was avoiding you because, as far as you knew, he was talking to the guys regularly. You were starting to show a bit and, eventually, you decided to tell the guys, while not mentioning who the father was. You told them at a dinner party you hosted at your place and they were happy for you, joking that they were going to be uncles, telling you that if you could handle them, a baby wouldn’t be a problem. It was heartwarming and, in your heart, you knew you had made the right choice. You were feeling emotional and overcome with emotion, so Denaun held your hand under the table, gently squeezing it. You were so grateful for his friendship and his presence by your side. He had been so good to you and he was one of the reasons why you thought you could do this.

You saw Marshall again weeks later, at Denaun’s studio. Everyone was there and he walked in while Denaun was taking a picture of you and Bizarre goofing around, holding your respecting bellies. His gaze met yours and his eyes then went to your stomach. You weren’t showing too much yet but the skin tight dress you wore made your pregnancy noticeable. However, he didn’t comment and addressed you normally. You were coming back from one of your many trips to the bathroom when he intercepted you in the corridor.

- Hey, he said.

- Hi, you replied. Are you ok ?

- I am, he said curtly. Look… I’ve thought about it.

- So ? You asked.

- I’ll be there, he said solemnly. If this is my baby, I want to be involved.

- Good, you said nervously. That’s… nice.

- I want proof, though, he added. That it’s mine.

- Marshall, I already told you it’s yours, you said calmly. You’re the only man I’ve been with. It can only be you.

- I want a paternity test, he said. I want proof.

- Don’t you trust me ?! You asked, clearly offended.

- No, he said. I’m sorry but I don’t trust you.

- When did I ever give you a reason not to ? You asked.

- Come on, Y/N, he sighed. Have you seen yourself ? You wear the shortest dresses known to man, you flirt with everything that moves ! For all I know, you’ve been with all of us. Hell, maybe you don’t even know who’s the father. Could be any member of D12. I’ve seen you bat your eyelashes at Nauny, bat your eyelashes at Bizarre… I’m not taking your word for it.

- Are you fucking serious ?! Call me a slut while you’re at it !

- Your words, not mine, he said coldly.

[bitchy-craft]

Bibliomancy Messages For You | Pick A Pile

Hello and welcome to this Pick A Pile! In here you'll find a few bibliomancy messages for you! I hope you guys enjoy and find this useful. Do make sure to leave comments down below on your experience! I do want to remind you all that this is a General Pick A Pile which means this is for a lot of people: therefore keep what resonates and leave what doesn't.

Masterlist > Questions > Paid Readings

Pick A Pile!

Pile 1:

The only way to do great work is to love what you do.

You have within you right now, everything you need to deal with whatever the world can throw at you.

The more that you read, the more things you will know. The more that you learn, the more places you'll go.

The only limit to our realization of tomorrow will be our doubts of today.

In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on.

Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.

The greatest glory in living lies not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.

If you want to know what a man's like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals.

Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the universe.

It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.

Pile 2:

The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step.

To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.

The only impossible journey is the one you never begin.

It is not the mountain we conquer, but ourselves.

Believe you can and you're halfway there.

Success is not final, failure is not fatal: It is the courage to continue that counts.

You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view... Until you climb into his skin and walk around in it.

The purpose of our lives is to be happy.

If you want to lift yourself up, lift up someone else.

In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.

Pile 3:

The only limit to our realization of tomorrow will be our doubts of today.

You are never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream.

Success usually comes to those who are too busy to be looking for it.

The best way to predict the future is to create it.

Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans.

The purpose of our lives is to be happy.

Do not wait for leaders; do it alone, person to person.

In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on.

Change your thoughts and you change your world.

Life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated.

[rizsu]

project: i'm going insane suna rintarō.

sum. when a project brings together two students & possible crushes. ( no part two sry !! )

a quiet room with only the sweet melody of birds singing tales as the sun kisses your skin. ah, how sweet. it's such a blessing—being lost in paradise as you gaze upon the dancing flowers. truly a magicial scenery! oh, how divine. how divine it is indeed—

“students are to pair up with their deskmate for the project.”

right, you're still in class. reality is truly a pain. you really could've been listening to the sweet melody of birds but instead you got the sweet melody of hell (school).

you haven't turned to face your partner yet. you're not gonna face suna rintaro right now—especially not after he witnessed you graciously trip on nothing this morning.

“so are you gonna talk or are you gonna continue looking at me every five seconds from the side of your eye?” suna asked, tilting his head into his palm while he knocks his pen against the desk.

“i'd rather not honestly.”

“i don't care about your excellent fall this morning, y/n.”

that got it. that sentence awards itself as the sentence that made you whip your head to suna.

“don't spread lies. anyways, what're we gonna do for that project?”

raising his eyebrow, suna thinks. what are you guys going to do actually? he's sure that he'd forget about the whole project after three days.

“i dunno,” he shrugs, typing in random numbers into his calculator before continuing, “here, save my number we can talk more about it later.”

leaning into his side of the desk, you secretly pull your phone out from your bag, trying to save his contact as fast as you can before your homeroom teacher turns back facing the class.

“why the fuck did you save me as ‘some hoe’?!”

“mind your business.”

ಇ. AT HOME

it's 7 pm. you're just coming out of the shower, patting your face with a towel before reaching for your phone.

i should text suna, you think. double tapping your screen, you eyes widen slightly in surprise. it seems as though the other party had the same plans as you did.

snickering at the spammed messages, you opened his chat.

“what a fucking loser.” giggling at his text, you place your phone down going back to finishing your nightly routine.

ಇ. NEXT DAY

if there's one word to describe your mood right now it'll be annoyed. it's far too early for anything nor do you have the time and patience to talk with anyone at 06:45 am. releasing your earbuds from its jail, you put both on at max volume and try to continue your previous slumber.

“no way you're sleeping right now.” a soft voice speaks, the owner of the voice wraps his palm around your neck squeezing it a little.

you don't respond. you know what they say, don't respond to the devil!

oh but that doesn't stop suna. not at all! who is he if not your number one bully? suna knows your aware that he's next to you so how dare you ignore him! clicking his tongue, the boy pulls out one of your buds and places it in his ear before sitting down copying the exact way you're sitting.

suna looks at you. his eyes scanning through your features with a small smile. you're pretty, really. he notes every little feature on you mentally—noting how you always have two fringes/braids framing your face, noting how you actually fell asleep, noting how good your music taste is.

lemme save these songs too, suna thinks. he reaches over for your phone before dropping his hoodie on you. it's quite cold this morning and he'd rather not hear your ten-thousand complaints when you wake up from the nap.

──

“CAN YOU NOT WALK SO FAST?!”

“can't help that i'm an athlete.”

“NO ONE CARES! SLOW DOWN A LITTLE.”

it's 5:42 pm, the beams of the evening sky color the area in its glory. it'd be a beautiful scenery if two teenagers weren't bickering down the street.

a young boy, around six feet tall, walks with one hand in his pocket and the other holding a yogurt. behind him stands a young girl, around (your height), walks with anger as she playfully throws her school bag at the boy.

“keep hitting me and see if i won't throw you down the street.” the boy says, wiggling his finger at the girl as he warns her.

“are you trying to tussle and bussle?” the girl answers back, rolling her eyes at him.

“bussle... what is your vocabulary?” the boy questions, fighting back a smile. he finds her sentence amusing.

“don't question it. anyways, can we go to a café?”

“yeah, i'll grab some snacks for my sister too.”

and so, they set off (still bickering).

ಇ. MIDNIGHT

giggling at your convo, you smile hard before coming to realization.

“did i just fucking giggle at suna?!” questioning yourself out loud, you raise one eyebrow before switching off your phone. i'm going insane, you think.

laying down in a starfish position, you look up at the ceiling wondering about your feelings towards the one and only suna rintarō.

do you like him? yes.

is he annoying? yes.

do you like his company? yes.

do you wish to bash his head in with a rock sometimes? yes.

your romantic emotions clash with your platonic emotions which then clashes with your confusion and creates a whole new headache!

i don't have time for this.

meanwhile at suna's

“ayah, do you think i'm crazy?” suna asks. he's sitting at the end of his bed staring at a wall.

“yes!” the little girl answered, playing with her toys as she ignores her older brother's reaction.

ಇ. NEXT DAY

at the school's gym holds two teenagers that sit side by side, judging other students. one student named suna rintarō aggressively chews on his gum agreeing with the words being said as the other named y/n l/n continues to judge.

“y'know the girl in the right's cheating on her boyfriend?” you say, raising your eyebrows at you look at suna.

gasping, suna looks at you, “you're lying oh my god.”

“no i swear. like, if i was her boyfriend i'd just go home right now.” you replied, shrugging your shoulders as you reach for one of suna's gums.

“that's crazy but who are we to judge honestly.” suna says, popping his gum before standing up.

“i have practice until six today—” he stops before leaning down to your ground level, “don't miss me.” he continues, slightly smirking before pinching your cheek.

“hands OFF. and no, i won't miss you.” shoving his hand away, you stand up to walk out the gym with him (even though there's no reason to).

— at suna's.

suna walks into his home, greeting his family before dragging himself up to his room. he's whipped and absolutely battered. sometimes, he thinks he's not cut out for volleyball—well at least not with mr. perfect kita who does indeed follow a properly written routine.

i'm fucking beat, suna thinks. he plops onto his bed face down but immediately turns around. he thinks about the little interaction from earlier today; you guys were close. he's not really a teasing person but he doesn't know what possessed him to get that close—close to the point he could've moved five centimetres and your lips would meet.

you know that little cartoon effect where a red blush rushes from the character's neck to the head? yeah, that's suna right now. he's done and DUSTED.

“this cannot be real.” suna whispers, he thinks he's going insane. no way he can't stop thinking about you. no way. reaching over for his phone, suna looks at the screen before thinking, should i text her or nah.

he goes with the “nah” option and decides to take a nap. maybe he'll sort his feelings out after his nap.

[andvys]

We'll burn the sky | part eleven

Warnings: 18+, mentions of smut, angst, mentions of substance abuse, mentions of death, mentions of cheating, mentions of reader smoking cigarettes

Pairings: Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Rockstar!fem!reader | Steve Harrington x fem!reader | past Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham

Summary: Corroded Coffin plays at the hideout again, friends, family and.. enemies show up

Word count: 8k+

@mysticmunson thank you for your amazing ideas as always, bestie🥺

Series masterlist

inspo for the outfit reader was wearing

-

Eddie’s words and actions kept you up all night. His touch lingered, you could still feel his lips on your neck as your mind repeated his words. 

I’m yours, I’m all yours, I’ve been yours right from the start, you have my heart, sweetheart. You’re all I want.

You stared at him with a dumbfounded expression on your face as you searched for the dishonesty in his eyes, only to find none. He was saying the truth, he wasn’t lying, he never lied about his feelings for you. 

Despite the things he said to you before, despite the girl that he kept a secret from you for months, you believed him. You finally realized that he never pretended, you were never just a placeholder, he never used you for the band. Right then, he let you see inside his mind, all his walls crumbled and he let you see everything. 

And all you saw was a broken man who found love and comfort in you.

Yes, now you know that he never lied but now you are all the more scared. You already found out what it feels like to lose him, what it feels like to live without him, what it feels like to get your heart broken by Eddie Munson

What if you will truly lose him someday? 

What if he will leave you?

What if he will find someone better? 

What if he will get sick of you and abandon you the way everyone else did? 

All these what if’s run through your mind but the one that truly matters doesn’t. 

What if he stays? 

-

The hideout is bustling, loud music is playing in the crowded bar, laughter and loud voices are heard from every corner in the bar. Eddie looks around in awe. A look of pride is lingering on his face. 

Despite performing on big stages, in front of even larger crowds, in front of thousands of people, he can’t help but feel more excited than ever. This is where it all started. No longer is the place filled with emptiness, the place is filled with people, ones that came here just for the band. A lot of them, he doesn’t even recognize. 

But he finds the five drunks, still claiming their usual table, just like they did two years ago. He talked to them earlier, all of them giving Eddie pats on the back and telling him how proud they all are. 

He smiles to himself. 

Wayne is sitting at the bar with Steve and Robin, all three of them are seemingly in a deep conversation as they wait for their drinks. 

The teens are here too, sitting around a round table, he eyes Lucas who is the most excited one out of them. He chuckles to himself, knowing that he is only excited to see you. 

After setting everything up on the stage, Eddie walks to the small backstage room to get you. He raises his fist to knock on the door but it opens just before he can do so. 

He freezes and his jaw drops. You look good, you always do but tonight, you look insanely good. 

“Jesus H Christ,” he mumbles to himself. 

He lowers his hand and takes a step back, letting his eyes rake over your body. His cheek flush red and his eyes darken as he eyes your outfit, your exposed skin, your cleavage, your beautiful face, your hair that you no doubt spend the last hour on. 

His stomach flutters and suddenly he feels very hot. 

He whispers your name in shock. 

You blush at the way he is staring at you. Crossing your arms over your chest, he suddenly groans, eyes widening as he stares at your boobs in the little top that is laced together in the middle, exposing your skin and covering your boobs just enough.

“Like what you see, Eddie?” you ask teasingly. 

He just nods, still staring at all the leather covering your skin. 

“Y-You look so fuck… so hot,” he stutters. 

You can’t even help but chuckle. That’s the first thing he has said to you after last night, after he went inside before telling you, that he is willing to wait for you. 

You wish you could go back to the way things used to be but you can’t, the pain is still so fresh and all your fears have caught up to you ever since the night you found out about her. 

You can’t be vulnerable with him, at least not yet.

But maybe you can go back to the beginning. 

“Thanks,” you smirk, “Steve helped me pick out this outfit.” 

His eyes flash with jealousy and he has to restrain himself from rolling his eyes. 

“You should’ve seen all the other outfits he made me try on, just for him.” 

He furrows his brows as his awestruck stare turns into an icy one.

“He also made me try on lingerie but that wasn’t very appropriate for the stage,” you shrug. 

“Stop that,” he mutters angrily. 

You raise your brows, smirking at him, “why?” 

“You know why.” 

You shake your head, jutting your lip out as you pretend to think, “no, I don’t.” 

He looks hot. He ditched the leather jacket he was wearing earlier, left in a muscle shirt that shows off his toned arms and tattoos. He is wearing dark pants with his trusted belt with the handcuffs. The rings you love so much and the highlight of his outfit tonight; the bandana around his head. 

You take a step towards him, giving him an innocent smile, “you look nice,” you whisper, running your hand down his arm, “I love the bandana, Eddie.” 

He looks a little speechless, as though he doesn’t understand why you are talking to him like this, why you are touching him and acting the way you used to before it all went to shit. 

The way you look at him and the way you touch him, reminds him of the way you used to do when you just met but something about you seems different now, perhaps it’s the intensity of your feelings or the pain you have gone through ever since then. 

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he whispers. 

You nod, giving him a small smile. 

“You ready for the show?” 

“So ready,” he sighs with a smile on his face, “wanna go out together?” he asks, holding his hand out for you. 

You look down at it, heart fluttering in your chest. 

You always go out hand in hand, it shouldn’t be anything new and yet something about it feels different. Perhaps it’s because you are in his hometown, about to perform in front of his friends and family and he isn’t hiding you or your relationship. 

You look back into his eyes, seeing the softness in them, it somehow makes your heart ache. 

You place your hand in his and he smiles at you. You expect him to lead you to the stage but instead he raises your hand, “give me a twirl, sweetheart,” he grins. 

“Really?” you snort, knowing that he only wants to see what the back of your outfit looks like. 

He nods. 

Shaking your head, you chuckle and give him a twirl, the groan that leaves his lips gives you satisfaction. 

His eyes almost bulge out of his skull when he looks at the way your ass looks in those tight leather pants, “holy fuck.” 

The sound of your giggle fills him with warmth. He never thought he would get to hear it again, at least not directed at him. 

He can’t explain the sudden change of your behavior towards him, yesterday you still gave him the cold shoulder, side glances and huffs of annoyance, today, things seem different. Perhaps, you finally decided to give him a second chance, maybe you believe him now, hopefully you do. 

Holding your hand makes him happy, though he can still feel the tension in your body and see the distance in your eyes. You don’t trust him and maybe you never will but he is happy to at least have you like this. He will take the teasing over the cold shoulder any day. 

When you walk out onto the stage, he intertwines his fingers with yours and gives your hand a squeeze. 

You smile at Gareth and Jeff, you haven’t seen them since your arrival in Hawkins, you can’t believe it but you missed them. 

You look up at Eddie, watching the way his eyes glow with happiness and excitement as the people cheer for him, for the band. He waves at some people he recognizes from school, ones that didn’t give him a hard time. 

He looks at Wayne, a proud smile lingers on his face as he claps for his nephew. 

He looks at his friends, eying every single one of them with a big smile on his face. 

Eddie couldn’t be more blessed to have such amazing people in his life. His uncle and his friends always supported him, they were always there, they were the ones to encourage him to live his dream, they were the ones who had faith in him and then you came along and you made his dream so much bigger. 

Despite the pain he caused you, you look up at him with a soft smile on your face, pride and love in your eyes, for a second you push it all away, the pain, the heartbreak, the sadness. You look at him. You see the emotions in his eyes, the gratitude. You are happy for him. 

You know that Eddie had a hard time growing up here. This town caused him so much pain and suffering. People treated him poorly, his father abandoned him, childhood friends turned on him, kids at school bullied him, his girlfriend broke his heart and stomped all over it. 

The man that stands in front of you is still a broken child on the inside and you can see it behind all the happiness in his eyes. 

You let go of his hand, taking a step back from him, you reach for the microphone. 

Eddie gives you a puzzled look but you don’t look at him, looking at the crowd instead as you wait for them to quiet down. 

“I love you, y/n!” Lucas yells and you can’t even help but laugh, especially when Max hits his chest with a laugh. You form a heart with your fingers at him, laughing again when he places his hand over his heart. 

Eddie chuckles at him, shaking his head. He is happy to see you getting along with his friends. 

“Hello Hawkins,” you finally speak into the microphone, “thank you for giving me such a warm welcome but first, let’s give the guys some love, let’s give the stars of Hawkins a round of applause!” you say as you look at your bandmates with a grin on your face, clapping for them. 

Gareth gets up from behind his drums and starts clapping for himself, giving the audience a cocky grin before he blows you a playful kiss. Johnny chuckles at his friend, shaking his head as he looks at the audience. 

Jeff rolls his eyes at his friend, unable to fight the smile off his face though. He looks at the large crowd, this has been the fullest the place has ever been. Corroded Coffin never had much of an audience except for the five drunks who are cheering for them like crazy now. Jeff waves at them, grinning. 

“These guys are one of the best people I know. I'm glad you all found each other and created the best band in the world. Eddie,” you pause as you turn back to him. 

His gaze softens as he looks into your eyes. His heart begins to race as you bring all the attention to him. 

“I hope you can see how loved you are,” you say, gesturing to the audience, to his friends and his uncle, “you are the most talented person I know, the best performer in the world. Thank you for letting me be a part of your dream. Now, let’s give it up for Eddie Munson, my favorite rockstar.” 

Eddie can’t even hear all the cheering, the applause and his friends cheering his name. His heart is thumping and the biggest smile is resting on his face as he looks at you, watching the way you clap for him too as you smile at him. 

He can’t even help himself, walking towards you, he grabs you, swooping you off your feet, he holds you tightly, he hears your squeal even over the cheers that just got even louder. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and hug him tightly, enjoying the moment you have been craving for so long. 

Both of you close your eyes for a moment, hearts racing and fluttering but feeling whole again as you finally hold each other again. 

He smells your perfume as your hair falls in his face. 

“Thank you,” he whispers into your ear, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. 

“Go Eddie!” 

You both laugh at Lucas’s cheer. 

Eddie squeezes your waist as he places you back on your feet again, giving you a smile, he steps back and reaches for his microphone. 

“Thank you, guys,” he says as he looks into the audience, “we can’t start before welcoming my girl, my favorite rockstar, y/n was the one who made our band whole, she was the one who made our songs even better, the one who made it all better. Let’s give it up for the best rockstar of all time!” 

You blush at his words, watching the way he claps for you with the people. Smiling at him, you watch him get his guitar. 

While Eddie got to see your walls fall for a moment and he finally met your sweet and soft side again, he didn’t expect it to be over just as quickly as it came. The moment you started performing, you let the devil out. 

You were never shy on stage and you never had a problem being affectionate with him but today, you are different, so much more affectionate, intense and intimate. What may look like a normal performance to the audience, looks so much more intimate to Eddie. 

Your lust filled gazes, the mischievous looks in your eyes as you press yourself against him or run your fingers down his chest drives him crazy and it doesn’t even stop at that. 

As if he doesn’t already have a hard time controlling himself and his feelings, you end up getting on your knees, right in front of him. You lean back and arch your back, running your hand down your chest as you are singing your lungs out. 

Eddie’s eyes widen, he clenches his jaw as he stares at your body. You look sinful. 

Your hair is tousled, your skin is glowing, a satisfied look crosses your face as you rake your eyes down his body, winking at him before you move onto your knees, reaching your hand out to one of the girls in front of the stage, who takes it right away, eyes lighting up as she stares at you in awe. 

Eddie swallows harshly, fingers strumming the guitar as he leans forward to sing his part. He cannot tear his eyes away from you though, lingering on your ass now. God, the things he would do to you. 

He is grateful for his guitar, otherwise everyone would notice the tent in his black jeans. The thought of having to perform three more songs, seems like a torture to him and it truly ends up being torture. 

Your teasing never stopped, if anything you kept taking things further and further. 

He is enjoying himself but he does wonder what brought it on. 

When you raise your brows at him and tilt your head towards the entrance, he follows your eyes and finds her, Chrissy. Her arms are crossed and she stares at you with a scowl on her face, angry eyes flashing whenever you look her way. 

She is jealous of you, not because he loves you, not because he wants you but because you get the attention that she used to get. Chrissy never loved Eddie and thinking back to it, she knows they should have been nothing more than friends, perhaps things could have been better that way but it’s no use to ponder over what could’ve been. 

She doesn’t hate you but she hates that you were the reason for him to turn his back on her. Her anger only sparks when she looks at Jason who stands next to her with a smirk on his face as he eyes you with a hungry gaze in his eyes, the one that doesn’t go unnoticed by Eddie either as he finds him staring you down like some hungry animal. 

Eddie’s possessiveness gets the best of him and he ends up pulling you into his chest, leaning his forehead against yours as he grabs your microphone to sing with you. You smirk at him, licking your lips as his hand slides down to your lower back. 

You are his and he is yours and he wants everyone to know. 

-

After the concert, you and Eddie get pulled away by his and your new friends, they are still cheering you on, gushing about your performance. You smile as you watch Eddie being pulled into a hug by Dustin and his uncle. 

Wayne gives you a hug, patting your shoulder as he compliments your voice. Your heart warms at his words and the smile he gives you. You feel grateful for his kindness and you are very happy for Eddie to have someone as amazing as Wayne in his life. 

“Thank you so much,” you smile at him, “you must be so proud of Eddie.” 

He nods, “I am,” he chuckles as he glances at his nephew, “boy was always a troublemaker but I knew he was special.” 

“Yeah,” you smile, “he is very special.” 

The smile on Wayne’s face grows even bigger when he sees the way your eyes soften as you watch Eddie. 

“Hey Wayne, come here,” Eddie calls for him, “I gotta tell you something.” 

“Yeah, it’s super important,” Dustin chuckles. 

Wayne grabs his beer, excusing himself with a smile before he turns to Eddie. 

“Hey Rockstar,” Robin speaks into your ear as she comes up behind you, wrapping her arms around your shoulders, she pulls you back into her, “can I take you out on a date? Your performance did something to me.” 

You giggle at her words, turning to look at her with a smirk on your face, “sure, where are you taking me?” 

“My place,” she winks, flashing her pearly whites at you. 

You raise your brows at her, giggling, “let’s go,” you purr jokingly as you reach for her hand. 

“Whoa whoa,” Steve gasps as he interrupts your playful flirting, “why are you stealing her from me, Robin? Let me enjoy the groupie life for as long as I can,” he jokes, rolling his eyes. 

“Sorry, Stevie,” you pout, “I found my new groupie.” 

He clutches his heart, “ouch,” he mumbles, “and here I thought we had something special.” 

You slap his arm, laughing, “shut up.” 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Lucas and Max walking towards you. You turn towards them, smiling at the teens. Before stopping in front of you, Lucas already throws his hands up, eyes flashing with excitement, “you were so amazing!” he exclaims before he grabs Max’s hand again. 

“Yeah, you were so freaking cool,” Max smiles, “and I love your outfit, you look badass!” 

“You two are so sweet,” you say, smiling at the both of them, “thank you so much, guys.” 

Not only did you meet Steve and Robin, who quickly became some of your closest friends, you also met these two, their excitement whenever they see you makes you happy. Meeting them and the rest of the teens was one of your favorite parts about being coming to Hawkins, Eddie wasn’t lying when he told you about how amazing they all are. 

“You guys should totally come to LA when we’re back there,” you smile. 

“Oh my god,” Lucas mumbles, “we would love to, right?” he asks, grinning at Max. 

Her eyes widen, “duh, of course we would love to come to LA.” 

“Yeah, I would love that too,” Steve says, “but I still think that you should hire me as your stylist.” 

Max and Robin laugh at his words, “you?” 

You chuckle at the offended look on his face when he watches them eye him up and down, “uh yes, me,” he rolls his eyes, “who did you think went shopping with her?” he says, pointing to your outfit. 

“Yeah, Steve actually gives some pretty good fashion advice.” 

“Thank you,” he nods at you with a smile on his face. 

You turn around when you feel someone staring at you. He is standing by the pool table, a cocky look on his face as he eyes you up and down, next to him no other than Chrissy causing your smile to fall. 

You know who he is; Jason Carver. Blue eyes, blond hair, the mean look in his eyes and the expensive clothes are enough to give away his identity but then again, there must be ten Jason Carver’s in this town. Still, he stands out in the crowd, well, him and Chrissy stand out with their bright and fancy clothes, the disgusted looks on each of their faces as they look at the people around them. 

A sudden surge of anger runs through you, he is the one who made Eddie’s life a living hell, both of them. 

Your anger only intensifies when your eyes fall on Eddie, who is talking to a girl now. A bright smile is on his face, eyes flashing as he nods at whatever she is saying. 

Your heart drops, a weird feeling settles in your chest as you eye them. 

She is beautiful, short dark waves frame her face perfectly, her tanned skin looks soft under the dim light, she has tattoos on her right arm, ones that Eddie is touching now. 

Oh god, what is that feeling in your chest and in your stomach? 

He leans closer to her and it’s almost enough for you to leave, not wanting to see this. It was bad enough to find out about Chrissy, to see her kiss him, to see them hold hands but somehow this is worse. 

Suddenly, his eyes meet yours, a surprised look takes over his face when he sees you staring at him with a sour expression. He winks at you, he fucking winks at you before he goes back to the conversation. 

What the fuck? 

She raises her hand towards his face, touching his curls. Irritation and anger bubbles inside of you and you can’t even stop the curse word from falling. You want nothing more than to rip her hands off of him and drag him away. 

But he is letting her touch him and he even finds enjoyment in it, especially when his eyes find yours. 

Eddie has never done anything like this before. Sure he talked to his fans, girls that wanted to be his groupies so bad but Eddie never showed interest in them like that, he never even let them get too close, the conversations were polite, about the band or other interests he might share with them and that’s all. He never gave you a reason to feel jealous, you couldn’t even feel true jealousy when it came to Chrissy but right now, you have that ugly feeling in your chest and it makes you realize that you don’t want to see him with another girl. 

You down the drink that Steve ordered for you a while ago before you walk away from him and Robin, ignoring their confused glances as you walk towards Eddie. You push past a few people, giving them polite smiles. 

“No, it looks good but I still think that you should cut your hair.” You hear her say, you want to roll your eyes and scoff. 

Eddie’s eyes fall on you, his eyes light up. 

“I think his hair looks amazing like this,” you swoop in, stopping next to Eddie, you look at her with a smile on your face.

Her eyes widen as they lock with yours, her lips part in surprise and she blinks for a few seconds before she opens her mouth to speak, “o-oh my god, hi,” she stutters, “I’m such a big fan, y-you’re amazing and you look amazing,” she says as she takes a step back to look at you, “I’m Tara.” 

“Thanks,” you say, giving her a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes and that’s something that Eddie notices right away, he also notices the anger in your eyes and the jealousy. 

The girl doesn’t notice anything though, her eyes are wide, staring at you in shock as though she didn’t just see you singing on stage. 

Her giddiness would have been cute if you weren’t so distracted by the awful feelings inside of you. 

“Tara was just telling me that my hair would look better if it was shorter,” Eddie says, looking down at you with a smirk. 

You are jealous and that is something that fills him with excitement, not because he wants you to feel that way, you absolutely have no reason to feel that way but because this proves to him that you still want him, that you still have feelings for him, that you don’t want to see him with someone else because he belongs with you. 

You shake your head, stepping closer to Eddie, “no, I love your hair like this.” 

He notices the aggression behind your voice, the possessiveness in your eyes. It makes him crave you even more, it makes him want to kiss you right here, in front of all these people so he can show you that he only wants you, that he is all yours. 

Eddie notices the way Tara is staring at you and it makes the situation all the more amusing. 

He continues his conversation with her, fighting the smug look on his face, especially when you keep glaring daggers into him. You can hear your thoughts, you are mad, downright pissed, especially when she reaches out to touch his arm again. 

“I always wanted to get a bat tattoo.” 

“Oh, you should totally get one, it would look cool on you.” 

You squint your eyes and Eddie almost bursts into laughter. Your jealousy is something so unnecessary but it gives him hope. 

You still want him. 

And he would be lying to himself if he said that your possessiveness isn’t hot, especially when you finally have enough and drag him away from the girl after coming up with some lame excuse. Eddie can’t even contain the smile on his face. Your hand is holding onto his as you pull him into the backstage room, not wasting a second to slam him against the wall after closing the door. 

He almost moans at your action, especially when you press yourself against him. 

“What the hell was that, Eddie?” 

“What was what?” he smirks. 

The angry pout on your face makes you look both cute and sexy.

“Why were you flirting with her?” 

“I wasn’t–”

“I thought you said that you’re mine, that you belong to me,” you mumble, tilting your head as you look up at him with a frown on your face. 

He stares into your eyes and at your lips, “but you said that you don’t want me anymore,” he mumbles. 

You blink, sighing, you lean even closer to him. 

“You are mine, Eddie.” 

The hopeful and longing feeling has never been stronger than in this moment, especially when you stand on your tippy toes, brushing his long curls back, you latch your lips onto his neck the way he did to you the night at the roller rink. 

His eyes flutter closed and a sigh leaves his lips, butterflies going crazy in his stomach as you begin to kiss his neck. His hands fall to your waist, grabbing you tightly and pulling you flush against him. 

Out of all the things that he expected to happen tonight, this isn’t what he expected but god, does he love it. 

“I didn’t like the way she was touching you,” you mumble against his skin. 

He can’t even help but smirk, you are so clueless. 

He moans when you find his sweet spot, kissing and sucking on his skin, you mark him up, wanting to show everyone who he belongs to and he will wear those marks proudly. He enjoys himself and the things you say to him as you continue to kiss him.

So long he has gone without your touch. Sleepless nights and restless days haunted him ever since the night he lost you. He has been thinking of you day and night, craving your touch and longing to feel you in his arms, to feel your lips on his skin, to feel your love. 

He whimpers your name and you almost grow weak in the knees at the sound. 

“Baby,” he whispers, running his hands up and down your back now, a smug smile making it’s way on his face, “as much as I love this, you gotta know something.” 

“What?” you mumble as you pull away to face him. 

“She was more into you than me,” he smirks, hands gripping your waist tighter so you don’t walk away. 

He watches the way your brows furrow and he chuckles, “she’s like super gay, sweetheart.” 

Your puffy lips part and realization flashes in your eyes, “oh,” you whisper as you start blushing, suddenly drawing back as you grow embarrassed and annoyed, “why didn’t you tell me?” you mumble angrily, slapping his arm lightly. 

He bursts into laughter. 

Rolling your eyes, you push his hands off of you, suddenly feeling like escaping the situation but Eddie has different plans, he grabs your hand and pulls you back, this time he slams you against the wall though, pinning both wrists against the wall. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” 

He leans down, copying your actions, he moves your hair back and latches his lips onto your neck, kissing the spots above the hickey he gave you. 

“Eddie–”

“You know, I’m flattered,” he whispers as he kisses down your neck until his lips are right beneath your collarbone, sucking on your skin, he leaves more visible hickeys, “I’m glad to know that you still want me.” 

You whimper at his touches, throwing your head back against the wall, you let him touch you and kiss you again, even though everything in you screams at you to push him away. 

The cold metal of his rings sends shivers down your spine as he runs his hands down your back, you mewl at the feeling of his hands squeezing your ass. 

“I’ve wanted to do this ever since I’ve seen your ass in these pants,” he groans against your skin, “you’re so fucking sexy, baby.”

He shoves his leg between your thighs, pressing it against your center. 

“Eddie,” you moan, “s-stop.” 

“I’m yours, you already know that, sweetheart,” he whispers, “but I hope you know that you are mine, you’re not Steve’s or anyone else’s, you’re mine.” 

“Am I?” you ask, whimpering when you feel him against your stomach. 

“Mhmm, you are mine,” he says, pulling away from your chest, he stares at the marks he left behind in satisfaction before he faces you again, smirking at the lust filled eyes. Wrapping his hand around your throat, he stares at your lips. The urge to kiss you is so bad but he doesn’t, he leans in though, staring at your eyes and the way they widen when he gets closer to you. He hears the hitch in your breath and the way you tense up slightly. 

His lips touch the corner of your mouth, placing an ever soft kiss there. 

“I know you still want me.” 

You look into his eyes. To someone else, he would look smug and arrogant and yes, he does but there is also softness in his eyes and hope. 

“I know you miss me.” 

Yes, you do. 

“I miss you,” he whispers, “I miss being with you, I miss having you in my arms, I miss kissing you,” he says as he places another kiss to the corner of your mouth, “I miss hearing those pretty sounds you make when I touch you.” 

No, no, no….

His words and his touches make you feel dizzy, you want to throw yourself at him, you want to kiss him, you want him to take you. 

You can’t even help but stare at his lips and lean in a little. You want him so bad, you want him to kiss you until you're breathless, you miss him, you miss the feeling of him too. 

Just as you’re about to say ‘fuck it’ and smash your lips against his, something that definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by him, he pulls away, letting go of you and taking a few steps back, a smirk appearing on his face when he sees the irritated and confused look on your face. 

“But you wanted me to stay away from you, so I’ll do that.” 

Is he serious? 

“If you want me to stay, just say so.” 

But of course you won’t tell him to stay, not only are you confused and irritated, you are also really stubborn. 

Rolling your eyes, you scoff, shoulders slumping as you lean back against the wall. 

Eddie chuckles, “you know where to find me,” he says before leaving the room, slamming the door shut and leaving you standing there. 

He walks back into the crowded room, the smug look still lingering on his face. He finds Steve and Robin hanging out with Jeff and Gareth, he orders himself a drink before he joins them, all of them in the middle of a heated conversation about what Christmas movie is the best. Eddie doesn’t listen to them though, instead he keeps his eyes on the door in the dark hallway, waiting for you to come out of the room and when you do, he is not met with the expression he expected. 

You look annoyed and frustrated as you push past a few people, coat in your hand as you make your way towards the entrance, you left your handbag behind but he can see the pack of cigarettes in your hand. He follows you with his eyes, chuckling when you turn around to look at him, your brattiness comes out when you roll your eyes at him again. 

He drinks his beer, waving at you, he laughs when he sees you mumbling something under your breath before you walk out. 

Placing the bottle on the table, he gets up to follow you but before he can even take a step towards the door, Wayne calls his name, waving him over to his friends, “come here, boy.” 

Steve raises his head to look at Eddie, watching him leave when his eyes fall on Chrissy who rushes out of the bar, moments after you.

-

The fresh air cools you down a little. The cold kissing your warm cheeks. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath before you place the cigarette between your lips, a stupid habit you developed over the past few months. You don’t always smoke and probably go through only one or two packs a month. 

Rummaging through your pocket, you look for the lighter, groaning in annoyance when you find none, you don’t pay mind to the door closing or the footsteps on the snowy ground, too busy hoping to find your trusted lighter in the other pocket. 

“Hey.” 

You freeze, the sound of her voice causing you to tense up. Taking the cigarette between your thumb and forefinger, you pull it away and turn to face her. 

“Chrissy..” 

Her brows are raised, a false smile on her face as she looks you up and down. 

“Can I help you?” 

She shrugs, smiling at you as her eyes meet yours. 

She looks sweet, she sounds sweet, her smile is pretty, overall she looks like a pretty and kind girl but you can see right through her, though you can see how she was able to fool Eddie. 

“I just wanna warn you.” 

You can’t even help but chuckle at her words, at the faked concern in her eyes. 

“Oh, about what?” 

“About Eddie,” she says, taking a step towards you, “he is not who you think he is. You know, sweet and loyal– but you know that already, I mean, he cheated on me with you so..” 

You frown at her words, wanting to defend him but you opt to hear her out first, curious about the things she has to say. 

“Eddie may seem like a good guy–”

“He is a good guy,” you say, interrupting her. 

She huffs a little but the polite look on her face remains. 

“Is he? He cheated and he lied to both of us.”

Your eyes dart away from her, a sigh leaving your lips as you cross your arms over your chest. 

“How long has he kept me a secret, y/n?” she asks, walking even closer to you, “all this time, right?” 

Your clenched jaw and the annoyed look in your eyes gives her the answer that she’s waiting for. 

“He never told you anything about me because he knew that you wouldn’t want him if he did,” she shrugs, “he used you.” 

“Did he?” you ask, eyes meeting her’s again. 

She nods, “yeah, I mean why else would he want you to join the band?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, dropping your arms, you smile at her, “you tell me, he was your boyfriend.” 

She squints her eyes and tilts her head. 

“He knew who you were, he knew who your dad was. I mean, did you really believe him when he told you that he didn’t know you? His uncle loves your dad’s music and as far as I remember, you were in magazines before you even joined the band, so do you really think that Eddie hasn’t seen you before?” 

Her words cut deep but you don’t show it, the amused smile on your face irritates her and you can see it as the nice girl facade begins to crumble. 

You swallow harshly, blinking as you stare into her cold eyes. You would be lying if you said that her words didn’t make your stomach drop a little. 

She is getting under your skin and she knows it. 

“Eddie called me after he met you, he told me how he hit the ‘jackpot’,” she chuckles in satisfaction, “he knew that he would finally get what he always wanted with you by his side.” 

When Steve told you about her, he didn’t leave out her special ability to lie and yet, you easily believe her, not because you would ever trust her but because those things lingered in the back of your mind ever since that night in Cincinnati. 

“And look, he did get it all. The album, the fame, the tour, the money and that’s all thanks to you. He needed you. I mean thanks to you, he isn’t some useless freak anymore.” 

Your breathing quickens, heart racing in your chest as you stare at her. 

“You are pretty, y/n,” she smiles, “and your dad is– I’m sorry, was famous, that’s why people like you so much, that’s why he likes you so much but Eddie rarely ever sticks to one girl as you can tell. He will grow sick of you and once that happens, he will run the way he always does.” 

‘Don’t believe her, believe him’ you tell yourself, you know what she is trying to do. She is trying to manipulate her, the way she manipulated him before. 

You push the pain away, the insecurities and the doubt. 

You think about the things Steve told you about Chrissy, about Eddie and her, about their relationship. How she lied to him, how she treated him, how she cheated and manipulated him all these years. 

Anger rushes through you, she sabotaged her own relationship and now she is trying to sabotage you and Eddie. 

“You know what, Chrissy?” 

She tilts her head, giving you another one of her sweet smiles. 

Neither of you notice the person walking out of the bar, both too focused on each other. 

“Eddie is the sweetest person I know, the best person I’ve ever met and yeah, what he did wasn’t right and I won’t excuse that but he should’ve left your sorry ass a long time ago. You never deserved him. He is way too good for you, he was always way too good for you. You used him, you manipulated him, you treated him like shit and cheated on him and now you’re standing here in front of me and have the nerve to act like the victim? You’re an awful person, Chrissy. If you would’ve treated him right, he would’ve never done this to you, he wouldn’t leave, he wouldn’t lie and he certainly wouldn’t cheat. This is all on you, ” you say angrily, shaking your head at her, “You’re a fucking idiot, Chrissy.” 

Her lips part and she stares at you in both shock and anger. 

“I’m an idiot?” she scoffs, pointing to herself. 

“Yeah,” you nod, “I know he gave everything he could, his love, his heart, I mean he wrote songs for you, you don’t just write them about anyone, he loved you and you broke his heart.” 

You search for the guilt and the regret in her eyes and maybe there is some, somewhere behind all the anger. 

“He was always happy with me.” 

You can’t even stop the laugh from escaping. Shaking your head, you look behind her, finally noticing Steve, who looks between the two of you with a concerned look on his face. 

“Oh, is that so?” you ask, looking back at her, “then why did he leave?” 

Your words irritate her and you can see it clearly, it only makes you want to throw more fuel into the fire. 

“If he was so happy with you, why did he run away from you?” 

She frowns and crosses her arms, huffing as she looks away. 

“If he was so happy with you, then why was he so desperate for me? Why did he feel the need to come crawling into my bed?” 

She clenches her jaw, she is bouncing her leg, cheeks growing red from the anger. 

“Chrissy?” 

Three pairs of eyes land on the blond man as he steps out into the cold as well. He furrows his brows as he finds Steve standing by the door, he sizes him up before he turns to look at her, eyes moving between the two of you. 

“Everything okay?” he mumbles, walking towards her. 

“Yeah,” she whispers, her big eyes and pouty lips making her look vulnerable. She steps towards him, taking his hand. 

You roll your eyes, scoffing at the innocent act of hers. Stepping away from her, you make your way towards Steve. 

“Did you know that Eddie used to sell drugs?” 

You halt in your tracks, eying Steve for a moment, he shakes his head at you, begging with his eyes to ignore her words but you still whirled back around. 

Chrissy stares at you with a look in her eyes that you should probably be scared of.

You shrug, “yeah, so?”

“He also sold heroin and cocaine.” 

Your mouth twists and shivers run down your spine, you know exactly where this is going. 

“Did you know that he uses it too?” she asks, tilting her head, “go to his trailer right now, you’ll find some.” 

No… 

“He used to snort cocaine like every night.” 

“Chrissy,” Steve warns. 

“Do you really wanna be with someone like that? Someone like your dad?”

Your blood runs cold, you freeze and your eyes widen as you stare at her in confusion. 

“You really loved your dad, didn’t you?” she asks, pouting, “it must have been so hard for you to find him dead on the bathroom floor with that disgusting needle sticking in his skin.”

All color drained out of your face the moment those words left her lips, angry tears well up in your eyes. 

“That’s enough,” you hear Steve say as he walks towards you, he looks at you in concern, seeing the angry and pained look in your eyes, “let’s go, y/n,” he whispers, placing his hand on your shoulder but you don’t move, you hold your chin up high and raise your brows, urging her to continue. 

“You will find Eddie just like you found him. Are you gonna survive that a second time?"

Steve could see the way her words hit you. He doesn’t know whether you want to scream or to cry but it breaks his heart to see you like this. 

“Leave her alone, Chrissy,” Jason mumbles, rolling his eyes as he tugs at her hand, “let them ruin each other, that trailer trash finally found himself a princess.” 

She chuckles at his words. 

“Dude,” Steve warns, glaring at the former jock, “shut the hell up.” 

“You wanna say something to me, King Steve?” he says mockingly, “you think I’m scared of you?” 

“You should be,” you mutter, pushing away all the shock and pain, “your little girlfriend over here has been trying to fuck him for the past two years, all he has to do is whistle and she’ll come running like a dog.” 

Chrissy gasps at your words but he only frowns at you. 

Steve snorts but covers it up with a cough. 

“You’re Jason, right?” you ask, walking towards the blond. 

“Yeah.” 

“Why don’t you take your girlfriend and get the fuck out of here, you clearly don’t belong here,” you mutter angrily as you step closer to him, eyeing his white button down beneath the black coat,  “this isn’t some concert sponsored by your shitty church.” 

He grins at you, irritating you further. 

“Oh yeah, I just wanted to see what that freak made out of his life, didn’t think he would ever make it out of the trash park, I think he fit in there pretty well. That piece of garbage–” 

Your fist meets his face before he can even finish his sentence.

“Fucking asshole.”

He grunts in pain as he stumbles back, Chrissy shrieks as she rushes to his side, “Jason!” 

He pushes her hand away, holding his hand in front of his eye, “you crazy bitch!” 

Another fist meets his face but this time it isn’t yours, it’s Eddie’s.

If it wasn’t for Chrissy holding him up, he would’ve dropped to the ground. He clutches his nose, grunting and groaning in pain. 

“You wanna say that again, Carver?”

Your heart begins to pound in your chest as you look at Eddie, who stares at the blond in anger. Jason pushes Chrissy away about to move towards Eddie. 

Steve grabs your waist and pulls you back, knowing that you will jump in front of Eddie, “that’s enough, troublemaker,” he mumbles as he holds you against him. 

Chrissy jumps in between both men, placing her hands on Jason’s chest, “Jason, stop! Let’s just go, you’re bleeding already!” 

He tries to push her away but she doesn’t budge, “please.” 

“Yeah, listen to your girlfriend, Jason,” Eddie spits.

The tension is high and the anger is all around you as you all stare each other down. 

“Get the fuck out of here!” Eddie yells at him. 

Jason scoffs, “fucking prick,” he mumbles. 

Chrissy looks back to you, intense and angry eyes staring at you. 

“You’re gonna regret that.” 

“Just fuck off, Chrissy,” you mumble. 

She rolls her eyes, scoffing at you and Eddie before she leaves with Jason. 

“Jesus,” Steve mumbles, finally letting go of you, “are you okay?” he asks with a soft tone in his voice. 

Eddie turns to you as well, rushing towards you, his concerned eyes are the first thing you see when you look at his face, he grabs your hand, checking your knuckles for any injuries but you pull your hand away and look down, “I’m fine.” 

You take a deep breath and close your eyes, the moment you feel yourself relaxing. Your tears come back, threatening to spill. 

Steve whispers your name, still staring down at you in worry. What Chrissy said about your dad was true, he saw it in your eyes when she said it. 

“W-What happened?” Eddie asks as he looks between you and him. 

Steve avoids his eyes, not knowing what to say. 

Your breathing quickens, eyes burning as you open them. 

How does she know? 

“C-Can someone take me home, please?” you asked brokenly. 

Both men stare at you in concern and sadness, wanting nothing more than to pull you into a hug. 

Eddie glances at Steve who gives him a sad smile and a look that tells him; she needs you now. 

“I’ll walk you home, sweetheart,” Eddie whispers. 

“Do you want me to drive you?” 

Eddie shakes his head, “no, it’s fine, the motel isn’t that far away.” 

“Yeah,” you say, raising your head to look at Steve, you try to give him a smile, “see you tomorrow?” 

He nods, taking your hand, he squeezes it softly, “yeah, call me later if you need me, okay?” 

Your gaze softens, squeezing his hand back, you smile, “okay, good night, Stevie.” 

“Good night, y/n,” he whispers, pulling you closer, he kisses the top of your head, “I’m sorry about what happened.” 

“It’s okay, I’ll be okay.” 

Your words worry Eddie even more, he frowns, heart aching in his chest when he sees the glint of sadness in your eyes. He reaches for your hand after you pull away from Steve. 

The first five minutes of your walk are spent in silence. You don’t speak up and neither does he, despite the concern and the anger he still feels as he thinks of Chrissy and Jason. 

You sniffle, trying to keep the tears from spilling. You look ahead, watching the snow fall, painting everything even whiter than before. The cold wind is harsh and it only makes your tears well up even more. 

A hollow feeling settles inside of you. 

Images of your dad laying dead on the bathroom floor are back in your mind, images you always try to push out, you don’t want to think about it, you hate thinking about it. 

You feel nauseous and scared when you think of Eddie being in his place. 

Was she telling you the truth? 

Eddie never gave any signs that he was using drugs. He never wiped his nose after leaving the bathroom, he never sneaked away, his pupils looked normal, his skin was clean, his behavior was normal and yet, her words left you feeling sick and anxious. 

You can’t do this. 

You can’t lose him. 

You can’t go through this again. 

“I can’t do this.” 

You stop walking and let go of his hand. Eddie halts in his tracks, looking down at your hand before he glances at you, “w-what?”

Your bottom lip quivers. You don’t look up at him, you can’t. 

“I can’t do this again,” you mumble.

Your hands are shaking, not from the cold but from the fear. His heart breaks all over when he sees how broken and scared you look. Rushing towards you, he cups your cheeks, “what are you talking about?” he whispers as he tries to get you to look into his eyes. 

“I can’t stay in the band.” 

His stomach drops, eyes flashing with fear, “what?” 

Tears brimmed your eyes as you finally looked up at him, “are you using drugs?” 

You search for the truth in his eyes but you only find shock and confusion. 

“I– what?” 

-

tagging mutuals and friends! @prettyboyeddiemunson @littledemondani @wroteclassicaly @corrodedcorpses @mysticmunson @aftermidnightwriting @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @sherrylyn628 @yearwalker96

[loveswrites]

ok so how about cullen poly during the fight scene in the fourth movie orrrr cullen poly with how spending a day with them would be like

Tomorrow Poly Cullens x reader

Summary: Basically what the lovely anon asked for but I didn’t listen what so ever so I might make a part two if you guys want.

Etc: And if you loves want a part two let me know and drop some ideas for what they could do in their two hours aloneee. Also thank you my loves for all of the notes it encourages me to write more things for you guys and not just myself lol <3

Word count: 1694

Time it took: 1 hour and 40 minutes

“How could you be like a thousand years old and still so stupid!” You huffed holding your head in your hand. You and the Cullens had been fighting lately. You don’t know why.. Well maybe you have something to do with it.

“How am I stupid? I really can’t hangout with you today my darling. We need to hunt. Especially Jasper, with you being around a lot more his hunger levels tend to double.” Carlisle said. You could just picture him looking at you in sympathy. 

You had called him because apparently all of your lovers are just too busy to hang out with you. You thought Carlisle would be free seeing as he was off today but I guess that wasn’t the case. He was off to go hunting with the rest of the family. Jasper had to leave earlier than the rest. So Alice, Emmett and Esme went with him. You thought Edward would be free since he didn’t go with him but he was in one of his petty moods ever since you went to hang out with Seth and Jacob with Bella. You told him he had nothing to worry about but he insisted that he did. Him and his stupid stupid mind reading. Which led to a fight with him so he was on the bottom of the roster right now.

Then there was Rosalie which was just a hard no for you. You didn’t want to hang out with her right now. Why you may ask? She threw away your pasta three days ago because she said it stunk. Who is she to throw away your pasta? You don’t walk around here popping her blood bags because you don’t like the way it looks to you. Maybe you should. I thought about it for a while and eventually said it out loud, Which was another fight with her that you could just add to the list.

So that left Carlisle who was perfect. Just perfect. He had picked you up from school just earlier today because you told him that you needed a ride. Since everyone else was busy he came and got you. Which he usually doesn’t do because it draws attention. But by now everyone was used to you being with and around the Cullens. Though they don’t know that you date them all. They only know that you date Jasper and Edward which they already thought was weird as hell. But you never cared. You're in love with two vampires that are the downfall to all of the human race. And you think that the world can know that. Know just enough without blowing the cover of it all.

“My love, I know that you are disappointed and upset with us but sadly there is nothing that I can offer for a solution.” Carlisle said after hearing your long aspirated sigh. 

“It’s like you guys are avoiding me. I don’t feel loved at all. I want some love without an argument following through not even two minutes in.” You said, Stripping yourself of your clothes preparing to take a shower since you had nothing better to do. 

“We are not avoiding you-” Carlisle paused and you could hear voices in the background. Listening closely you could hear that it was Esme.

“Is that-”

“I’m sorry but I have to go, the hospital is calling.” He rushed out and before you could even say a word the line was clear. 

Pulling your phone away from your ear you could do nothing but stare at it in disbelief. He hung up on you. And not only that but you were completely sure that that was Esme's voice in the background. No one else around her sounds like her. And you know damn well the hospital did not call him. He was lying. Esme was lying. They’re all lying. 

You couldn’t feel anything but disbelief. 

You knew they lied to just about everyone but that was to protect their family. Not everyone in the town could know that they drink animal blood and sparkle in the sun like a fucking case of glitter. But you knew those things already. You’ve seen those things already. So there would be no reason to hide anything from you. At all. 

Finding a new sense of adventure sparling through your veins you put your clothes back on now determined to find some answers. 

Running down the stairs with your bookbag you almost bumped into Charlie. “Woah there kiddo, What's the rush?!” He yelled out to you as you ran past him.

“I’ll be back later, don't worry I just need to see something really quick!” You yelled back getting into your car Carlisle got you for your last birthday. You had told him that was a big mistake. Even though He bought you a car you always felt guilty using it because you didn’t want it to look like you were using him. So you’d always catch a ride with one of them or go with bella. But right now you didn’t care about any of that. 

Pulling up to the Cullens residents It looked deserted. But then again when did it not? Parking your car you walked up to the door which was already being opened by Alice. Once you saw her you immediately frowned. She was supposed to be with Jasper just like Esme was. 

“What are you-”

“You need to go home.” Alice said firmly with her head held high light always.

“What? I don’t understand, why are you here?” You grow your eyebrows in confusion.

“Cleaning. Now go.” She said pointing back to your car.

“Do you see me walking away from this house anytime soon Alice?” You said standing your ground. She wasn’t just about to go and rush you away when you had only just gotten here. Seeing her face you knew the answer. 

You pushed her out of the way gently but made it known that you were going to back down and bow like a little puppy. 

As you walked closer to the heart of the house you heard mumbling and hushed whispers. Finally reaching your destination your eyes widened a little with what you saw. And your heart skipped a couple of beats.

Standing in front of you there was a sign on the wall that read. "We're so sorry’ And the loves of your life were each holding a sign that read ‘I love you because…’

“I know we lied to you but we had too. It was the only way for us to be able to put something together to try and show you the love that we have for you. You came sooner than expected.” Jasper said, looking a little ashamed. Him and his southern accent would always make you smile. Sometimes you wondered if it was just him. Or him using his powers on you. But either way you didn’t care it made you happy.

“Once Alice saw you coming we had to throw something together really fast. We were still brainstorming ideas Roslise didn’t like anything we suggested.” Edward said, shooting Rose a pointed look making you let out a small laugh. That was more like a sigh of relief. 

“It wasn’t enough, all their Ideas sucked. You deserve nothing but the best and I think I'm the only one in this room that understands that.” Rose said in her know it all tone that you loved so much.

“When you said over the phone early that you didn’t feel loved anymore that broke a piece of my heart. I- We never want you to feel that way. We want you to feel like the most loved person in this world. Because you are my love. We would die for you.” Carlisle said taking a step closer to you.

“I’d live for you.” Edward said, taking a step closer to you.

“Fight for you.” Jasper and Emmett said at the same time. Also taking a step closer to you.

“Smile for you.” Rose said, taking her step.

“Care for you.” Esme said taking a step as well.

“We couldn’t imagine a life without you and we're going to prove it to you. Starting today.” Esme said.

“Well more like tomorrow.” Rose said Shrugging her shoulders when everyone looked at her with a look as if to tell her to shut up.

“Rose is right, the full day starts tomorrow but doesn’t mean we can’t start tonight. You’ll have at least 2 hours with each of us until it’s time for us all to gather together. Since tomorrow is saturday.” Carlisle said kissing the top of your forehead, making you smile. Realizing you hadn’t said a word in a while you decided to throw something out there.

“Really?” You whispered but you know they heard you. Perks of being a vampire.

“Yes.” They all said collectively. 

This made you so over filled with joy squealing you kissed all of your lovers with a big wide smile on your face. They of course kissed you back like they always do. Biting your bottom lip in anticipation you looked up at all of them in expectation. Making them all break out with a soft smile. In admiration. 

“So what’s first?” You said basically bouncing up and down in excitement.

“I mean we could take you up to the bedroom right now and start the fun immediately.” Emmett smirked looking you up and down with suggestive eyes. 

“Emmett!” You all said collectively.

“What? What did I say wrong? Don’t tell me you all haven't been thinking the same thing.” 

Tomorrow just couldn’t get here fast enough.

[last-herondale]

Almost Pt. 3

Bucky Barnes x FemReader! (Steve Rogers x Femreader!)

Angst, heartbreak, sadness

AN: Hellllooooo here is part 3! I will probably post part 4 later today. Initially it was all one piece together but I decided to break it up. This series took a turn that even I wasn’t expecting, but not to worry. It will still be a Bucky Barnes centric story 😁

Part 4

Ps. Sorry for breaking some hearts 😩

Enjoy! 🤘🏼

The last three months had been a blur. You hadn’t expected things to turn out as they had, by any means necessary. The plan was simple enough when it started. Leave town, keep busy, and try your best to not think about James Buchanan Barnes.

The first two had been easy enough to accomplish. The next mission that popped up, you were there as the first volunteer. You didn’t care about the destination. The farther away from New York the better, but anywhere was better than staying at the tower. The idea of being in such proximity to him at all times made your heart ache. The idea of being away from him hurt too, but out of the two options you decided that having some distance from it all would be the best thing for you.

So you were shipped off, along with Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson to some remote part of South America to track some reported movement of Hydra shipments. It was supposed to be a quick trip. Gather info, infiltrate the base, and destroy the cargo. Easy. Simple. 

But of course, you couldn’t be that lucky. 

You had to admit, during the mission your mindset had been a bit reckless… You were constantly itching for battle, something to do, bad people to hurt. Anything to keep your mind off of him… the memory of that night on the balcony when he had denied your heart. You felt shattered. Like a hollow shell of the person you were. You weren’t thinking clearly and you paid for it.

During the recon part of the mission, Sam was running flank around the perimeter from the sky while you and Steve scouted the area. They had gone over the plan with you at least a dozen times, and each time you assured them you knew what you needed to do. You lied and told them you were good. You were solid. And you tried to make that a reality. You tried to stay focused on the mission, but the image of Bucky’s face from that night kept interrupting your train of thought. The memories of that night and nights before. The longing, the ache from missing him… you didn’t see the trap until it was too late. 

Sharp barbed metallic wires entangled you in the thick underbrush of the jungle. The spikes wrapped themselves around you like a coiling snake, inching the thick barbs deeper into your skin. You were on the floor, a small sound of pain escaped your lips as the wire continued to tighten. Any sort of movement caused the wire to tighten even more, so you just laid there, hoping that Steve wasn’t too far behind.

Your mind thought of Bucky. You hated yourself for thinking of him now, but you did. You wished he was there. Even seeing him, hearing his voice, if this was the stupid idiotic way that you would die, at least you would have him there as you did. You felt drowsy all at once. The sky began to blur and everything began to feel fuzzy.

Poison. The barbs must have been laced with something. You felt your heart slamming against your chest as you lost the ability to scream, to talk, to cry…

Suddenly you felt the tension that was holding you release suddenly. Your body went limp on the ground as you tried to make out the shapes in the fuzzy world. You saw a figure above you, and the faint outlines of his golden hair. Steve. You felt yourself being lifted up in his strong arms. He was saying something frantically at you, but the world had just become one large echo. You tried to tell him. You used all of your strength, all of your will power to utter one word.

Poison.

The world turned black and all sense and all meaning fell away.

~

You woke up in dim lighting. Your eyelids felt as if they weighed a thousand pounds, but still you were able to finally lift them. You had been brought back to some sort of small shack. The walls were wooden and the room was dank and small. You had been sitting on a rough couch. You looked down at yourself and saw that you were covered in bandages. Anywhere that the barbs had cut into, which seemed like the majority of your skin, had been covered with heavy set bandages that had an odd smell. You wrinkled your nose and groaned when you tried to lift your arm to remove one of the bandages.

“Don’t mess with them,” Steve’s voice came from behind you, “They have a salve on them that is counteracting the poison.”

You tried to focus your eyes on him as he came to sit on the opposite side of the couch. Your vision was still a bit blurry but you could make out the angry look on his face as he looked at you. You realized that this must be one of the safe houses that Tony had set up for this mission. The realization of failure sunk deep into your soul.

“Mm ssssorry,” you mumbled. You hadn’t gained control of your speech yet and you sounded very drunk.

“What the hell happened? You should have seen that trap a mile away!” Steve said angrily. He had his arms crossed, the shape of his muscles were highlighted in his black stealth wear.

You wanted to explain. You wanted to apologize for what happened. But your mind and your body were working at two different speeds. You felt hot tears of embarrassment fall down your face. Your chest began to heave a bit. It was all too much. You were failing Steve, you had failed Bucky, and somehow in every way you felt as if you had failed yourself. Nothing was going right anymore. You didn’t know what else you could lose before completely falling apart.

Steve’s face softened as he saw you cry. Tears continued to fall down your face and broken sobs escaped your lips. He knelt down in front of you and grabbed a leftover bandage from the table and began to gently wipe your face.

“Are you in pain? What hurts?” he asked, raking his eyes over your bandaged body.

“Everything… every…thing,” you sobbed.

Steve’s eyes widened a bit. He gazed at you for a moment and gave a small sigh. You weren’t sure if he understood. That this pain went deeper than the physical nerves. You had never talked to him about your feelings for Bucky, even though he was around a lot whenever you hung out with him. You averted your gaze from him, unable to bare the weight of his soft eyes. Steve pushed a strand of hair out of your face, wiped away the rest of your tears, and gently covered your body with a blanket.

“It’ll be okay. You will get through this,” he had said as he gave you medicine for the physical pain. You instantly felt sleepy after taking it, and allowed yourself to watch as Steve walked away from the couch and began working at the small kitchen table, typing away on one of Tony’s communicators. You watched him, feeling comforted and safe, as you fell asleep.

[aspoonofsugar]

Charlie's Angels

Don't you love Hazbin Hotel's angels? I do! Especially two of them:

So, here is a meta about my two favourite angels and two of my favourite characters in general!

FALLEN ANGELS

Vaggie and Lucifer are considered weird by other angels:

Lute: Sinful filth like you has NO place in heaven.

Charlie: Lucifer was one of these angels. He was a dreamer with fantastical ideas for all of creation. But he was seen as a troublemaker by the elders of Heaven. For they felt his way of thinking was dangerous to the order of their world.

Vaggie is "weak" because she shows pity, whereas Lucifer is "dangerous " because he thinks in original ways. These differences eventually lead them to be discarded by Heaven:

They become fallen angels and end up in Hell, where they find love and family:

Still, their heavenly upbringing sticks with them. In particular, both Vaggie and Lucifer are traumatized by their respective authority figures.

Vaggie has been indoctrinated by Adam to the point she feels she has no value if she fails:

Vaggie: If I can't help you, what's the point of me?

Lucifer was crushed by the Elders of Heaven and still fears them:

Lucifer: I just don't want you to be crushed by them like- Like I was.

As a result, they:

hide parts of themselves from Charlie: Vaggie conceals her past out of fear. Lucifer instead masks his vulnerability out of shame.

project their unsolved issues on Charlie: Vaggie thinks Charlie's love for her is conditional and lies to her. Lucifer wants to protect Charlie from Heaven to the point he infantilizes her.

So, their impact on the story is double:

Charlie must become able to see Vaggie and Lucifer's hidden parts, if she wants to grow

Vaggie and Lucifer need to change and solve their issues for Charlie's sake

Both these developments tie with the Jungian symbolism of light and shadow.

LIGHT AND SHADOW

Light and shadow are two Jungian Archetypes aka two complementary parts of the human mind:

Light is associated to the persona or mask. It is what a person shows while interacting with the world.

The shadow is what is hidden in the darkness. It is what a person represses and refuses to reveal to the world.

When it comes to Vaggie and Lucifer's role in season 1:

Charlie must accept both Vaggie and Lucifer's shadows and lights. Only in this way she can learn nuance.

Vaggie and Lucifer must face their darkest parts, their shadows and integrate with them. Only in this way they can mature.

Let's explore these parallels journeys.

CHARLIE: BLACK AND WHITE

Vaggie and Lucifer are similar people, but Charlie sees of them opposite things:

She sees Vaggie trying to save the sinners in the present, but ignores she was once an exorcist who murdered thousands of hell people

She sees Lucifer permitting the exterminations in the present, but she ignores that in the past he tried to help sinners like Charlie is doing now

In other words, Charlie sees Vaggie and Lucifer in black and white. In particular, she sees only the white in Vaggie and the black in Lucifer.

White Vaggie

Vaggie and Charlie have been together for three years, but Charlie still knows nothing about her girlfriend's past. Not only that, but it is obvious something is off about Vaggie. She is deeply insecure, overperforming and she basically says she learnt how to trust while fighting in the trenches:

Vaggie: I just need to teach them, the way I was taught… The scene changes to the group standing on a rooftop with half-destroyed buildings all around them. Everyone was shocked that the exercise has taken them to a live turf war battlefield with guns blazing in the background, demons screaming, and explosions booming. Charlie: THIS IS HOW YOU LEARNED TO TRUST PEOPLE?!

And yet, Charlie ignores all these red flags and never tries to go deeper in her understanding of Vaggie. She idealizes her.

Black Lucifer

Lucifer and Lilith have both been absent and have neglected Charlie. However, she only calls out Lucifer, while she justifies Lilith:

Charlie: After he and mom split, he never really wanted to see me. He calls… sometimes, but only if he's bored or like, needs me to do something.

Vaggie: Oof… how long has it been now? Charlie: Not that long, only…seven….years, off doing something important, I'm sure!

Similarly, she acts as if she is upholding only Lilith's legacy:

Charlie: But Lilith's hope remained. And her dream was passed down to their precious daughter, the Princess of Hell.

But the story makes clear the Hazbin Hotel is really an evolution of Lucifer's original dream, as well:

Charlie: So in the end, it's the view I had of you That showed me dreams can be worth fighting for

In short, Lucifer and Lilith have very similar flaws and qualities, but Charlie tends to compartimentalize them, so that Lucifer is cast in a less favourable light, while Lilith is put on a pedestal.

Microchosm and macrochosm

Charlie isn't wrong in her assessment of Vaggie and Lucifer. She is right about Vaggie's good qualities and she has all reasons to call Lucifer out. The point is that there is more to both and Charlie must become able to see it. Just like she must learn to see the shades of gray present in both Heaven and Hell:

Vaggie: Those angels' minds are hard to change.

Lucifer: Charlie! You don't understand. Heaven never listens. They didn't listen to me. They won't listen to you!

Symbolically, Vaggie and Lucifer both try to warn the Princess about Heaven's complexity, but Charlie is initially stuck in a simplistic white and black mentality. Thanks to the two fallen angels and to her trip to Heaven, though, she starts grappling with complexity on both a personal level (microchosm) and on a wider political scale (macrochosm).

Personal level

Lucifer hides his weakness and shortcomings behind a powerful and cold mask:

Lucifer: Alright, I mean, look… I love that you want to see the best in people, but these sinners… You know, they're just the worst. I, I don't know how much you can realistically expect from them in Heaven.

Still, once he opens up and brings to light his real self, Charlie sees how similar she is to him and is able to reforge their relationship:

Both: All that I'm hopin', now that my eyes are open Is that we can start again- not be pulled apart again 'Cause in the end, you are part of who I am

As a result, Charlie feels empowered and has a renewed enthusiasm and optimism towards her dream:

Lucifer: I'll support your dream, whatever lies in store Charlie: And who could ask for more?

Lucifer's hidden shadow turns out to be a bright and warm light.

Vaggie shows Charlie unconditional support and has complete faith in her and her dream:

Charlie: I just hope what I'm trying to do here will work. Vaggie: It will. I have faith in you.

However, she doesn't tell Charlie that she used to be among the very people who brought carnage into Hell:

So, once Charlie discovers it, she is hurt, enraged and temporally loses her inner balance, giving in to negativity and hopelessness:

Vaggie's shadow is darker than Charlie imagined.

Political level

Charlie sees Heaven as the perfect realm and is initially enchanted by it:

Charlie: Okay, I love Heaven! Vaggie, did you see the ice cream shop? They had sprinkles made of rainbows!

However, throughout her journey there, she realizes Heaven too has cracks, contradictions and shadows:

Charlie: Wait… none of you know what gets someone into Heaven?

Which leads her to sing this:

Charlie and Emily: The rules are shades of gray when you don't do as you say When you make the wretched suffer just to kill them again

In answer to this:

Adam: 'Cause the rules are black and white There's no use in tryin' to fight it They're burnin' for their lives Until we kill 'em again!

The world isn't black and white, but shades of gray. The moment Charlie understands it, she can finally make sense of Vaggie and Lucifer's warning:

Charlie: I was told not to trust in angels

CHARLIE'S CONCLUSION: BRIDGES

Vaggie and Lucifer kickstart Charlie's arc. It is through them that the princess starts facing nuance in three ways:

Personal relationships: Charlie thinks she knows Vaggie and Lucifer the best, but both are able ot surprise her and to show her hidden sides of themselves, both bad and good.

Politics: Vaggie and Lucifer symbolically lead the Princess of Hell into Heaven and help her make sense of this contradictive realm. Specifically, Lucifer organizes Charlie's meeting with Sera and Vaggie goes to the questioning with Charlie.

Identity: thanks to her conflicts with Lucifer and Vaggie, Charlie faces her own lights and shadows. She discovers an inner strength when she inspires Lucifer to trust her. Meanwhile she touches her inner darkness when Vaggie hurts her. Both this power and this vulnerability are parts of who Charlie is and it is only by integrating them that she can bloom into the Princess of Hell.

In other words, Vaggie and Lucifer are Charlie's bridges towards:

Heaven and her role as Princess of Hell (macrochosm)

Who she is deep down as a person (microchosm)

They are Charlie's bridges towards light and shadow.

VAGGIE AND LUCIFER: GUARDIAN ANGELS

Vaggie and Lucifer are meant to be Charlie's personal guardian angels, as both want to protect her. Still, they can't succeed if they do not grow. So, they go through parallel arcs that can be seen as journeys of integration with the shadow:

They are forced to take off their masks (persona)

They are overwhelmed by their most hidden and shameful parts (shadow)

They conquer their shortcomings and grow (integration with the shadow)

Let's explore these three steps.

Blinding light: Sera

Sera embodies the persona, as she tries to mask everything wrong or disturbing behind a facade of perfection:

In Emily's imagination, Sera is a generous angel, who shares her light with others.

She blinds everyone with her virtue, wisdom and goodness, all while hiding exterminations and her involvement in them:

Lute: SHHH. Sir, what was the Seraphim's one rule? Adam: Uuughhh, "No one but the exorcists can know about the exterminations".

At the same time, she is an important foil to both Vaggie and Lucifer.

Sera and Vaggie try to hide their crimes from respectively Emily and Charlie. They love the two princesses and are worried for their well-being. At the same time, they are scared the two girls might resent them if they discovered they took part in the exterminations. Despite their efforts, though, Adam eventually reveals both of their secrets:

Adam: Gotta say, I can't wait to Sera: Adam… Adam: Come down and exterminate you!

Vaggie: Don't, Adam, please! Adam: What's the fuss? Why hide the fact that you're an angel Just like us

Emily and Charlie are horrified by the truth. Still, Sera and Vaggie's reactions are opposites.

On the one hand Sera immediately forces Emily to repress everything she is feeling. In this way, the status quo is quickly re-established and superficially their relationship goes back to how it was. By the end, Sera and Emily are shown working together, as per usual:

However, it is obvious they aren't facing their problems, which will only grow deeper.

On the other hand Vaggie gives Charlie time to process her feelings and express her anger. She doesn't try to force the Princess of Hell to get over it and waits until Charlie is ready to forgive her. All while working hard to fulfill Charlie's dream. By the end Charlie and Vaggie are back together, but their relationship is now deeper and stronger:

They start facing their issues and their bond develops because of it.

Sera and Lucifer are respectively Emily and Charlie's authority figures. They both care deeply about the young girls and want to protect them from Heaven. Still, the two older angels are also condescending towards them. Not only that, but they hide important parts of their personality from the two kids. In other words, they both wear masks. Still, Sera's mask is effective and she and Emily are very close. Lucifer's mask is ineffective, as he unwillingly pushes Charlie away. In the end, both masks come off and what emerges is opposite:

Emily discovers a negative side of Sera, meanwhile Charlie sees a positive side of Lucifer. Moreover, Sera and Lucifer eventually deal with the girls in different ways. Sera decides that Emily must conform to avoid any possible danger. Lucifer instead decides to support Charlie's dream, even if it might lead her to suffer. Sera chooses to protect Emily by enforcing repression. Lucifer chooses to enable Charlie's self-expression. Sera keeps treating Emily as a childish extension of herself. Lucifer starts accepting Charlie as her own adult person.

Sera: I couldn't bear to see you suffer that fate, so please, let me worry about this, ok?

Lucifer: Okay, I can get you the meeting, but once you're in Heaven, I won't be able to go with you. Will you be ok? Charlie: I'll be fine. Lucifer: That's my girl. Good luck kiddo.

Sera, Vaggie and Lucifer all hide parts of themselves from their loved ones and have their real selves exposed. However, Sera refuses to admit her crimes and does not accept neither Emily's anger nor her wishes. Vaggie and Lucifer instead admit their mistakes and accept both Charlie's negativity (Vaggie) and her dreams (Lucifer). Sera fails to take off the mask and is stuck in blinding light. Vaggie and Lucifer instead put the mask away and step into the shadow.

The darkest shadow: Alastor

Alastor embodies the shadow, as he preys on people's fears and insecurities:

Alastor materializes and controls beings made of shadows.

He does the same with the Princess of Hell, as well. He waits until Charlie hits rock bottom and manipulates her into making a deal:

Charlie: How? I'll do anything. Alastor: Anything? Then… let's make a deal.

What's interesting is that Alastor succeeds because both Vaggie and Lucifer fail Charlie.

First of all, Vaggie and Lucifer are framed as the two main obstacles to Alastor's plan, either directly (Vaggie) or indirectly (Lucifer):

Vaggie: Charlie, whatever you do, do not make a deal with him! Charlie: Don't worry, I picked up one thing from my dad! "You don't take shit from other demons!"

For example, in the pilot Vaggie strongly advises Charlie against trusting Alastor and Charlie answers that Lucifer taught her how to handle these kinds of situations. So, Vaggie's presence and Lucifer's teachings are Charlie's main defense against the Radio Demon. Still, Alastor quickly seizes upon Vaggie and Lucifer's weaknesses:

Alastor: Not for your soul, just a simple deal. I do this for you, and you never ask me to engage with this frivolous television technology ever again. Or…Charlie can come back to absolutely nothing. Your choice.

Alastor: Sadly, there are times a birth parent is a dud They say the family you choose is better

He makes use of Vaggie's insecurities over her usefulness to Charlie and taunts Lucifer's absence from his daughter's life. He doesn't really need to do anything else because the two angels' flaws do the rest.

Vaggie's lie hurts Charlie so much, that the princess pushes her girlfriend away in a moment where she needs all the support avaiable:

Vaggie: She's upstairs. Coming up with something, I'm sure, in our room. Alone.

And in this very moment Lucifer is nowhere to be seen, despite the fact he knows of his daughter's trip to Heaven. He either ignores how the meeting went and doesn't bother to ask. Or he knows it went badly and isn't there to offer a helping hand. Either way, he is absent.

In this context, it is telling the only ones there for Charlie are Razzle and Dazzle:

The two demons are Lucifer's gift to Charlie and have the mission to protect the princess. So, they are an extension of Lucifer himself and a perfect example of his parenting style:

Lucifer: Who needs a busboy now that you've got the chef? (Woh-oh-oh!) Michelin tasting menu, free à la carte I'll rig the game for you because I'm the ref! Champagne fountains Caviar mountains That's just to start!

"I don't need to be there and struggle psychologically if I give my daughter fancy toys, like two dragon body-guards!". Except, Razzle and Dazzle aren't Lucifer and it shows:

Symbolically, Charlie pushes Razzle and Dazzle away before taking Alastor's hand. Immediately after this, Vaggie breaks into the room:

Vaggie: No. No! Alastor: Right on cue! Vaggie: What did you do? Let her go!

The framing is rather clear. Vaggie's lie and Lucifer's absence leave Charlie vulnerable to Alastor. In a sense, the Radio Demon skillfully steps in to temporally play both Vaggie and Lucifer's roles:

He is there to help Charlie save the Hotel, as the Hotel Manager Vaggie usually does

He is there to mentor Charlie, as her actual father Lucifer fails to do

So, Vaggie and Lucifer screw up and their loved one takes a dangerous bet as a result. This ties with the shadow symbolism, as both angels fail to face their darkest parts in time. Vaggie has plenty of chances to tell Charlie the truth, but doesn't. Lucifer has just promised to support Charlie's dream, but once again he isn't there for her. Vaggie and Lucifer truly love Charlie and want to change for her, but they both struggle to do so. Luckily, they are soon given a second chance.

Conquering the shadow: Lute and Adam

Lute and Adam are Charlie's two major enemies in season 1 and they are negative foils of respectively Vaggie and Lucifer:

Just like Vaggie, Lute is an exorcist, who puts all her self-worth into her ability to kill:

Adam: Lute, how many demons did you kill this year? Lute: Got a good 275 this year, sir. Adam: 275? Woah! Badass! Awesome job, danger tits! Pound it.

She deals with problems by using violence and is fiercely loyal to Adam, like Vaggie is to Charlie.

Just like Lucifer, Adam struggles with Lilith leaving and wears a mask of arrogance to hide his vulnerability and low self-esteem. Not only that, but both Lucifer and Adam are authority figures who fail the people below them:

Lucifer: Our "people", Charlie, are awful! They got gifted free will and look what they did with it! Everything's terrible!

Adam: I started everything on Earth! All of mankind came from these fucking nuts! You all should be worshipping me, you ungrateful, disgusting, fucking losers-!

So, Lute and Adam embody Vaggie and Lucifer's repressed dark side. They are who the two fallen angel might become, but choose not to be. They are Vaggie and Lucifer's shadows. This is why, the Hotel Manager and the King od Hell are asked to fight the two exorcists in the finale, in order to protect Charlie.

On the one hand Vaggie fights Lute by refusing her mentality:

She juxtaposes a defensive fighting style to the exorcist's overly aggressive one. Moreover, Vaggie refuses Lute's rethoric about violence and revenge and shows her opponent mercy.

On the other hand Lucifer fights Adam to save his people, while Adam threathens his own descendants. Lucifer fights to protect, whereas Adam attacks to kill. As a result, Lucifer protects his daughter and is helped by her:

Adam instead is killed by a symbolic child (Niffty) and leaves his metaphorical daughter (Lute) behind:

In the end, both Vaggie and Lucifer win, but they do not kill Lute and Adam:

Vaggie: Seriously, you're pathetic, you know that? Ready to die rather than accepting mercy? No, live. Live knowing that you only do because I let you, the failure.

Vaggie spares Lute and rushes to Charlie's side to help her.

Charlie: Whoa, whoa, Dad. He's had enough. Lucifer: Alright. How's mercy taste, you little bitch?

Lucifer listens to Charlie's plead and shows mercy to Adam.

This happens because both Lute and Adam represent repressed parts of Vaggie and Lucifer. They are symbolically those sides our fallen angels refuse to face. They are their flaws, their past, their fears, their worse selves. So, Vaggie and Lucifer can't really kill them because it would mean to kill themselves. In fact, you can't kill your shadow, but you have to face it, without letting it take over. That is what both Vaggie and Lucifer do for Charlie's sake.

VAGGIE AND LUCIFER'S CONCLUSION: MORE THAN ANYTHING

Lucifer: More than anything (Charlie: More than anything) More than anything (Charlie: More than anything) Both: I'm grateful you're (Lucifer: my daughter/Charlie: my father) more than anything More than anything

Charlie and Vaggie: There's something that I've been dying to say More than anything, more than anything Need you to know I love you more than anything More than anything

Vaggie and Lucifer share different versions of the song More Than Anything with Charlie. Why is that so?

The song celebrates different kinds of love, like Lucifer and Charlie's familial bond and Vaggie and Charlie's romantic relationship.

The song highlights Vaggie and Lucifer's importance to Charlie

This importance is shown in the finale, where Vaggie and Lucifer not only defeat Charlie's enemies, but are also by the Princess's side:

Vaggie sings to Charlie before the battle, when the princess fears her loved ones might die

Lucifer sings to Charlie after the battle, when the princess is grieving her losses

Both support Charlie, when she is at her most vulnerable and they reassure her she did good:

Vaggie: You've already done so much So many lives you've changed So many souls you've touched And in the end, if it's only me you've saved

Lucifer: You can do this, now I know it! For your story has just begun You can't quit now. Hell, you owe it! There's still damage to be undone You've changed my mind, you've touched their hearts Found the good in souls gone bad

Both tell Charlie she has touched their souls and saved them.

So, Vaggie and Lucifer fail Charlie the moment she goes to face Heaven, but they are there for her when she fights to protect Hell. They screw up, learn and do better. As a result, they stand by Charlie's side, as the season comes to a close:

Vaggie is there because she has accepted Charlie's anger and her forgiveness. By doing so, she has accepted her violent past and has realized she can forgive herself.

Lucifer is there because he has accepted Charlie's ambitions and dreams. In this way, he was reminded of his past idealistic self and has found a new faith and new hopes.

THE FUTURE - ANGELIC SIBLINGS

In season 1, Vaggie, Lucifer and Charlie all struggle with their shadows, but their integration with their most repressed parts is far from over. What new challenges await them?

Among (many) others, I think all three characters are set-up to have "angelic siblings", who may step in as shadow archetypes. So, these angelic counterparts might embody parts of themselves the demons do not want to aknowledge.

Vaggie and Lute

Lute already plays the role of Vaggie's shadow in season 1. Vaggie's flashback makes the symbolism pretty clear:

Vaggie sees her shadow as she is about to kill a helpless child and stops herself. Only for another darker shadow to appear over her. That is Lute, who proceeds to rip her eye and wings off.

The meaning is obvious: Lute is the violent part of herself that Vaggie wants to escape. And yet, she will need to face Lute again and again. Even more importantly, she will need to aknowledge their shared upbringing and trauma, which is at the root of their issues.

Lucifer and Sera

Sera mentions Lucifer twice in Welcome to Heaven.

The first time, in relation to Charlie:

Sera: Well, you failed to control the demons' unrest, and now Lucifer is involved, setting up an audience for his misguided daughter.

The second time, in relation to Emily:

Sera: Please.... if you start to question... you could end up like Lucifer: Fallen.

I think the implication is that Sera and Lucifer used to be close (probably sibling-like), but Lucifer's fall changed things.

Sera right now seems to see different sides of Lucifer in Charlie and Emily:

In her first mention of Lucifer, Sera rolls her eyes and says Charlie is misguided. Except that she doesn't really know Charlie by this point. So, she is clearly seeing her as an extension of Lucifer. Specifically, she sees Charlie's attempt to change the system as similar to Lucifer's past ambitions: dangerous.

In her second mention of Lucifer, Sera warns Emily not to end up like him. She is clearly scared for the young Seraphim. Except that Emily is an angel version of Charlie, who is a younger version of Lucifer. In other words, Sera probably sees Emily as the embodyment of everything she loves about Lucifer. So, she wants to avoid history from repeating.

In other words, Sera projects on the two girls what she dislikes (Charlie) and what she misses (Emily) of Lucifer. Except that she can't have one without the other. More importantly, Sera and Lucifer will have to eventually meet to solve their past.

As a matter of fact it is possible Sera and Lucifer share the same authority figures: the Elders of Heaven. These parental figures probably traumatized them both on some level. So, we may have a scapegoat/golden child dynamic similar to the one Vaggie and Lute have:

Lucifer and Vaggie refuse their authority figures' teachings and end up in Hell as a consequence.

Sera and Lute accept these teachings and reach a position of authority. Sera is the High Seraphim of Heaven, while Lute is Adam's liutenant.

Sera and Lute are the ones who physically banish Lucifer and Vaggie and the ones who get in the way of the fallen angels (Sera politically and Lute physically).

Given this set-up and these similarities with Vaggie and Lute, it would be interesting to see how a future interaction between Lucifer and Sera will go. Sera might have the potential to challenge Lucifer when it comes to his past, his role as a parent and who he wants to be in the future.

Charlie and Emily

Emily is who Charlie would be if she were born in Heaven instead of Hell. She shares the Princess of Hell's kindness, but also her naivety and her innocent condescension:

Emily: Gosh, I'm so pleased to show some outsiders around After you see our realm, you'll never wanna go back down St. Peter and Emily: 'Cause every single day in Heaven is a happy day Welcome to Heaven

You'll be complete! It'll be so neat! Our service can't be beat! You'll be on easy street! (Yes!) Life will be sweet at the Happy Hotel~!

These traits are actually stronger in Emily, as Heaven presents itself as peaceful and perfect.

In Welcome to Heaven, both Charlie and Emily have their vision of the world crushed:

Emily: What are you saying? Let me get this straight You go down there and kill those poor souls?

Adam: Don't you act all high and mighty Did you ever think your little girlfriend might be a liar?

However, Charlie is given the chance to work on her internal flaws, while Emily is forced to push everything under the rug:

Sera: They were uprising, Emily! It is my position as the head Seraphim to protect our people at all costs. And it's your position to keep them happy and joyful. Emily: How can I bring joy when I now know we are bringing misery to thousands of innocent people? Sera: Heaven needs us, Emily. Everyone looks to us… and we can't doubt ourselves or worry about the fates of demons when we have our own souls to protect.

So, it would be interesting to see what kind of bond Charlie develops with this other self and how they can help each other grow.

Obviously, these are all just theories, but it would be cool to have all these angel characters explored more in later seasons!

[parkerflix]

— house of balloons

ethan landry x gn!reader (hint of chad x reader)

wc: 1.05k

warnings: huge spoiler warning for scream 6, blood, violence, descriptions of aforementioned blood & violence, angst(?), one sided affections

synopsis: the betrayal you had felt hurt almost as much as the wounds left. almost.

a/n: my first scream fic i literally have been thinking about this i just needed to word dump sorry if it’s a little messy i’m rusty

you weren’t sure how you had gotten it wrong.

clutching your right side, you hissed at the pain that came with applying the pressure on your wound.

your ears were still ringing from the shots fired, and you weren’t sure if kirby was alive or dead.

detective bailey was going some long tangent, ones just like you had seen in horror movies a thousand times before with him.

quinn was busy glaring at sam and tara, her pupils blown wide as if she had been doing something else.

“hey sweetheart, where’s your head at?”

you whipped your head around to look at him, the one who had lied to you and was trying to kill you.

ethan waved his knife at you, a smile growing on his face once he realized you had snapped out of your daze.

“can’t have you missing everything. i’m surprised you hadn’t figured it out before. it was so fucking simple, right in front of you the whole time! unless you’re too stupid to have even considered me a suspect! mindy was right to be concerned and suspicious about me. a shame she had to die really.”

“fuck you.”

a sharp blade quickly sliced your left arm, making you cry out in pain.

quinn had a satisfied smile, and pointed the knife directly towards you.

“don’t talk to him like that!”

“quinn you’re a fucking psycho whore!” tara shouted at her, pulling you closer to both her & sam.

“you call it whore, i call it sex positive. you’re going to die anyways you bitch so it doesn’t matter what you say.”

sam seemingly had enough of all three of them, and whacked quinn over the head with the brick, a crack being heard and her laying on the ground.

it quickly became chaos after that, sam and tara running and fighting off both detective bailey & quinn fairly easy. you had run back to the lobby, as fast as you possibly could with your injuries. you could feel yourself losing more & more blood, your vision getting significantly more spotted.

reaching chad, you kneeled down next to him, trying to find a pulse, a sign that he was still alive. he was your best friend, and you were unwilling to accept that he was dead.

you start shaking his arm, about to call out him name when you felt a blade stab your other side. you turned your head around when the knife was retracted from your side, only to see ethan standing over you.

your eyes grew wide, not registering what happened next.

ethan stabbed you once more in the same spot, twisting the knife kneeling in front of you.

“i cant believe you would still run to chad during all of this. i thought you were smarter than that. i never wanted to hurt you. i just wanted you to see that he was bad for you.”

“what the fuck are you talking about?” you spat at him, ethan twisting the knife even more with a grin when he saw you were struggling to breathe.

“it was obvious. in all the time we spent together, it was obvious that i’m in love with you. but you wouldn’t shut up about chad, and i figured with him out of the way, you would see i’m here for you. a shame that i was wrong about you. now i have to kill you.”

he pulled the knife out of your side, and threw you onto the ground. he came and straddled you, thighs pinning your waist in place. you looked around frantically, not wanting to just be at his will.

a concrete block was just in your reach, fingertips ghosting over the edge of the hole in it.

“you know, i really loved you. we could’ve made it work.”

ethan brought his arms up and was about to plunge the knife deep into your chest, when you swung the concrete block, slamming it into his head. the force you used knocked ethan off of you and onto the ground, making him drop the knife and lay there unmoving.

you had watched countless horror movies with ethan, always getting frustrated with the characters when they never bothered to make sure the killers were dead. you quickly rose to your knees, ignoring how blurry your vision was, and grabbed both the cinder block and the knife that had fell not far enough from ethan’s reach as you would like. you pocketed the knife, wanting it just in case.

you quickly straddled yourself on top of him, and swung the block towards his head with as much force as you could muster. you repeated it as much as you could, tears streaming down your face as you heard the cracking of his bones in his head.

after a few blows to his head, and his hair being matted with his blood, you grabbed the knife, leaned forward and with your last bit of energy, plunged the knife through ethan’s heart. you twisted it, a sob leaving your mouth as you never had wanted to be in this position again. you laid on top of ethan for a moment, sobs racking your entire body as you came to terms with what just happened.

you don’t know when you had blacked out, maybe the blood loss, maybe the adrenaline finally leaving your body, but when you came to, you thought you were dead.

opening your eyes, you quickly took a full scan of the room, not quite sure where you were.

looking to your right side, you saw your iv and heart monitor and everything clicked into place.

“hey.”

you turned your head to see chad in the same room as you, in his bed 10 feet away from you.

he waved at you, confusion riddling your face as you tried to remember what had happened.

“don’t frown like that, or else you’re going to get wrinkles.”

you rolled your eyes at him, before asking him the question that was waiting to come out.

“and the others?”

“they’re safe. we’re safe.”

as soon as he said those words, relief washed over you, and you felt yourself tearing up. somehow you had survived two sets of serial killers. you knew that maybe right now, you wouldn’t be fine, but you had hope that maybe you could be.